#insufferable parents so true

[flying-cat]

I can't imagine being anywhere near as insane as Trump supporters because my dad told me that he, earlier, drove past a guy putting a "Harris Walz 2024" sign outside his house and decided to yell out at him "TRUMP 2024 YOU COCKSUCKER" and flip him off. And he laughed when he told me because he thinks that yelling at a man (emphasized man because he thinks men should be "better" than women, and "better" would be voting for Trump in this case) who is voting for a "whore who slept her way to the top" (his exact words) is funny. And expected me to laugh with him. And got angry when I didn't and just stared at him in disbelief. Even though he already knows that I don't like Donald Trump. These people fully expect others to find their weird ass derogatory words and behavior FUNNY. Donald Trump is leading a cult of old people who he brainwashed into being delusional with him.

[corneille-moisie]

oooh i just realized that having had my interests invalidated and/or having them ridiculed by others as a kid probably had a direct influence on my hatred of mainstream things, and also most likely is what pushed me towards goth, and then towards VK 🤔

[mynameisbillandimaheadcase]

.

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘

Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.

Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!

Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.

He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.

He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.

That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.

He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.

So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.

"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.

He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.

Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.

He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.

Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.

Your name.

Oh, how he remembered you.

You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...

But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.

You were a little brat was what you were.

Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.

Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".

They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.

He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.

You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.

His little siblings were much cuter.

And he did not hesitate to say that.

"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.

"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."

This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.

Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.

You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.

How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?

Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!

Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.

All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."

Never before had he felt so cheated.

That begun his feud with a two year old.

Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.

It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.

"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.

He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.

That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife

If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.

Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.

But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.

In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.

So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.

"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."

The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.

"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.

In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.

Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.

It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.

He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.

But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.

His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.

His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.

Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.

What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?

With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.

His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.

He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.

The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.

But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.

This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.

And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.

Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.

He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.

"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."

Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.

"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."

To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.

Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.

You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.

He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.

So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.

"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."

He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.

"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.

"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."

He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.

"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."

He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.

"And loving you as you love me."

Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.

Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."

His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.

"And you will forever be mine."

His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.

Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.

Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.

As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.

But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.

You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.

He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.

The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.

All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.

"I do.", you said.

He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.

"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.

After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.

Fervently, passionately kissed you.

It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.

But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.

After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.

"Could we take a walk in the garden?"

While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.

The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.

"Won't you be cold?"

"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.

"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.

He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.

And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.

"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.

"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.

"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."

To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.

The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".

His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.

"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."

Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.

But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."

He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.

So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.

"Let's warm you up, huh?"

Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.

So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.

[dc-gotham-instincts-wild]

Smol Au where Bruce heard one 1 detail about Tim’s home life and immediately went into Bat-Dad Override Mode.

Like, imagine Tim offhandedly mentioning something like, “Oh yeah, my parents used to forget I existed sometimes. I once had to fake a break-in just to get their attention.” And Bruce just freezes. Cue the world's longest internal monologue:

"Wait. What. What do you mean 'forget you existed'? What do you mean 'fake a break-in'? TIM, WHAT DO YOU MEAN—"

And the next thing you know, Tim blinks and—boom, Brucie Wayne has casually committed legal theft.

Paperwork? Done. Custody battle? There was none. Jack Drake? Doesn’t even realize he’s been replaced yet. Bruce just pulls some billionaire strings, has Alfred pack up Tim’s things, and suddenly Tim legally belongs to the Batfamily (As if he didn't emotionally belong to them already)

Tim: “Wait, what?” Bruce: “You live here now.” Tim (Scared of Jack): “But my father-” Bruce (Hugging him): “No. I'm done seeing you go back to a place where they don't care.”

Meanwhile, Dick, Jason, Cass, Steph, and Damian are in the background, going absolutely feral over the fact that Bruce didn’t do this sooner.

Dick is so happy he picks Tim up and swings him around like a ragdoll.

Jason takes the opportunity and breaks into the place and steals the expensive stuff that Tim mentioned he liked.

Cass just smiles and nods approvingly before immediately making Tim do some ridiculous high-difficulty sparring because "You are true family."

Steph is thriving because she’s been screaming about how her twin deserved better for years. More chaos fun for them now.

Meanwhile, Damian is pretending to be normal about it.

He’s sitting there like “Hmph. This changes nothing.”

Internally, he is losing his mind. “Father should have stolen custody a long time ago.”

He spends the next month being extra insufferable about Tim’s new legal status but also follows him around just a bit more than usual.

Then Duke shows up later, and the other Batkids make sure he gets the memo.

Cass just hands him a file labeled “People We Hate.” Jack Drake is at the top.

Jason corners him like “If you ever see a Ouija board, we’re using it to haunt Jack Drake.”

Dick just gives him the reasons straight

Steph just mentions it once or twice.

Damian openly insults Jack at a gala

By the end of the week, Duke is fully briefed and casually says “Screw Jack Drake” at the dinner table, earning an approving nod from Jason.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 4 ] || [ Chapter 6 ]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ tags: a little bit of angst in this one, mentions of infidelity, also, Price is divorced. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 5: GET LAID?

[The scolding Price gives is fully inspired by Captain Holt from B99]

“YOU. DID. WHAT?!” Price’s voice was so loud it bounced off the walls and Soap could swear the door was rattling.

The environment inside of Price’s tiny little office was beyond tense. Gaz sat across from Price on the arm chair, with his hands clasped over his lap. Soap stood beside him, hands on the back of the other chair, constantly shuffling and readjusting. And Ghost was all the way in the back of the room, arms crossed and one foot scuffing up the wall he was leaning against.

They looked like a group of kids at the headmaster’s office, getting the reaming of a century and waiting for their parents to come get them, only to get reamed out some more by them. Except they’re grown adults and Price is, in a way, both the headmaster and their father.

Granted, they probably should’ve waited until tomorrow morning when they’re not all a bit buzzed from one too many beers…  It seemed tonight was just one of those nights where they have little to no restraint… and are incapable to be reasoned with.

“If it’s any consolation, I told them you wouldn’t be too keen on 'em buttin' in your life.” Ghost spoke up while dipping his head to the side in a lazy shrug.

This earned him a sharp look from Price, who swivelled on his executive chair, turning a bit to properly face Ghost. The man looked seconds away from blowing up, eyes widened and wild.

“And yet you still HELPED 'EM?!” The Captain scolded him, to which Simon replied with a full shrug.

“They made a compelling case. You’ve been insufferable, boss.” He remarked, causing Price to sputter a bit.

“I didn’t wanna say anything, but it’s true, Captain. You need to get laid.” Soap jumped in.

His hackles raised and he stood up, slamming his hands on the desk, causing a rattling in the white mug he used as a pen holder. Gaz couldn’t help but wonder if the Captain didn’t hurt his palms.

“GET LAID?!” Price shouted in a tone almost akin to panic. “MY LOVE LIFE IS NONE OF YOUR CONCERN!” Price scolded them all, rausing a hand and pointing his finger at no one in particular. 

“AND I WOULDN’T BE SO INSUFFERABLE IF YOU LOT DID YOUR JOBS. BUT NO, I’M HAVING TO FIX YOUR MESSES AND DEAL WITH ALL THIS BULLSHIT!” He shouted as he ran his hand over a pile of documents on the edge of his desk, sending them all flying to the floor.

None of the lads shook in the face of the Captain’s shouts. They were all used to it, having heard enough of them from other C.O.s in their careers and, especially, more than enough from John in the last year.

Price huffed through his nose and hung his head for a moment. Then, he tossed himself back in his chair, leaning it back and grumbling under his breath.

He sat with his legs parted, left arm over the desk top, the right one hanging limply over his lap. He grumbled under his breath, his mustache scrunching a bit as he raised his right hand to rub his eyes.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell…” Price grumbled and swiveled his chair back toward the desk, inadvertently toward Soap and Gaz as well, setting his elbows on either side of the black desk mat.

He held his head up with both hands, his blue eyes sliding downward to the phone they had set in front of him when explaining what they did, which now sat between his elbows. 

In it was the Tinder profile they had created, the gimmicky, silly little shite that includes grainy photos of him and a bio written in the 3rd person. What impressed him was the fact that somehow, despite only having been active for an hour, according to them, the account had already seen about 35 likes and a handful of DMs from people.

Most of them were curious about the bio, some of them asking a variation of ‘Does John know you made this account?’, etc.

However, it bothered him that they did this behind his back, never once stopping to ask if he needed or wanted their help (AND HE DIDN’T). “You need to delete this.” He ended up saying after a moment of silence.

He grabbed the phone and set it on the edge of his desk to be taken by either Gaz or Soap, with a bit more aggression than he meant to. “Deactivate it, whatever.” He added.

“But, sir-” Soap tried to say, being shushed by Price raising a hand to signal him to quiet down.

“No buts.” He said directly as he raised his head and glared right at Soap. “And you need to tell that person that you already promised a date to that I’m not interested and APOLOGIZE for leading them on.” He ordered.

“Boss… C’mon.” Ghost called for him from his corner, causing John’s head to slowly turn to face him, eyebrows scrunched when he noticed the gaze Simon was sending him.

Cursed be Simon Riley, the only tosser in the entire SAS other than MacMillan, who can read John like the open book that he prides himself in not being.

But of course Simon knows why he’s so reluctant. He was there 5 years ago… when Price called him from his car in a side road somewhere, so drunk that his words were more so obscene slurs than words themselves, spewing mentions of loss and betrayal and a visceral need to cave a man’s face in, of emptying magazine after magazine on his wife’s lover’s body.

Simon went to get him, took the man home to his own shitty little flat, let him sleep off the inebriation in his bed, looked after him just in case he’d choke on his own drunken vomit, and the next afternoon, when Price was more himself, he drove Price to his marital home and helped him pack his bags.

