#i got one shirt with 'stay alive out of spite' on the back and i love it

[burningcomputerpersona]

also how is it that spanish love songs has such good merch??? i don't think I've ever been to a show before where I had to struggle so hard to pick just one thing, like in a lot of cases there's only really one thing that appeals to me or I just get something bc i love the band and need to have them on me regardless of what the design looks like. but i was spending ages just staring at the merch stand trying to pick one out of alllll the things i wanted

[universallychaoticpan]

Walk me home~

bsd men walking you home when you're (both) drunk

(TW for brief references to alcoholism.)

(Dazai, Chuuya, Kunikida)

It wasn't like you had a low tolerance or anything; seriously, you could drink most people you knew under the table. But between the rich warmth of the summer night making you feel alive and the Dazai's deceptively adorable smile, you'd both passed tipsy about an hour ago.

But he was still in the right frame of mind to know there was no way in hell he was letting you walk home alone in the middle of the night. Nope. Kunikida could think he was an idiot all he wanted, but he had enough common sense (even while drunk) to know that that was a bad idea. And even though he trusted you to protect yourself, weapons and abilities hardly ever mixed well with alcohol.

Thus began your stumble back to your apartment, the two of you cackling madly every time you bumped into one another. Suddenly, all of his stupid joked were just hilarious, and his kisses tasted sweeter than nectar. He kissed you against streetlamps, sent you both tumbling into alleys as he tried to kiss you against walls, twirled you around as you giggled like a child. At a normal time, passersby would've scoffed at your behavior, and for good reason. But it wasn't a normal time- it was the middle of the night when the moon burned bright and high in the sky, when the taste of liquor on your tongues complimented the gleam in your eyes perfectly.

You were happy, giddy, in love- the night was warm and seemed to e holding its breath, waiting for something magic.

But you collapsed into the doorway of your apartment, still giggling between one another, his shirt collar in your fist as you pulled him into a kiss.

The next morning, you would wake up on the floor, his coat draped over you like a blanket as you used his chest as a pillow, his hand in your hair and a headache in your skull. But the morning didn't matter. All that mattered was your laughter, his mouth, and the stars swimming in your eyes, bright as galaxies.

You had been at the Mafia party for almost four hours now- that was after it had taken Chuuya days to convince you to go in the first place. But finally, you'd gotten dressed, fixed your hair, taken his breath away and attended on his arm.

And somehow, you managed to drink enough fine wine that your cheeks were flushed and your hair was falling fetchingly around your face.

You stood on the mezzanine of the grand room, watching people mingle and laugh below, listening to the soothing hum of chatter as you raised your glass to your lips again. Before you could take a longer sip, you felt a cool, gentle hand pulling the glass away.

"They really should warn people how easy it is to loose self control with this stuff." Chuuya's voice was like a balm on your hot skin as he slid his arm around your waist, standing beside you as he finished your glass. "You've had what, three glasses? And you've got that dreamy, far away look- like your just gonna close your eyes and float away." He snorted. "If I was a better person, I'd regret dragging you here."

You laughed, the sound escaping your lips like the ringing of bells.

"Don't be mad," you smiled. "if anything, be happy i now understand your appreciation for finery."

He smiles. "You're the finest thing in my life, so how about I get you out of here before we regret staying longer."

Too sleepy to argue, you let him lead you out of the grand room, the glitter of the party soon replaced by the gleam of the city at night. You stared out of the window of your car as you leaned against his shoulder, watching the city rush past in a blur of color and light, your eyes half closing as the warmth of the wine flowed through you.

"you know something?" you mused, only half conscious as Chuuya's hand rested gently on your shoulder. "Feeling like this..it's no wonder people are alcoholics."

Chuuya chuckled in spite of himself. "You wanna know something? When I tell you all about everything you said tonight in the morning, the look on your face is going to be sweeter than any wine."

You snorted, pushing at him playfully. "You're such a dick," you smiled.

"Yeah? Well I love you." He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you rested your head on his chest, a yawn forcing itself out of you.

"Shut up," you murmured, though not unknindly , the smile on your lips evident in your voice as you drifted off.

Kunikida had no idea how he'd gotten here.

The evening had been normal enough- some of the older agency members sticking around to chat after work, namely Dazai, Ranpo, Yosano, you, and himself. Then chatting turned to dinner, the five of you eating in a circle in the middle of the room. Then, dinner had turned into Dazai running out of the office in a hurry, returning ten minutes later carrying several bottles of cheap booze. After that- well things had gotten strange.

Kunikida wasn't a lightweight, but he also had a sort of self control the rest of you seemed to have lost. He sat on his chair, watching the rest of you roar with laughter at the stupidest things, watching you make up drinking games, watching you forget your troubles as you drank among friends.

But of course, all good things had to end. Eventually, everyone said their goodbyes, and went their separate ways. Which left you and Kunikida alone to walk the short distance to his apartment.

Now.

You weren't unsteady on your feet, but you had a tendency to wander even when sober. Whatever had been in your cup hadn't made that any different, so he made sure to keep his hand wrapped around yours lest you stumble into a light pole. He smiled in spite of himself as you mumbled happily to yourself, swinging your clasped hands between the two of you.

"You're an oddly adorable drunk you know," he muttered, a small, affectionate smile gracing his usually serious face.

"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," you replied, turning around and placing your hands on your hips like a pouting child. "I'm adorable all the time."

Kunikida snorted, but he didn't disagree as he walked you up the stairs to your place.

He let you get into bed and was about to go finish a few things when you reached out- reaching for him.

"Stay" you mumbled, face squished against your pillow. "Want you to stay here."

"Come on, y/n, I'll be back in a minute- just have to finish some things."

"Nope. Here. Now"

You stared at each other for a second, your eyes still challenging even in your giggly, drunken haze. Finally, he relinquished. You were the only one he'd do that for.

"You're such a brat you know," he said as he got into bed beside you, pulling you into him.

"Yeah I know," you replied.

"But you love me."

[thiswasinevitableid]

Cactus Gorge (Sternclay)

For the yeehawgust "chaps n spurs" prompt poll, the tied winner was "cactus blossom." This fill is NSWF and does reference violence.

Cactus Blossom Gorge is said to be the prettiest place west of the Rockies. In the spring, the cacti bloom in waves of pink and orange, leaving the air almost candied in its sweetness and the vistas like a watercolor. 

Barclay’s never had a reason to be in the canyon until now; it’s a day's ride from town, is steep and treacherous to descend, and is rumored to be home to a race of monsters. So, the fact that the blossoms can be boiled into syrups that make desserts taste amazing (and sell out faster than his flapjacks) has always taken second place to staying alive.

He wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for the fucking kidnapping. 

He’d been hired out as a day cook for a party of wealthy tourists from back east. He didn’t take those jobs often, but with summer on the horizon, visitors to Kepler Desert will get scarcer, so he took the generous fee and left Moira to run the kitchen. 

It should have been easy; pack a picnic and drinks, show off cooking on the campfire at dusk, then call it a day. But the group hired a guide they met at the station, rather than asking in town. 

Turns out the guide was a member of the Copperhead Gang, looking for a fat mouse to lead straight into a trap. 

So now he’s stuck here, five days later, arms tied except for when the bandits demand he cook something. They’ve left his legs undone, because his first escape attempt was also his last; he can afford the broken nose. If they get his fingers, like they promised they would, he’ll be fucked when he gets back home. 

If he gets back home. 

He’s laying on his side, in the shade of a boulder, wondering if anyone is looking for him. Mama, Aubrey, all his friends, they must be worried sick, must know what happened. The gang left the bodies there for the coyotes, after all. 

But what if the sheriff and his men assumed Barclay’s body had just been dragged off? Told everyone it was a shame, that they’d catch the varmits eventually (as they’ve been saying for the last four months, in spite of there now being bounty hunters prowling the desert, looking to catch what they clearly can’t).

Dirt crunches behind him. Before he can sit up, a kick catches his upper back. 

“Up. Buddy shot some quails.”

Barclay spends the sunset plucking the birds, cooking them over the fire. Sprinkles a seasoning blend over them; he intended to make these assholes eat the blandest food alive, but after they threatened to cut out his tongue since it was clear he wasn’t using it to taste, he’s been using his special mixture on sad stews and shot birds.

The leader, Bobby, snarls that he better not overcook it. Or he’ll end up like the last cook. 

Barclay tries not to think about the last cook. The guy must have had friends and family, must have sat by the fire with these same copperheads circling him, hoping someone would save him. 

(“Copperheads” he can hear his friend Duck’s voice in his head, “we ain’t even got those out here.”)

The meal is good enough to keep him alive, though he gets ash kicked on his shirt and nearly in his eyes for trying to snag a stray piece of skin. 

Then he’s tied up by the boulder once again, eyes stinging, stomach rumbling, and hope fading. 

It’s when empty plates are being scraped that one of the men says, “Where’d Mike go?”

“Powder room.” Bobby chuckles, still pleased with his idea to call the privacy granted by some stones twenty paces from camp. 

“No I know, but he’s not back. Ain’t been since the start of dinner.”

“Then eat his share and shut up.”

“I’m worried-”

“Then you go check on him.”

A set of footsteps disappears into the darkness. 

“Boss!” Buddy’s call is cut off, like someone knocked him out. 

“What in the hell-” Another of the men, the one closest to Barclay, stands. Barclay rolls over in time to see him disappear the moment he steps out of the shrinking ring of firelight. 

Guns are drawn now and Barclay curls further against the rock as bullets ricochet off stones and get stuck in cacti. A rock hit’s one of the remaining three men in the head, and when they all turn to shoot at the thrower, Barclay watches a huge, lithe figure dart past the fire, a tail kicking up sand to douse the flames. 

The darkness only makes the gang fire more panicked shots. One man turns to flee, only to scream a moment later, and then there’s a horrible, clicking sound as the remaining henchman is dragged from view by clawed hands. 

“Come out and fight me, fucker!” Bobby screams. 

The monster is back, leaping from the surrounding boulders directly onto the outlaw. There’s a struggle, a moment of panicked, sobbing screaming, and then nothing as the creature sinks its teeth into Bobby’s neck. 

Barclay is shaking, hands over his mouth, praying to anything that might listen that the thing hasn’t seen him. 

The narrow head raises, then snaps his direction. Eyes, glowing eerily, faintly blue, lock onto him, and the beast stands. 

Barclay closes his eyes. But the creature doesn’t move. 

Or he thinks it doesn’t. When he opens them, it’s nearly to him on silent, clawed feet. 

At this point he’s hiding his face in his arms, trying to do something, anything, rather than shake and whimper like a whipped dog. 

“It’s okay.” The monster’s tone is cool but not unkind, and Barclay does not feel any less like a hound when it says, “it’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”

He freezes as it grips his arms, but a moment later the ropes drop away. 

“Can you stand?”

He nods, lets the creature lift him until he has no choice but to take his weight or risk his feet leaving the dirt. Then the hands retreat, falling by dark-furred thighs. Barclay wills himself to look up; the monster is a head taller than him, face close to that of a wolf yet narrower, with a small mane of fur. It’s arms and legs are long, it’s tail like one of the lizards Duck is always trying to get to eat the ants who attack his garden. Short spines sit along it’s back from below it’s shoulders to it’s tailbone. 

It takes Barclay a moment to register that the spines are poking through a men's shirt. No, not poking, it looks like it’s been tailored to let them through. 

He looks down again; since when do monsters wear pants?

“Since I was able to get some made to fit. But I’m guessing you didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“S-sorry.” He looks away, “I, I don’t, I can’t…” he hugs himself, “what’s going on?”

“The short version is I don’t believe in letting murderers escape justice. The longer version is I’m a bounty hunter, they’re my quarry, and your friends back in Kepler will be so glad to see you.”

“How did-”

“You’re Barclay Cobb, right?” 

“Yeah. Yeah I am.” He feels like he’s speaking from far away. Like he’s about to wake up and discover he’s still tied by the boulder. He shivers; it gets so cold in the canyons at night, it isn’t fair. 

“I’m Joseph.” The monster extends his hand and Barclay shakes it, “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable for the night, Mr. Cobb.” 

“You can call me Barclay. Basically everyone does.”

A smile, charming in spite of the sharp teeth, “I can manage that.”

He follows his rescuer out of the camp, doing his best to pick his way over small rocks and patches of plants without any moonlight for help. After his third, near-miss with a cactus, Joseph pauses. 

“Do you want to take my hand? Night vision has its perks.”

Barclay takes the offered hand, holding tighter than he really means to as Joseph winds them through the canyon and up onto a ledge the size of a homestead. Barclay can make out the shape of an abandoned Pony Express depot; they’d tried to place one here once upon a time, only to half complete it before the express stopped running. 

Joseph holds the door, allowing Barclay to pass inside. He stands awkwardly in the dark as there’s a rustling of a drawer, a thwick of a match, and a lantern springing to life. 

The inside of the building is shockingly tidy; there’s a small bookshelf, a bed that’s been made as neatly as if they were in a hotel, and small wardrobe that looks like it’s been fucking dusted. 

He glances down at himself and growls in frustrated disgust; his clothes are a mess of dust, sweat, spit, and blood both his own and not. 

“Let’s see, order of operations…” Joseph is moving through clearly familiar motions, lighting lamps and opening doors, checking cabinets and running his claws though the fur atop his head. 

“Please tell me there’s somewhere I can rinse off? Or change?”

“There’s a spring in the hillside. I have a towel somewhere, and I should be able to find you something of mine to wear.”

Barclay looks toward the back door where Joseph gestured. He can’t go out there. What if the gang isn’t all dead, what if one of them comes looking, what if Joseph isn’t the only one of his kind out here and the others aren’t nearly as friendly-

“Or” Joseph is studying his face, taking in his huddled posture, “I could fetch a few buckets of water and bring them in.”

“Please?”

“Make yourself comfortable.” Joseph picks up two wooden buckets and slips through the door. Barclay hears that same clicking, not as menacing, and the words, “here Nessa, brought you some blossoms.”

Barclay is still trying to figure out why someone like Joseph needs to ride a horse when his host returns, buckets sloshing slightly as Barclay holds the door for him. 

“Here we go.” Joseph pulls over a stool, then sorts through the wardrobe, pulling out a washcloth and a bar of ivory soap and presenting them to Barclay, “there’s not much privacy so I, um” his spines ripple a moment, “I promise I’ll keep my eyes elsewhere.”

“Don’t mind if you peek, not like I haven’t been naked around guys before. But if you want a show, I might charge you.” 

Fuck, where did that come from? 

“Sorry, I, that was weird.” 

Joseph lays a hand on his forearm, “You don’t need to apologize. You’ve been out here for close to a week, scared out of your mind and being mistreated. People say all kinds of things when they’re stressed. Or coming out of it.”

The hand retreats, the claws brushing his skin making him want to sigh and melt, to beg Joseph to trace them over him again. 

The water is cold, Barclay’s skin going goosebumped after only a few minutes of scrubbing himself, but just being able to get clean makes him want to cry with relief. 

When he’s done, he hangs the cloth on the little washline strung up on one of the windows, and picks up the towel Joseph left for him. He turns as he finishes tying it around his waist, and catches Joseph looking quickly back down at the newspaper he’s reading at the little table. 

“I found a shirt that should work” Joseph stands, handing him the white fabric, “but none of my pants will fit you. The ones I wear, you’ll be swimming in, and the ones I have for a human body won’t fit someone as big as you.” His eyes stay politely on Barclay’s face, but the spines ripple again, “this should at least let you make a very comfy skirt.”

“Thanks.” Barclay takes the clothes, pulls on the shirt and wraps the soft blanket around his waist in place of the towel as Joseph pours them water and sets out a handkerchief with some hard tack and cured, even harder sausage. 

He sips his water, finds it floral and bright, “Cactus blossoms?”

“It’s what I grew up putting in water jugs. If you don’t like it I can-”

“No, no I like it. Just surprised me. Kind of a delicacy up in town.” He takes another sip, “does that mean you, like, live down here?”

“Only sometimes; it’s often a better base camp if I’m hunting than town is. And since this stretch of canyon technically is my family territory, it does feel like home.” 

Something about the way he says ‘technically” suggests a sore spot, and so Barclay flicks his gaze to the folded newspaper, looking for a new topic. 

“You were solving the chess problem?”

A smile, “Yes! This was a quick one, at least for me. Do you want to give it a try?”

“Maybe after dinner. I try to solve those when it’s slow at the Lodge. I like the little mystery they’ve been running in the town paper lately, too.”

“Yes.” Joseph nods emphatically, “those are so tricky, I love the challenge.”

“Y’know they’re actually by the McElroy’s youngest? Kid’s got quite a mind for puzzles.” He snickers, “they’ve been coming to Lodge long enough I remember when his brother went through a phase where he’d only eat beans.”

“At the restaurant or…”

“Nope, period, poor Mrs. McElroy kept coming to me for recipes…”

They eat up the remainder of their dry, but pleasant, dinner discussing some of Barclay’s stranger customer requests, and Joseph’s memory of a fellow bounty hunter who seemed to survive on Parsons Cashews alone. 

Joseph insists Barclay take the bed for the evening, so he settles himself on top of the quilt with the chess puzzle as Joseph snuffs out all but the nearest lamp and goes to check on Nessa one final time. 

Barclay holds his breath the entire time his host is outside, afraid he’ll hear a thud and then a human face will peer through the door. 

Joseph returns unscathed, tipping the last of the water into Barclay’s cup before setting himself in a chair with a book of ghost stories. The wind in the canyon is picking up, carrying blossoms past the windows as it rattles them. 

Once he solves the puzzle, Barclay flips to a new page, reading the mystery for the day and solving it a bit faster than he’d hoped. Then he reads the news, then the want ads, then advertisements. 

He’s considering starting the paper all over again when Joseph yawns, “I think we ought to turn in for the night. We have a long ride back to town tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Good point.” Barclay sets the paper away and crawls beneath the blankets. Joseph murmurs a goodnight and Barclay responds with the same. 

Then he lays there. Wide awake. His brain plays the same song of “what if” over and over again; what if Joseph didn’t get them all? What if one escaped and brought back friends? What if Bobby was just playing dead and is waiting for them to sleep so he can sneak in and gut Barclay like a trout?

The window shakes again and he winces. 

“Everything okay?” Joseph’s eyes glow up at him from the floor. 

“Are you sure they’re all dead?”

Joseph sits up, “No. Because I didn’t kill them.”

“What?” 

“I paralyzed them. My bite can do that, and I have enough practice to know how hard and long a bite I need to give in order to keep them out and immobile until I can round them tomorrow and take them into town. I…prefer to at least let there be a trial before someone dies. If you hadn’t been here I might have just tossed them all into the cart I have waiting and started for town, but you needed rest. And care. Besides” his smile is a little bitter, and a little ashamed, “I also don’t feel too bad if someone who murders people in cold blood loses a toe to a coyote because my bite has them too paralyzed to run.”

Barclay nods, trying to take all that in at once. 

Joseph leans forward, resting a hand on his knee, “I’m good at what I do, Barclay. But even if somehow, someone slipped out of it and came here, I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

“Thank you.” He takes Joseph’s hand, clinging to it, “fuck, I’m sorry, I know we need to sleep but I can’t, it’s awful, I keep jumping at every sound and when I close my eyes I see them leering over me or, or I see, see what they did, what I only survived because they’d seen me at the campfire.” He holds tighter, “I’m so tired. I could barely sleep because of how scared I was, or because they thought it was fucking funny to kick me awake.”

A low, rapid click, as Joseph’s tail twitches. Then he clears his throat, rubbing his thumb over Barclay’s knuckles, “Is there some way to help you relax.”

He starts to shake his head, then meets Joseph’s eyes, “What happens if you give someone a little bite?”

The spines straighten a moment, then relax, “It depends on how little. If it’s very small, it will produce a sense of relaxation and mild euphoria. You’ll still be lucid, but it might be easier to sleep if your body isn’t holding all that tension.” 

“Please bite me.” 

“You’re sure? I can try to think of something else, I don’t want it to backfire and leave you feeling helpless or like I’m hurting you-”

“Please” He says again, rolling onto his side, “I…I trust you.”

Joseph studies his face a moment, then lifts Barclay’s left hand. Carefully, he brings the tip of the thumb to his mouth, parting his lips. A hint of pressure, then a sting, and before Barclay even finishes gasping his monster is setting his hand gingerly back down on the mattress. 

“How long does…does..” he blinks, suddenly finding his legs and neck heavy, but not unpleasantly so.

Joseph chuckles, “It happens incredibly quickly. In humans it’s almost instantaneous, but even for my kind, a bite only takes thirty seconds at most to kick in.”

“You bite each other? Like when you’re fighting?” The image of Joseph attacking Bobby comes back to him, but this time his mind lingers on how graceful Joseph was, how swiftly and smoothly he rescued him. 

“Sometimes, but we love a debate more than a fistfight for settling arguments. Even if the debates take longer and can result in more bad blood in the end. But we do more biting with, um, with mates. Lovers. These mouths aren’t exactly as easy to kiss with as a human one is, so love biting takes its place.” The spines are rippling again, and Joseph is looking away from him. 

Barclay reaches down, pulling Joseph’s hand up to his mouth. Then he turns it, palm up, and bites down on the soft, short fur and the skin beneath. 

Joseph yips, surprised, but doesn’t pull away until Barclay lets him go. 

“It’s not nice to tease, big guy.” He murmurs, tracing a line along the edge of Barclay’s beard. 

“Not teasing. Was trying to kiss you. Besides, you just called me big guy.”

“It slipped out.” Joseph’s posture suggests he’s blushing, “Barclay, you’re incredibly handsome, and I’d fuck you in a heartbeat if I knew that’s what you wanted. But I don’t want you to do anything with me you might regret. Like sleeping with someone whose appearance scares the hell out of you.”

“I mean, it did.” Barclay tries to scoot closer but can’t without risking falling out of bed, “but it doesn’t now. Now I know you’re Joseph and not just something waiting in the dark to tear my throat out. And you’re, uh, It’s” he drags a hand over his face, “I almost never find guys who are bigger than me and it’s so fucking hot and it makes me feel so safe. Felt that way before you bit me, too.”

“In that case…” Joseph pulls the blanket off him, “you can bite me as many times as you like.”