Price stayed at his apartment for almost 6 months before getting his own place. Not that Ghost minded. Returning to the barracks was embarrassing for the Captain�� And getting his own place required time and patience, which Price was lacking. 

Eventually, Price signed the divorce papers, the matter was settled, and Price went on leave. Ghost took his as well and helped him settle into a flat, helped him assemble furniture, brought him meals.

Then started Price’s fuckboy era. Which is how Gaz and Soap heard of his proclivity to hook up with people. Gender didn’t matter, so much as getting momentary satisfaction and some of the shadows out of his bones. 

Then, Graves and Shepherd happened… And Price cut it cold turkey. He was pent up. Point blank. Went from getting regular satisfaction to getting nothing and burying himself in his work. Blaming himself for not noticing the signs earlier.

Sometimes Ghost wondered if the man was going through a mid-life crisis.

“You could use it, boss.” Ghost added as he looked Price right in the eyes. “What’s one night, huh? Just going for a drink with them?”

“Simon-” Price tried arguing.

“Please, sir. We promise you’ll like ‘em.” Gaz pleaded. 

“Yeah, sir, we all talked with ‘em and they’re a right laugh.” Soap added.

Taking a deep breath, John leaned back on his chair again and threw his hands in the air again.

“Alright.” He conceded. “BUT!” He interrupted them before they got too giddy. “None of this… Tinder shite.” He gestured vaguely to the phone at the edge of the desk.

“You set up a meet-up this Friday at a pub nearby. No more after that.” He ordered.

“On it!” Gaz said as he snatched the phone from the desk to dm you.

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago

[wing-ed-thing]

Being Dumb and 12-Years-Old with Team 7 Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Being 12, Mixed AU

𓆃 Genin are a different breed of insufferable. Because they do such heavy, "adult" work, the times genin get to be kids, they almost double down and have to get a certain amount of thoughtlessness out of their system.

Naruto

𓆃 Naruto is just spending money on useless things. He has no idea how to handle money at all and will pay for things in the lowest coin denomination possible.

𓆃 He's a sucker for "limited-time" snacks, no matter what the flavor, and he's paying for everything with the lowest denomination possible.

𓆃 So you're standing at the cash register with your two "spicy pickle and cream" flavored onigiri while the poor cashier has to count 200 1ryō coins.

𓆃 And even after all of that, Naruto will be short.

𓆃 Naruto will be too loud and laugh too much in public spaces. He can't keep his hands off anything and will get you kicked out of at least one (1) business every few weeks.

𓆃 Will go into a business without buying anything and just sit down and hang out. Has absolutely no social anxiety and will stay completely oblivious to the clear mounting frustration on the employee's face until he's asked to leave.

𓆃 Be prepared to apologize for him a million times or instead you can validate to him that he totally didn't do anything wrong— what was that guy's problem?

𓆃 Then you're going back to his apartment, trying to eat spicy noodles— that were actually far too spicy for either of you but neither of you are admitting that— and getting into scream debates over TV shows until the neighbors are banging on the wall because you're being too loud.

𓆃 He's also showing you the grossest things the internet has to offer and traumatizing you for life.

Sakura

𓆃 You and Sakura think you're such mature little adults, meanwhile, you're getting all anxious about the passive aggressive fights you're getting into with your peers.

𓆃 And in true 12-year-old fashion, no one is beefing with each other to their faces, but you sure as hell are sending each other to talk to other people and then report back to you.

𓆃 You once texted Ino's "ex-boyfriend" just asking, "Is this ___?” He threatened to call the authorities and Sakura and Ino had to calm you down for the rest of the night.

𓆃 You think you're being sneaky using the samples from the beauty store to put make up on, and looking back you're baffled you didn't get an infection.

𓆃 Any underwear outside of standard cotton panties is scandalous and terrifying, and there was definitely a time you all bought a lacy undergarment together and worried for a solid hour how to get them home without your parents knowing.

𓆃 You never wore them. Your parents never found out.

𓆃 Sakura and Ino gave you a make over during a sleepover once, even though their version of make up was just very caked on foundation and boxy eyebrows.

𓆃 Every so often, the three of you will pair off and have fights with each other. You and Sakura will have a fight that Ino "mediates." You'll "mediate" a fight between Sakura and Ino... and totally take sides. You'll tell Sakura that Ino's wrong, and Ino that Sakura is wrong.

𓆃 The fights don't last long and usually result in some tears shed and ice cream bought.

Sasuke

𓆃 Sasuke touts himself as a sort of wiz on the piano or perhaps on the guitar, when in reality, he just learned to play three songs really well.

𓆃 He won't outwardly flex, but you can tell he likes to be recognized for it. He'd whip the skill out on days he's feeling particularly down.

𓆃 He'll tell you that you're going to "start a band," but you "won't be like other music groups that just want to get famous". But in reality, when you go over to his place, you'll just end up eating junk food, playing games, and won't ever actually touch an instrument.

𓆃 The closest you'll get is karaoke, but if you ever mention it ever again Sasuke won't talk to you for a week.

𓆃 And he's not immune to sending someone back and forth with messages to you because he's not talking to you. But "not in the way girls do," whatever that means.

𓆃 He’ll also accidentally download something shady from a shady website one night after going down some obscure internet rabbit hole, and Sasuke will say he's not worried about it, but he'll call you when you get home hyperventilating about how worried he is about it.

𓆃 You'll try to learn how to ride the latest form of transportation on wheels together, but the moment Sasuke discovers he's not instantly good at it he'll get mad at you for being better than he is even though it's only been 10 minutes and are you really that better than he is?

𓆃 Only posing for pictures with a scowl and hands clasped in front of you. Bonus points if your head is tilted back. These are photos you and Sasuke hide when you're older.

𓆃 Coming up with nicknames for yourselves and subtly trying to encourage other people to start calling you those nicknames.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: No offense to any 12 year olds in the audience. Being your age is universally a cringe time it's okay it's a right of passage.

[detectivestucks]

Brat Taming

18+ Content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Kakashi x F!Reader

Summery: Modern AU Kakashi is your arrogant and creepy step brother. One night while your parents are out of town you come home from a night of partying only to find Kakashi in your room, ready to make you pay for all your cheeky comments

Warnings: NSFW, NONCON, Stepcest, Toxic Kakashi, brat taming, oral, fingering, unprotected penetration, choking, anal play, facial, hair pulling, harsh spanking, under age drinking.

Word Count: 4.6k

Anon Ask

When your mom married Sakumo three years ago you thought your Clueless fantasy was about to come true. Your new step brother, Kakashi, was stupid hot. He was blessed with a gorgeous angular face, deep brown eyes, thick silky silver hair and a mouthwatering scar over his left eye. He loved to walk around the house either in fitted muscle tanks or shirtless with only loose gray sweats, showing off his chiseled frame. On top of that he had big masculine hands with perfectly manicured fingers that you would daydream about grazing your most sensitive areas. He was going to be your Josh and you were Cher waiting for him to fall madly in love with you. 

Only it turned out he was a complete and total ass.

Soon after your parents got together he had been accepted to Harvard and loved to lord over everyone what a genius he is. You quickly grew a distaste for the prick and got cheeky whenever he felt the need to remind you of his superiority. 

Currently you are a freshman in college starting your second semester at UMass. You chose to live at home to keep your mom company since you didn’t like the idea of living in a tiny dorm room with some random roommate you didn’t know. Kakashi on the other hand, just got kicked out of the dorms last semester and was finishing his Junior year at home with you and your parents. 

It turns out you were not the only person he liked to mouth off to. He got into several arguments with many of his dorm mates and the RA. Eventually he was banned from on-campus housing and now you were left to suffer through daily interactions with the world's most annoying step brother. 

Always his insufferable self, recently Kakashi has been extra creepy. He seems to have forgotten what a shirt is and rarely had one on his back. Sometimes you thought you caught him palming himself out of the corner of your eye and you would catch him staring at you when you get ready to go out with your friends. Most annoyingly, sometimes he’d hang out in your bedroom when you were trying to get ready for bed.

“Can I help you?”

“Just making sure you’re not so brain dead that you forgot how to put on pants. I know it can be hard for some people.”

“Oh is that so? Cause I was just making sure you didn't forget how to shut your mouth. I know it can be hard for some people.”

“Careful, now. You should really mind who you’re speaking to that way.”

“Sorry, I don’t take kindly to creeps who think I’m too stupid to put on pants. Is that why they kicked you out? Cause you were trying to show girls how to put on their pants?”

Kakashi furiously charged up to you and got right in your face. You were scared but you weren’t gonna show him that. Instead you glare at him. 

“Watch it kid or you’ll find yourself in a world of trouble.”

“Threats don’t work with me big bro. Try again some other time.”

Angry, he left the room. Closing his door with a snap. 

It had been like this for weeks. His unwelcome presence always looming around. You hated the way he looked at you. It was like he was hunting for a reason to tear you down. Whether it was your degree, your ‘public university’ education, or your slutty outfit choices. The guy needed a life. Most of the time you’d quip back but sometimes you just didn’t have the energy and instead roll your eyes. Tonight was one of those nights. Sakumo and your mom were out of town on a romantic getaway so you were going out while Kakashi tried to lord over you as the ‘man of the house.’

“Ah you going to see your boy toy? You know you’re never going to get a respectable man dressed like that.”

“I’m not going to see any boy toy, I’m going out with my friends.”

You see him give a smug smirk at your answer

“Besides, it’s not up to you if I’m looking for a respectable man or not. Maybe I’m not looking for one at all.”

“So just looking to be a little whore. I see how it is.”

You glare at him before rolling your eyes.

“I’m out. See you later, loser.”

You catch Kakashi’s face paint in fury as you leave. He hated how you constantly try to undermine him. He hated that you were such a brat. And he truly hated how no one ever put you in your place. 

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

You loudly came home at 2am from partying with your friends. You were a little inebriated and stumbled to the kitchen to get water before heading upstairs to bed. You make your way up the stairs, tripping over your high heels. You get to your bedroom and when you turn on the light you see Kakashi already laying in your bed. 

“Seriously, what’s your problem?”

“I have no problem. I’m not the one getting home at 2 am after a night of underage drinking.”

You were hit with a wave of sobriety at his words. If he told your mom, you’d be screwed. Seeing your expression, he knew he had you cornered. Kakashi stands up and walks past you as if he’s leaving the room, putting himself between you and the door before changing his mind and closing it.

“Remember when I said you should watch it?” 

He turns to you, taking a step forward. You begin to stumble backwards towards the bed.

“You’re such a filthy brat” he spits.

You continue to stumble backwards, your heels slipping off your feet. 

“And there's nothing I love more than putting a brat in her place.”

Your eyes widen in fear as you see a dark smile stretch across his face. Calves hitting the bed, you fall down to the floor and Kakashi weaves his strong hands into your hair, pulling it back so you’re forced to stare up at him. Your mind hazy, you begin to realize exactly how he imagines putting you in your place and it causes you to tremble. 

He tugs down his sweatpants and pulls out his length. Its weight slaps you in the face with a heavy thud. You flinch in his grasp but his fingers tighten in your locks as he begins beating you with his manhood.

“Drunk little girls like you don’t deserve to brush their teeth with a toothbrush. They only get to brush their teeth with cock. Now open that brat mouth for me.”

“No!”

Kakashi spits on your face. “I said open”

In your outrage you open your mouth about to hurl an insult at him when he shoved himself between your lips and pushed your head all the way down to his stomach. You were gagging and retching around him. You pushed against his thighs with all your might but your pathetic drunken arms were no match for his robust muscular physique. 

“That’s it. Choke on my cock you twerp.”

He groaned as he feels you constrict around his tip in an attempt to swallow air. Your eyes were tearing up from oxygen deprivation and your entire body was rigid in your struggle. He roughly pulls you up and down on him, pummeling your throat with a manhood much too large for your mouth. You feel your jaw lock as you open wide, tears falling freely from your eyes. 

He pulls you off of him and slaps your drool and tear drenched face. 

“Look at you. Just a little slut swallowing me so good. It seems college has at least taught you how to swallow dick so I guess your tuition has been put to good use.”

Your chest is heaving as you gulp down fresh air, seeing two of him with inebriated eyes while the pain of your hair being pulled registers in your hazy mind. 

“Again.”

He plummets into your mouth once more, fucking your face while you choke. Drool dribbling past your lips and down the front of your dress. He threatens you,

“Don’t even think about running to mommy. I’ll tell her all about how drunk you were and how you came onto me and you’ll be grounded and not allowed to see your little friends for the rest of the semester. Got it?”

He shakes your head with the hand grasping your hair. You whine ‘yes’ with a full mouth as you cry out from the pain. He retreats from your throat and you cough while he shoves you face down on your bed. He bends you over its edge, ass facing him. You desperately bring your hands to the back of your head, trying to pull off the hand tangled in your hair. He pushes you down into the mattress with force majeure and you sob from your dishonorable predicament.

“Resisting is futile little sis. This is what happens to brats who don’t know their place.”

He pulls up the skirt of your mini dress and yanks down your strappy thong. 

“Who are you wearing this slutty underwear for, huh? I thought you weren’t going to meet up with any boys” you hear a hum of amusement from his chest. “Did you wear this for me?”

“Fuck off” you choke.

“Ah, you see? You shouldn’t have said that.” He spreads your legs and brings his hand up to forcefully slap your sex. You yelp and flinch. 

“This is the very attitude I was talking about sis.” He slaps you again, this time harder.

“Someone’s gotta beat this out of you.” He slaps you again, this time with significant strength. 

Kakashi catches some arousal dripping out of you when he removes his hand from your folds. He lets out a chuckle. “Seems like you’re enjoying this.” 

His words burn you with embarrassment and reignite your struggles till he plunges his fingers inside of your gummy cunt. You gasp at his uninvited intrusion. He feels around, stroking in and out, coating his knuckles in your secretions. As he toys with you he hits your sweet spot and an involuntary groan spills past your lips. 

“Oh, you like that, huh?”

You shake your head ‘no’ but when he does it again you moan once more, walls tightening around his fingers. He pulls out of you and spanks your cheek causing you to cry. 

“You’re not supposed to enjoy it brat.” he snarls before sinking his fingers into you again. 

He maliciously milks your sweet spot, driving you to a crazed state. You struggle to refrain from moaning but if you fail and a cry slips past your lips be brings a heavy palm down on your rear with so much force that the red handprints quickly turn purple. He repeats the torturous process till you are thrashing in his grasp and he has to pull you up by your hair to pin you down on the bed with his body weight on top of you to stop your struggle. 

Kneeling on either side of your arms, weight on your chest, he can see the mascara run down your cheeks. He swells with pride seeing you made messy by his hands. He shoves himself back into your mouth. You kick and try to push him off of you but he has no patience for your misbehavior. He reaches behind himself and gives you a slap between your legs. 

Your resulting squeal vibrates along his shaft. A pleasured growl rumbles from his chest so he continues to reach around, beating against your cunt while he thrusts in and out of your mouth. 

Your fingers begin to dig into him, scratching up his legs as you desperately try to get him off of you. He rips himself from your mouth and grabs you by your wrists.

“You wanna play rough, sis? I can give you rough.”

He gives you a shit eating grin as he leans all his weight on your restrained wrists and uses his knees to spread your legs. You feel the heat of his length rub against your folds as he gets his body into position. You quickly realize you’re losing the war and he’s going to get exactly wants. You squirm and wiggle your hips trying to stop him from sinking in. In his frustration he pulls down the top of your dress and slaps your tit. You feel the sting as your arm goes to his chest but he quickly recaptures your wrist.

“Stop moving” he warns

“Fuck you loser!”

“Gladly”

The most sickening smile splits his face as he sinks himself deep into you. A loud groan is pushed out of you as he shoves your organs out of the way with his fat cock. 

“Wanna say that again?” he croons in your ear

You look up at him with doe eyes, not ready for how he is about to tear you apart and shake your head ‘no’

“That’s what I thought.”

He glides into you slow and deep, making sure you feel every vein as he violates you. He loves watching your eyes go wide every time he bottoms out, pausing to feel the full effect of him stuffing you. You whimper and groan stretched more than you thought possible, helplessly trapped. There was no running, no way out. You were alone and defenseless.

Nevertheless you struggle under his weight, trying to free your wrists. Annoyed by your incessant struggle he decides to bring them above your head and pin them together, freeing up his hand so he can grab your nipple, squeezing it between his index finger and thumb. You squirm as he applies pressure. 

“Keep resisting and see what happens” Kakashi threatens as he pulls up with your bud trapped in his pinch. You draw breath through your teeth, the pain consuming your thoughts. Not even registering that he hasn’t stopped rutting into you the entire time. 

“Gahh!”

“Understand?” You’re so focused on the pain in your nipple that all you do is whimper. “Answer me!” he barks with a twist of your nub

“Nggh! Fine!” Your eyes are screwed shut. You begin to open them when he releases your captive bud but you flinch when he slaps your tit again. 

He grabs your face, smushing your cheeks together. 

“See, I knew you could follow directions. That’s a smart girl”

You loathed him but you couldn’t help how your walls were restricting around him. His size massaged your sweet slit in such a gratifying way. Your body completely betrayed your mind. It seemed completely out of touch with the gravity of your situation. He left you breathless, your lungs forgetting how to breathe, as he pummeled into you. 

Anger on your mind, you watched him as he watched you. You pan over his stinging brown eyes, his angular features, and the mole that sits just below his drool inducing lips. He was hot and you hate him all the more for it. 

Disgust written on your mug as he studies you, anxiously waiting to watch you break. He picks up a little speed and you groan into it. You immediately regret the noise when you see a smug simper stretch on his face. You try to give him a glare but he hits you with a particularly sharp thrust and your face betrays you as your mouth falls open and your profile softens from pleasure. 

“I knew you were just a weak little slut.”

“Shut up.”

He slaps your face. “Wanna try that again?”

You attempt another glare at him but he thrusts up into you in a way that hits a sweet spot and you mewl for him.

“Ah! Thank you, ah.”

His chuckle makes your stomach twist as you realize what you said. 

“Ahh, she has manners.” condescension thick. You truly hate him.

He continues to thrust against the same spot making you pant under him. You cry pleasured screams from the sensation. He kept going, enjoying the view of you coming undone against your will. 

The sounds of your submission were getting a touch too loud. Trusting that you would behave, he strips off his shirt to reveal his well defined muscular frame beneath. He balls up the hem and shoves it in your mouth before returning a hand to your wrists, obediently still crossed together, waiting to be restrained again. 

You hated how good it felt. The recognition of him pleasuring you made you feel slimy on the inside, and desperate to get him off of you. He was your brother. Your arrogant asshole of a brother, yet he had you panting and crying beneath him. He was such a sick fuck. 

He gains speed. Beginning to bang the headboard into the wall. The sound thundering through the quiet night. Good thing the parents weren’t home to hear you cause he was beginning to lose his composure. He had been so careful to conceal his hunger but it was evident in his eyes that he was wild with lust. You sing into your gag, eyes beginning to roll back into your head. His unrelenting pace, his careful aim, and his grunts combined into a euphoric melody that had you spasming around him, calling his name through the gag. Your body stiffened as the orgasm tore through you.