Barclay undoes the knot on his makeshift skirt as quickly as his fingers allow, letting it fall open under Joseph’s appreciative gaze. A different noise bubbles from the monster’s throat, more a purr than a click, and he bends forward, tongue longer than humans lapping at Barclay’s cock as he cradles it in one palm. 

“Ohhhhfuck, fuck, Joseph it, that feels incredible.” He’s heard of people paying to have wax dripped on them during sex, and maybe that’s because it feels like this; warm without being painful, smooth as it covers his skin and leaves him tingling. 

“Better test it a few more times to be sure.” Joseph swirls his tongue over the head, licks lovingly up and down his shaft from every side. The claws of his free hand run with a comforting prickle along Barclay’s thigh and card through the hair on his stomach and chest with obvious pleasure. 

He’s weightless, he’s in heaven, he’s getting the best head of his life. 

And he’s not getting hard. 

“Fuck” he groans, frustrated. 

Joseph sits up, though his hand continues stroking and teasing Barclay’s cock, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t, I think I’m too exhausted, or stressed or something, I can’t get it up, I’m sorry.”

“My sweet Barclay. That’s nothing to apologize for.” Joseph leans down, nuzzling his cheek, “All you have to do right now is let me take care of you, however feels good. Besides” the tongue drags up his throat, “who said anything about us needing your cock?”

“Fuck, yes” Barclay tries to spread his legs, but they feel as if they’re too heavy, or as if he’s too far away from them somehow.

“Oh, big guy, has it been too long?” He says it with genuine sympathy as he rolls Barclay onto his front.

“Uh huh, fuck, people get one look at my dick and they, they think I wanna be in charge, wanna be on top, fuck” he gasps, clutching for the pillows as Joseph’s tongue runs from his neck down to his ass. 

“Well, they can have their narrow ideas while you and I have a great time.” Joseph nuzzles the top of his head this time with a happy sigh, “now, be a good boy and hold still for me.”

“You’re not gonna prep me?” Fear reemerges, threatening to spread through his system in a wave. 

“It’s a little different with my, well, set-up,” 

Barclay glances back; Joseph’s cock is thinner than a humans but a good seven or eight inches long, absolutely dripping with something golden and sticky,  with short, knobbly spines scattered across it. 

“They won’t hurt. Here, feel.” He rubs the shaft along Barclays ass with a hungry growl as the spines bend, soft and flexible. 

“Okay.” Barclay takes a deep breath, spreading his knees wider, “okay.”

The tip of the cock presses into him with ease, whatever’s slicking its way seeming to open him as it does. Joseph wraps an arm around his middle, sets the other hand on top of Barclay’s own, “I’ve got you big guy.”

Joseph works his hips in short, deliberate thrusts, his cocking sliding deeper and deeper until he’s flush against Barclay’s ass and Barclay is nearly clawing the sheets from how good it feels. The spines rub against him, finding sensitive spots he’s not even sure he knew existed before now as Joseph’s breathing picks up. 

“You feel so good, big guy. I think I might just stay here all night. If you can’t sleep, I could just keep fucking you until you’re too tire to keep your eyes open.”

“Fuck, yeah” He moans, trying to push back to meet the thrusts but finding his limbs to relaxed to do anything but keep him how Joseph has arranged him. 

“Mmmm” Joseph laughs into his neck, then trills and clicks when Barclay turns to nip at his forearm, “maybe that’s my real reward for this bounty. Not the money, but the chance to demand that because I saved your life, I get to find you every night and fuck you until you’re dripping and so relaxed that all you can do lay there and let me be good to you.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, Josephohfuck” His toes curl as Joseph picks up the pace, his cock finally responding to being ground against the bed. 

“That’s it big guy, let go for me. You’re mine, I’ve got you, I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again, I take care of you, I will, ohfuck, shit” he pulses into Barclay, working his hips frantically as Barclay rocks against the quilt, desperate to cum. Eventually Joseph gets his breath back, little clicks and purrs leaving him as he whispers, “I love feeling watching you fuck my cum back into that perfect ass.”

Barclay cums with a weak cry against the sheets, Joseph rubbing his sides and doing his best to kiss his shoulders as he shakes and twitches through it. 

There’s a mess on the quilt the instant he pulls out, but neither of them minds. Instead, Joseph curls around him, promising him he’s safe, telling him how wonderfully he did, and Barclay falls asleep petting soft, black fur. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay steps into the morning light to find Joseph hitching Nessa to a wagon full of bleary-eyed, terrified outlaws who, upon seeing Barclay, begin begging him not to let the monster get them. 

“It’s funny, what heat and liquor can do a man.” Joseph produces a silver ring and slips it over his finger. Suddenly there’s no monster to be seen, just a tall, black-haired man with blue eyes and the most charming smile Barclay’s ever seen. 

“Agreed. Makes people see things that aren’t there.” Barclay steps beside Joseph, ignoring the ongoing shouts from the wagon to press a kiss to his cheek. 

Joseph passes him the reins to one of the outlaw’s horses, “We should hit Kepler before sunset. I need to take these men to the jail and collect my bounty.”

“Any idea what you’re gonna spend it on?” Barclay climbs into the saddle and Joseph does the same. 

The bounty hunter sets a black hat onto his head as blossoms begin dancing in the breeze, “How about taking you to dinner?”

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hi there. Friendly neighborhood M.I. (me lol) again with the prologue of the Blackie fanfic. Should be about 3 chapters, total, with time skips inbetween. Small warnings for a little blood and, obviously, death. Mention of a minor/adult relationship.

1970

Everything hurts. The pain starts in your stomach, radiating out from the bullet -or bullets, you aren't actually sure how many hit- lodged somewhere inside you and down through your tired limbs with every step. You're cold in spite of the burning ache, with far too much of your blood being on the outside. Again, you aren't sure how much. Your shirt was dark to begin with, but not so unpleasantly damp and clingy, earlier.

"Just a little further, baby, c'mon," Tommy pants, practically dragging you even though he's not in much better shape.

"I'm tired," you whimper, slumping down on a stack of the wooden crates that seem to be everywhere here by the water.

Far more of them than there are people. Tommy was sure there'd be people, somewhere. Someone who could help. He's wrong. As usual. The last ten years have taught you that he's always wrong, but you go along with it the same way you did when you were just a naive girl of sixteen and your twenty year old boyfriend said he was leaving for better things.

His dreams were larger than life. Larger than the nowhere backwoods town where you grew up. And his dreams slowly became your nightmares. The pair of you were supposed to be living in a luxury penthouse overlooking the city lights by now, rubbing elbows with the finest and moving ever upward.

Instead, you were dying, cold and damp, on a fish-reeking pier because Tommy once again got himself mixed up in the wrong scheme. Pissed off the wrong people. People with guns. The one thing he'd gotten right is that you should've stayed home tonight. He was meant to protect you, not the other way around.

He'd done his best. Wheeling and dealing for rent on your perpetually roach-infested apartment, doing whatever he could to keep you off the streets and out of trouble when more honest work inevitably failed. Though...more than half the time it failed because of his scheming and pissing off someone higher up the food chain. Fired. Back to step one.

But he was still gorgeous and sweet. Deep brown eyes, total devotion, and an incredible sex life went a long way toward making you overlook his glaring list of flaws. Especially when you became just as trapped as he was and had no one else to fall back on. Waitressing wouldn't cover all the expenses alone. Not if you wanted to eat and have somewhere to live.

And now, you're exhausted. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. This is it. You're done for. The one consolation being that you're pretty sure you managed to leave at least one of those men dead in your wake when everything went south. You're not going out unavenged.

Tommy drops to the ground beside you, the leg he's been limping on not able to hold his weight without your questionable support.

"Get up," he says, as if he's not slumped and trying to hold himself together the same way you are.

You don't need to see his eyes to know there are tears in them. You can hear it in his voice. You want to cry, too, but you're afraid the movement will only hurt worse.

"There's no point," you say, reaching out for his hand.

It's sticky and the fact you know exactly why is enough to make you overlook the pain to give a quiet sob.

"I love you."

The words are apologetic. The way they always are when he's screwed up. You say it back, anyway, squeezing his hand with the last of your strength.

At that moment, lights flicker somewhere to your right. A sign bearing the words All Night Cafe. You're sure that wasn't there a second ago, but the shining words are like a beacon of hope.

"Baby, look," Tommy exclaims weakly, and you know he's having the same thought. "Maybe there's a phone."

A way to call for help. Maybe someone who can dress your wounds. Keep you alive until an ambulance comes. You take a deep breath for strength, only your overwhelming exhaustion stops your from screaming in agony as you pull yourself back to your feet. Helping Tommy do the same.

Together, you shuffle toward the relative safety of the small building. Practically falling through the loose-swinging door.

It's empty. Apart from the man dressed mostly in black, sitting in the booth nearest the door. Facing it. The suit he's wearing looks far too nice for his surroundings, as does the heavy coat draped over the back of his seat. He stares at the two of you, drawing deeply on his cigar.

"Everything okay," he asks casually, smoke billowing out with the words in a way that makes you uneasy.

"Phone," you gasp. "Help."

The only words you have strength left to manage.

"No need," he says. "You lost that chance five minutes ago. Fortunately, you've got a shot-" you don't like the way he grins at that "-at another one..."

OH HERE WE GO!!

I'm so hyped. THREE PARTS YOU SAY?? *buzzing*

I love your writing style already, I feel so immersed in this story! And when Blackie turned up?? Tommy go your creepy ass away, your time is up-

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #28

Devil May Cry - #28 - Anger Born Of Worry

*

At first, Vergil had not thought much of the stinger that the demon plunged into his brother’s chest.

Vergil had cut the stinger off and Dante had yanked it from his chest, the twins killing the demon together. Dante had complained about the blood on his clothes and joked endlessly about the incident. Vergil had been more than grateful when Dante finally quieted down about it. 

He hadn’t bothered worrying about Dante. He hadn’t noticed the way Dante started to lag behind him as they walked their way back to Nero’s home, where they’d been staying the past few days. Had only enjoyed his brother’s rare silence rather than question it.

It was only when he turned to tell Dante to hurry up already that he realized how bad things were.

Dante was pale, staggering along and sweating. Vergil took a step forward, and Dante collapsed roughly to the ground.

Vergil hurried over, checking to make sure Dante was still breathing. His breathing was harsh and shallow, but he was alive.

Vergil ripped Dante’s shirt, eyes widening at the agonizingly red infection spreading along the wound in Dante’s chest. The fact that it hadn’t healed yet was telling enough, but the obvious infection spreading far too fast was alarming.

“Dante,” Vergil said, shaking him a little. He got a hand under Dante’s head, lifting it from the ground. “Dante, wake up.”

Dante did no such thing, because he always had to spite Vergil. Vergil let out a noise of frustration and scooped Dante into his arms, walking swiftly to the house.

He let himself inside. Kyrie had taken the children out for the day, so at least that was one last headache he’d have to deal with.

“Hey,” Nero called from the living room. “How’d it go?”

Vergil entered the room and Nero leapt off the couch. “My foolish brother got himself poisoned.”

Vergil set Dante on the couch. He looked at the infected wound, feeling a spark of angry frustration because he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Let it run its course? Try to find a cure? Would they even have time if he did need a cure? 

No, he was the one being foolish now. Dante would be fine. He was a son of Sparda; a pathetic demon wasn’t going to kill him, not like this. 

“Vergil! We need to do something!” Nero said, pressing his hand to Dante’s forehead. “Shit, he’s burning up. We should at least clean the wound. What happened?”

“He was attacked,” Vergil said impatiently. “If you’re going to be useless and bother me with stupid questions, then leave.”

Nero pulled his shoulders back, the way he always did when he was going to argue. “He needs help.”

“Stupid statements invite you to leave, as well.”

Nero stomped out of the room. Vergil stared after him for a moment, then glared. Leave it to the brat to throw a tantrum right now, of all damn times. 

He was just starting to turn his attention back to Dante when Nero entered the room again. He had a small bucket of water, several washcloths, and a medical kit. He knelt beside Dante and rested a damp washcloth over his forehead before beginning to disinfect the wound. Or try to disinfect it, at least. 

“That clearly isn’t going to work,” Vergil snapped.

“Well it’s better than doing nothing, which is all you’ve managed so far,” Nero shot back. “Bitch all you want. I’ll at least try to help while you go at it.”

“And what would you have me do?” Vergil demanded, furious with this idiotic child’s belief that there was anything that could possibly help Dante as he seemed to be dying before them of some unknown poison.

Nero stood up, not as tall as Vergil but drawing himself up to his full height. “I would have you stop snapping at me just because you’re worried about him. You saw whatever did this to him; go find it and research it so we know what this is.”

Vergil glared at him again. “I am not worried about him. He’ll be fine.”

Nero barked a laugh at that. “Listen asshole, if I inherited one thing from your personality, it’s the inability to just worry like a normal fucking person. You’re worried, and you don’t wanna be, so instead you’re getting mad. Suck it up and go find out what we’re dealing with.”

Vergil opened his mouth, but no response came out. His anger swelled, which he knew only proved Nero’s point, and he grabbed the hilt of the Yamato for lack of any other way to respond to feeling cornered. 

“Stab me, prick. But then you’ll have two dying family members and you’ll only be more pissed.” Nero turned his back abruptly on Vergil and went back to tending to Dante. “You can care about him. He’s your brother, and he’s not well. Go start the research so we can fix that.” 

Vergil could not take his eyes off Nero. When had that mouthy brat become so mature? 

And then he saw how badly Nero’s hands shook as he cleaned Dante’s wound, and how tense his posture was. He was worried, too. Maybe he was taking his anger out on Vergil, but with more control.

Vergil gripped the hilt tighter. He turned and headed for the room where Nero and Nico collected books on demons. Nero was right and there was something productive Vergil could be doing.

And as he left the room, he refused to let himself look back at how bad Dante was. He refused to let himself acknowledge the choking worry lurking within him for a brother he could never fully bring himself to hate.

[anonymousfiction211]

Ready to talk?

Summary: Loki can’t figure out why you are ignoring him. He finally decides to take matters into his own hands. Word count: 2.545 words Warnings: BDSM, Dom!Loki, restraints, use of safeword, aftercare A/N: This story doens’t really follow the mcu timeline. In this story Loki already has an established relationship with you, a mortal. And his mother and Odin are still alive. Hope you like it!

Loki looked up from his book in your direction. You were sitting on the opposite side of the couch, scrolling on your phone. You were wearing tight leggings, an oversized t-shirt and had let your hair loose. Your typical lounge outfit. He saw you tense up slightly and knew that you felt him looking at you. You didn’t look up from your phone or said anything to him. You hadn’t said anything to him all morning, and he didn’t know why. It was starting to get to him. ‘Is something wrong, dear?’ he asked you. But there was no answer. Loki just sighed and turned his attention back to his book.

He couldn’t get himself to focus, tough. Something was wrong and you were definitely ignoring him. He started to think about things he could have done, or said, that would get you so upset. You knew he hated it when you gave him the silent treatment, he had told you times and times again that if something was wrong, you should tell him. Loki was starting to get frustrated. ‘Just tell me what I did to get you mad this time?’ he asked more harshly than he intended. You still didn’t move or answered him. ‘FINE. Be petty if you want’ he grumbled while storming to the bedroom. He was hoping that if he left you alone for the afternoon you would come find him and finally tell him what’s wrong. Sometimes that would work, but not today.

If you wanted to piss him off, this was the way to do it. Loki heard you had started to cook dinner and it was smelling amazing. He walked to the kitchen and began to set the table, like always since he never learned to cook. You still didn’t acknowledge his present, but surely you couldn’t ignore him when you are sitting across him facing him. When he was done setting the table he sat down in his chair. ‘Smells amazing, darling’ he complimented you. He still didn’t know what was wrong, but he thought some flattery wouldn’t hurt. You turned down the stoves, grabbed your plate and plated your dinner. Then you turned and disappeared to the living room. Loki just rolled his eyes at your childish behaviour. He grabbed his own plate to do the same, determined to get you to talk to him during dinner. When he reached the stove, he saw there was nothing in the pans. You hadn’t made him any dinner. Loki was pissed off before, but now he was furious.

He threw the plate across the kitchen and it shattered against a cabinet. He took a few breaths, trying to get himself to calm down a bit, before confronting you. When he entered the living room he saw that he slightly startled you with his actions. That pleased him, maybe you finally would talk to him. ‘Will you finally tell me what’s wrong?’ he asked you through gritted teeth. You didn’t say anything, you just looked down at your plate and started to play with your food. The anger in Loki started to rise quickly. If you didn’t want to talk, he would make you talk. He grabbed your plate and smashed that one as well, by throwing it to the other side of the room. He saw your eyes widen and back away from him a little bit. He put his hands on your tights to hold you in place and leaned down to meet your eyes. ‘Last chance, tell me what’s wrong or I’ll make you’ he threatened. You didn’t look at him and still didn’t say a word.

Loki grabbed your waist and threw you over his shoulder. You shrieked and started to fight him ‘Let me go’ you yelled. He just laughed ‘Oh NOW you talk. A bit too late for that isn’t it?’

‘Loki. LET. ME. GO!’ you screamed at him. Loki didn’t react to your fit, he decided to ignore you. He loved himself some irony. He walked with you screaming and kicking to the bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and was on top of you in a millisecond. You were trying to catch your breath and Loki was delighted to see you panting already. He hadn’t even started. He let you catch your breath while starting to bite your neck and made sure to leave marks behind. When you finally caught your breath, you started to talk ‘Alright.. yesterday I..’ but Loki’s hand on your mouth cut you off. He noticed you flinched from his unexpected movement. He bit down hard in your flesh, almost drawing blood and heard you shriek against his hand. He moved up a bit to meet your eyes. He conjured up a gag and saw your pupils dilated, while you were starting to squirm.

He pulled his hand from you mouth and put the gag on in one smooth motion. He pulled your head up slightly to fasten it around your head. ‘Oh, the irony… I’ve been waiting for you to talk all day and now that you finally are I just want to shut you up’ he laughed to himself. ‘You’ve made me quite mad, and you know what happens when I get mad, do you?’ he said with a dangerous tone in his voice. You were still staring in shock at him and answered him. But it wasn’t understandable through the gag, so you just nodded your head, realizing you had pushed him too far today. He got off you and sat down on the edge of the bed. He grabbed you and draped you around his lap. You stomach were on his thighs, your head and feet were hanging down on either side of him. He slid down your leggings and underwear and started to massage your cheeks. When you let out the slightest moan he brought his hand down hard against your flesh. In an instant it started to burn, and you cried out. When he caressed your cheeks again the sting made you flinch. He didn’t wait long before he spanked you again, this time on the other cheek. You had the same reaction, and he repeated the same action again. He repeated your spanking five times on each cheek. You were sobbing, screaming, and begging against the gag to give you a break by the time he was done.

He pulled you up so you could straddle his lap. Making sure your ass didn’t touch his lap, since he knew it would still hurt too much. He wiped away your tears. ‘Doesn’t feel good to be ignored now, does it?’ he said a bit spiteful to you. You violently shook your head. ‘So, it’s safe to assume you wouldn’t do it again? EVER?’ he said. You nodded. He pulled you of his lap. He took your shirt and bra off you. ‘Good, now sit upright on your knees. Hands behind your back’ he commanded you. You did as you were told. Loki pulled the robe from his nightstand and tied your hands behind your back. ‘You remember the safeword right?’ he whispered in your ear. You nodded, you knew you had to snap your fingers if you really wanted him to stop. He pushed your legs a little further apart and laid down the hitachi wand right underneath your pussy, almost touching it. He sat the wand to the highest setting and left it buzzing beneath you. He got up from the bed and sat down the chair across the room. He grabbed his phone and started to type and scroll. ‘Down’ he said in a stern voice. You wiggled your legs further apart and felt the vibration off the wand right against your clit. A loud moan escaped you. You looked down when you heard Loki tap his chair ‘eyes. on. me.’ he said to you.

After a few minutes you couldn’t stop making noise. You were moaning, whimpering and did your best not to drool around the gag. Loki was still sitting in the chair looking at his phone, no matter how much noise you made he didn’t look up. ‘Up’ he said. You wiggled your legs more together and whined at the loss of vibration against your clit. ‘I just ordered some food. Unfortunately for you, it will arrive an hour from now’ he said. ‘Down’ he said, and you moved to feel the vibration against your clit again. He got up from his chair and put his phone on the bed before you. It showed a timer for 30 minutes, counting down. ‘I want you to go down for one minute and up for two, got it?’ he told you. You whimpered a bit but nodded. ‘Good girl. I’ll go clean up the mess I made’ he said. You were thankful that he was leaving, so you could cheat a little. He was almost at the door when he doubled himself. His double smiled widely at you and returned to the chair. ‘Oh, he stays there to see if you obey’ Loki shouted from the living room. That was the longest half hour from your life. At first it was easy to do, but after ten minutes your need to orgasm was becoming unbearable. One minute and the wand wasn’t nearly enough to give you what you needed. You were almost there, but the two minutes away from the vibration let your orgasm eb away so the next minute was starting all over again. By now you had lost the battle against the gag and were drooling uncontrollably.

When Loki came back he didn’t look at you. He immediately turned his attention to his double who was reading a book. ‘How did she do?’ he asked like you weren’t moaning and panting in the room. ‘She did just as she should’ his double answered. ‘I think she is close to her orgasm. She is really starting to make a mess’ he went on. Loki just smirked at himself. ‘Hmm.. should we let her come?’ he asked his double. ‘I don’t know, she was ignoring you almost the entire day.. maybe you should keep her in this state for the rest of the night?’ he answered. ‘That is true, but she did promise never to do it again’ Loki told himself. Meanwhile you were still moaning and listening with tensity. Wondering if he would really leave you here for the entire night. ‘Maybe you could let her off easy, but if it ever happens again you know what to do’ the double said before disappearing. Loki now turned his attention to you. ‘Down’ he said, and you did. He was watching you this time. From all the moaning he knew you were close, but he needed to push you further. You needed to know that if things got too much, you could still trust him. That whatever you did, he would always be there for you. ‘Don’t come’ he told you, knowing you wouldn’t be able to follow this command. Your eyes widened in shock and suddenly your orgasm shot through you. You muffled moans were loud and you were trying to fight your restraints.