“That’s a good brat. See how good it is to behave?”

You dumbly nod your head as the aftershocks course through your system. He strokes slowly allowing you to fall limp before he barks at you again.

“Get on your knees” he says, lifting his weight off of your wrists. He helps you flip over on your stomach and his hands pull up your hips so they are aligned with his pelvis. You attempt to support your weight on your arms when he pushes your head back down, roughly shoving you into the mattress. 

“Brats get fucked like whores. Lift your slut face off the sheets and there will be consequences..”

You cry out as you obey his command. He pushes in just the tip and you anxiously close around it before he pulls out again. You hate the way you whined from how empty you felt. He pushes in just a little deeper before retreating again, toying with you to prove his point. This time when he begins to line up his tip you rock your hips all the way back so he ‘s buried inside of you. You hadn’t anticipated how the angle would overstimulate you and you gasp about to pull away but his hands grab your hips and hold you steady. He begins to chuckle. 

“Such a twerp, complaining about something you did to yourself.”

You loathe yourself for how you sought him out just now. He was assaulting you and you were practically begging him to fill you. It was all a game to him and your pathetic response was exhilarating.

He  brings his hand down on your backside that was already bruised and purple from his earlier battery. You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, cries muffled by his shirt. He strikes you more. Every time you try to tuck your tail under to avoid the abuse he pushes down on your back. You were not running away from him. You were a mouse trapped in the maze. 

He begins to ram into you, the plush tissue of your behind rippling violently as his hips collide into you on repeat. Your fingers spread and grip onto your duvet for dear life as he bullies himself deep into you. 

You can’t handle the feeling. He’s too big! You lift yourself up trying to change the angle, trying to find relief, when his formidable hands sweep across your neck and choke you. He pulls you up just enough that your arms couldn’t reach the mattress and your entire body weight was supported by his grip on your neck. His hands sink into your trachea with every plummet into your slick cavern. 

You claw at his hands on your neck, trying to get under his fingers to lift the pressure from your windpipe so you could breathe. Your attempts were futile. Eventually your hands grip his wrists, giving up on being allowed to breathe.

“I told you not to lift your face. Here I thought you were learning your lesson.”

Seeing the gag start to fall out of your mouth, he lifts one hand off your neck to stuff it deeper before returning it to your throat. You spasm around him, tears spilling from your eyes, back involuntarily bowing, allowing him to push against your diaphragm. He knocked the wind out of you without allowing you to catch your breath. His cruelty leaves you putty in his hands, pliable and bending to his will. Gushing around his girth, broken and winded.

“Now you’re starting to get the picture.”

Pleasured cries permeate through the fabric in your mouth. He doesn’t plan on letting up any time soon either. He’s enjoying the view too much. Your glutes shake with each thrust while they’re spread wide open. He hones in on your puckered rear when he remembers what he found when he was snooping in your room. 

He pulls out of you and grabs you around the waist, pulling your back into his cut chest, possessively holding you so you can’t run away as he drags you across the bed where he can reach into your nightstand drawer. He pulls out your tiny black plug with a blue gem on the end. You look over and through your dazed state you realize what he grabbed and you start to protest. 

“No, no, no, no” you say through the cloth.

He shoves you down pulling your hips up once more and shoving your face back into the bed so your cries cannot be heard. His spit falls onto your rear, pooling over your sphincter where he pushes down on the tapered tip of your plug. You begin to wail.

“What’s all the fuss for? This is your’s, is it not? I thought whores liked having their holes stuffed.”

You tried pulling away but his grip on your hips tightened and he slammed back into you enjoying the friction of where the plug encroached on the space in your tunnel. 

You looked so beautiful with the blue gem protruding out of your dirty hole. He was definitely going to do this to you again. He was going to make you beg him for it once he was done putting you in your place. 

The thought of you coming to his room, plug in place, to get another taste of his fat cock made him ravenous. He rails into you using every drop of athleticism he has. You start to scream and go dizzy. His heavy balls slap into the bundle of nerves swelling between your legs. Eventually they swing into you with so much voracity that you twitch with each stroke of his hips. Your face began to melt into the mattress from his pounding and you are certain he will break your neck from the force. 

He flips you over, pushing your hips up so your knees are by your face, ass high in the air. He stands on the bed and sinks himself between your lips, thrusting down into you with all his might. Abdominals flexing with each thrust, passionate grunts bending you in half. The impossible positions shredding what was left of your once tight pussy. 

“Take it little slut.”

He can see the helpless tears leak from your eyes as you feel every inch of him being swallowed up by your soiled cunt. 

“Fuck Kakashi” you moan between labored breaths. 

He smirks. He had you just where he wanted you. He only needed to push you over the edge. He reached down and begins whirling circles around your clit. You shriek and knock your knees together. But his silky chuckle cuts your mind like a knife. The fucker was laughing at you. You squirm but your current position was so compromising you couldn’t move. He plays with you rubbing more vigorously. You scream and holler under him unfamiliar with such intensity as this.

“Ple-Pl-ease” you dumbly whine. 

“Please what, sis? You’ll need to speak up”

“M-may I c-cu-mm?”

He pounds into you without relenting. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that”

He was such an abhorrent ass but the heat in your lower belly was boiling over and you needed to release. You try to phish your voice from the back of your mind but it’s swimming and the way he drags along your ridges while swirling your sensitive bud has you desperate for him. 

“Gah! Please l’me cum!”

The glint in his eyes sickened you but you didn’t have the strength to care as he readjusted his stroke to pound into the sweet spot he found earlier. Your entire body convulsed under him as you had the most intense orgasm of your life. 

Kakashi, pleased with his successful session of taming you, feels his own gratification on its precipice.

He pulls out of your quaking cunt with a slap to your sensitive clit causing your hips to fall to the mattress with a cry. Your destroyed state was erotic. Helplessly shaking, sweat all over your body, dress bunched around your stomach, hair knotted and messy, ass still plugged and tears drenching your face. His fingers seek out your hair to hold you still while he paints your face white. 

“That’s a good girl. Take your reward.”

You tremble in his arms. When his seed can no longer shoot from his tip and simply oozes from his slit Kakashi presses himself against your lips. You part them slightly to give it a kiss leaving him to shutter from sensitivity. 

“Yes, very good”

He brushes your cheek with his thumb pad smearing his cum along your skin. You look up at him pathetically and he smiles down on you. 

“There we go sweet sister. That’s much better.”

You make a little whine that he finds so precious. 

“Go clean yourself up little one.” he pets your head before pulling on his sweatpants and tucking himself away. “I’m going to bed. Feel free to join me if you want.” 

He grabs his shirt, throwing it over his shoulder before lacing both hands together behind his head as he walks away. 

Your lip quivers as you entertain the idea, realizing you were hopelessly hooked.

Shakily you get up, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and walk naked to the bathroom. Kakashi glances over from his bed as he sees you through the crack in his bedroom door before exhaustion lulls him to sleep. 

He wakes up a half hour later to your weak-willed body slipping into his bed completely naked. He opens his arms, letting you settle into his chest before he closes them around you. You exhale with a small sigh and in your mind you know you would be yearning for the next time the two of you are home alone so he could tie you up and brutally defile you again. 

He plants a kiss on your forehead, mind flooded with gratification at finally breaking you down into such a needy state. 

He reaches down between your cheeks to see you kept your plug in tact. He gives it a small tug and you look up at him with a whine. He nuzzled your nose and whispers to you in his silky smooth voice before gently pressing a kiss on your lips. 

“Such a filthy brat”

Masterlist

[gabrielleyueerrrrr]

I rewatched AVM episode 29, and I think there’s something the fandom may not have been clear enough.

In this montage, Purple was telling Green how they grew up under the harsh training of their father Navy, eventually Navy left their family, leaving them alone to face their mother Orchid's death. Do note that we were watching this from Purple's POV, and in Purple's POV, Navy left because they consistently failed to meet Navy's expectations due to a lack of resilience and combat prowess. It's not far fetched to say that Purple was blaming themselves for their parents' separation and possibly even for their mother's death.

But is Navy's departure really Purple's fault? Definitely not. If we compare the height of Purple and Navy in this scene, it's safe to assume Purple was just a child or a preteen when Navy left.

Would any parent with their right mind would be so dissatisfied with a child's performance(who is no older than 13), that they chose to leave their family? This is the equivalent of a father abandoning his middle schooled children because they can't do well in school. Highly unlikely.

A more reasonable explanation is that Navy left because of him and Orchid's incompatible parenting styles. We can see in the montage that Orchid had always been very lenient with Purple, offering them her arms to hide from Navy.

Orchid definitely disagreed with Navy's parenting methods. She could have accused Navy of hurting Purple(whether it is true or not is really up to debate), and Navy could be frustrated at Orchid for always letting Purple hide away from challenges, which could also be true. This was the source of their conflict and eventually, coparenting with Orchid became insufferable to Navy. So, Navy chose to leave this family for good.

Navy left because of the conflict between him and Orchid, not because of Purple.

It saddens me to see Purple bearing the burden of their parents' mistakes. This kid had been through so much, and none of that was their fault. It was truly fortunate that they met Mango, a parent that wouldn't expect too much from them and wouldn't be overly indulgent either.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 3.

Summary: Your second year at Oxford brings with it Farleigh, much to your delight, and you get to learn about Farleigh's personal nemesis (which he rolls his eyes at every time you call him that) Oliver. It turns out Oliver's actually very lovely, and does Felix quite the favour one unassuming morning. Farleigh's not happy to see him again, but Felix is.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: heavy drinking by everyone at the pub including the reader, and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.

A/N: 5101 words. much longer than the last ones, and we finally have oliver!! very excited to FINALLY be able to write their weird little fuckin dynamic at oxford, i love them all very much. im a bit unhappy with the pacing of the beginning but i like how it picks up once oli is introduced, but also the bar scene is SO LONG and i will not apologise i love them your honour. id be mighty grateful for any feedback or if you have any thoughts in general about the story, i stare at so many kind asks in my inbox lovingly, i will answer them very soon i promise!! also this is so unedited, sorry lol.

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife

----

At first you don't notice him for who he is. At first you hear about Farleigh's insufferable tutoring partner. At first, Oliver Quick means absolutely nothing to you.

The most important part of your second year of college is that Farleigh has finally conceded to joining you and Felix at Oxford. Once, during the last Summer break, while Felix had been off confronting his at-the-time good friend Eddie, after Farleigh had told him Eddie and Venetia had been sleeping together, you and Farleigh had gotten high in the maze to avoid the fallout.

Since the Cattons were paying for his education, he'd admitted that he wanted to remove himself as much as possible from his mother's legacy and memory and the guilt Sir James held about his sister. It would be hard to do at a college where he would be a legacy student because of his mother's attendance. You think you partly understood; certain people, usually staff, liked to kiss your ass when they found out about your own legacy status and the people your parents became, you're not so sure they'd treat Farleigh the same, all things considered.

But he's out of options.

Sometimes you're not sure what to make of Farleigh; his strange place in the Catton family was never something they seemed to like to discuss around you, but Farleigh was far more candid about it. So when he pulls these stunts, gets himself kicked out of schools, puts himself in precarious positions despite how you knew he genuinely enjoyed academics, especially literature, you can't help but wonder why.

"Don't try and pathologize it," you could hear him rolling his eyes as he attempted to scale the minotaur statue in the middle of the maze. Looking up at him from where you're laying in the grass, you watch him rise above the walls into the sunshine. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe he should stop, get down, be safe, but he looks far more content up there, on the edge. Maybe he feels freer up there, even if he knows it's not true.

So now he's with you and Felix at Oxford, a first year only academically, he slots perfectly into the group of friends you'd both already managed to collect.

The point is, you have no idea that of everything that happens in those first few weeks of your second year, the parties, the hook ups, the social dances you found yourself doing, that the guy Farleigh likes to complain about from his tutoring sessions - Oliver, Farleigh always says it with an eye roll - would mean so much more to you than you'd ever expect.

Everything about the man you would come to find extraordinary, from the outside, was completely, and charmingly, ordinary. Including how you'd met him.

Felix had overslept again, and threw a pillow at the door when you'd stuck your head into his room to remind him that he had classes. You'd left yourself enough time to walk, but Felix would have to at least run if he didn't get his ass up soon, or would ride his bike instead. Its on your way, so you duck your head in to at least check it there.

What you don't expect is the unassuming man with dark hair to have a gentle, almost caressing hand on the tire of Felix's bike. When you make a confused noise, he about jumps a foot in the air.

"Sorry," he seems to shrink in from himself, recoiling from the bike like he'd been caught red handed, "just admiring." He babbles, but can't meet your eyes. For a moment, you look over him, before turning your attention to the ludicrously expensive mountain bike that Felix has always taken for granted.

"It is a nice bike," you find yourself grinning, stepping towards the bike and giving the tire a squeeze, both as a show of your own appreciation, and to test the pressure, just in case, "didn't mean to spook you..." And you trail off, prompting for his name, holding your hand out.

It hangs in the air for a moment, and the man before you gives you a proper look over. The way he holds himself, as if trying to take up as little space as physically possible, but his eyes, his gaze, oh it longed to swallow whole every detail of everything he cast it upon.

"Oliver," he says after a very long moment. Despite his demure voice, there's something deliberate, unwavering about it, "Quick," he follows it up with, "I'm Oliver Quick." And he ducks his gaze, sparing you from his intensity as you shake his hand.

"Oliver Quick," you turn the name over on your tongue; the same Oliver that Farleigh's been complaining about, you ponder, before giving him a smile, "I'm Y/N." As soon as the handshake drops, Oliver's doing that thing again, shrinking back and looking uncomfortable in the space.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around," Oliver nods but can't meet your gaze, "around campus, I mean -" Which reminds you -

"Fuck, I'm almost running late," you hissed, spinning on your heel, "sorry to run Ollie, you seem lovely!" You call over your shoulder as you bolt to class, hearing him calling out;

"No trouble," and awkwardly trailing off the further away you get, "you seem... very nice too..."

Bursting through the door to your tutorial with five minutes to spare, your lecture looks up from his desk for a brief moment. Giving him a nod, you try and slip past him to grab a seat by one of your friends, chatting near the back, when he raises his voice.

"No Mister Catton today either, I presume," he says with a sigh, and you again check you watch before plastering on an apologetic smile.

"He'll be here," you assured, "promise." The professor did not seem impressed.

Sitting next to India, she immediately greets you with a hug.

"Felix hung over?" She grins, and you anyway in respond with a smirk.

"After last night? I'd assume so."

"King's Arms tonight?"

"Of course."

When he does eventually show up, it's ten minutes late with an apology about how his bike had gotten a flat tire. The professor, just tells him to take a seat, and Felix does with many placating thanks, sliding into one of the open few open seats in the row in front of yours. Ruffling his hair, he throws a faintly guilty grin over his shoulder at you and India, telling you both not to start.

After the tutorial, you fully intend of having lunch with India, as the two of you don't have any other classes until the afternoon, the two of you walk with Felix to where he'd stashed his bike before his next lecture. Except -

"That's not yours," you look at the bicycle curiously, "I thought you had a flat."

"Had," Felix agrees, wheeling the unfamiliar bike from the rack with a grin, "bloody angel of a man lent me his."

"Of course someone just gave you their bike," India chuckles, reaching out to give Felix's shoulder a squeeze before he mounts the bike with intent to take off.

"Lent," Felix grinned back, "I'm gonna give it back."

"And what about yours?" You asked, eyebrows raised.

"He took it back for me."

"Your hero," you laughed, shaking your head at him.

"My absolute hero," Felix agreed, "I'll tell you about it later, okay? King's Arms tonight?"

And once he's away, and you and India are on your way to the campus cafe, her arm tucked in hers, she gives you a knowing, almost exasperated smile.

"You're already trying to figure out how to fix his tire, aren't you?" Her nails dig a little too much and her smile's a little too sly and her tone almost grates against a thought you don't like to consider, so you push it to the back of your mind and give an embarrassed little smile.

"Was it that obvious?"

"No, but you are," she leans in, lips almost against your ear, smile in her voice, "endearingly predictable," she murmurs against the shell of your ear, "you're always wrapped up in him."

"Right now I seem to be rather wrapped up in you," you rest your free hand on hers, tucked into the crook of her elbow, taking her hint and lowering your voice to something flirty.

"And make darling Felix wait?" She teased in response. Instead of answering her properly, you ask her back to your dorm under the guise of lunch and she happily accepts.

The bike shop is closed and Felix has class and you can't even be sure if this supposed bike saviour has even returned Felix's bike by now; there's no waiting, but India likes feeling prioritised, so you keep all that to your self. India likes to feel important in Felix's life. Anyone who Felix spends even a little of his time and attention on ends up rather addicted to that feeling, to feeling special to Felix Catton, and India is one of the many who have picked up on your own importance to the man himself.

So you're not dating India. You're also not not dating India; you're a placeholder of sorts, which would be cruel to you if you didn't like her well enough or if you weren't satisfied taking your fun with her. It would also probably be cruel to India if she knew the truth, that Felix thought she was hot and wasn't ready to commit to maybe dating her, but that he was getting that way he sometimes got about people, that he wanted them around, wanting to not share them, but without devoting himself to them. That's where you come in. A placeholder. A proxy. An almost. Someone who makes this pretty girl feel important and close to Felix. Someone Felix isn't worried about falling in love with India even while keeping her happy and around.

When you arrive late to the King's Arms with your own around India's shoulders, Felix lights up while Farleigh, from beside him, narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"Cute shade of lipstick," he says slyly, even as he moves over at Felix's insistence to fit both yourself and India in the booth beside him. Farleigh flicks the collar of the shirt you'd thrown on in a rush to get dressed for afternoon classes, "on both of you."

"Are you jealous, Farleigh?" India grins, taking it all in stride as you pull your collar out with your thumb to try and inspect it. India's lipstick was smeared faintly against the collar from where she'd been enthusiastically kissing her way down your jaw a few hours earlier.

"Of course," Farleigh's sly smile widens to a cocky grin, and he winks at her, while she leans over you to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a wicked grin.

"Right in front of her partner?" Annabel, Felix's latest fling was on his other side, reaching over Felix to shove Farleigh's shoulder with a scandalised laugh.

"Not really together," India mused, even as she shifted to lean heavily against you, her arm around you and tucking herself up by your side. You nodded in kind, shrugging as Felix had to hide his laughter in his pint.

"And besides," Farleigh declares in a voice you knew all too well, "if anyone knows how to share it's Y/N," with a cheshire-cat smile and making a show of putting his hand far up your thigh under the table. Surprised by the outright boldness of it all, Felix, who had been trying to take a sip to cover his amusement, ends up snorting beer out of his nose as he laughs, which sets the whole table off.

It's later in the night, several rounds of drinks and plates of chips, when you finally remember to ask Felix about his bike. There's this look in his eyes as he recounts the details, how he'd somehow gotten on the wrong side of something small and sharp when he'd been found by his 'absolute hero'.