Loki felt a little bad for doing this to you, but he needed to do it. He stalked towards you and saw the worried look in your eyes. You had disobeyed him, but you couldn’t take any more punishment. You ass was still sore from the recent spanking. Loki took the wand away and moved to sit beside you. He caressed your ass and heard you hiss against the gag. He made an over-the-top movement with his arm, indicating that he would spank you hard. Tough, he would never do that to you right now. When he brought his arm down you snapped your fingers. He stopped right before his hand connected to your cheek. He saw you beginning to sob. ‘Sssh.. it’s alright, darling. I’ve got you’ he shushed to you. He untied your hands and the gag and saw that you were trembling. He sat down on the bed and pulled you flush against him. He caressed your hair, whispered to you how good you were and waited till the sobbing and trembling stopped.

He put a finger under your chin and made you look up to him. ‘Go take a shower darling, The food should be here any minute. Are you doing okay?’ he asked you. ‘Yes’ you said with a gravel voice. ‘Sorry’ you added. Loki just pulled you tighter against him. ‘Don’t ever be sorry for that, love. I already told you so many times that no matter what’s wrong, you can always come to me. I will always be there for you’ he told you. ‘I know, it’s hard sometimes’ you answered. The doorbell ring and you got up to take a shower. Loki was setting the table again and started to plate the food. When you got out of the quick shower you saw he had changed the sheets, probably with his magic. On the bed laid your underwear, his sweatpants, one of his shirts and his hoodie. You put the clothes on and entered the kitchen. He had ordered Chinese, which he wasn’t particularly fond of, but he knew it was your favourite.

The two of you sat down and began to eat. Knowing this conversation needed to happen you started by saying ‘Sorry for ignoring you’. Loki took a minute before answering you. ‘I’m sorry too. It’s just, I’ve told you what my upbringing was like. I can’t stand it when you ignore me’ he said quietly back. ‘I know. It’s just I’ve heard your conversation with Thor yesterday. I know that he and you are planning to go back to Asgard for at least a year…’ you finally admitted while tears were streaming down your face. Loki was shocked for a moment before rushing towards you. He sat down on his knees and took your hands in his. ‘I am, but it isn’t..’ he was cut off by you. ‘How can you leave for a year and not be bothered to tell me?’ you asked him. ‘Is that really what you think?’ he asked you a bit hurt that you would actually think he would leave you. ‘Love, you know mortals aren’t allowed. But there are other ways in, and nobody would notice an extra servant’ he smiled at you. ‘What?’ you asked him. ‘That means you’re coming with me’ he told you. 

A feeling of relief washed over you. You were so afraid he would leave you that ignoring and fighting him seemed better than hearing him tell you that. But seeing Loki look at you like that, you knew you should have trusted him and talk to him about it. ‘But why are we even going?’ you asked him. ‘Well, it took some time persuading Thor and my mother. But they finally agreed to help me and hide you from Odin. Because I finally found a way to make you immortal’ he said proudly. You immediately grabbed him and kissed him fiercly. When you had no more air in your lungs you had to let him go. Loki just chuckled at your reaction ‘I told you I would never leave you’ he said.

[lvnatiq]

Random Relationship Headcanons | Felix Escellun x gn!reader

a/n: Hey ! On todays menu I am serving you modern au relationship headcanons. I know for a fact that I can’t write headcanons AT ALL yet here we are, out of spite I will keep trying until I can manage to write good shit. I’m going through a chaotic time in my life so please be patient with me 😭

I’m currently working on tattoo artist! reader x Felix headcanons and college!enemies to lovers one-shot. Knowing that Felix’s fav trope is enemies to lovers, I will post it hopefully before his new chapter drops. I used most of the hcs that were sent to me but if you couldn’t see yours, then it will probably be used on the other works.

No beta we die like men.

warnings: curse words, nsfw under the cut, random sage moments, felix being a ‘the neighborhood’ song basically.

You persuade him to start an Instagram account, and because of his family's popularity, he quickly gains followers. His account is practically empty because he would rather spend his time stalking your account on Instagram. You noticed the emptiness and wanted to take him out and take some photos for his account, which turned out amazingly. He is a little camera shy, so be patient with him.

You like to watch him apply his eyeliner but he finds it so stressing to do under your gaze.  He used to be able to do it easily, but it has now become one of his most difficult tasks. You wanted to ask for his assistance in applying eyeliner to you in the hopes of making it simpler for him; he agreed but quickly regretted it when he realized how near your faces would be. You with your eyes closed, waiting for him to drag the line as he was only thinking about how bad he wanted to kiss you. 

Felix has a Polaroid of you and stella in his wallet I said what I said.

When it comes to himself, he can be a pessimist, but when it comes to you, he is the most loving and positive boyfriend you could ever ask for. You have a dream ? He is ready to help you achieve it. Do you want to change in your life ? Go for it, He’s more excited than you are.

He can be quite insecure at times when it comes to your relationship because he feels like you deserve the world but the world is too big for his tiny hands. Will his cuddles be enough ? God he hopes so.

He almost cried when you told him you loved him for the first time. He's also baffled as to how you might feel the same way about him.

Drunk Felix is really clingy and honest. Whatever he can’t say sober drunk felix can and definitely will.

“May the stars let my death be between your glorious thighs amen-“ “Felix-”

Felix is weird but it add to his charm. It’s not unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night and find the pillow besides yours empty. In the dead of night, you will find Felix munching on some weird ass food combinations.

He also has a habit of doing things that are extremely adorable without even noticing it. Like walking around the house in his oversized shirts, his hand clutching at the cuffs whilst the other one sheepishly rubs his eye.

“Can I lay on your lap ? I promise I won’t fall asleep. I just need to rest for a little.” His voice is so soft and hushed. “Of course, come here.” He throws himself onto you as he comes hopping on his tip toes.

He falls asleep on his desk too often, so you have to carry him back to his room, where he snuggles against you while you lead him there. Once he's in his room, he insists that you stay with him, so you wait until he falls asleep as you play with his hair, and he wakes up thinking it was all a dream.

I firmly believe that Felix’s love language is acts of service. Like making you coffee and bringing you random snacks as you work or wrapping you up in fluffy blankets whenever he catches you slacking on the couch.

He's been romanticizing anything and everything since he met you. When he sees beautiful flowers, he wants to bring them to you, but he also believes that their beauty stems from the fact that they are alive, so he argues and stresses a lot when deciding what to do in simple situations like these.

His edginess belongs to his impulsiveness and his style only at any other situation he's a complete softboy.

And I'm certain he knows a variety of card tricks. He enjoys showing off, and he enjoys it even more when you become fascinated and beg him to share the trick.

If you're a morning person, you'll probably spend your mornings alone in solitude, finishing work before the day begins, but if you're a night owl, you and Felix will go out for night walks and Felix would go out for night walks, sharing headphones to play some music, enjoy each others presence and develop a habit of watching the sunrise together.

Felix makes you playlists at the most random times and with the most random names. Until one day he sent you a playlist at around 4 a.m called “you”, filled with his favorite music. He usually sees music as a safe space for himself and now that you are his safe place too it’s only appropriate for him to do so. This only further proves how he spends his time thinking about you.

I feel like Felix would have what most would call "attachment issues" but it’s mainly because of his protective tendencies. This is not to say that he’s this "overly jealous toxic" character; rather, he has never had anyone to truly call his own in his entire life so he would do anything to protect it.

Felix is also big on astrology, so if you want the perfect birth chart, he'll give it to you. Also he owns a lovely deck of tarot cards, and if you ask him for a love reading, he can't manage to keep his words and feelings to himself so he modifies your reading according to him and his desires. Let the boy abuse his powers for the sake of love.

His style could be described as dark academia, his wardrobe mainly consists of dark colors, lots and lots of blazers and a lot of oversized shirts. He also loves jewelry so he owns a lot of rings and chains. Just so you know, if you're wearing any of his rings, his heart is doing cartwheels.

Is it obvious that he loves it when you place your hand in his and play with his rings with your fingertips.

Spoil him. Buy him that baby blue hoodie with cat ears.

“Ah, you look adorable.” “Isn’t it a bit too b-big ?” “You could say that. Do you mind ?” “No, I like it that way.” “I would know.” You smirk followed by felix’s gasp. “If you so desperately wanted a cat boy you know you have me right ?” Nudging your shoulder, Sage leapt into the conversation. “What is he talking about ?”  Felix grumbled, only to notice two fuzzy triangular fabrics on top of his head as he brushed his fingertips over it.

He’s obsessed with your hands, kissing your knuckles, drawing circles in your palm. At a certain point it became an involuntary gesture he does it quite often without realizing.

He’s also canonically extremely blushy but he would never admit it. You’re convinced he uses some sort of make up because it is not possible for the pink dusting his cheeks to look this good.

He insists that you’re cold even in the warmest weathers because he wants to see you in his coat.

Sage forces Felix to take his thirst trap Tiktoks.

He really appreciates it when you add to his herbal tea collection without him noticing and he considers it a sign of affection because he takes his tea very seriously.

He loses it when you call him baby he gets flustered and frustrated but it’s all because it rolls off of your tongue so nicely that he can’t get enough of it.

Felix owns a broad collection of scented lip balms some of them are tinted. You didn’t hear this from me.

He never once took anything the Sage says seriously until he saw how well you two got along. He never thought that he would be standing there taking relationship and flirting advice from the frat boy.

Felix is a complete asshole when he wants to. He’s very verbal about it too. Consistent sarcastic remarks and eye rolls. I mean it runs in his blood, look at Escell.

You love it when he suddenly whips out the confident Felix, it’s not a daily occurrence you know.

When Felix is concentrated, he’s lost and there’s almost no way you or anything else can distract him. So it’s time to grab some colorful hair clips and ties to fuck around with his hair.

Felix is not the best at verbally expressing his gratitude towards you. He doesn’t know what he would do if you weren’t there for him at the lowest points of his life where normally he would close himself and bare the weight of his family problems and personal life issues that he can’t seem to get out of. Now he has you, someone who’s willing to listen to him and offer him a warm embrace when he needs the most. 

While you to play games together, when he wins he wears that iconic shit eating grin of his with pride looking at you through the corner of his eye. “Shit, what do you want me to say to that felix ? Perhaps I should call you master now that you won ‘one’ fucking round.” He is praying that the screen light is covering the fact that he is a blushy mess after hearing you say that.

NSFW

I cannot stress this enough but he is extremely vocal in bed. Whining, trying to restrict himself from making too much noise but failing miserably.

Muffled pants, choked sobs and lots of pleasure infused tears.

He loves getting praised during sex but what he loves more is to get praised after it’s all over. Like you telling him how great he was, how well he behaved, how good he made you feel. He experiences sub drops a lot so please assure him that he did well :(

He’s into power-play but not in a submissive or dominant kind of relationship, it’s more of a psychological thing where the fact that he can see how good he makes you feel gives him a rush of confidence and adrenaline.

I believe that this motherfucker is a masochist, pain makes him more excited than getting an update on his favorite author who went on a year long hiatus and that is saying a lot.

Bite him. Scratch him. It is so stimulating for him he can reach his high just from those actions.

Fuck do anything to his ears bite, lick, pull, blow on it. He is extremely sensitive so anything you do will basically drive him out of his mind. It will most definitely lead to him trembling beneath your fingertips.

You must think that you are the only one who is such a tease but you’re wrong. Felix teases you quite often mostly to direct your attention towards him or to keep your attention on him. He’s quite greedy when it comes to you and your hands on his body. Unbuttoning unnecessary amount of buttons on his shirt to show a little skin that he knows you’ll notice. Playing with his necklace placing the chain between his lips dragging it towards the inside of his bottom lip teasing the metallic charm with the tip of his tongue. He definitely ain’t oblivious he knows exactly what he’s doing and he makes sure that you know exactly what he’s doing.

When he’s in the mood he will tug the hem of your top meanwhile his eyes are glued to the floor or graze the temples of his glasses between his lips, his teeth lightly nibbling the pointy edge. He loves to play dumb too. When you question him, he acts like he doesn’t intend anything and that you need to get your head out of the gutter.

At the end of the session Felix looks divine. Drool leaking down from his bottom lip to his jaw line towards his neck, his bangs sticking on his sweat coated forehead, his chest rising up and down quickly. His eyes rolled at the back of his head, his hands still clutching tightly to the sheets. Faint whimpers and deep breaths filling the air.

Leading up to the after care, his shy self returns. He buries his face to your chest hiding his blushy cheeks beneath the palms of his hands.

He likes to experiment a lot and you are his favorite subject.

It shouldn’t be surprising to find random kink definitions or role-play ideas on the search history of your laptop. After all Felix just asked for it to write an email, that’s all there is to it. That’s until you offer to try them out.

He doesn’t act upon his jealousy, what he does instead is that leaving marks on you especially around your neck and your chest where he knows it will show. Don’t cover them up if you don’t wanna deal with him.

“People just don’t appreciate art anymore.” “Felix these are, hickeys.” “Oh so now you are judging my art medium ?” “Since when proving Sage that I got railed by you is a form of art ?”

I didn’t see anyone point this out but whenever he is in the sub space he tends to be more on the bratty side. He starts of shy but his confidence builds up as the tension rises. Meaning that you should be ready to get your patience tested.

When you two are in separate places your suggestive words and tone leads up to phone sex, which Felix secretly fantasized about a lot. What made everything even more dirty was the fact that you didn’t know that he was laying on your bed surrounded by your scent and humping your pillow. Once you come back home you are greeted with a fresh pair of sheets on your bed. Apparently Felix decided to do you a favor and clean your room as well as the the whole house. He’s crossing fingers that you don’t notice because he knows that he’ll never hear the end of it.

Felix knows a lot about sex but his knowledge is based upon fiction rather than experience. So, naturally, he is more interested about learning specifically how your body responds to certain actions, what you enjoy and what you’re interested in so teach him. He’s a good student and oh well he’s a quick learner.

Pull his hair pull his hair put his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair.

When he settles between your legs as he ties his hair, he places the hairband between his lips and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. It’s his definition of torture.

Even though he doesn’t give off that vibe, he is very freaky if you would’ve known what his AO3 tags consisted of you would agree.

Tag list is open

[javierpinme]

The Catalyst

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: sexual tension, mention of Cara Dune is its own warning

Rating: T

Summary: You don't know why you thought you could make it one day without fighting with Mando. The tension has been building for a while and it looks like you're about to reach the conclusion of it.

A/N: I originally sent this in as a thot as an anon hoping I would finally stop thinking about it, but alas I couldn’t so here we are. I originally uploaded this on AO3 a week ago and realized that I never put it on here.

AO3

Masterlist

Want to be on my taglist?

The cheers of the villagers are a complete contrast to the earlier events filled with screams, flesh tearing, and blasters firing. The threat of the raiders is over. Mando and you have made it out alive with zero casualties. The only acknowledgement between the two of you after Cara and him solved the problem of the AT-ST is a stiff nod. Anything more than that would reveal your hidden feelings; you're not ready to unpack that one just yet. The adrenaline of the ordeal is shifting into a state of exhaustion. The familiar ache seeping into your joints and muscles that usually follows post-battle.

Mando is tired too. You can see it in the way he slumps his shoulders and his slower than normal strides with Cara. You walk to your temporary living situation and don't even bother to remove your clothes that more than likely have blood on it. You'll deal with your dirty sheets in the morning. You sit down on the edge of your cot and your boots are mocking you. Why did you have to pick shoe wear that involves you bending to untie them? Your muscles are screaming at you to relieve the tension building. There aren't that many comforts in the galaxy, but even the cot felt like a 5 star hotel bed when you feel like this. Mando comes into the hut shortly after though he never removes his armor. You respect his creed, but there wasn't a threat anymore. It can't be comfortable sleeping like that, but telling him would make it seem like you care. You don't, of course.

You don't usually feel the need to fill the silence, but you find yourself filling it. Goodnight. There's a pause from the other side of the hut and your mind starts running that you crossed an unspoken invisible line that the two of you created. Then you hear it. Goodnight.

There's warmth from the sun rays spilling onto your features when the sun starts to rise. You can see children running around off in the distance and you can't help the smile forming on your face hearing their laughter. They more than likely haven't known peace since the raiders started their wrath. It felt good to have played a role in that.

The stretch you do lying in the cot feels wonderful on your back. Out of the corner of your eye you see Mando in a similar state of relaxation. His hands are folded behind his head and his ankles crossed. He must have noticed you were awake, because he immediately breaks the moment by leaving. Does he ever stay still? You can't help the drawn out sigh that falls from your lips and close your eyes to take in the sounds surrounding you.

The sound of heavy footsteps cause you to open your eyes along with the feeling of something being placed on your on the edge of your cot. Breakfast. He brought you breakfast. Good morning, thanks. Morning. He says with a grunt at your appreciation of bringing you food. You lift yourself up with a groan to a seated position and enjoy the moment. It was too quiet.

You’re not even sure how you got here. The reason for your argument in the first place was drowned out by your inner need for dominance. You were at a slight disadvantage due to the towering presence of beskar, but what you did have going for you was your stubbornness and smart retort to his intimidation tactics.  You’re both vibrating with unresolved tension with no chance of release; nothing to redirect what you’re feeling so resorting to your usual vices which is screaming at each other.  

It wasn’t always like this. You used to make him laugh underneath that tin can sometimes. Sometime between being just a crew member to whatever it was that was beginning to develop between the two of you that was when the fights started. It was easier than dealing with the latter. The galaxy was too harsh for allowing anyone to feel love without anguish following closely behind. The only communication you seemed to agree on was silence, yelling, and sarcasm. It was easier that way.

You’re in Sorgan and it’s pouring outside. He’s trying to get you to go inside, but you’re so damn stubborn you refuse just out of spite. It doesn’t even matter that your clothes are soaked causing your body’s response to the freezing temperature. He can probably hear your teeth chattering from where he’s standing. The thunder and lightning isn’t helping. It adds another layer of the already volatile situation you’ve both found yourselves in. Why is it so fucking cold?

Dammit you’ll get sick. You’re not useful to me if you’re bedridden.

That’s it. That’s the catalyst. You're not sure if he can even see the glare you're giving him in the darkness, but you hope he does. You can’t stand to be in the same room with him anymore. Even just the thought of hearing him breathe at this point is a nuisance. It’s almost too much. It will kill you, you’re sure of it. I’m bunking with Cara. He’s lost his patience. You can tell from the heaving of his chest, but you can’t find it in you to care. You don’t need to see his face to know there is a scowl under there. You’re surprised you can’t see smoke coming out of that helmet. Why isn’t he saying anything? His body is so rigid and tense. You might have gone too far this t-

What are you doing?!

 He’s thrown you over his shoulders to carry you back to the hut you share. It’s like you don’t even weigh anything even with the extra weight your soaked clothes add. You would be impressed with his strength if you weren’t supposed to pretend how much you hated it so you thrash your legs in protest. You liked the screaming better. Now you feel like he’s treating you like a petulant child by giving you the silent treatment. He’s trying to make you look like the one with the temper tantrum because there might be witnesses. You’d be surprised if you didn’t wake up the whole village. He can probably feel how freezing you are and puts you down. Without saying another word he kneels down in front of the fireplace to create warmth in the room. The only sounds filling the room are the crackle of the fire and your own shallow breaths.

Your clothes. Take it off or I will.

You know you can’t keep your clothes on. You know you need to change into something dry, but you refuse again just to establish you’re the one in control. You’re in control. Not him. Realistically you’re aware you could get sick and you would probably need to stay in bed. Then you briefly wonder if he has a filter in that helmet because you’d definitely sneeze in his face if he didn’t.  How can you change when he’s made no move to even turn around?

It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

What?

You had argued about god knows what and you left to blow off steam the day before. By the time you made it back the hue in the hut changed from that orange soft glow that golden hour usually brings to a soft blue. It would have been pretty if you weren’t so damn annoyed still. Mando was asleep thankfully so no awkward dance of trying to ignore the other in close quarters. You watched the soft rise and fall of his chest signaling he was indeed asleep. He was almost tolerable when he was sleeping even with the snoring. Almost cute. Almost. It didn’t matter that you never saw what was under the helmet, but you would never give him any indication of that. You were so tired. You were physically drained from the day so you took off your clothes haphazardly and changed into a nightshirt to sleep your frustrations away. Tomorrow will be better.

You were awake the whole time and didn’t say anything? You seethed.

You seemed to be having trouble and I didn’t want to hear your complaining when you inevitably tripped.

He’s challenging you. You’re both very well aware the dam could break based on your next move and he’s not going to lay out all his cards. Would the fighting even stop? Even with the resolve of all your combined tension? You’re taking too long and he’s staring. It’s hard to tell when all you see is a black abyss in place for eyes, but you can feel them boring into yours with loathing or is it desire?

You’re going to get sick if you don’t change.

He cares, but he would never give you any indication of that. He takes a step towards you to let you know he wasn’t lying about his earlier statement. If you’re going to do this you’re going to make a fuss about it. It’s childish, yes, but you don’t have it in you to care. It’s better than laying out all your cards. He can’t enjoy this if you’re glaring at him. I hate you. No, you don’t.

Never losing eye contact you start untying your boots. Glare. The cool air is doing nothing to calm your heated skin after your shirt is removed, but you can’t decide if the temperature is rising from anger or something else. Don’t enjoy this. Too late. The rain is still roaring outside and there’s almost an electric charge in the room waiting to spark. It’s too quiet. Then he says,

Glare all you want but this is doing something for me.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Okay rockstars, settle down

rockstar!bucky barnes x assistant!reader x rockstar!loki laufeyson / masterlist

summary; having previously worked for loki, it causes a heat to burn within bucky’s already accumulated hate towards the musician / warnings; threesome, smut, mxf and mxm sex, mentions of sex with other characters, oral sex (male and female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, double penetration, degradation, swearing, orgasm denial, cum eating

“Can’t believe you worked for that wanker.” Snarked Bucky as an image of the well known, musically spread, and acoustically acclaimed, Loki Laufeyson was shown on the screen of the dressing room television, as the other artist stretched his clothing bare arms across the back of the couch. “Come here sweet cheeks.”

At his command, you dismissed the paper work for a moment, trailing over and straddling the inked hunk’s chain belted lap, digging your manicured set of nails into his shoulders, as you seated yourself over his crotch. “I’m happy I work for you now Buck, you treat me so good.”