"Ollie," he says brightly, "Ollie - Oliver - something, I don't -" he's babbling, and though he doesn't at the time, both yourself and Farleigh react, though in vastly different ways.

"Oliver?" Farleigh draws out the name with disdain, like it's done him some sort of personal affront, or set off a bad smell, judging by his expression.

"Don't make that face," Felix rolls his eyes, giving Farleigh a good-natured shove, but it's all becoming background noise to you as you glance over your shoulder. In your mind, all you can focus on the brief but captivating moments you shared with a blue-eyed Oliver just this morning. As if by fate, when you finally come back to reality, and realise you're staring at the bar, you see those same blue eyes staring back at you, intense and surprised.

"There he is!" Behind you, Felix's voice raises above the din of the pub with barely restrained glee, "Ollie! Oliver! Oliver!" And immediately those blue eyes snap to your attention-grabbing best friend, "come over here, mate!" Felix insists, and you drop your gaze with a faint smile.

As Felix loudly and insistently vies for Oliver's attention and company, you briefly raise your gaze, only to see the disdain on Farleigh's face having grown immensely.

Oliver. Farleigh's classmate Oliver. Insufferable tutoring Oliver. Know-it-all Oliver. 'Thus' Oliver. No regard for style in his academics or his wardrobe Oliver.

Felix's hero, Oliver.

Considering how much joy Farleigh took from ribbing you at every given opportunity, just to see your squirm for his amusement, you supposed you could take some joy from his discomfort in this moment. When he sees your smug smile he scowls at you.

"This guy's my fucking hero," you've heard that warmth in Felix's voice a hundred times over, "just telling everyone how you saved my ass today," you wonder how long it will take Oliver to fall for him too.

Oliver, for his part, plays at being abashed as the rest of the group gives him faint compliments, gaze surprisingly shallow as he takes you all in. Keeping your own eyes down for the moment, you take the cigarette from India that you'd been sharing with her. You quickly reach into Felix's jean pocket beside you for the lighter you know is there, and when you look up to light it, cigarette poised between your lips, you see Oliver's gaze momentarily focused on the lack of space between yourself and Felix, where your hand had disappeared. Felix, you know without even having to look at him, hasn't even looked away from Oliver once.

"Take a seat, I owe you a drink," Felix grins, and is already shoving the few people on his left, before you put a hand on his arm to get him to settle down.

"Could you get the next round, India?" You ask her quietly, and though she hesitates for a moment, she relents, considering it was meant to be her shout after all.

Oliver is hesitating as India stands and smooths out her skirt, heading for the bar, and finally Felix remembers that most people's worlds don't revolve around him.

"Oh, sorry, are you with friends?"

Another moment of deliberation from Oliver, before he finally relents to Felix, and agrees to join them. Looking around, there's a chair next to a table behind Farleigh that was going unused, or -

When you pat the now empty seat at the end of the booth beside yourself, you're not looking at Oliver. Chin in your hand and cigarette poised between your fingers, you're giving Farleigh a grin that's all teeth, while he looks like he's trying to stave off a sudden tension headache.

"Come here, Oliver Quick," you refuse to explain your smug smile, "I don't bite."

"Yes they do," Farleigh huffs in irate response, to which most of the rest of the group cracks up. The leather beside you shifts, and you can feel the heat Oliver radiates before you even look at him.

"Quick, Oliver Quick!" Felix, behind you, is muttering almost to himself, before adding, "wait, how did you know that?" And throwing himself practically over your shoulder as you'd turned to face Oliver properly.

"We met this morning," you say quietly, gaze fixed on Oliver's, on the way he's taking you both in. With Felix's chin on your shoulder, the two of you cheek to cheek and watching him with interest, it could be enough to send anyone else running. But his gaze isn't the shallow one he'd ghosted across the others, he's drinking this moment, and the both of you, in. Smile stretching wide across your face and you tip your head against Felix's, "just as lovely as I thought," and turning your face even slightly towards Felix means your lips against his temple, not that either of you seem to mind, "your hero."

"My fuckin' hero," Felix agrees adamantly, though you and he sit back as India approaches with a tray of pints and an exasperated look.

"And you've given up my seat," she sighs, placing the drinks on the table for everyone else to take their share. Farleigh's already passive-aggressively reached behind himself to grab the extra empty chair, and you promise to make it up to her with a heavy layer of implications that the rest of the table snickers at.

Introductions are made and drinks are had and the night carries on apace until you, at the very least, felt like you could call yourself reasonably wasted. Despite how quiet Oliver is in the general conversation, Felix makes a point of always including him, arm around your shoulders so he can lean across you to talk to him, while Oliver just tried to keep up.

Everything about Oliver shouted that these people weren't his people; his clothes, his accent, his vernacular, his very unfamiliarity with who so many of them were considering their families were often titans of industry. Still, you respected the effort he was making to keep up. Whenever even the hint of a joke at Oliver's expense could be felt in the air, Felix shut it down, and though it started out subtle, it became less so as the night wore on; the grateful look on Oliver's face, even as he tried to duck to hide it, said how much he appreciated the gesture.

It's decided almost unanimously by the time you have to buy a round that it should be the first round of shots for the table. Several more would be to come, but you were getting tequila, and all the fanfare that came with it.

Getting back to the table you find Oliver's slid into your spot by Felix. Though he tries to apologise and get up, you shush him, insisting it's fine as you sit down next to him with the tray of shots topped with lime wedges, and the shot glass half full of salt for the table the bartender had kindly provided.

"You do know this is why I was late to my tutorial this morning," Felix still helped himself to a shot glass with lime as the salt was being passed around the table.

"Salt?" Oliver frowned at the glass in front of him, "lime?"

"You've never done tequila shots before?" Farleigh scoffed, holding India's hand up in front of himself where she'd offered it to him to apply salt.

"No, I haven't," is all Oliver can say awkwardly, watching as Farleigh sprinkled a line of salt across the back of India's aloft hand, licking it up in one swift motion before he took the shot and bit the lime in quick succession.

"Salt, shot, lime," you give Oliver a nudge to bring his attention back to you.

"Salt, shot, lime," Oliver repeats, looking from his glass to the glass full of salt that Felix had reached over and brought to your side of the table, "do I have to lick the salt off of someone else?"

"Not necessarily," Felix says from his other side, while Annabel giggled and allowed him to apply salt to her hand.

"More fun that way," she adds coyly.

"Not unless you want to," your own shot glass sits untouched, salt now sitting between both your glasses.

"Do you- should I-" Oliver's stumbling over his words, fidgeting with the end of the lime.

"Lick it off their neck," Farleigh barked from across the table, and though you tried to tell Oliver that he didn't have to do anything like that, and Felix's disappointed admonishment of his cousin, the entire rest of the table, who had finished their own shots and were now invested in the drama, light up with agreement.

"You're so crass, you're gonna give him the wrong idea," Felix groaned, rolling his eyes with frustration.

"I love Y/N but I don't think there is a wrong idea about them -"

"Watch what the fuck you say about them, Farleigh -"

"Watch what I say about your fucking dog-?"

"I'll lick their neck!" Oliver announces at the top of his lungs, interrupting the vicious barb, and the way Felix had practically leapt across half the table in a sudden fury. For a long moment, tense silence hangs in the air, Farleigh half out of his chair, wearing a sneer, and Felix braced over the table with white-knuckled fists pressed into the woodgrain. Then, as Felix sits back down and things begin to ease, once again all eyes return to Oliver, who's shifting in his seat, looking at you with almost apology in his eyes, "if- if you're okay with that."

After a beat, you break into a self deprecating smile.

"I do like getting my neck licked," you laughed, and immediately angled your head and pulled the collar of your shirt to the side so he could have a better angle and more of your shoulder to apply salt. The tension dropped almost entirely as everyone but Farleigh and Felix burst out in cheers. Chatter arose again as Oliver fumbled with the salt, but you caught Felix's eyes from behind him. Tension in his brow that you longed to smooth away, and discomfort in his gaze, but when you smiled you could see him take a breath, and smile back.

"I won't bite," it comes as a surprise when you hear Oliver say this, so quiet only you can hear as he diligently applies a sprinkle of salt to the soft skin of where your throat meets your shoulder, "promise," you can't see his expression but you think you can hear him smirking. It actually sounds almost like flirting.

India's been glaring at you across the table whenever she hasn't been flirting overtly with Farleigh for the past half an hour. So you flirt back.

"Not even if I ask nicely?" You murmur back, trying to repress the thrill that the whole moment was giving you. You hear the faintest, momentary rumble of a laugh from Oliver before you feel his hand on your thigh as if to steady himself, and his tongue on your neck. It's barely a second of contact, the delicate caress of his mouth as he licked the line of salt clear from your skin. Quickly, he then takes the shot, and swallows before biting down on the lime, making a pained face as the table cheered.

His hand is still on your thigh; his grip is tight.

As he's spluttering and grinning and Felix is clapping him on the back for the effort, he's rather abashedly offering himself to you, if you'd like to repeat the same salt process on him -

"You've done enough for your first shot, Ollie," you told him with a fond nudge, happily applying salt to the back of your own hand, completing the ritual with far less fanfare. Still, when you glance past Oliver to Felix, you see the way he's regarding the newcomer, with a kind of awe and warmth. This too you know well.

Crammed so close in the booth, Felix's arm stays around Oliver's shoulders for most of the rest of the night, and while no-one can see it, Oliver's hand remains on your thigh. Sometimes he taps along to the music of the pub that you've already tuned out, sometimes he's rubbing small circles with his thumb, or give you a squeeze when he's laughing at a joke, but it never waivers.