Punctuating your words, you pressed your teeth into your bottom lip, giving it the appearance of being more plump, as you batted your dark eyelashes up at your employer. “I do, don’t I?” He rhetorically asked, skimming his fingers across the length of your arms, before moving them to sloppily cup your jaw, ensuring that you would not look away from his wild and dilated pupils. “Tell me what I do better than the lead singer of the god of mischief.”

At his words, a small yet peaceful contortion of uncomfortableness split a skin grafted line through the centre of your forehead, stating that you had no wish to do so. And thus, as punishment for your self aversive silence, Barnes braced his knuckles into your skin, causing you to keen out, and tap his shoulders in verification for surrender.

In turn, you lowered your hands, dragging the tips of your nails, absentmindedly running them down the expanse of his waxed chest, conveniently passing the silver hoops that were attached to his nipples on the trail to a less dominant ground. “I prefer the way that your songs have a heavier bass and-“

“Uh uh uh, not the music. Think of something that has you, let’s say, screaming, but definitely not in a crowd. Though, we may have to try that one sometime; show the world how hungry you are to assist me.”

“You, James Bucky Barnes,” he loosened his grip to your relief, which lead to you hugging in spite, “are the best fuck I have ever endured. Loki has nothing on you, he deems himself a god of the arts, but he doesn’t see how you paint me so perfectly with your cum, nor how you bend my body to your whim, as though I am a tool in the midst of your creations, useful, but disposable.”

“I like the sound of that doll. Disposable, now that really does you make you sound like my personal cum dump.”

“That’s was certainly interesting to listen to...”that voice had your body jolting in shock, and it appeared that Bucky too was surprised by the presence, though, he steadied his well versed hands on your hips, claiming you to the intimate spot.

“What the fuck are you doing in my dressing room you greasy haired weasel?” Bucky sneered, his nose turning up at the sight alone of his competition in the lyrical world. Loki, he had graced you with his presence, and you had to look away; he admittedly looked good.

His shirt was open chested, leaving you with the memorable impression of all the times that you had left crescent marks upon that particular surface, a few times you had even drawn blood, but that had only fuelled his mission to fuck you into a propeller of urgency.

“Our new album Laufey has just been released, I can confirm my dear, you shoulda stayed around and knelt in our success. The records are certainly going to have more sales than what was it called again? Ah yes, the red star. I could tell it was about this one, so much passion, a sultry tune, that did little to justify what it means to be with her.”

Loki’s hands waved around as he spoke, and you could only picture the past whence he penetrated your with those long and talented fingers of his. He had drawn orgasm after orgasm out of you, resulting you to be nothing more than a withering mess, as he digressed the option to simply stop. There was nothing simple about him, nor the time that he demanded that he shared you with his brother.

That thought alone had you mindlessly grinding upon Bucky’s covered cock, plucking at your lip with the keys of your teeth, though Bucky’s voice brought you back to reality, causing you to pause your movements embarrassingly, venting a clear out of your head to process the situation that was before you. The two were bickering like two teenage girls, and it was quite exhausting to listen to.

“Answer the question trickster, else I’ll have you fed to the infamous black panther, and let’s just say that he is the best bodyguard I have ever hired. So, are you going to speak, or will I have you dragged out of here like a damned serpent with a noose around its neck?” Bucky threatened, gritting his teeth together, his nose straining in frustration, drawing more attention to the small stud on the right side of his nose.

“Looks like she needs me Barnes, perhaps your reputation does not proceed you. But to answer in full, my band have made quite the rise, and I thought it would be... fitting to pay you a visit. Though I had no idea that this wonderful woman would be here, pining on your lap like some feline in heat. I see she’s fucking you now, after all my suspicions are never wrong. Or we’ll, Heimdall’s train of thought always ends up at the right station.”

“Can the pair of you stop, for one goddamn minute!” Your hands obscured a path into your hair, as you glared back and forth between the pair of rival rockstars. “I am here, dammit! Stop talking about me as though I am not here, a part of me wishes that I wasn’t so I didn’t have to listen to your bitching.”

Without any thought, you clambered from your perch on Bucky’s lap, walking towards the raven haired gentleman, pointing your finger in his face as you accused him. “You’ve got your point across, but I’ll tell you something. If you don’t leave, Heimdall will see me putting my foot up your ass.”

“Does she speak to you like this Barnes? I thought she had loosened up in more ways than one when I allowed Thor to stretch her cunt, but it appears that that mouth of hers has gotten a little out of hand also. You should do something about that, or else you’ll lose her to someone else like a did. Who knows, could be Romanoff, heard she has a thing for brats.”

Natasha Romanoff, a diverse woman in her ways and songs. She was the queen of the rock culture, tormenting her workers with her verbal abuse and it would undoubtedly be no different for her assistant. If you were to be under her employment, it was certain that you would not get out alive, nor work for another talented person for the rest of your life. To cross her, was a vow to sign your own death certificate, it was plain stupidity, yet people still hustled with her and her limits, resulting in their chances of ever getting hired for any job, vastly slim to none.

At the lack of defence that Bucky provided you, you felt small, your shoulders slacked as you were tortured with Loki’s cold and silky gaze, more so when the man stood up, pressing his bare chest against your back. You could feel the rings that hung off the buds that adorned his chest coil and dig into your back, shrouding your demeanour substantially.

A part of you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to abuse Loki’s face with his fist, specifically the right, since it was the bearer to a chunky silver ring. It’d leave quite the print, however, the unexpected unravelled as his enquiring tone was aimed not at you, but Loki instead.

“You let your brother fuck her, hmm. Maybe she should learn her manners by being shared, that way her retrospective spattering of bullshit may be contained, to a limit of course.” It was unbelievably, you could not believe that Bucky was conferring with the enemy! And not only that, they were talking about experiences of having you literally become speechless from their unprofessional administrations upon your body. “I’d get T’Challa in here, but I know she’s already fucked him. Can’t quite fire him for it though, because who could ever say no to those pretty eyes, and that mouth, god, it is definitely one of her most persuasive attributes.”

“Bu-“ you didn’t even get to finish imploring his name off your lips, about to defend yourself and your previous actions, though, you were interrupted, starved from the opportunity of coming up with an explanation.

“No.” Loki told you, the roles now reversed as he was the one with his index finger aimed at you. He tapped your nose with it, as he began to pace in the room, his wild locks remaining in their place as he spun, before facing Bucky, a sly tranquility of a truce veining out from the pools of his evergreen orbs. “You don’t speak a word to me y/n, not whilst I’m having a conversation with James here.”

James. It was too far a polite way for him to address your boss. They were all hot and ready to tear out each other’s throats a moment ago, and now here they were, having a silent conversation without your inclusion. It had you reeling your mind as to why, until Bucky gathered your hair in his hand to the side, sliding you y/h/c locks over your shoulder, and finally deemed it acceptable for you to hear his voice.

Though, he still was not directing his tensive words in your direction. “Since you had dealt with this subordinate behaviour from her, perhaps you’d like to join us; help me train her to become more...” His breath fanned your the top of your ear, making your skin crawl by not only his warm and inviting breath, but also the offer that he had supposed to the other man.

“Obedient?” Loki asked in turn of his wispy ended offer of optimism, his leather, sharp tipped boots taking a prominent, heart clenching step towards you. He reached his finger out, grasping a loose strand that had fallen out of Bucky’s grip and before your face, tugging lightly on it, as his lips came dangerously close to your own. “Rules aren’t your forfeit, are they my dear? The best assistant I ever hired, with all those unique ideas floating around in that independent head of yours, but you’ve always been troublesome. I remember the time that you bit my cock that day you had attitude. I reckon Bucky here could do a better job.”

“Then why doesn’t he?” You hissed as said man tugged on his handful of your hair, instantly making you regret your phrase in the moment. To a halting surprise however, Bucky released you, lightly shoving you to cause you to fumble forwards, and away from him.

“Maybe I will.” He dared, earning a nod from Loki, whom seductively began to unzip his loose trousers, as Bucky descended to the ground, his hands running up his rival’s thighs, as the material dropped around Loki’s ankles. It would seem, that he had gone commando, and as Bucky grasped Loki’s shaft, you felt a pull in your chest inherently demanding that you play some part in this fornication.

“Wait.” Your hand shot out, as though you had some force to stop them from continuing with their war path to exact all of their developed spit onto you. “What about me?” You were ss

“Oh no doll, you are not pulling any strings here, if you wanna do something useful, come here and warm my cock, you can watch me blow your old associate.” A slither of a whimper fell from your lips, it wasn’t exactly what you were prying towards, but you sure as hell were not going to refuse the contact that Bucky was obliged to give you.

Thus you wandered towards him, your pinkies curling around one another, as you sashayed to the ground beside him, watching as he paid Loki no mind for a moment, ruthlessly in a desperation fuelled motion, unbuckled his thick belt, and shoved the material of his leather trousers to be held accountable against his lower thighs, just above his tense knees.

He too, as their exteriors supposed, had forgone the extra layer that kept his cock tucked away, though it was exposed as he tugged those tight trousers down, and the sight of both his and Loki’s cocks bobbing in the same vicinity had you close to quivering.

It was somewhat of a dream portrayed in the viscous space of reality, the two men half undressed in then proximity of yourself, it was something that you had always imagined, even before you had left Loki’s side, and opted to work for Bucky, but the idea was definitely short lived. They hated each other, but apparently they were willing to put all their issues aside to prohibit you from freely running your mouth.

Bucky’s cock twitched as he patted his own thigh, ordering you without the aid of his voice to commence it as a servant’s throne, or in your case, a stool for you to rest on as he tended to intimate needs of the man that you had once worked for. Finally, with the decision of better judgement, you allowed your grey jumper dress to slide down your body, leaving you nude, and the aspect of the two men’s unforgiving and locked gazes.

“No underwear, and you wonder why your men have no difficulty in her allowing them to fuck her.” Bucky took ahold of his cock, squeezing his cock with one hand, whilst his other aided you in sitting on his muscular legs, as he lightly growled up at the opposing rockstar.

From the stiff grip that Bucky affirmed around his sceptre, Loki gasped, his pale lips instantly shutting once the sound wantonly abandoned him. The last thing that he wanted was for Bucky to see him in vulnerable poise, though with that said, it’d be rather difficult considering the smutty circumstances.

Bucky took Loki’s long, alabaster prick into his mouth, starting from the primrose tip and descending down, reciprocating the action that you did yourself as you sheathed yourself onto his cock, but instead with his lips. A grunt rendered along Loki’s length as the man bit back a whimper, the vibrations running through his veins like a transpiring pulse of sorcery.

Bucky opted for bobbing his head, as you endured the liberation of his very slightly gyrating movement inside of you. Though, despite him being almost completely still and leaving you full to the brim with his thick length, his balls resting against the partition where he was delved into you, you remained transfixed.

The motion image, recording first hand through your own eyes, of him blowing Loki was sinful, but you were drawn to it. If that made you a sinner, one endorsed by the graphic scene, licking your lips from the sight of Bucky running his studded tongue up the length of Loki, dipping the ball of silver metal into his slit, then so be it.

Your heart raced as you were met with an opportunity. A globe of saliva, strung by the lapping muscle of Bucky’s tongue dropped down; you practically saw its fall in slow motion. It was done before you could register your actions, you had leant forwards, catching the trickle of spit in your mouth, thinking not for a moment as you gulped the subjective liquid down.

Bucky’s pace increased, he gagged lightly as he jolted him further down his throat. Loki hummed, harshly grabbing Bucky’s dark brunette locks, biting his lip as he reimagined your little catch. It had him feeling close, and just as he was about to finish, precum furiously pooling out of his tip, Bucky pulled back, a smirk marking his features.

“You’re not cumming in my mouth, I don’t mind sucking dick, nor swallowing, but I have to practically listen to you jizz over your own talent, and prowl over my girl.” The name he labelled you with had your heart fluttering, but not nearly as much as when he lightly pulled out of you, infuriating you with the lack of any pleasurable esteem. “Don’t you worry babes, you can finish with me inside of you, like always.”

That used to be him, Loki thought with a brewing rage in his chest. Though he instead shrugged out of his dull patterned striped shirt that was already loose on his shoulders. The fabric hit the floor, leaving all of you barren to the subject of nudity.

“Always doesn’t suppose the past Barnes.” Loki stated, referring to all the various times that he had found refuge in your spongey walls, you willingly clenching around him, and pleading for him to hit a deeper spot within you. “And I do not prowl, I don’t need to. The evidence is there between her legs, coiling in juices surrounding her ever so willing folds, that are prepared to endure the harshest of penetrations.”

“What are you trying to do, write a fucking song about this?” Scoffed Bucky, rolling his crystallised orbs at the guts that this man had. If he so much as wanted to, he could stop this passage into a three way all together, but he did not, at least he had yet to. He was enjoying the way that you were squirming to yourself, thinking that he didn’t notice, squeezing the sides of your thighs together in an aroused matrimony.

“A fucking song would’ve the correct term - literally.” Was the affirmed words of Loki, as he shoved Bucky to be sat beside you, tilting his messy brush of crazed hair, his untrustworthy eyes drifting to you. “Who’d you want to fuck you, you fangirling slut?”

It was truthfully a difficult decision. “Both.” You admitted, your bones jumping as Bucky pinched one of your erect nipples, continuing to hold a sturdy clasp of his pads around the sensitive flesh; you couldn’t jut choose one of them. Not when they were both in such close range, bore in nothing more than their birthdays suits, talking about your quivering and diversely accepting cunt.

They knew that you couldn’t possibly refuse one or the other. You were vastly too hungry to be filled like you had never been before, shagged by two of three most well known artists in the industry, earnestly and mindlessly earning yourself a title within the circle of uptight yet simultaneously chill performers.

Perhaps, if Bucky we to ever potentially fire you, there would be another pursuer for your articulating talents on standby, awaiting for the moment that you walked out of his complex door to swoop you up as though they were a predatory falcon, flying off into a stationed sunset, those around seeing you as nothing more than a shadow of the ambient orb, but the one who had employed you finding you to be a sufficing inspiration.

Large hands swallows your hips, firmly controlling their angle as they grasped you in their strong, almost super human hold, lifting you so that you were tentatively tucked in a reverse cowgirl position on Bucky’s lap. It was the third time that you had been this close to him, it would almost be intimate, if your legs weren’t strewn in an open, all revealing splay, so that Loki could see your boss tease his tip around your entrance before sliding you down his length, extracting a strong wail from your churning throat.

Your own hand resented down, applying swirls of pressure down on your clit; it appeared that they were willing you to continue without interruption. Bucky lightly, despite the power that he was promoted to in this position, began to bounce you on his shaft, spewing small mewls out from your agape mouth.

Fisting his cock, Loki approached, Bucky reachin this seen hands down to spread te lips of your pussy, so that the other man was guaranteed a crude glimpse of you being stufffed. Though, you weren’t quite filled enough, for Bucky raised a brow and prompted Loki to allow himself to be pulled closer by your axed and whining aura.

He brushed his tip languidly against your buzzing clit, dragging through your slick and jab i at your delicate fingers before probing at the base of Bucky’s cock, and pushing inside, right along his rival’s length, the pair moaning out in a pleasured union. On the other and, you had tears falling from the crescents of your eyes, the stretch so much that it was a blistering pain to your cunt.

“Don’t go all meek dear, you and i both know this is far from the first instance where you’ve had more than one cock in this nasty, betraying cunt of yours.” Loki taunted, gripping the vulnerable expanse of your throat from behind, his icy glazed skin sending provocative shivers down your spine, making your pussy pulse from the chill that ran through your body.

And then, i a split instant, both cocks began to piston into your walls, as though you were nothing more than a rag doll, meant o be thrown around and handled in a disorderly fashion. They ere ruthless, groaning out symphonies in the cursive air around you, as your walls engulfed their pricks more than snugly.

You felt so wide down there, they were taking a pirating toll on your body stealing every breath that dared wither from your lips, tweezing their nimble fingered around various parts of your body, all in due retrospect or coerce you into fucking them back, making all actions in the mass of bodies a mutual effort.

Loki lowered his head down meeting Bucky for a sloppy, brash kiss. It was clear they were simply doing that part to fulfil a greedy desire in your stomach, but you were not one that minded. It was, like the rest of their frenzy of collaborations, a competitive mess. They nipped harshly at each other’s lips, ravenously all in the meanwhile ploughing your body with their har girths.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your tongue dribbled, earning satisfied, lust induced smirks from both parties that were currently penetrating you, making you writhe harder against their lengths a new flow of moisture weeping out from your hole, lubricating their movements further, it encouraging them to do nothing more than continue what they were doing, despite their better judgements.

The truth was, they were rockstars. They had no better judgement, which is why everyone like them needed someone like you. Their thought were clouded with one mission, and for once in their spent lifetimes, it was not to beat the others, at least not to a certain extent anyways. It was their assignment, delivered by their own hands, to bring you to the edge, and that’s physically what they reformed to do.

One of them were groping your nipples, whilst the other confined the same treatment to your ass cheeks. Loki found your Rocky enables of positive feedback to be icicles and they were beautiful, he stared at them, as though they were divine ploys extracted from the mythical kingdom of Jotunheim, their residence in the realm to be the peacemakers of all bountiful creatures, much like himself and Barnes.

A rich euphoric groan exuberated from Bucky as he allowed himself to spoil, but he tutted whence he watched Loki’s features suppose that he was to follow shortly behind. “Not inside of her.” Bucky growled, sufficing Loki to roll his eyes, and pull out, the man behind you furiously replacing your hand, rolling our clit in his grasp until a sinful scream enveloped the air, commencing them all to the fact that you had just came.

Loki found the show to be unfair, and instead, spilled his priceless seed onto the huffing skin of your stomach, you eyes fluttered shut at the warm feeling pooling onto you. You leant back, drawing your neck into a crooked angle as you swiped your tongue wordlessly over the piercing on Bucky’s right nipple, metal providing a relief to the heat that your body was and had been swarmed with. “ Last chance you’re gonna have t taste her sweet cunt.”

“You do certainly have some faith in this one Barnes, but I do doubt that it will be the last instance in which i am todo so.” His silver tongue pried at your cum soaked flesh, drinking up all the essence that you had to offer, onshore the flavour that Bucky had brought to the table, i the form of a succulent drizzling of Snow White cum.

As Loki finishes swabbing his tongue over your cunt, Bucky adoringly kisses you, much sweeter than he has before. It was sort, and almost chaste, but his blue eyes roamed your face, delicately observing the high points of your face, that were covered with a sheen of great force making you as he would put it, glow.

The pair of you weer exhausted, there was still some swollen was to his lips from where he had sucked off Loki. His hands cradled you around your waist, his feet kicking Loki back as you whimpered from opaque sensitivity. “I guess that was you bidding me a dew.” Sneered the trickster, fishing for his clothes, as he spared you a spark filled glare, to which you ignored.

Once he was situated back into his attire, he left the sex scented room,a hollow smirk chapping his lips as he strutted th a purpose out into the hallway, taking a left instead of a right, and creeping into barnes’ studio to see what the man was working on in the midst of his enduring tour/ He was always the trickster, and nothing different was to ever be expected out of him.

“That was good.” You mumbled, rubbing your ode lovingly across the scruff that coated his jaw. His fingers made small circles upon your tummy, humming contently as he remained sheathed inside of you. He had to admit, he preferred it when it was just him, but his lonesome, sheathed within your walls, feeling the small trembles of your walls around him. It was practically heaven, and he would say so if he believed in such a place.

A deliberate knock ruined the moment, as the man entered,he quarrelled with himself where her to casually look in the direction of the pair of you or to avert his sight around, and blankly at the all. “What is it T’Challa?” Grumbled the man inside of you, quirking a thin brow at the timing of his presence.

“Loki; he managed to get into ur data, and he’s leaked a whole bunch of your music.” Of course, Loki would not come here to simply gloat, there was alas something extra up his green sleeve, and now it was revealed.

“Son of a bitch!” Bucky made a move to stand, but instead prohibited a whimper out of you as hi ships jutted angrily tip on instinct. “Get Odin on the phone, we’re going to have a little chat about his slippery hands son!” Barked Bucky, prepared t do anything to bring his greatest threat down, compiling him into the put of hate industry, until he was forgotten about, unable to ever produce new music again.

“Talk to Sif.” You whispered, becoming the image of his assistant once more, even if his cum lathered cock was prevailing within a rut of required stress relief, growing in the conjunction of your wall with his body guard there. “She loathes him, and rightfully so. He got her kicked out and she has dirt on him that nobody else has ever heard. If you want to take I’m down, she is your in.”

The strict tone grammatically supported by your logical information was definitely turning Bucky on again. He could handle you more than fine without Loki’s aid, he was just a means to an end, as it was clearly shown in his priorities.

[nessinborderland]

Be Mine (01)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn't want an Alpha; you didn't need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

AO3 Link      Masterlist   

You can't do it anymore.

You collapse on the ground as you turn a corner, legs giving up on you. Whatever breath you have left leaves your lungs as you hit the floor with a hard 'thud'.

You can hear them behind you, running and howling like a pack of wolves on a hunt.

You happen to be the prey.

You had been careful until now; walking mostly at night, making sure no one was around when you went scavenging for food, keeping distance from others during games, masking your natural scent with all sorts of perfumes. Just avoiding people altogether. 

You had no idea how you got there, but you knew that, as an unclaimed Omega, you would be more at risk than anyone else. Alphas were rare, but if one happened to find you, you couldn’t imagine it ending well for you. Even Betas were a risk, as most could also distinguish you from a regular Beta.

And here you are, proving yourself right. Running from him.

You had been careless. You were tired, always on edge, always hiding. So you ate your portion of stale cornflakes after another sleepless night and headed out from your hiding spot. Completely forgetting about masking your scent. 

Your visa was almost over. You needed to find a new game. And so you did.

You are regretting that now.

A loud laugh from not that far behind you gives you the encouragement you need to stand up and run. Just run. If he catches you, you're done for. If he catches you, you're his.

You can smell him. That strong, masculine, unrecognizable Alpha scent. His is so strong that it almost overwhelmed you when it first hit your nostrils, back at the game.

Six of Spades. That was the game you had gotten yourself into; kill the predator or be killed by the predator. In a zoo. 

How fitting, you had thought to yourself as you climbed a tree to escape an actual wolf. You had seen at least four different species of predators. All animals that you were completely unprepared to defend yourself against, never mind killing. Your hunting knife could only do so much. Fortunately for you, wolves couldn't climb trees.

But tigers could.

You had felt the big cat's eyes on you before you could even see him. All you had managed to do was let out a gasp and close your eyes as the huge orange beast pounced in your direction.

Gunshots. A heavy body falling to the ground. A wolf whimpering; that might have been you.

And then it hit you; that overwhelming, strong, musky scent.

You had opened your eyes and, no more than twenty meters from you stood a tall man, dressed in black. Eyes locked on you. You felt a shiver run down your back, and the hairs on the back of your neck rose; you weren't sure if in fear or something else.

The tiger was dead. The wolf had run away. But there was a new predator. And he was looking straight at you.

An Alpha.

You had no doubt about it. Betas didn’t smell anything like that, but Alphas...Alphas were made to lure you in. To let you know who they were. Alphas and Omegas were biologically connected. It was almost impossible to fight the urge to possess and be possessed.

And you no doubt had the same effect on him.

You noticed when he took some steps towards you and then stopped. You saw how his eyes had sparkled, his body language shifting to that of a predator. You hadn’t dared to move, waiting for his next move. You doubted he was going to shoot you, but the man did have a gun. Before the stranger could give another step, a lion had appeared right behind him, taking his focus from you and allowing you to escape.

That’s how you got into the position you are in right now; running from the man with the sniper rifle. You had managed to keep yourself hidden until the end of the game, but he had somehow found your scent and was tracking you down, together with his crew.

You stop again, taking labored breaths as you hide yourself the best you can in an alley. If life taught you anything about Alphas, is that they don’t give up until they get what they want. You would know; you managed to be unclaimed through all these years out of sheer spite for your biology, and determination. And a lot of pepper spray. 

You try to think of a plan, a way to get them to lose track, but you can’t think of anything. If he got your scent, he will find you eventually. That doesn’t mean that you will just get on all fours and wait for him to take you. If it depends on you he can hunt you till he’s dead. You won’t be some Alpha’s bitch.

You hear footsteps getting louder, together with the voices of the people pursuing you. You can smell him, getting closer and closer. You have to act fast. You spot a ladder on the side of a building and try to get it down, climbing on top of some trashcans for easier access. He won’t be able to track you as easily if you go up. The ladder is rusty and doesn’t budge, even when you desperately pull it with everything you got. With a last angry pull, the ladder finally releases, and you start climbing as fast as your tired legs allow you.

“Gotcha!” exclaims an excited male voice as you feel a hand grab your calf. Your heart almost stops. “Niragi, over here!”

You glance down at the man grabbing you before kicking him right in the face with your free foot. The man falls back, holding his now bleeding nose in his hands, and you take that moment to continue climbing. You want the most distance from that Niragi guy as you can.

You don’t look back even when you feel someone climbing after you. You have to keep going. It's only four stories high. You’re almost at the top.

A loud gunshot. Pain sparks in your leg and you scream, almost releasing your grip on the ladder.

“You fucking idiot, who told you to shoot her?!” a voice growls, followed by another gunshot. “I want her alive and unharmed! Whoever touches her dies!”

You dare to glance down, and you see the body of the man you had kicked just moments prior, now with a bullet hole in his forehead. Then you lock eyes with him; your predator.

He's looking at you with fire in his eyes; like he wants to eat you alive. Your body feels his glare more than your mind ever could, and a warm sensation pools at your center. You can't look away.

He can smell it; of course he can. You're now much closer than at the zoo, and you can see his face clearly. How pretty he is. How his nostrils flare and his eyes go dark; scenting you. You’re glad that at least you’re not in heat; it would have been game over for you before the game even started. 

"You know I'm gonna get you, right?" he says with a malicious grin, voice low.  "I'm gonna catch you, and I'm gonna make you mine."

His words bring you back to reality, and you take the last steps up into the roof, ignoring the laugh of the man below you.

"Run little wolf, run!"

You pull yourself up and run as fast as you can. You're pretty sure the bullet only grazed the skin, so you ignore the pain in your leg as you jump to the next building. You are lucky houses here are all so close to each other. You keep running, not daring to look back.

You can hear him running behind you, catching up to you, and your eyes start tearing up. Your lungs feel like fire and your legs are cramping; you can't go on for much longer. You prepare to jump when a hand grabs you by the wrist. His touch feels like electricity against your skin. You both gasp and his grip soften. The sensation is so surprisingly new that you lose your balance and trip, falling. For a second, you wonder if this is how you die; falling from a building while in that hellish place.

The next you’re wondering how can someone smell so unbelievably good. 

He smells like spices; it’s delicious. You are pressed firmly against his chest, his arms around your waist. You’re sniffing his shirt before you can control yourself. Never in your life had an Alpha’s scent been so strong and so alluring. You want to lick him; to feel his skin against your lips and his taste on your tongue. You feel his face on your hair like he’s burning your scent in his memory. You let out a needy whimper when one of his hands slid up your body to grab a boob, squeezing the soft globe in his large palm. His hands feel so good on you. Warm and big and pleasurable

“I said I was going to catch you, little wolf,” he whispers in your ear, hot breath making a chill go down your body. His tongue licks a long strip of your neck and you let out a moan. He chuckles. “Now you’re mine.”

No.

Those words make you gasp like you have been burned, and you push him away from you. You belong to no one. And it will stay that way; you rather be dead than be bonded to some random man. 

“D-Don’t touch me,” you say, a slight tremble in your voice. “Stay away from me.”

His eyes darken and you gulp, looking around. You’re trapped; no way you’re able to run more. But you can fight; you have your hunting knife, while he seems to have let go of the sniper he was carrying earlier. You still have a chance.

“Now, why the fuck would I do that?” he asks with a lopsided smirk. “I can smell how much you want me. How much you need an Alpha to fill you up and mark you.” he gives a step in your direction; waiting.

Waiting for you to fight back.

You wouldn’t want to disappoint. You reach for the knife strapped to your hip, but...it’s not there. You freeze, eyes wide.

“Looking for this?” he chuckles in your direction, your knife in hand. He’s taunting you; playing games. You take a deep breath and lock eyes with him. How did you not feel him steal your weapon? You can feel your anger building up. You’re tired, you’re hungry...you’re furious.

“Give it back!” you command, fists closed, “And I don’t want anything to do with you so fuck off!”

The smile on his face falls, substituted by a scowl. You can feel the anger radiating from him. That only makes you angrier; he has no right in feeling that way. You’re the one about to be taken against your will. You jump and try to grab the knife, but he’s faster than you, trapping you against his chest. 

His skin touching yours makes a wave of heat spread through your core once again, but this time you ignore it as best as you can. You feel him press himself against your backside; hard and warm. Your mind fogs and you release the grip you have on his forearm.

Maybe you could...just for a moment. Your wolf mind keeps screaming at you to accept what you were born to do; be a baby-making factory to some random man with high testosterone levels and ego issues.

The back of your head hits his face with a loud crack; you hope that was his nose breaking. You crouch to grab your knife, now on the floor, but he’s on top of you before you can even touch the handle. You both fall on the hard roof, struggling to get a hold of the damn knife first.

“Stop!” he has you pinned down on the cement, one hand holding your wrists down. You’re trapped; now without a chance of escaping. His other hand has your knife, now pressed to your throat. His eyes burn like coals and half of his face is covered in blood. You feel a little pride at the sight, even if the blood has stopped falling due to his Alpha healing. He presses the blade against your skin. “What the fuck are you trying to do?” there’s a hint of confusion in his question. “Do you know who I am?”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” You reply, struggling against his grip. The blade on your neck nibs your skin and you stop. “Do it. Kill me.” You know he will never hurt you to that degree. He was biologically programmed to protect you; he has to be fighting every instinct in his body to even be able to hold that knife against your neck. You notice how his hands are slightly trembling. “I dare you. Slit my throat; it’s the only way I’m leaving this roof with you.”

His eyes go wide for a second before he lets out a sudden laugh. He buries his face against your neck, and you feel the sticky blood get on your skin. You don’t dare to move or take more than a shallow breath; you’re too scared of losing control of yourself again. He continues laughing against your neck, and you have to control the urge to moan at the proximity.

“I knew you would be fun when you just kept running, but this-?” he presses himself against you, firm and warm. You shudder; you can feel your control slipping away. “Refusing me even when I’m this close? Touching you?” his tongue is on your pulse. “Kissing you?” 

“Please stop-”

“-Biting you?” his teeth graze the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. You cry out, instinctively pushing against him, neck at his disposal. The marking spot; if he bites you there while knotting in you, you’re bonded. Your wolf is screaming at you to let go and let him take you. You need him. You want him.

The wolf is out.

Your legs are around his waist before you can control yourself. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and you can feel the wetness growing in between your legs. You grind your core against his crotch, groaning in displeasure at the lack of skin contact. His lips take yours in a rough kiss, his tongue pushing against yours as he kisses you senseless. He lets go of your wrists to handle your body, one hand on your breast as the other slithers down to your shorts.

You whine when his fingers finally manage to reach your throbbing cunt. He smiles in the kiss as he starts playing with your clit. You moan and your hands fly to his hair, pulling on the soft strands; you want more of him. He bites your lip and you pull his face further against yours. He chuckles when his fingers enter you without warning, swallowing your cries with a kiss. You move your hips against his hand, wishing it was his cock instead.

Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.

“More,” you whine against his lips. “Please- Alpha, please.” 

He doesn’t answer. His hand leaves your pussy with a wet sound, and you cry at the void he left with only his fingers. He doesn’t break the kiss as he gets rid of your shorts, throwing them somewhere. Your panties soon follow, and you moan when the cold air hits your swollen clit. His fingers go back to your pussy, now playing with the slickness that sticks to your thighs, spreading it up and down your slit. His lips move to your neck, where he sucks the skin right above your pulse. You whine and he chuckles, teeth nibbling your skin.

The hand on your pussy rises, fingers glistening with your slick. His eyes glint when he sticks his tongue out, licking his fingers clean of you. You gasp at the sight. He moans like it’s the best thing he has ever tasted. 

“Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he says, lust-filled gaze locked on you. “So beautiful.” You blush at the praise, wanting more. You want whatever he has to offer you. His fingers go back to fucking your wet entrance, and you feel your eyes filling with tears; you want more, more, more.

“Alpha, I need you-” 

“Now this is more like an Omega,” you can hear his belt as he fumbles with his pants. You open your legs wider; hoping. “All wet and ready for me to take.”

You scream when he slides inside you, thick cock replacing long fingers. The feeling is unlike anything you have ever felt before. The Betas you fucked during your exasperating heats can’t compare. Nothing can. You feel so full. So deliciously filled to the brim. You never felt pleasure like this.

You moan as he roughly thrusts into you, moving your hips in time with his shoves. His cock touches all the right spots, and he feels even deeper every time he penetrates you. You can feel the pain as the cement floor grazes against your back and bottom, but that doesn’t matter; you have something more important to focus on right now.

“You feel so fucking good,” he grunts against your mouth. You clench around him at the praise and he moans, eyes rolling back. “Fuck, do that again- oh shit yes! Good girl. So good, all ready to be filled to the brim with my cum.”

“Yes, yes, I- I want you.”

“Say my name, Omega,” his tongue starts licking your neck. “Niragi,” he gives a particularly hard thrust, and you yelp. “Say it!”

“Ni-Niragi!” You feel the name on your tongue. You’ll say that name until your throat turns raw. “Niragi, fuck me harder,” you beg. “Knot in me- please, please.” He does as you say, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. You arch your back as his cock abuses your g-spot with every shove. You see stars behind your eyelids; if you knew how this felt earlier, you would’ve let him take you right there at the zoo where he saved you. 

Niragi, Niragi, Niragi. Alpha, Alpha, Alpha.

“It’s such a shame you’re not in heat,” he grunts with a hard slap to your ass. You shudder and slid your hand in between your bodies, wanting to touch more of his skin. “I would love to knot and mark you right here.” He practically rips your t-shirt in a rush to take it off, exposing your hard nipples to the cold air. He buries his head in between your breasts, latching onto a nipple like a starved man.” Fill you up till I was sure you’re pregnant with my pups,” he continues with a lick to your nipple. You moan and clench around him again. “Make sure that everyone knows who your Alpha is, who you belong to. And I will. This is a promise”

Yes, yes, yes. You want that. All of it. All of him.

You can feel your orgasm growing, pulling at your core like it’s about to explode. He feels it too, and the hand previously pinching your nipple goes to press on your clit, taking you closer to the edge. You can feel how close he is too, thrusts getting sporadic and breath getting heavier. You stare at his face, actually looking at him; his eyes are closed and his mouth is open in a moan. You notice the glint of the piercing on his tongue, as you do the ones on his face. You take in the detail of his pretty nose, the shape of his eyes, his plush lips. Half of his face is still dirty with blood. He’s beautiful.

You feel a weird emotion go through you; something your rational brain knows is strictly biological, not real. But the wolf one is howling in happiness, absolutely delighted. You pull his face to yours and kiss him hard, wondering if he feels the same. Part of you is scared he does; the other is terrified he doesn’t.

“Come for me, Omega,” he moans against your lips. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”

Your orgasm hits you like a truck. You lay there as it flows over you in waves, legs shaking and mouth open in a silent scream of euphoria. It’s like fireworks inside you, consuming you. You wonder if you lost your consciousness when you feel him come inside you, filling you with his cum. You had never let anyone come in you before. But, as the warm sensation spreads inside you, you realize you love it. You want more. You feel like you will die if he doesn’t do it again.

Most of his weight is on top of you as you both regain your breath. He’s still inside, and part of you doesn’t want him to ever leave. But your wolf had what she wanted, so you’re able to regain full control of your mind again, fog dissipating to be replaced by shame and anger. How could you have been so weak? Now it would be almost impossible for you to escape; you weren’t bonded ('yet', your wolf happily adds) but now you had a connection. If bonding was like a marriage, what you had done definitely counted as engagement.

He feels when your body tenses up, raising his head from your chest. He looks at you through half-lidded eyes, waiting for your next move. 

“Was it that bad?” he asks after a moment. With a sigh, he kisses your breast before raising himself on his hands, one on each side of your head. He looks you straight in the eye for a beat, before sliding off of you with a hiss. You moan at the loss, especially when he stands up; you feel so cold without his warm body on you.

You don’t answer; he doesn’t look like he expects you to. Sitting up, you wince as you feel every pain your body has been ignoring until now. Part of your back and backside are covered in scratches from the cement floor; your cunt burns like it’s on fire, but now for a completely different reason, and your chest and neck are covered in fresh hickeys and small bites. Part of you feels like dying of shame, while the other is overwhelmed with joy by finally being marked by an Alpha. An uncomfortable feeling sits in the pit of your stomach.

You look around for your clothes, being surprised by your Alpha, no, Niragi, extending them in your direction. You take them with a mumbled 'thanks', doing your best not to wince as you get dressed. You feel his eyes on you, so you pretend he’s not there. You gather the courage to finally stand up, and his hands are supporting you before you can make a move.

His skin on yours feels again like a spark of electricity; only that now is familiar and, dare you say, wanted. You keep your eyes down as you stand up on wobbly legs, trying to ignore everything about him. But you can’t; not really. His scent is on your skin and hair; his cum is inside you and on your inner thighs. Even his blood is on your skin. 

After a moment of hesitation, you pick your knife from the floor; he doesn’t stop you. You feel like crying; this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You’re just trying to do your best to survive while being completely alone. And now this. 

A sob erupts from you with such strength that you feel him jump next to you. You hide your face in your hands as you sob uncontrollably, tears streaming down your face. Your mind is a mess, everything hurts and you’re so, so tired. You miss home, you miss your family, you miss your bed. You need a nap.

“Oh fuck, did I hurt you?” you hear the slight panic in his voice as he gets closer. “Tell me, what did I do?”

You shake your head and take several steps back; you need as much distance from him as possible. You turn to leave, a still defiant part of you daring him to stop you. As you expect, he’s on you before you can take more than a couple of steps.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” his tone is angry and confused. “You’re coming with me.”

“N-no.” you manage to say, sobbing. “I’m not go-going with you anywhere.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he grabs your hands, forcing them down so he can stare into your eyes. “You’re mine down, don’t you feel it in you?”

“We- we are not bonded,” you remind him. Remind yourself, “I- I can still leave.”

His eyes wide in an incredulous expression, like your words are the stupidest, most ludicrous thing he has ever heard. “Are you out of your mind?” he asks in a raised tone, “Do you actually think I’m gonna let you go?

“We don’t know each other!” you scream in his face. “I never- I never wanted this to happen,” your last words are barely audible as you keep crying. “We’re just two strangers forced together by something beyond our control.” 

You whimper when you feel him hesitantly touch your shoulder, before pulling you against his chest. You mumble a 'no' in-between crying gasps and lightly struggle against his grip; you have to get away from him. He ignores you, one arm going around your waist while the other awkwardly pats your head. You finally give up when you feel his lips on your temple, whispering something you can’t quite understand. Whatever he’s doing, it calms you down. 

You stay in his arms for some time. You hate how much you enjoy it; how safe he makes you feel. He killed one of his own, for goodness sake. You know nothing about him.

“Let me tell you something,” he says against your forehead. “I am not...a good person. I’ve done a lot of bad shit, and I will keep doing so. But if you come with me, I promise I will keep you safe.”

“I-.”

“Be mine,” he says. It sounds like a command until he adds a 'please', almost as an afterthought. “I don’t understand why you keep fighting, but I know you want me, even if part of you doesn’t know it yet.”

You let out a loud sigh; you’re tired of fighting with yourself. You review your options; go willingly or go by force. If you know one thing is that he won’t let you go. Quite possibly never. If you’re honest with yourself, a part of you doesn’t want him to. You don’t even know which one of you is talking; the human or the beast? Does it even make a difference?

You don’t think it does. Not anymore.

You raise your head to lock eyes with him. You can see hope in his gaze, but you also see determination and desire. You’re his now. And he’s yours.

“Okay,” you finally say. His eyes spark with something akin to satisfaction. “I’ll go with you. But I have some rules.”

He smirks, teeth spotted with blood, and you wonder for a moment if you made the right choice. “Sure,” he says. As long as you’re mine.” 

Next Chapter

[dingdonghyvck]

Still Into You || Lee Haechan x Reader

Summary: Not a day goes by that Haechan’s not into you.

Genre: Angst

Pairing/s: Drummer!Haechan x Lead Vocalist!Reader, Minor College Student!Mark x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, suggestive, mentions of sex and a few sex jokes, alcohol and cigarettes, cheating, manipulation of feelings, angst, and a few others I probably forgot to mention.

Word Count: 4.9k-ish

So I’ve been seeing a lot of Haechan drummer au’s on TikTok, so I thought fuck it and made one! I hope you like it :)

You can read Part two here: The Only Exception

“Can't count the years on one hand that we've been together,

I need the other one to hold you, make you feel, make you feel better.”

Donghyuck's pretty sure that you're the only person from high school that he still bothers to be around, it's been approximately 9 years since the day you two met. 9 years since the day he awkwardly sat next to you in seventh grade, 9 years since the day you drew dick doodles in his notebook as a form of icebreaker since you didn't know any other way of talking to him. It was safe to say that he was more than surprised to see flying dick doodles in his spiral notebook when he got back to class after lunch, still he was somehow amused by the scribbles and the little message you left him introducing yourself.

He immediately talked to you the moment you came  back inside the classroom with your earphones in. He still remembers it so clearly, the way you offered him the left piece of your earphones so you two can listen to music in secret, the teacher had already arrived and you two didn't have enough time to speak to each other. Donghyuck would say it was fate, others would say paramore's just too mainstream, but he didn't care. A cute girl liked the same bands as him, so he made it his goal to get closer to you.

And so you two bonded over music, something you both loved with your whole heart and soul. It was through countless concerts and after-school trips to the record store that got you closer and soon enough you two started messing with GarageBand, creating a few silly songs that were the epitome of teen angst, it was always in good fun. But Donghyuck suddenly came to you with a brilliant proposal one calm afternoon when you were hanging out his room.

"So there's like a battle of the bands at school every year... You sing right? Do you feel like making a band?"

"Yeah, sure..." You had shrugged mindlessly while painting his pinky finger black, mind a bit pre-occupied with what was happening back at home. But Donghyuck takes no notice from this, it was a simple reply but he didn't bother to press further, he could just rally up a few of his friends to start up this band, and if you ever do complain he can also scream blasphemy in your face. Plus he was enjoying the calm atmosphere, so he didn't want to ask any more questions. Well it was as calming as it could get since All Time Low was blasting through his bedroom's speakers, volume maxed out to the point it could make anyone’s ears bleed.

It took him quite a while to fill in missing band mates since you two weren't the most liked people at school, but eventually after a few persuasive talks over milkshakes you two have built a band by the end of February, a little too late for the battle of the bands event. But you all decided that it would be fun to congregate as the band geeks instead of going back to being the outcasts of the school. So practices were held in your basement everyday, you insisted on it since you were trying to spite your parents as much as you could, you hated your life at home, but you could bear the presence of your family if you had some friends around.

Skip a few years and here you are again as "The Innocents"—you honestly don't know why you agreed to the stupid band name, but you lacked the creativity and energy to argue with a caffeinated Donghyuck at 4 am when he had proposed it to the group chat. Although Hendery had complained fifteen times before practice that day, everyone still ended up in your basement, practicing for the annual battle of that bands event your school held, a final hurrah before ending high school.

Donghyuck loved playing the drums, he was drawn to the instrument since a young age so he did he have a natural sense of beat and rhythm. But what he liked the most was the view he got from the back. Not only could he watch the whole band work around the stage, he also had the best view of you. He enjoyed watching you jump around, how you would sometimes lick the side of Jeno’s face whenever you felt a bit mischievous, the way you would laugh at the middle finger he'd throw at you, the way you'd practically lay yourself down the center of the stage as you sang your heart out.

You naturally had the talent, that much was certain. Donghyuck always felt entranced whenever you took on the stage bravely, being the frontman was of course the most challenging position of all. But the way you handled the spotlight made it look so easy, as if you were made to be holding a mic since birth. It was as if you were dancing your own symphony and the rest of the band was nothing but a harmony struggling to follow through since your energy was too overwhelming at times.