The more drunk you become, the more you find yourself leaning into him, and you begin to tune out the conversation, focusing only on your drink, the warmth of Oliver and his hand on you, and on the sensation of Felix's hand playing with your hair since his arm was around Oliver's shoulders, and you're leaning your head against him.

Everything's become blurry, your brain is still trying to catch up after you take another shot from muscle memory alone when Farleigh starts insisting on Oliver shout the next round, and for that round to be jaeger bombs.

"We just did shots," you shake your head with a faint frown, but the movement makes you feel all kind of queasy.

"You tapping out?" Farleigh, in much better spirits considering how many he'd consumed, is all wide, challenging smiles full of teeth.

"Nope," you again shake your head, against your better judgement, "never ever ever." Everything is spinning, even with your eyes closed.

"Then you shouldn't be letting Ollie snake his way out of paying for his round," Farleigh sounds all kinds of smug, and despite how you're all kind of done with him for tonight, and Oliver is trying to insist that he's not trying to wiggle out of paying for a round, the rest of the table have apparently taken up Farleigh's crusade. They're booing him, hissing at him, while Farleigh's smugness screams social triumph; you can feel Oliver's fingers twitching on your thigh, like he wants to be fidgeting but can't bring himself to let you go.

"Fine," Oliver relents to the peer pressure, letting you go and throwing his hands in the air, "can you move a sec?" He asks, and you shuffle out to let him past, before scooting back in and back beside a once more frustrated Felix.

Farleigh argues that it's the rules of the pub when Felix asks him to give Oliver a break, but you don't really hear them. You've cleared enough space on the table in front of you to be able to cross your arms on the table, laying your head on your arms to try and see if it would help. Felix is rubbing soothing circles on your back as he argues with Farleigh, probably out of pure habit, so you try and focus on that sensation, and picking a point that you see that you can focus on.

Everything's sideways, the bar, the people, the street outside, but it doesn't matter. In the moments you find yourself focusing on Oliver in the cool light of the bar, everything else falls away. He looks antsy and uncomfortable, watching the bartender pour the shots, wallet in his hand. You'd have paid in a heartbeat if Farleigh hadn't been so insistent on attacking Oliver's pride. Everything else about him was so charmingly ordinary, perhaps that's why Farleigh was infuriated by him, and why he'd attacked Oliver's pride, one of the few things that Farleigh probably believed Oliver had of value to himself.

Tomorrow, you and Farleigh were having words.

Tonight, you wanted to somehow help Oliver without making any kind of big deal about it. Problem was, you weren't sure how. You weren't even sure if you were capable of walking in straight line right now.

"Fi -" when you turn your head to your other side, you see Felix, half finished a cigarette, with a pensive look on his face as he too was watching Oliver. When he looks at you there's a moment that the two of you share, of understanding, of compassion and a shared goal, "can you get me a glass of water?" You asked, knowing he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he smiles at you, the two of you shuffling once more so he could get out of the booth and head towards Oliver and the bar.

Leaning on the end of the booth, you wait for Felix to return before you sit back down, instead focusing on the interaction between the two men at the bar. It's not that you can hear them, but you can see the grateful but anxious look in Oliver's eyes, and the way he can't look away from Felix's smile, and something sharp and bright and intrigued lights up in your chest.

There's a moment as the interaction begins winding down, when Felix takes the tray of drinks, and looks back at your gathered group of friends. His eyes meet yours, faint flicker of familiar affection passing in the next moment as he says something else to Oliver before he's making a beeline back to the group.

"Thank you, Ollie!" He announces brightly, much to the cheer and delight of the rest of the group once the jaeger bombs are set down at the table. Caught up in the sudden influx of joy, you chant Ollie's name, clapping along, not even realising that since you'd let go of the booth you were starting to take on a lean.

"You're fucking legless," Felix crows with laughter, who had already slid back into the booth and was now taking you by the arm and sitting you back down beside himself, "I'm cutting you off, you're on the waters now," he joked, arm around you to steady you, though you weren't inclined to disagree. Thankfully, in the next moment, a water was being placed in front of you, and a cheer was once again rising from the group as Oliver rejoined you all, bashful smile on his face as everyone was lavishing praise on him for following through with buying the round.

The glass was cold and clear and faintly frosted, few ice cubes floating delicately on top of the pint of water before you, looking absolutely perfect in this golden, humid pub. Even just reaching out and holding the cold glass of water in your hands seemed to make everything a little less blurry at the edges.

As you dragged the glass towards you, surprised by your sudden craving for fresh, cold water, praise tumbles from your lips, words half blurring together, and Oliver takes his seat once more beside you.

"Ollie, you're my fucking hero."

[beombunni]

BOUND BY BLOOD AND VENGEANCE ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ l.hs

》 In the kingdom of Aethera, the shadows whisper tales of revenge, betrayal, and forbidden magic. A cunning witch with a flair for deception, has spent years honing her craft for one purpose: avenging her parents’ deaths at the hands of the King. Disguised as a visiting princess from a distant realm, She charms her way into the castle, weaving lies and illusions to mask her true intent—murdering the king. Her plan is flawless, or so she believes, until she crosses paths with Heeseung, the brooding captain of the royal guard. Tasked with protecting the "princess," Heeseung finds her insufferable, too sharp-tongued and confident for his liking. But as they’re forced to spend time together, her wit begins to spark something deeper in him, despite his better judgment.

》 𝔢𝔫𝔥𝔶𝔭𝔢𝔫 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 & 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢...

pairings » witch hunter!heeseung x witch!reader

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 » smut » fantasy » forbidden romance » longing

warnings » smut, gore, death, murder, dark themes, dark magic, mcd, angst, parental death, 1500s royal ideologies, blood, graphic depiction of some death scenes, more that I will add.

« 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔞 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔟! »

word count « est. 18k »

𝔈𝔫𝔧𝔬𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱'𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔢𝔟. 28𝔱𝔥! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Steel clashes against steel, the sharp song of sparring blades echoing off the cold stone walls of the castle’s training yard. Heeseung, the King’s favored captain of the guard and a relentless shadow at court, meets every stroke of your blade with a precision that borders on infuriating. His dark eyes narrow, a storm barely restrained as your mockery dances just out of reach. "You’re quick, Princess," he grunts between blows, lips curling into something between a smile and a sneer. "But speed won't save you forever."

You laugh, light and careless despite the strain in your arm. "And brute strength won't make you any more clever, Heeseung." The comment earns a sharp twist of his wrist, forcing your blade wide. He steps into your space, the heat of exertion rolling off him as his free hand locks around your wrist. You feel the rough leather of his gauntlet bite into your skin. The edge of his blade presses against your side — not enough to cut, but enough to remind you who holds the advantage.

"Who are you?" His voice drops low, dangerously soft. The question lingers between you, weighted with suspicion. Not just a jest. Not anymore. Heeseung studies you like a puzzle he's determined to solve. You arch a brow, masking your racing thoughts with an amused tilt of your head. "Why, I’m the Princess of Elderwood, sworn to serve and protect my kingdom." The sarcasm drips from your words like venom, but you don't flinch.

His grip tightens. "You wear that title like a mask."

"And you wear your doubt like a chain," you counter smoothly. "Careful, Heeseung. It's starting to choke you."

The air between you hums with unspoken challenges, thick with tension sharper than any blade. You shift your weight subtly, feeling for the moment. Heeseung doesn’t see it coming until it’s too late. With a fluid twist, you free yourself, using his momentum against him. In a blur, he’s on his back, the world spinning upside down as you land astride him. Your dagger flashes, the cool kiss of its edge resting against his throat. His breath catches — not from fear, but surprise. You lean closer, your voice a silky whisper that wraps around him like a snare. "Who am I? Do we ever truly know who we are?" The dagger presses just enough to remind him who's in control now. "Better yet, Heeseung — do you know who you are?"

Despite himself, his lips twitch into a ghost of a smile. "You're not like any princess I've ever met."

"No," you agree softly, a dangerous glint in your eyes. "And you're not as frightening as they say, Captain"

Your blade lingers a beat longer before you rise smoothly, offering no help as he scrambles to his feet. Heeseung dusts himself off, his gaze unwavering, as if trying to peel back your layers with sheer will alone. "I'll figure you out, Princess," he vows quietly.

You flash a smile sharp enough to cut. "You can try." The challenge hangs between you like smoke, both of you knowing this game has only just begun.

ʀᴀᴇ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ, ꜱᴇɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴ ᴀꜱᴋ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ! ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ɪꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ.

[disaster-writer]

Poison (Part 1/4)

Pairing: Alpha!Bokuto Koutarou x Beta!Reader

Summary: You loved love, but it wasn’t made for you… but maybe a certain Alpha could change your mind

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: MSBY Black Jackals time period

AU: Omegaverse

“I don’t care about your presentation. It shouldn’t matter whether or not you’re a Beta and I’m an Alpha— I love you for you and not because of my biology—“

”Fucking liar,” you grumbled glaring holes into your tv, “You only love her cause it’s in the fucking script,” you grumbled once more, shoving the Valentine’s chocolate you had bought for yourself into your mouth.

”Hmmm… and you say this is your favorite movie because….?”

Your eyes snapped to your laptop, wide open and displaying your younger sister.

Truthfully you were sure every single person in the world would find you to be quite the pathetic display right now. In the midst of February, crying about fake love stories while stuffing your face with heart shaped chocolates, and talking to your sister that had to make time out of her busy school schedule just to hang out with you over FaceTime. Not to mention your hair was a wreck and you looked like you had been awake for days.

But at the age of 24 you stopped caring about the optics long ago… plus no one was ever here to pity you anyway.

”Because it’s a beautiful fucking love story about a Beta finding true love,” another chocolate down the hatch.