But somehow you always made it work, no matter how much your band mates hated it, there was always something unique about the way you presented yourself onstage, demanding the audience's attention. No one was brave enough to even try being in your position, so they had let you bask in the limelight for the most part. But there was particular day you seemed different, as if you had been tuned down. There was something wrong and it was obvious enough to everyone that Jeno had to make up an excuse to leave early with Hendery. They had left abruptly to let you talk it out with Donghyuck, since well, he's your best friend.

Little did they know that you two have been casually fucking for the past year since the time Donghyuck confessed his feelings for you. You haven't given the relationship between you two a label since you weren’t really one to be tied down, but he was glad enough to be even be able to hold you.

You reveal to him that your parents were about to get a divorce, and as much as a shock it was to receive this news, what shocked him more was the moment you sat on his lap. You two were still situated in front of the drum set, but Donghyuck didn't seem to mind. So he helps you take your seat, arms wrapping around your waist as your fingers find its way onto the little hairs at the back of his neck, Donghyuck gulps when he sees you bring out a stick of cigarette.

"What? I'm stressed," You smiled wearily as you lit the cigarette. You take a sharp inhale before blowing the smoke to his face, he scrunches his nose.

"Are you sure you're okay? divorces can be-"

You cut him off by placing the lit cigarette to his lips, the tiny smirk on your face made him frown. You raised an eyebrow at him while you waited, you really didn't feel like talking about your parents, so you evaded it the the same way you'd usually evade him whenever he brought up anything about feelings. He paused for a moment to look at you before inhaling from the cigarette, immediately coughing afterwards. His eyes a little teary as he muttered a small "jesus christ”, you giggled before taking his face into your hands. You push back a few strands of hair as you admired his forehead, he had done nothing but stare back at you.

"Don't tell me you'll leave me too" you whispered as you nuzzled your nose against his neck.

Donghyuck lets out the breath he was holding, gently caressing your backside as he chuckled, finally relaxing into your arms. He knew that it was wrong for you two to not speak about your personal lives that much, since it was pretty obvious you were having troubles at home. But he knew how much you hated to feel feelings, so he never overstepped boundaries. He lets you be for the most part, except for times he reminded you that it’s okay to open up to him. You were always quick dismiss him, telling him you were a big girl and you didn't want to bother or burden him. As much as he'd like to keep insisting, he'd rather just leave you be.

"If I say I love you will you stay forever?" you mumbled as you kissed the mole on his neck, smudging a bit of lipstick on his sun-kissed skin.

Donghyuck felt his heart drop to his stomach,  taking your face into his large palms, caging you into his gaze to see if you were joking, or if you had any doubts behind your gaze. but he was met with the softest gaze he's ever seen on you. Your mascara and eyeliner were running down your cheeks, the little black heart you drew in this morning was smudged to a dot on your pretty face. And a few might say you looked like a mess as tears rimmed your eyes, donghyuck could only think about how much he wanted to kiss you.

"You'll always have me" he whispered, bringing your face towards his. It felt hot, too hot that his skin actually felt like burning the moment your hands touched his backside under his shirt. the kiss was passionate, filled with so much heat and lust that it felt dangerous, he was seconds away from being burned alive; but you suddenly pulled away.

"I love you," you whispered against his mouth, lips brushing past each other as each syllable left your mouth. Your nose gently touched his as you breathed him in, gripping onto his biceps as best as you can, desperate in needing to feel him against you.

Donghyuck does not reply, he simply brings your lips back to his. And as much as he wanted to be more gentle, to take his time with you and make you feel how much he worshipped your body, but your passion burnt too hot that he couldn't smother it. He lets it consume him, his whole being as he loses himself in you, too consumed by your flare and embers to notice how he was slowly burning himself out, that he himself was going to be smothered by you.

“It's not a walk in the park to love each other.                                      

But when our fingers interlock, can't deny, can't deny, you're the worth it.”

"Why are you making such a big deal out of this!?" you screamed, eyes reddening from stress as you pulled at your hair, hard enough to rip a few strands out.

"Johnny's just a fucking friend!" you continued, about to leave the room to run away but he cages you against the wall, hands gripping your shoulders harshly, he was bound to leave marks.

"Baby i'm pretty sure friends don't suck each other off in restaurant bathrooms" he snarled, his voice masked with so much venom that if it were a different person they would be quivering with their knees buckling, but you were different, so you stood your ground.

"I already said I love you what do you fucking want from me?" you laughed coldly, crossing your arms against your chest.

"Love... I'm your boyfriend, I don't know how fucked up your brain is, but don’t tell me you don't know what a boyfriend is." he groans in annoyance, pushing himself away from you. The fighting had been so frequent that you two would be at each other's throats more often than not. The added stress from university and his side jobs was finally ticking him off, he was at his breaking point and he didn't know how long he could still be with you when you were blatantly cheating on him.

"Let's break up then." you muttered, looking down at your feet.

"Fine." He mumbled in defeat, taking a seat on the couch. He buries his face into his palms, trying his best to calm down while his breathing increased. He didn't realized what he had agreed to until he heard his door slam shut. That was the moment he knew he made a mistake, he had let you go too easily. You on the other hand, couldn't help but be the happiest you've been the whole week, finally free. And while Donghyuck was left to try and fix what was left between the two of you, you were out to get coffee, living freely as if nothing had happened.

“Cause after all this time                                         

I'm still into you...”

You sang with the tiniest smile, hiding behind your bangs as you tried your best to jump around the stage and keep eye contact with the blonde male sat front row. It's been 8 months since you and donghyuck broke up and yet you've already found a new boy, some dude you accidentally spilled coffee on. Some random dude who asked for your number and you easily said yes, some random dude that caught your eye. Although it's been months since the breakup, Donghyuck couldn’t help but feel bitter; you had broken his world in half and somehow you still looked fine.

A normal person would walk away. A normal person would leave you and realize how toxic and dangerous you were to the people around you, how you pushed everyone away the second they get too close. But somehow Donghyuck was different, he doesn't know why or how he's doing it, but he sticks by your side. Agreeing to still be in the band and staying as friends, since of course we all fuck our best friends once in our lives right? But like the dumb lapdog he was, he accepted your apology at 12 am in the morning when you showed up drunk at his doorstep. Maybe it was the side of him desperately clinging onto you, looking for some sort of closure or any sign of you regretting the breakup, but months had passed and the days seemed normal for you.

He knew how wrong it was, don't mistake him for someone who's stupid enough to let a girl trample over his heart. He somehow just couldn’t keep away, you had broken him to the point that he didn't want anyone else unless it was you. It really was all so stupid in retrospect. He's handsome, irresistible, and incredibly hot so he could easily grab anyone he wanted but somehow he always ends up pining after you.

No matter how many girls and guys he sees he always ends up in the exact same spot, in the back, sat on his drum set to watch you jump around and light up the stage. But this time you brought a whole different aura, it was his first time seeing you shy. Was it that random Mark guy you started seeing? It's not likely that you'd let the guy stick around, you hated being tied down.  Yet Donghyuck feared this was different, since well, you really seemed off this week since you met Mark.

You don’t even show up at his place shit-faced at 3am every weekend anymore. You even attended some of your classes because Mark would be in them. You smoked less and it seemed like you were finally getting your life together. Did this stranger have that kind of effect on you? Nevertheless Donghyuck could feel the anger bubble in his stomach as he hams up his drumming, annoyed and frustrated at how hard you were to read. he didn't notice that he had been banging at the drums so loud that it muffled out your singing, confusing both Jeno and Hendery who were eyeing him from the sidelines. This continues until the end of the song, but you didn't seem to mind since you decided to ignore it, busy staring at Mark as he smiled shyly at you, raising his glass as you continued to sing your heart out.

“I should be over all the butterflies but I'm into you, I'm into you.      

And even baby our worst nights I’m into you, I'm into you.”

After the last set, you were gulping down the beer Jeno handed you, messily wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you looked for a blonde college boy in the crowd. It wasn't long until you're met with the cutest smiles, his shy eyes hiding behind his glasses as he complemented how great you were, it was his first time watching you sing.

"I wasn't that bad was I?" you asked, giggling playfully, you placed the empty bottle on the counter behind him.

"You were great! the best even," he chuckled as he wrapped his arm around you, his scent engulfed you. You gladly tucked yourself into his arm, you fitted perfectly.

"Mhmm? Then why can't you look me in the face?" you challenged, laughing at the way Mark coughed up his drink from embarrassment.

"Well I don't usually see you dressed up.... like this" he mumbled shyly, of course he hasn't. What you were wearing wasn't necessarily your Sunday's best. You’re pretty sure Mark's father, who's a pastor, wouldn't be too happy to see you showing up for a family dinner in a lace crop top and ripped skinny jeans.

"It's how I usually dress for the gigs, it's not ugly is it...?" you pouted, and as much as you hated acting cute, you loved watching Mark squirm.

Mark wasn't even able to reply when your band mates' presence was made known by  Hendery who ordered everything available in the bar. You couldn't help but giggle while watching your friend drink shot after shot, he offered you some but you declined since you didn't want to get shit-faced in front of Mark, you were better than that. You knew he was totally out of your league, being the perfect christian college boy studying english literature, he's probably the type who'll marry a pretty trophy wife that will give him three beautiful kids. You didn't even know why Mark gave you a chance, you were practically trash on the side of the road compared to him.You were struggling enough to get by with the gigs and college funds, but he doesn’t seem to mind when you would come up empty-handed during dates, he would gladly spoil you— so consider yourself lucky.

"Hyuck you're not looking too hot" Jeno says it while checking the drummer’s temperature, the brunette simply pushed his hand away, trying his best to avoid your gaze.

"I'm fine" he rolled his eyes, opening a few buttons of his silk shirt, grabbing the attention of some of the ladies near the bar.

"What do you mean? Hyuck's hot as fuck!" Hendery shouted, most probably drunk. Jeno tries to pull the shot glass away but it only ends up spilling all over the counter, Mark scrunches his nose in disgust.

"Wouldn't you know?" Hendery continued pointing towards you, he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Mark's arm drop from your shoulder, you suddenly freeze from his comment.

"Yeah wouldn't you know sunflower?" Donghyuck smirked, eyes meeting with those of Mark's who looked uncomfortable. You tried shooting him a glare, telling him to stop ruining your night, you wanted to finally shoot your shot with Mark. The blonde made you feel different, he made you feel stable and safe, it’s been a long time since you last felt this way. You didn’t even know you were still capable of developing feelings and you haven't felt this way towards anyone so you really didn't want to mess it up. But to your anguish, Mark's curiosity got the better of him.

"Oh yo wait, so you two... were a thing?" Mark coughed awkwardly, his hand going to grip your waist which made you perk up.

"Yeah we've known each other for quite... some time, so it's natural that we've tried stuff" Donghyuck shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets to hide the way he's balling up his fists.

"Yeah but that was like a decade ago, we don't really-"

"Pretty sure 8 months isn't a decade long love" Donghyuck raised his eyebrow, a little smirk makes his way as he sees Mark's grip on your waist falter.

"So do you two still...?"

"No! No, never again... Why would I when I already have you?" you immediately cut Mark off, he's startled by your reply but he still smiles at you, not as bright as the ones he'd shoot you when were onstage. There was a long awkward pause but thankfully Mark speaks up.

"Well! I have like four essays due tomorrow, so I'm gonna have to head out. Want me to drive you home?" he offers, and you were about to accept but you saw Donghyuck raising an eyebrow at you so you stop yourself.

"I would but... We still have a second set, I... I'll call you" you said worried that he'd be turned off with the idea that you had slept with your best friend who you're still friends with by the way, but he simply shook his head as if he was telling you to not worry about it. He kisses your forehead gently before saying goodbye to the rest of the boys. You watch his retreating figure but you weren't able to see him exit the club's doors because it's not long before you feel a strong grip on your left wrist and you're being dragged to somewhere.

“Let 'em wonder how we got this far,

'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all.”

Donghyuck leads you to the club's dirty bathroom, lowly lit with the purple and pink lights. He locks the door behind him but the vibrations of the club's speakers pounded against the door, it was still just as deafening as it was outside. Donghyuck stares at your face for a moment, thinking of what words to say. He watched the way you pursed your lips, you probably were thinking the same, so he beats you to speaking.

"Second set? I'm pretty sure we're done for the night sweetheart-" Donghyuck's stopped mid sentence by your hand coming across his face with a harsh slap, he smiles sadistically when he looks up at you.

"Yeah there's no second set but I had to tell you this" you said, eyes lit with a fire he's never seen before.

"Don't. Ruin. Mark. For. Me." you spat as you pushed him with your finger, backing him up against the club's door. His smirk finally falters, he looked just as confused and annoyed the day you two broke up.

"What? Everything I said was true, doesn't he deserve to know? Let him wonder how we got this far... If he ever doubts your feelings for him, then he doesn't deserve you"

You think about how it's actually the other way around, because for the first time in your life, you're finally making a change for the better. Since your abusive past and your parents' divorce you had always been problematic. Rebelling against your mother since she had refused to accept to support your band. You lived buck-wild, mostly relying on Donghyuck for sustenance. You thought your hate for the people around you was reasonable because of your parents, so you closed off everyone, including Donghyuck. You rebelled and used people as much as you liked, you thought it was only fair you'd reciprocate the hurt the world had given you. But after meeting Mark, it felt like a breath of fresh air, he made you feel alive, like you still had a chance to do the right thing.

"I just don't want to ruin things with him, he's... different" You whispered softly, gripping his silk button-up. Donghyuck laughs cold at this, switching your positions so that you were the one with your back against the door, he cages you against it, making you feel small as he traced your jawline.

"What? are you into virgin college boys now? do they turn you on that much?" he chuckled wickedly, his eyes stared deeply into your own.

"We both know you're never capable of love princess, you like playing with feelings. Because in the end, I know you'll end up breaking this boy's poor heart because that's who you are..." his voice ends up becoming a whisper in the end, his lips inching closer to yours, and without knowing it he presses his lips against yours.

To your shock, you kiss him back for a few seconds but realize what you were doing. You pushed him away to slap him again, he holds your palm in his hand, he harshly holds your wrist against the door. You try to wriggle free from his grip but you stopped when you looked at his face. He had his forehead against yours, tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes were closed but you could hear his sniffling as he tried to collect himself. It was now that you finally realize how much you had hurt him. You didn't know that he was this affected by your break up since he had easily agreed to it. You were also blinded by your selfishness, your anger towards the world that you didn't know you were already hurting someone so important to you.

So you soften up, remembering that this broken guy who stood before you was still your best friend. Your best friend who stayed with you when you were at your worse, your best friend who loved you unconditionally even if you drove everyone away.

"That's exactly who you are, you're a heartless monster." he cried, you silently agreed with him but you kept your mouth shut, willing to listen to him finally tell you his feelings. You have been an asshole for most of your life, and you knew it, so you thought this was the least you could do for him. You didn't think much of Donghyuck’s feelings in the past, so it was only hitting you now, he had truly loved you. Even if you were the most flawed person. Even if you were the sad little girl who was too scared of the world, the little girl who believed that everyone was out to get her. He had loved you fully, through and through, even if you had intentionally cheated on him.

"I'm sorry" you whisper, finally realizing how cruel you were these past years. You hated yourself, you truly did. You hate yourself for playing with his feelings, for leading him on when you didn't really have feelings for him back then. You used him for your enjoyment not thinking of his emotions, you used him as an escape from your reality, your troubled past. You truly were a monster and it was finally made clear to you.

"Then take me back," he whispered, he sounded so broken that it took a while for you to register what he said. You didn't reply and he looks up to meet your gaze and your heart breaks.  

"After all this time, I'm still so into you, so please... just give me a chance to be yours again" he begged, you knew he was ready to beg on his knees if it weren't for your current position, you could feel the shiver run down your back because of guilt.

"Donghyuck." you sighed as you took his face into your palms, you look into his eyes and you could see the glimmer of hope behind them, hoping that  you were about to say yes to his offer, but to his disappointed you only caused more heartbreak.

"I really really like Mark... and you were probably right, I'm so fucked in the brain that I didn't even think of your feelings back then. Of how real your emotions were for me, I thought we were just casual, but it seems like you really..." you trail off thinking of the right words to say

"loved me. I'm so sorry for being a fucking asshole, I have no excuses. Being hurt by my parents gives me no reason to hurt you back, so you don't have to accept my apology, I don't deserve it... But I’m doing what I think is best for us right now, I'm kicking you out of the band"

Donghyuck's eyes widened at this, his hands desperately clasping onto yours as he tried to bring his lips back to yours. He didn't know why he was trying to kiss you, probably it was because of the alcohol in his system, or most likely desperation. But all he knew he wasn't ready to let go, to say goodbye to you just yet, so he tried grasping for any piece of you he could as you removed his desperate hands from your body, both of you crying as you tried to push him away for good.

"What do you mean? why do you keep pushing me away like this?" he cries out as he hugs you, you pat his back.

"Because this is wrong, and it's time for you to be happy." you freed yourself from his weak grip, he tried to fight back but you insisted, it finally hit him that this was inevitable, it was finally time for you to say goodbye.

"Thank you for everything" you whispered, and with a final slip of his grasp you were gone. You had opened the door and left him in the bathroom, broken and lost.

“Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you.”

Part 2

[angry-geese]

Risotto Nero x Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW towards the end. Pretty vanilla. Lots of fluff. Fem!reader

Notes: Risotto lives au because I am in denial about Vento Aureo's ending. Reader got pregnant around the ending of VA, she escapes the mafia. This takes place six years after the events of VA

sorry for posting so much of this guy but i have rice man brainrot

Lucky was not something you ever considered yourself to be.

Few ever lived long enough to leave. Even fewer managed to stay out of the life long.

Maybe Don Giovanna took pity on you. Or maybe it was just that: luck. 

You were certain of one thing: fleeing Italy was the best thing you'd ever done.

Half of Passione would consider you a traitor. The other half wanted you dead out of spite. Your line of work left a long list of enemies. Those you couldn’t pay off or intimidate, you killed. Tying up loose ends was a gruesome- but necessary- part of the job.

Your family never questioned where you went for all those years. It was an unspoken rule to not mention it. You were considered a dead man the moment you joined. Long ago they stopped expecting their daughter to be alive, waiting for the day Passione would send you back in pieces.

Your daughter was born six months after you arrived home.

Years passed and you slowly realized that hitmen would never come, no strange men ever appeared outside your home, the shadows in the corner of your room were only that: shadows. Your family was safe, or appeared as such.

It felt natural to settle into family life. You took a job working at a local bookstore. Your mother would watch Maria- named after Risotto’s cousin- while you worked. Your father grew old and frail, eventually passing from his age. It was sad but expected, and quickly glossed over by the rest of your life.

She's grown to look quite like him, with her silver hair and skin deepened by the Mediterranean sun. It makes you wonder if she'll grow to be nearly as tall. 

Despite the domesticity of it all, there was a fear that never quite left you. A knife you never slept without, locks you couldn't help but triple check at night, hiding spaces you'd check out of paranoia that someone was there.

You never lied to your daughter about who her father was. Not that you told the entire truth, just the parts a five-year-old could understand: he loves her, but he’s not around anymore.

A knock at the door makes you jump.

Not wanting the sauce for dinner to scald, you leave it. If its anyone important, they’ll come in.

Six years is a long time. Maybe not in the grand scheme of things. But in five- families build, kids go from children to teens leave the bubbles their parents stuck them in. All these life changing events take place.

Risotto can’t deny the anxiety that gnaws at him. Your house vaguely resembles the little Italian villa you two owned. Though that one was long destroyed, burned down when you fled. Seeing the lush garden- planted with all the little flowers you like, with step stones painted rather messily as if done by a child- makes something deep in his chest ache.

One of the last things Risotto expects to open the door is a little girl. A girl that looks a lot like you.

Its as if he’s paralyzed. She’s about five- you would have been pregnant around the time you disappeared. He can’t say he wasn’t warned. Its not that you were ever unfaithful, its just that no matter how many times he’s tried to steel himself for this day, he can’t.

“Papa?”

You were careful when describing him to her. He wasn’t much for photos. At the time neither were you. In Passione you had to be invisible, someone who wouldn’t leave a trace. Discretion was necessary, the only other option was death. Maybe having a child made you sentimental. You wanted more to remember him by than some old clothes and a wedding photo.

Having a child, while not technically against any rules within Passione, was a death sentence. It was one more thing they could hold against you, something they could hurt you with. Risotto’s line of work meant limiting that at all costs if you wanted to live to see the end of the year.

But he’s no longer one of the cogs in Passione’s machine. He’s just a man, and he can love you- the two of you- as such.

He gathers her up in his arms, holding her close. She smells like a perfume you used to wear, he notes. The thought of you being so close makes his heart race.

When you hear the door open, but no one enter, your mind goes to the worst. You rush to the door, kitchen knife in hand. But it’s no hitman sent to tie off a loose end. It’s something that hurts much worse.

Neither of you know how to respond. He’s relatively unchanged, though there’s a noticeable limp when he walks, and his shoulder that now aches when it rains. You’ve grown- gotten used to living as a civilian- but you have not turned soft. He notices a few grays, your scars have faded, smile lines dot at the corners of your mouth. Strong, sturdy, beautiful. All the things his nonna used to call him. It was still you.

"Stay for dinner, please." You cling to his shirt like he’ll disappear again.

He nods, unable to refuse.

Somehow you convince him to stay for a drink. Then another. Somehow you convince him to spend the night. Because after all these years he finds it difficult to leave and now he doesn't want the moment to end.

Risotto grabs hungrily at the fleshy parts of your hips. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck, giving him silent permission to continue. He tugs at the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips enough for him to slide them off. Risotto hums approvingly as he realizes you have nothing on underneath. He cages you in his arms, sliding one under your shirt to palm at your breast, working your nipples into stiff peaks. To hide the blush that creeps up your cheeks, you bury your face in his shirt. He sucks at the pulse point in your neck, making you gasp particularly loudly.

He slides a finger up your slit, his large hand coming down to rest on your thigh. Your core throbs at the thought of what he plans on doing to you. You’re not wet- not just yet- but you feel the slick beginning to collect. 

“Stop teasing!” You bury your face further into the crook of his neck.

“I’m just taking my time, amore.”

He brings his other hand down to toy at your clit. To stifle a moan, you nip at his shoulder. Just how he remembered. You jolt as he brushes his thumb across the bundle of nerves, tracing softly along your thigh.

"More, please." You palm at his growing bulge.

"Not yet."

It's hardly enough, but he’d drag this out all night if you’d let him. His other hand traces down your stomach, resting on your thigh. You widen your legs a little further, giving him room to settle between them. He marks your neck- then your stomach- with little nips and bites. After a particularly loud whine, he moves up to nip at your ear, making your entire body shudder.

You're embarrassed, red in the face and needy, pupils blown wide and lips bitten red. His teeth graze across your thigh, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises. You card your hands through his hair, a grunt of satisfaction leaving him. He pushes your legs just a bit further apart.

He sucks at your clit, lapping like a housecat. You grind against him, desperate for more friction. You've long stopped caring about the noise you’re making. He licks like a man starved. Aside from your own whimpers and pleading, you hear the huffs of a man who is very content with what he's doing. He's knuckle deep, the lower half of his face shiny with your slick, fingers scissoring inside of you. After a moment he adds a third, rubbing against your g-spot. The stretch stings, but isn't necessarily painful. 

He’s had to stretch you out plenty of times. The man is huge- that applies to more than just his stature. As he begins pumping those fingers in you, you dig your nails into his scalp. The coil in your stomach tightens far sooner than you expected. He grunts when your thighs close around his head, back arched off the bed. 

The coil in your stomach snaps. He lingers for just a moment after, until the overstimulation becomes too much and you push him away. He makes a show of licking his fingers, pulling them from his mouth with a pop.

He settles in next to you, your hips pulled flush to his. You feel something hard press into your thigh.

He’s got six years of lost time to make up, after all, he’s only just getting started.

[nightfrostshadow]

To Save a Villain

Prompt by @gingerly-writing

“Well, hero, looks like you have quite the decision to make. Leave me here to bleed out and stain your precious hands with blood, or call an ambulance and keep me alive to ruin your life another day. Which will it be? I’m so excited to find out.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hero glared at Villain who looked like he was lounging on the ground except a hand was covering his abdomen and blood was pooling around him. His face though twisted in a smirk was pale and she could visibly see the strain it took for him to not fall flat. He was already sitting on the ground and was doing all he could to not keel over.

Villain smiled as he painstakingly spoke once more with a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth. “Wait you wouldn’t be so cruel to call the ambulance and leave? You know considering who I am, they would probably just speed up my journey to The Underworld.”

He looked up at her, “The only way to keep me alive would be to take me to your home and save me yourself. It is your fault after all you know?” He said gesturing to the wound with a grimace.

Hero sighed; her conscience would never let her leave him for dead. She groaned at the thought of what she was going to have to do. She reluctantly walked over to Villain and knelt beside him and gently- or as gently as she could- carried him on her back and headed home. Luckily, she could fly. She could not imagine transporting him any other way that wasn’t as fast as flying.

She entered her apartment through the window which she had kept open for this very purpose. Not exactly open but not locked either so she could just push it open from the outside. This was something only someone who could fly could do because she lived on the fifth floor. So it wasn’t too dangerous to do. Though coming back with Villain had certainly not been part of her plan. It was just a speedy way to enter her home.

She quickly laid Villain down onto her couch after throwing a spare cloth over it. She rushed to find her first aid kit. She fretted as she removed his shirt and had absolutely no idea what to do for the literal gaping hole in Villain’s abdomen which was spilling his blood all over. She rushed over muttering to Villain. “I’m not the right person for this!”

However, a very quick search on her phone later she managed to at least decently, if not perfectly, clean the wound and stop the bleeding before wrapping it up. She highly doubted it was the proper procedure but she would take it since Villain’s breathing had evened out.

It had started to get laboured a few minutes ago. His face though pale was not ghostly anymore. She let out a deep breath, one she hadn’t even noticed she was holding. Luckily this was enough because Villain healed faster than normal people. So even though what she had done was probably not enough for a normal person, for Villain it was more than enough.

Now that she wasn’t worried anymore, she quickly took off her jacket which had been stained with Villain’s blood while she had been carrying him. She didn’t have time to worry about cleaning it up now so she just deposited it onto a chair and decided to worry about that later.

She looked at Villain. He was quietly taking in the sight of her bandaging across his abdomen. He looked up with a weak smile that was slowly growing stronger as he healed. “Thank you for letting me stay the night. I appreciate it.”

Hero stared in surprise, “What did you just say? You aren’t staying the night. Absolutely not.”

Villain stared at her, “How fast do you expect me to heal? I’ll be fine tomorrow morning. It’s already night. The sun set an hour ago. I’m all for sleeping early today and I think you should too. Today was a pretty busy day.”

Hero didn’t argue. She knew it would be of no use so she silently disappeared into a room and reappeared a moment later carrying a blanket. She considered throwing it at Villain to spite him but then her conscience reminded her about the injury so she reluctantly draped it over him all the time glaring at him silently warning him not to joke about it.

Villain smiled but said nothing as his eyes sparkled. Hero finally spoke when she was done, “I’m turning in early tonight. Good Night.”

As soon as Hero left and went to her bedroom, Villain was left alone in the hall. He slowly lifted the blanket and checked on his wound with his powers. He estimated it would be an hour or two before he was completely healed. Until then he decided to just wait.

About two and a half hours later Villain awoke. He blinked his eyes as he looked around him for a moment wondering where on earth he was. Then he realised he must have dozed off. He quickly lifted the blanket and gently pulled off half of the bandaging that Hero had done, or tried to at least. He recalled her frantic google search before doing so and chuckled. He could see that he had fully healed.

Villain smiled. Not bad considering the fact that he had almost died a few hours ago. He did owe Hero for that. Then again it was her fault that he had gotten hurt. They were even. However, he was a villain who returned favours. He decided to get her some chocolate perhaps as he scanned the room with his eyes to see if he could find out what Hero liked. He spotted a bar of chocolate on a table. He got up and walked over to the kitchen. He saw many more of them in a box. He grinned. Well, that was settled. She liked chocolate.

In the meantime… he quickly grabbed one and started eating it. Who doesn’t love chocolate after all? He had never tried that particular type before. He mentally added it to the list of chocolates he liked because it was absolutely delicious.

He considered going back home but he didn’t want to leave without a word. He preferred grand exits. He went back and made himself comfortable on the couch and went to sleep.

The next time when Villain awoke it was around five ‘o’clock in the morning. He frowned as he glanced at the wall clock. He usually woke up an hour earlier than that time. His body probably needed extra rest after that injury yesterday. He sighed as he quickly got up and folded the blanket. He was a good guest after all. He smirked as he thought of what Hero’s face would look like when he said he was a guest.

He didn’t have his toothbrush or anything here so he just washed his face and went to wake Hero up before heading home. Goodness how was she still sleeping? The sun was almost about to rise. A few golden beams of light had appeared near the horizon. He walked into the room to see Hero tightly wrapped up in her blanket.

He almost laughed at the sight. It wasn’t even that cold. He called out her name to wake her up. She didn’t budge. He finally used his powers and levitated her into the living room and set her down on the couch which he had just vacated. 

Finally, she woke with a jerk. Sleepy eyes looked up at him. As soon as she registered who it was, she glared at him. “How could you wake me up so early!”

Villain scoffed, “Early? It’s late! Anytime after the sun rises is late. Well, I’m about to leave so I had to do you a favour and wake you up.”

Hero slowly eased herself into a sitting position and stared in shock as she registered where Villain was standing. He had jumped onto her window frame and it looked like he planned on exiting that way.

She jumped up and ran towards him, “Wait! You can’t do that when you’re injured!”

Villain turned back with a grin, “Aw, I’m extremely touched you care about me. I was healed last night don’t worry.”

Hero spluttered, “Who-Who cares about you? Wait-WHAT did you just say?”

Hero was fully awake now with all the shock and realization setting in, “You were fully healed last night? Then why didn’t you leave?”

Villain’s eyes twinkled mischievously, “Well what’s the fun in that? Oh and thanks for that bar of chocolate.”

He smirked, “I’ll be back soon to repay the favour. You’ll be seeing me quite often now that I know where to find you.”

With that he winked and with a little wave he leapt off.

Hero sighed as she looked around and spotted the blanket he had folded. The only sign other than her blood-stained jacket that Villain had been here. Then again, it was hard to believe she had brought Villain to her house.

She slowly walked back towards her room surprised to find that she was actually looking forward to Villains next visit.

[geminiwritten]

heatwave ; bucky barnes

fandom: marvel

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: you’re not a huge fan of the hot weather until a certain super soldier finally gets his arse out of bed and gives you a reason to love it

notes: i wrote this over quite a few days so i’m really sorry if its disjointed, and i’m so sorry if its repetitive of my last piece! i’m still trying to get through a bit of writer’s block, so i hope y’all enjoy!

word count: 3359

The heat seemed to wash over you in waves. Pulses of warmth rolling through your body and stealing your breath. Every inch of your skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, drawing all the hydration from your body and draining any energy you might have possessed if it wasn’t for the heatwave currently sweeping through New York City.

“Ugh,” you groaned, your head lulling to the side where Natasha laid, “I think I’m dying.”

She let out a breathy laugh, “You’re not dying.”

“I might be.”

“Oh, come on you two,” Sam hollered from the pool a little way across the balcony, “have some fun for once in your lives!”

Natasha propped herself up on her elbows and squinted over the top of her sunglasses, “With you idiots? No thanks.”

“Why are you always such a killjoy, Romanoff?”

“Why are you always such a pain in the ass, Wilson?” you called back, mimicking Natasha on your elbows.

He scoffed, “That’s rich coming from the whiniest member of the team.”

Your frown deepened, this time out of anger and not because of the bright glare from the sun.

“Watch it, Wilson,” a voice called out from behind you, “or she’ll come over there and kick your ass.”

Both you and Natasha whipped around to find Bucky. He had probably only just woken, his mop of hair tied up into a loose bun with escaped tendrils sticking to the hot skin of his neck and forehead. This time, it wasn’t the heat that knocked the air from your lungs.

“Nice to see you’re alive, Buck,” Steve chuckled as he waded through the pool toward where Sam was leaning against the edge.

Bucky rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to say something smart but having his breath stolen as he stepped out of the shade and into the sun. “Holy shit,” he gasped, “it’s hot.”

“Sharp observation skills, Einstein,” Natasha quipped.

“At least Barnes will get in the pool unlike you two party poopers,” Sam said, before copping a volleyball to the back of the head thanks to Bruce’s poor aim.

He spun around quickly, ball in hand and ready to hurl it back at his attacker.

“Well then,” Bucky sighed, now standing beside you, “I guess it’s time for a swim.”

He looked down at you sprawled across your towel, one arm draped over your eyes to shield from the sun and the other resting on your bare stomach. You suddenly felt exposed, nervous under the gaze of his pale blue eyes.

“Want to join me?”

Your pulse thudded in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to get in the water with him, but the sound of shouts and spraying water reminded you of the rest of the team.

“I’m sorry, Buck, I’ll have to pass,” you replied.

He pushed his bottom lip forward, “It’s your loss, doll, this heat is a killer.”

Your limbs turned to jelly at the sound of that pet name rolling off his tongue.

“Ugh,” Natasha scoffed beside you, “you two are sickening.”

You wanted to turn around and bite back at her, but what happened next had you paralysed. Every nerve in your body ignited, goosebumps rising across every inch of your skin in spite of the steamy weather. Bucky’s fingers curled under the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head to reveal his sculpted body beneath. His abs rolled and tensed as he rid himself of the material and discarded it on the ground, making your mouth water and your head spin with a thousand different unholy thoughts.

A shriek from the red headed woman beside you broke you out of your trance, and only then did you notice the spray of pool water that had washed over you and most of the balcony.

“You’re an arse, Barnes!” Natasha yelled, standing and angrily snatching up her towel.

You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose as you let your gaze settle on the giggling men in the pool. Bucky’s now wet, broad shoulders glistened under the sunlight, his alabaster skin taught across the landscape of muscle.

“Do you want some lunch or are you just going to keep staring like a creep?” Natasha asked as she stood over you.

Your gaze hardly wavered, “I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed, her lips curling into a smirk, “because I think you’ve got a little bit of drool on your chin there.”

If Bucky wasn’t pulling himself out of the water right at the moment, you might have turned around to poke your tongue at her, but instead you opted for flipping her the bird while your eyes remained trained on the pool area.

The rest of the steamy day went by far too quickly. Despite your hate for the heat, you stayed out on the balcony until the sun began to set. Only when Bucky and Sam wrapped themselves in towels and declared that it was time for dinner did you finally put your book away, not that you had managed to read even a single page of it.

“Is it supposed to be this hot again tomorrow?” Sam asked as the three of you stepped inside.

“Yeah,” you replied, “and the day after.”

“I bet you’re happy about that,” he chuckled, watching disappointment sweep across your face as Bucky pulled his shirt over his head

“Shut up.”

He chuckled at your feeble attempt to jab his side, easily evading your attack.

“Alright, children,” Tony called from the kitchen, “dinner’s ready.”

Like moths to a flame, the rest of the team gathered around the kitchen bench where Natasha and Tony had laid out the pre-cut ingredients for everyone to make their own burgers.

“I’m going to have a shower before eating,” Bucky said, to no one in particular as he draped his damp towel over his forearm.

“Do you need any help?” Sam asked, his grin evil, “Because I’m sure Y/N would love-”

“Sam!” you snapped.

Thankfully, Bucky remained oblivious, his brows knit into an adorable frown.

“Never mind, Buck,” you said, “I’ll make sure they save you some food.”

His face broke into that familiar smile that melted your heart, “Thanks, doll.”

Once again, your legs wobbled like jelly and you had to steady yourself on the back of the lounge.

“Ugh,” Sam groaned, “I can’t wait until they day you two finally fu-”

“Language,” Steve interrupted with a disapproving glare at Sam.

You poked your tongue out before turning toward the array of burger ingredients, your empty stomach rumbling at the sight.

The next day rolled around just as the weather forecast had predicted. The air was thick with humidity and the sun blared down just as it had yesterday. Once again you found yourself on a towel beside the pool, half of the team splashing around while the other half laid languidly in the shade.

“Still not getting in today?” Steve asked as he approached the bar fridge near where you had placed your towel.

You shook your head, “I’d rather not get caught in the crossfire of an overly aggressive game of chicken.”

“I mean, you could play the game with us, maybe even get to climb onto Bucky’s shoulders.”

You whipped around, your glare lethal, “What the fuck, Rogers?”

He chuckled, “Sorry, Sam told me to.”

“You are the last person I would expect to stoop to his level,” you said, crossing your arms indignantly.

He shrugged, “Well, no one has told Buck, if that makes up for anything.”

“I’m guessing everyone else knows, though.”

He didn’t respond, only smiled sheepishly.

“Ugh,” you sighed.

“In my own defence, Natasha told me about your crush months ago and I haven’t let it slip once. It’s been-”

“Sam,” you interrupted him, “I know.”

He took a generous sip of water before crouching beside you, “For what it’s worth, I think you should tell him how you feel.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

Steve knew he couldn’t say anymore. He knew nothing he said would convince you to tell Bucky how you felt, and he knew he couldn’t betray his best friend’s trust by divulging the fact that Bucky really had confessed his feelings for you before. He decided to let you be, gathering three more bottles of water before heading back to the pool.

The day passed almost identically to the one before it, and so did the next. It wasn’t until two o’clock in the morning on the third night of the heatwave that you felt a sudden change. You awoke abruptly, a shiver running down your spine as cool air blew through the open window and brushed across your bare skin. You frowned at the night sky before tiredly pulling your duvet up to your chin and falling back asleep.

By morning, the heat was well and truly gone. Clouds blanketed New York City, threatening to rain as they rolled angrily across the grey sky.

“I guess it’s back to work today, Avengers,” Tony said from behind his tablet.

Almost everyone was awake, crowded around the kitchen bench awaiting Clint’s famous French toast.

“What work?” Peter asked.

“Homework for you, kid,” Steve replied, earning an indignant frown from Peter.

You couldn’t help but giggle into your mug of coffee, before almost spraying it back out at the sight that then exited the elevator.

Bucky. Shirtless. Again.

You began to wonder what you had done to be so lucky, your heart thrumming against your rib cage so hard you worried that someone might hear it.

“Oh, my, Barnes,” Tony gasped, “you know it’s still in the A.M., right?”

Bucky simply rolled his tired eyes before slumping onto the lounge, mumbling, “Hungry.”

It wasn’t long before Clint served breakfast, everyone scoffing their food as if they hadn’t eaten in days, and soon after that, Peter dismissed himself for school and Tony and Bruce made their way to the lab.

“I think I need to get back into the gym today,” Clint sighed, stretching his arms above his head.

You sighed, “Same.”

“Bucky and I were planning on heading down there in the afternoon actually, we could do a group training session,” Steve said as he filled the sink, ready to wash everyone’s dishes.

“I’m in,” Natasha replied, “I was going to head into town for some groceries this morning, so the afternoon is better for me.”

“Yeah, alright,” Clint added, “Count me in.”

“Me too,” Sam said through his last mouthful of toast, “and obviously Y/N will be there too.”

You turned to him quickly, a frown already etched between your brows, “What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckled, “Steve said that he and Bucky were planning it, so obviously you-”

You elbowed him sharply in the gut before standing from your seat at the dining table and stomping over to the kitchen.

Natasha sighed, “You better be careful, Wilson, you’re playing with fire.”

“But it’s so obvious that they both like each other, why can’t they just fuck already.”

Steve’s ears turned red and Natasha laughed, but neither of them seemed to notice as Bucky finally made his way over from the living area.

“Who needs to fuck already?” he asked, brows knit.

“No one,” Steve answered quickly, “Tony wants help moving a new delivery, I said we’d help him out. Come on.”

He ushered the confused Bucky out of the room, but not before shooting daggers at Sam.

After breakfast you decided to go with Natasha into town. The compound was running low on a few things that Tony always forgot to add to the weekly grocery delivery, so you took your time shopping and chatting. It was nice to simply enjoy the feeling of not having sweat drip from every inch of your skin, though you couldn’t help mourning the sticky weather that would encourage Bucky to constantly walk around shirtless.

It was almost four o’clock when you finally changed into your workout gear and headed for the gym. Most of the team were already in there, and those that weren’t had kindly declined the offer of a group training session.

Steve, Sam, Tony, and Bucky were gathered around the sparring mats each taking turns at attacking the training dummy, while Clint was over by the weights alone. You quickly found Wanda and Natasha on the treadmills and decided to start there.

“Afternoon,” Wanda greeted you, her smile sweet as she swiped the sweat from her brow.

You grinned back, “Fancy seeing you out of your room.”

“I don’t do heat,” she said, “but Nat has just been telling me about how much you’ve been enjoying it.”

You tossed your gym towel at her, gasping, “Oh, shut up!”

The two red heads giggled, thankfully too amused to notice the way your eyes drifted across the gym to where Bucky was training.

After almost an hour on the treadmill, chatting idly about nothing in particular with Nat and Wanda, Steve called the team to attention. Everyone moved in from around the gym, forming a misshapen circle around the sparring mats that he and Clint had just hauled from the storage room.

“It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Sam said as he plopped down on the floor and began stretching his legs out in front of him, “is the air on, Tony?”

Tony, who was chugging half a bottle of water, simply shrugged and waved haphazardly at the control panel by the main entry doors.

“I’ll check it,” you offered before turning on your heel.

You tapped the screen and it came to life, but the display wasn’t the same as the one in your room. It had more options and dials for more variables than just the temperature, but on the top right of the screen was a little green button that you assumed meant it was on. You chose the dial that looked like it controlled the fan speed and turned it all the way up.

“All good, Y/N?” Steve called.

You nodded before hurrying back to the group, bending your right leg up to your buttocks in a quick stretch. Steve and Nat then took their positions in the middle of the circle and began demonstrating the fight sequences that they wanted the team to practice.

“Now partner up, pick a mat, and practice until you can do it as fast as you can,” Steve said, before looking directly at Sam, “without hurting each other.”

Sam sighed with exasperation as he turned to his partner, Bucky. You turned to Wanda while Nat joined Clint on a mat and Tony stepped up to where Steve was. Each pair started slowly mimicking the moves that had just been demonstrated.

“It is hot in here,” Wanda said, her breath heavy as she ducked your fist.

You simply nodded, too focused on your movements to be able to speak.

Grunts, huffs, and the thud of heavy feet on the vinyl mats echoed throughout the gym for fifteen minutes before Steve called a break. You practically dove for your water bottle, only to choke on the first mouthful of water when Bucky yanked his sweat-soaked shirt over his head. Wanda caught your eye, giggling as you spluttered.

“I thought the heatwave was over,” Clint said.

Tony nodded, “It is, I think the air-con is playing up.”

“It’s broken?” Wanda gasped.

He shrugged, opening his mouth to respond but stopping when Steve spoke first, “Alright, enough chatting, let’s get back into it.”

Over the next thirty minutes, Wanda’s fist made contact with your shoulder, your abdomen, and almost your jaw if she hadn’t quickly noticed that you were too distracted to block her swing. Her foot then collided with your hip twice before she finally gave in on trying to get your attention.

Your eyes were glossed over and glued to the super soldier duelling Sam. His exposed skin glistened with sweat, muscles rippling under taught, alabaster skin. His stare was hard, eyes almost grey as they narrowed on every move that Sam made. Your palms began to sweat, knees wobbling as you watched his tongue swipe quickly across his pink lips.

“Y/N!” Wanda snapped, her fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to face her, “focus.”

“Shit, sorry,” you muttered.

You raised your shaky hands, trying to block out the shirtless man still in your peripheral vision.

By the time Steve called the training session to an end, the air was almost as dense as the storm clouds outside. Everyone was soaked in their own sweat, hair clinging to sticky skin and muscles beneath burning from use.

“I swear to God, Tony,” Wanda said as she draped her towel over her shoulder, “if the air-con is broken, I’m not going to let you sleep until it’s fixed.”

He chuckled, fingers already moving swiftly across the tablet in his lap, “It’s not broken.”

“Then what the fuck is this?” Sam exclaimed, arms gesturing wildly toward the gym’s huge windows that were completely veiled in condensation.

Tony nodded toward you, “Y/N turned the temperature up instead of down.”

Heat blossomed in your chest, crawling up your neck and to the tips of your ears. Every pair of eyes landed on you, a mixture of irritation and amusement etched across the faces of your teammates.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I got confused.”

Most of the group simply chuckled or shrugged, collecting their things and heading for the door, but Sam took his time. The devilish smirk adorning his lips made your pulse begin to race.

“Far out, Y/N,” he said, “you didn’t have to torture all of us just to get Barnes to take his clothes off.”

Your eyes went wide, brows shooting up toward your hairline as every coherent thought left your head. Your heart pounded deafeningly in your ears.

The team was suddenly silent, those closest to the door hurrying out and the rest quickly rushing after them. Wanda stuck her elbow into Sam’s side before dragging him out by his shirt collar.

Bucky remained, paralysed feet still glued to the ground as he quickly tried to catch up on what had just happened.

“Sam was just joking,” you finally managed to speak, “he’s an arse.”

Bucky blinked slowly, “Yeah… such an arse.”

You nodded, mouth dry as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, “Okay, well, I’ve got to-”

“He is an arse,” Bucky interrupted you, blue eyes wide with curiosity, “but he doesn’t usually lie.”

You didn’t know what to say, your nervous fingers tangling behind your back. His stare was heavy, pressing down on your shoulders and holding you still as he slowly stepped closer.

“Do you like me?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I like you, Buck, you’re-”

“No,” one last step and his breath fanned the exposed skin of your neck, “do you-”

This time, it was your turn to interrupt. Every bit of pent-up tension and suppressed desire propelled you toward him, coming up onto the balls of your feet and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. Your lips crashed into his, so hard you might have worried about bruising them if the thought of a mark left by Bucky wasn’t so thrilling.

He hesitated only for a moment before his hands found your waist, practically lifting you off the ground and squashing your body against his. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue glided across your bottom lip, begging for entry. A low, almost feral growl rumbled up from his chest once you allowed him in, tongues clashing.

You only parted when breath became absolutely necessary, your lungs burning for air. He let you back onto your own feet, though his strong arms stayed wound around your waist.

“Um, yeah,” you said between gulps of air, “I really like you, Buck.”

He chuckled, “Well, that’s a relief because I really like you too.”

He pressed his lips to yours once more before pulling away completely and wrapping his gym towel around his shoulders.

“I need a shower,” he said, taking your hand in his and tugging you toward the door, “and it’s your turn to take your clothes off now.”

END.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Forgive and forget what happened in another time (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: After the incident with the Doctor, Daisy and Jemma see how much it hurt you and do what they can to help, but there is only one person who can really help. Fitz

Leopold Fitz, that name used to make you feel safe, happy, protected. A name of a brother figure, of a best friend.

Now, it was a name of danger, of hurt, of caution; of someone who once meant the world to you, but now a complicated thing. That was the what the name brought now. 

Your hand went to the wound he had caused you, a bullet wound; the scar being patched up by Jemma, who had been doing all she could for you. 

“Knock knock.” You heard Daisy said a your door swished open, there was no knock that was a lie, only the words and swoosh of the door to alert you of her presence in your room. 

You quickly put the shirt down, covering the scar, but you saw her eye go to where it would be on your front (your back was to her, you had turned your head to look at you, even then you only saw her from the corner of your eye) and her smile was sympathetic. 

She had her scar too, running her hand along the back of her neck.

“Hey.” You greeted, trying to sound like you both thinking about the same thing.

“Hey.” She parroted back, trying to do the same thing. 

You cleared your throat, fully turning to your friend and crossing your arms, “So, what’s up?” You asked.

She suddenly remembered why she was here, “We’re gonna be landing soon, gonna need you there with me.” She said, giving you a smile, one you mirrored. 

She hated this, seeing her sibling in pain like this; she hated that your brother figure hurt you both. 

You had found where his ship was after interrogating one of the crew, all you had to do was get to it. 

As you walked, with Daisy leading, Jemma grabbed you by the arm and held you back, “Y/N, if this is it, then --” 

“Now’s not the time.” You said, trying to get her to release you so you could just end this journey. 

“When is the time?” She pressed; you looked at her in the eyes, this journey had made her go to dark places, but she was still the caring soul you met all that time ago.

“Not now,” You said, removing the hand, “Besides, if it is him...then he’ll be with you, and Daisy can do the talking for me.” 

You entered the part of the ship you needed through the ceiling, with Jemma leading the way. You found the pod, and you waited with baited breath. She looked to you and Daisy, two of her best friends in the whole world who had followed her out here for this one moment. 

Her face dropped when she opened it...nothing was there, only some blood. 

She stayed in the pod for a bit, breaking down. You, meanwhile, sat in the commons room, alone, and you allowed yourself to admit it. 

You were happy that he wasn’t. 

And part of you hated yourself for it. 

“Y/N,” Jemma called out to you, you looked up to her, “I need you for something.” 

That was a bit of a stretch, it was more of a team meeting, and something she had spotted on the pod, writing. 

In a language she knew apparently. 

You and Daisy were trying to keep the rest of you guys in check, and at the same time get Simmons to see that you would not survive this trip. 

She, however, saw it differently.

She, however, pulled the lever and sent you deeper into space, chasing after a translation.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jemma knew, she knew that you were pissed by that option; and as much as she defended it, she saw the toll all this was taking on you. 

But, this was her husband, she wasn’t going to just leave him stranded, even if the chance of finding him was small. 

“Y/N --” She said, having a moment alone with you before they went to the city of Kitson, a place apparently only the worst people would go. 

“Don’t.” You were firm with your words, and she could detect the bite. 

“Y/N, please --” Again, she couldn’t finish. 

“You had no right!” 

“I have to find him, Y/N. You would do the same if it was Daisy, me, or anyone else.” She couldn’t stop the words, her goal of finding her husband stopping her from seeing the consequences of her words.

Those consequences came when your eyes widened, almost at the audacity of the words said, before you let out a humourless chuckle, “‘Anyone else’ hasn’t shot me while I’ve tried to free my sister from his split. I get it, not fully in his control, his trauma too, but what about mine, Jemma? You expect me to just move on from it? Sure, Daisy’s done better, but --”

“You don’t need to compare yourself to her, Y/N. You’re making your own progress, I promise…” She was torn, and you could tell. 

“Whatever, let’s just go, ok?” She could tell things were a bit icey between you both, but she knew that you both still cared for each other, even during this time. 

You went to Kitson, yourself and the two girls getting high as a kite in your search, “Co-come on, Y/N...We need to find our british friend.” Daisy said, holding onto your hand and bringing you through the crowds. You had no idea where Jemma had gone, part of your brain wondering if she was real…

If what Fitz had done was real. 

She was, as you found out, being brought onto the floor in a crawl as you went under the table to find some solace from the people.

You observed the surroundings, eyes wide as you blinked a few times, but you swore you saw a man in a suit, a beard and an emotionless expression on his face staring at you a few times in the crowd, but each time you just shook your head and he was gone.

A blaring ‘dolphin’ noise brought the three of you out, it was a signal. But Chronicoms were on your tail, so you both looked to Jemma, assuring her that - despite your states - you could handle them. Jemma looked to you and smiled, glad you still had her back. 

She went, and you and your sister got to work, Daisy spinning on the table and you throwing glasses at the trained opponents. It was funny, how you both almost reverted to how you were before all this - you throwing glasses in a bar fight - and her distracting herself during a conflict and having fun with it. 

With that cleared up, Jemma had news for you. 

“He’s alive.” She told you, and she knew where to go. 

Your search led you to a Chromicom ship, or rather the ship. But, you saw him for the first time --

Not the doctor who had hurt you and your sister --

Not the man who had a split and lost for a moment to his demons --

But your best friend, your brother. Jemma’s husband --

Leopold Fitz.

Daisy was all but ready to make do on her threat of Fitz being hurt again, she’d tear the ship apart. She knew this wasn’t the Fitz that had hurt her, had hurt you. 

You were willing to do a lot of things to get him back, but forgiving him would be another thing. 

You had tried a runner, only for you to find yourself surrounded; you and Daisy were more than ready to fight --

But Jemma stopped you; you couldn’t quite focus on her words, your heart racing as you saw the tears in Daisy’s and Jemma’s eyes. 

This was a goodbye between you three siblings. 

Jemma then looked to you, shaky smile on her lips, “Y/N --” She wanted to say something, anything to help make this better. But she couldn’t think of anything. 

Her youngest sibling was hurting, just as much as her other younger sister. 

You brought her into a hug, one she returned, no other words were spoken; you both just hugged. 

Then she was gone, and you were going home with a member gone, maybe forever. 

As you went home, Daisy found you in your room, she sat next to you, not saying anything but she knew her presence would help. 

Hell, it had helped her, she knew how you both worked. You were her best friend since birth, brought up together in the orphanage. Now, you were more hurt than you were before. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Still, you went back to earth, the ever present image of Jemma Simmon walking away, to whatever her fate held, was etched into your mind. 

You felt Daisy’s gaze on you every so often as you got closer to home. Still, no words were spoken, just the gaze of, not concern, just care. Was she worried? Yeah, but she knew displaying that to you would only make you go further into your hole you had dug for yourself. 

Still, you disembarked and found yourself now in a new situation, a new trauma; Phil Coulson had returned...sort of. 

It was him in the physical form, just not the...mental form? Still, it threw yourself and Daisy, just how seeing Fitz (the older version you cared for dearly) threw you earlier. 

You and Daisy walked away, trying to ignore what you had just seen. It didn’t, however, work that way. 

You instead ended up on the man’s (Sarge) truck, going to stop someone known as Izel, you didn’t care who she was, just that she was a threat to your family. 

So, on board you went. 

He pulled you up to the front, Daisy giving you a pat on the shoulder for encouragement as you went; you gave her a smile before entering. 

“So, smiley tells me you went off to space.” He said, wasting no time it seemed. 

You nodded, “Had a little trip, sure.” 

“What for?” 

“It wasn’t for you, if that’s what you’re getting at.” 

He scoffed, “Trust me, I might have an ego, but not that high of one. What were you really looking for?” 

“Why do you wanna know?” 

“Snow’s...difficult, but I’ve known her long enough to know when she needs to talk.” 

“You offering me a shoulder?” 

“A cold one. But you seem to be more open than your sister. All she wanted to talk about was me.” 

“She’s always been inquisitive.” 

“And you're sensitive.” 

“Was.” 

“Sounds like there’s a story there.” Wow, he was not stopping. 

“I will when you do.” He smirked. 

And he did, just to spite you it seemed; he opened up about Izel and his past; how his planet was destroyed and how revenge and hate drove him. 

He lied at one point, saying it was love, but he quickly said it was the hate that drove him instead. 

Love drove you, you knew that, but also fear. Fear of who Fitz would be.

Sarge looked at you, eyes almost daring you to open up; Daisy caught the look, quickly brining the attention back to her and away from you. She hated it, the look in his eyes, the amusement he got from causing you that discomfort. 

Then he was gone, he was out and you were barreling for a tower filled with Shrike (little bat things) that would infect everyone. 

Sarge was gone, and you were going to slam into the tower with a nuke. 

Deke did what he could to try and defuse it, but was unsuccessful. 

Daisy looked to you, seeing you only staring at the bomb that would now surely take your life; you looked devastated. Her eyes softened as she took one of your hands in her own, she gave it a squeeze, a silent “I love you.” 

Then it all went black…

Only, you woke up. You woke up to Daisy over the bomb with her powers making it go back into the bomb. 

She took care of the shrike too, vaporizing them as they entered. 

Then...then he entered. Leopold Fitz…

It was different seeing him in person, actually seeing him. 

Deke had hugged him.

Daisy smiled, as did May. 

You did, a small amount; he looked like his innocent self, not the beared man who had hurt him. 

But he was still there...always there deep down. 

You had a party, and he smiled at you; you lifted your bottle up, but your smile wasn’t as full as it used to be. 

You left early. 

Then you were forced to work together, looking into what made Sarge...well, Sarge, as Daisy spoke to him. 

She let it all out, the vitreal, the anger at this situation. Fitz chanced a look to you, seeing how you kept your distance, didn’t look at him. 

“Y/N...are you ok?” He asked; Jemma even paused what she was doing to look over at you in concern. 

You gulped, just hearing his voice made you go back mentally, “...Yeah, fine.” You said, trying to hang tough. 

His hand hit your shoulder, and you flinched away, slapping the hand away. He ignored the pain, he just kept his hands up and took a step back. 

“...I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” You said, walking away, ignoring Jemma saying your name softly as you left. 

You went back to your retreat. You felt the place shake, but you just hid yourself more. You couldn’t do this, your hand went to your wound as you felt the burning from it when you were shot. You heard the broken of “NO!” From both Daisy and Jemma. You --

You felt a hand on your shoulder, a soft one and yet you still cried out at it. The hand stayed, however, and you felt yourself be pulled into a hug. 

“I got you, Y/N...I got you.” It was Daisy, and you felt her tears hit you on the top of your head as you sobbed. 

You stayed like that for a bit, with you just sobbing into her as you took yourself back to what would have been your death had...had Jemma not acted so quickly. 

Jemma, the woman who had been by your side this whole time, along with Daisy of course. But Jemma never forced you into anything about the topic, she respected your boundaries. 

“Is...is he?” You started to ask before you hiccuped.

“He wanted to wait...but he understands if you don’t --”

“No, no I wanna see him...It...I can’t just ignore him forever.” You said, Daisy still holding you close.

“Ok...ok.” She said, kissing you on your head before helping you up and bring you to the door.

She opened it, and you smiled at your brother. Not the doctor. But Leopold Fitz, the man who hadn’t lost to his demons. 

And he smiled back softly. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daisy gave you a hug before departing on her mission, and that left you with Fitzsimmons. Jemma stood on one side, Fitz on the other. 

You stood as a united trio as you watched the mission occur. 

“Y/N, I...I’m sorry.” You let him finish this time. 

This time, you also looked at him, “It -- it wasn’t you.” 

“...I know. But, I still did it.” He said, not wanting to let himself of the hook.

You nodded sadly, “We fixed the timeline...We saved you, we’re all back together now...I’m sure we’ll get there with us, anyway.” 

He smiled, he knew you would, and he hoped dearly that he would. 

Jemma smiled, glad you were starting to heal. 

Now though, without knowing, it would be a while before you would see your friends again fully...

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Hi! Could you write hcs for poly bakusquad with a quirkless reader who has a serious independent streak but has recently been a target for villain attacks and got injured, but refuses to rely on anyone and tries to ignore their pain and take care of everyone else, please?

This is gonna be a little angsty

• First- it annoyed bakugou that you, someone /quirkless/ made it into the hero class

• On pure fucking spite and anger alone

• You didn't even particularly want to get in to UA

• It was just something you chose to prove someone wrong about

• and it fucking aggravated him- more than aggravated him

• Inspired Deku though, he hated that even more

• and he isn't surebhow- but he ended up talking to you and suddenly you're part of his friend group and he's /okay/ with that

• that irks him too.

• and a lot of things are uncovered when y'all are friendly w eachother

• and they learn pretty fucking fast about your independent streak

• and when you all started dating (crazy how they managed that) they thought it might go away- only it didn't.

• You never asked for help, regardless of what it was- you'd handle it on your own.

• You got hurt during training? Don't worry about it, I'm fine.

• Failed a test? You'd disappear for a few days to study and retake it.

• Didn't know what you were doing in a particular subject? You'd teach it to yourself.

• Aizawa had heard the words 'help' ONCE and he was limited to the help you'd allow him to give you .

• You trained your ass off everyday, you worked hard in school, you took no shit- it was obvious you felt like you had something to prove.

• Bakugou felt like he was a partial reason for that and it made him feel like shit.

• He wasn't exactly the kindest to you when classes started in first year.

• But he was concerned.

• They were all concerned.

• recently, you'd been stressed out. They could tell, even if you weren't giving them signs.

• On top of that, you'd become a big target for villains and no one knew why.

• it seemed like both you and midoryia were a magnet for assholes in masks

• And they tried talking to you about it, they do.

• Denki brings it up, he's holding your hand, Kirishima is threading his fingers through your hair and Seros behind you, holding your waist. Mina is in between your legs, resting her head on your chest and bakugou is at the end of the bed.

• And Denki asks if you need help- whether its coping with it- or dealing with it while its happening- or trying to figure out /why/ they're attacking you

• and you blow him off "it doesn't matter, i'll deal with it if it happens again."

"It's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when." Bakugou glares.

"Okay, then when it happens again, I'll deal with it."

"That's fucking stupid," he growls.

Kami squeezes your hand gently. "Maybe we should have a plan-" he glares at Bakugou.

"I was fine last time. Don't do this."

"Do what? Offer fucking help?" Bakugou snaps and Mina cringes. She grips your shirt. She knows what's going to happen, she knows you're going to stomp off to think- it could be a few hours or it could be days. Sometimes, if she held something on you, you'd stay. She hoped this was the case.

"Your fucking pity." You seeth. "I don't need it. I can take care of myself."

"Baby we didn't-" kiri starts but you're already sliding off the bed.

"Babe," Sero looks at you. "please come talk about it,"

You say nothing, and let the door close behind you.

"Fuck." Mina sighs

• Its 2 days.

• 2 days before you resurface, calm and collected, like nothing happened.

• but you're busy- you're training harder. Much harder, you're pushing yourself past your limits and its obvious

• they were already impressed. Theg already knew you could take care of yourself. Why couldn't you see that?

• you push and push and push

• and they don't see as much of you

• when they do see you at the end of the night, you always look exhausted

• and you put on the same fucking front each time

• you smile and laugh and kiss them goodnight but they can see you're in pain

• they don't even get a chance to talk about it with you

• because the next thing they know

• theyre in another attack and youre in the center of it

• You're fighting and you're holding him off but you aren't going to last much longer

• You were tired from the day before- you hadn't gotten proper sleep- and he was strong

• It's all kind of a blur, really, you're thrown a lot, youre bleeding

• he had you by the neck at the end, you were clawing at his hands and he was laughing

• your mates weren't exactly in the best shape either- after all, the attack had happened in the middle of the night

• A strong kick to the center of his nose seemed to do the trick. There was a sickening crack and his hand loosened and he fell back.

• When you regained youre senses you froze- he wasn't breathing.

• you /killed/ him.

• Your stomach churned and suddenly all the pain you felt increased ten fold.

• You scrambled to stand up, Mina was the first one you saw and you fell to your knees in front of her, cupping her cheeks. "Baby? Baby you okay?"

"M fine, but you're not, that's a lot of blood." She looked up at you her eyes wide. "Baby that's a lot-"

"I'm okay, I promise."

• She wanted to yell and scream and you, she wanted to hit you and telling to just accept help but you'd already stood up, moving to look around for the others.

• Denki was next, you met him with a hug and a short but desperate kiss. "You okay?" You whisper, brushing your thumb over his bruised cheek. Mina was behind you now, gently brushing her fingers through the blondes hair, but she stepped away when she saw Kiri and Bakugou.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he smiked softly.

"Eiji? Katsu?" You mumbled.

"They're okay, they're fine. You don't look so good though."

"M- M okay.." you mutter. Youre tired now. Standing here is nice. You're dizzy- Ashido was right. That was a lot of blood.

Your eyes close and your weight falls.

"Hey- Hey- Jesus! Guys! Katsuki! I don't- I can't tell if she's breathing-"

• You wake up in the hospital 2 days later.

• Mina's in the bed with you, hand thrown gently over your thighs. Sero and Denki are on the left side, heads down, eye's closed and arms over your shin.

• Kiris got your left hand in his, another hand in Minas hip.

• Bakugous on the right side, arms crossed and head down.

• and youre confused because why the fuck are you here?

• what happened?

• you miss Katsukis voice next to you when it all comes back

• and you can't help but scramble to sit up and suddenly you can't breathe

• youre not sure how long you zoned out, but when you finally get back, there's two nurses

• ones replacing and IV bag

• and the other is checking your tempature, you think.

• theres another needle stick in your arm but you can't pay mind to it right now.

• the warmth around you was gone and you desperately wanted it back.

• they weren't in the room anymore

• and when the nurses cleared the room, the tears spilled over.

• your brought your hands to cover your face and your head fell back.

• five minutes? 10 minures? Later there was a gentle tap on your shoulder

• it was ashido

• your arms were around in her seconds

• "You okay?" She whispered as the others took their spots around the bed.

"No," you shook your head. "I killed him- and and I could've gotten you guys hurt because I didn't listen," your breathing had started to get faster again.

"Hey, it's okay. Just breathe," she soothes, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

"I can't- I- fuck /help me/-" you gasp out

• It takes awhile, but they managed to calm you down.

• Ashido just holds you, she lets you cry, and Kiri reminds you that you're okay

• they do most of the comforting usually

• when you're breath has finally started to even out, and you can feel the pain again, you know you'll be asleep soon from the pain meds.

"How bad was it?" You whisper, hands still gripling Minas shirt.

"Bad." Katsuki spoke. "You stopped breathing when we got you here."

Sero rubbed his face. "You needed a blood transfusion. They weren't entirely sure how it was going to end."

"You were...you were just standing in my arms and then you weren't moving. And then you weren't answering-" denki breathed. "There was blood everywhere."

"What about you guys?"

"Can you just stop?" Katsuki groaned. "Can you just let us worry about /you/? Let us help. Don't ask about us. You almost /died/ and your only fucking thought is us. Why?" He was crying, head down, hands gripping his pants.

"He's got a point. It's okay to ask for help," kirishima whispers. "So why don't you?"

• you're quiet for a few moments.

• do you go into detail.

• or do you dodge the question.

• ultimately, the fear of losing them outweighed any shame you would have felt

• "its hard not having a quirk." You mumble, eyes down. "Quirks are practically currency. And power is highly valued. I don't have that. I don't have any of that. I'm in a constant risk of being replaced and if I ask for help, they know I'm weak. I can't ask for help."

• And they all feel their hearts shatter a little bit.

• Bakugou had poked fun at you for quite some time in first year for not having a quirk.

• and Denki wasn't much better- neither was Sero. They'd make jokes about how fast you'd drop out.

• Bakugou would break a little bit, reminding you that you weren't weak. You still being alive was proof of that.

• and slowly

• slowly you get accustomed to ask for help.

• its not necessarily with words- sometimes they ask and you just nod

• or you ask in your own way.

• youre independent streak remains- but its not as bad.