”Isn’t the actress an Omega in real life?” She snorted.

”Yeah and you can tell no Betas worked on this film cause they got so much shit wrong. Like how would she be able to tell he was pissed off in that one scene by his scent? We can’t smell that shit,” you ranted, throwing a piece of chocolate at the tv. Out of the corner of your eye you could see your cat walking up and sniffing the chocolate before batting it away. “They also make her too submissive.”

She hummed absentmindedly, filling in one of the answers in her homework, ”Well what do you expect? You guys only make up like, what— 2 percent of the population?”

”Maybe if you Omegas and Alphas didn’t fuck like bunnies, we wouldn’t be dying out.”

”Hey!” Your sister yelped, looking up from her homework, “Mom told you not to say stuff like that anymore!”

You grumbled something to yourself, sinking further down against the foot of your bed and into the carpet, “Sorry.”

“God I can’t wait for February to be over,” she muttered going back to her homework.

”At least I don’t bother you with this year round now. If I’m destined to die alone I can take one month out of the year to be insufferable.”

”Oh sis, you need some serious help.”

”That’s what the chocolates are for,” you say through a mouthful, “Ah! Don’t eat that Mochi!”

From your sister’s perspective she sees you suddenly leap out of frame giving her a view of the dance pole you had installed in your room— a secret you made sure both your sisters would take to the grave just so your parents wouldn’t find out. And just behind that she could faintly make out the shelves upon shelves of anime figurines you collected in the dim light of your room that was only illuminated by the TV and your laptop. You returned seconds later with a cat in your arms.

She sweat dropped. She loves you with her entire heart but holy shit, you were becoming the stereotypical sad cat lady day by day.

”Tell me again why you can’t just go out with one of the million volleyball players you manage? Or what about the other guys on the other teams? I thought you said most of them don’t have mates?” She asked, putting her pencil down and finally giving you her undivided attention. “I’ve seen some of the pictures of the guys on your team too, they’re all hot.”

You groaned, throwing your head back against the foot of your bed, ”There’s so much wrong with that question I don’t even know where to start.”

”Enlighten me then,” she deadpanned.

”Okay, one, they’re like the most stereotypical Alphas you’ll ever meet— like the Alphas of Alphas, which means a Beta is probably the last person they’d ever date. Two, most of them are unmated for good reason, they’re professional athletes, they don’t have time for that. And three, they’re my co-workers, it’s not professional!” You exclaimed, throwing a fist in the air and causing Mochi to meow and squirm out of your hold.

She narrowed her eyes at your dramatics. “Is that all?” She asked sarcastically.

”There’s probably more— ah shit the movie’s over,” you said, noticing the credits beginning to roll.

”Thank God,” your little omega sister muttered, “It’s time for you to go to bed anyway.”

”Sleep is for the weak,” you grumbled, a pocky stick hanging out the corner of your mouth while searching for a new movie.

”Huh-uh sure it is. It’s 2am and don’t you have to get up at 6?”

”5. I’m going on a run to burn off all the chocolate.”

”You could just not eat it.”

”Funny.”

She rolled her eyes, “Anyway, Ne-Chan is going to your place tomorrow right?”

”Oh yeah, that’s right,” you muttered, forgetting about your older sister’s stay.

”Thank God, she can help you through tomorrows episode instead of me.”

”Bitch.”

She started closing her textbook, ”Ok I’m gonna—“

”Y’know tomorrow will be the first time I’m seeing any of you in like a year.”

”That’s cause you never visit.”

”Well you guys could come visit me too y’know?” You scoffed, picking at your cuticle.

”Nuh uh don’t pull that, we’re all here and you’re the one that wanted to run off and isolate herself after you started making bank as a manager.”

”Yeah whatever,” you grumbled.

”I’m gonna go to bed now,” she hummed, “And you should too.”

You only grunted in response.

”Love ya, talk to you later,” she waved.

”Love you—“ she hung up, “…too,” you ended with a sigh.

You took a second, staring at the blank screen and remembering just how lonely you felt now that you were by yourself before going back to scrolling through the movies once again.

* * * *

You jolted awake to the sound of your alarm that following morning.

You turned over, registered that it was 5am, turned off the alarm, and turned back around.

What were you thinking? A 5am run? The sun wasn’t even up yet. You weren’t like the weirdos you managed on the team. You’d much rather stick to your usual workout routine.

You fell back asleep.

You would actually wake up two hours later at 7am to go to work. The guys had a 8 am practice but you couldn’t spend the practice time with them anyway as you’d be locked away in your office all day. After their last tournament they had an influx of sponsors come in and now you had your hands absolutely full with that.

However, now with the sunlight filtering in through your curtains, you forced yourself awake and to get ready for the day.

You sat up, your bed head looking worse than it did when you fell asleep. Quickly glancing around the room with bleary eyes you saw the mess you had made. Wrappers, boxes, used tissues scattered everywhere, with your tv still on.

You sighed before forcing yourself to your feet, stirring your sleeping cat on your bed. You quickly gathered the garbage together and threw it out followed by turning off the tv. 

You passed by your calendar, February 8th, only six more days until Valentine’s Day.

Your shoulders slumped as you dragged your feet over to your closet.

Truly you weren’t this desperate and pathetic all the time, it’s just this month that always seemed to get to you. 

Old habits die hard, you supposed.

Ever since you were a child you dreamed about growing up and getting married, you dreamed about falling in love and experiencing the type of love that completely electrified you and made your head dizzy, you dreamt about being held by a man that was completely crazy about you.

Maybe it was a bit naïve, but it’s what you always wanted.

But then you had to go and present as a Beta. 

You were the only Beta born to a completely traditional family. Your father was an alpha, your mother an omega, your two older brothers were both alphas, your older sister was an omega, and your younger sister was also an omega.

Turns out your great grandmother was a fucking Beta and that’s where the gene came from.

You also had no issue with being a Beta, the problem lied with the fact that Betas were so rare nowadays they were impossible to find, and other Betas would have been your dating pool. But now you were stuck feeling undesirable by both Alphas and Omegas who only wanted to mate with each other.

You slammed your closet open, a bit rougher than you intended and pulled out a pair of black slacks, a white button up, and your blazer. 

It wasn’t your typical dress attire everyday but your schedule was full of zoom meetings today with both sponsors and magazines. Any other day you would have been assisting the team during practice and dressed in one of your track suits.

You quickly stripped and dressed yourself for the day.

Now it also wasn’t as if you didn’t try within the field of love. You fought tooth and nail to experience any kind of romantic relationship but a girl could only take her confessions being rejected by Alpha after Omega after Alpha so many times. Not to mention being ditched on blind dates. For you the cumulative number that was your breaking point was thirty times. 

You loved love.

But it wasn’t made for you. 

After dressing, using the bathroom, brushing your teeth, and putting on your makeup and putting your hair in a tight bun, you headed to the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee in a to go cup before heading out the door to start your day.

The game plan for the day was to greet the team before hiding away in your office for the rest of the day. You’d meet with the CEO of Bouncing Ball on zoom followed by another sponsor you couldn’t remember but you were pretty sure it was some energy drink company. Then you’d start getting the schedule in order for the match against the Adler’s later this week. Following that you’d meet with two Sports magazines back to back to set up some interviews— speaking of interviews you also—

“Fuck,” you hissed on the train ride softly, immediately going through your bag for your agenda. The passenger next to you threw you an annoyed glance but you paid them no mind. “The press conference.”

You quickly wrote down in your agenda, that contained both your work and personal life schedules on one calendar, a reminder about that press conference that’s coming up. Then you quickly put it in your phone calendar as well.

Interviews and press conferences were a nightmare for you, between Hinata, Atsumu, and Bokuto you had your hands completely full with making sure they were in the right place at the right time because somehow they never were unless you had them all on tight leashes. 

Yeah maybe you didn’t have someone to love or love you back the way you wanted but you did have your career. And as much as they liked to drive you up a wall you did enjoy your job and your coworkers. On top of that you were still able to make a pretty decent life for yourself as you were completely independent and self sufficient, in fact you were able to send checks to help support your family now. Your apartment was basically an expensive suite that always looked immaculate due to the fact you were even able to afford a maid.

The train stopped and you got off. Now with some caffeine in your system there was more of a pep in your step. You knew that once you stepped a foot into the building you’d momentarily forget all your woes and instead act like the professional that you were as you threw yourself into your work. Your sister would be coming over later in the day and you had your Pilates class that night so you certainly had a full day ahead.

You headed straight for the gymnasium, stalking past your own office as you put a smile on your face.

Pushing the door open you headed straight towards the bench where Coach Samson and Meian were currently talking. You waved to Atsumu, Hinata, and Sakusa who were currently starting their warm ups, you assumed the rest to still be in the locker room.

You could immediately hear the squeaking of their sneakers on the flooring, the smell of salon-pas invading your nose. The ceiling was so much higher than the one of your old high school and the lights much brighter as well. 

”Good morning Samson-san, Meian-san,” you nodded towards them with a smile.

Samson returned your warm smile with one of his own, “Good morning (Y/N), you seem cheerful as always,”

”What’s not to be cheerful about?” You shrugged, “Anyways I went over your schedule yesterday, looks like you’ve got a full day of practice huh?”

”Yeah,” Meian answered, “It’s the Adlers, some of the guys are getting worked up about the upcoming match so we figured more practice wouldn’t hurt. God knows they’re gonna over practice anyway.”

”That is true,” you snorted.

”And you?” Samson asked, “You’re all dressed up again, stuck in more meetings?”

”That I am. Got some meetings with one of our sponsors and some new ones. Then I need to set up interviews with VolleyballWorld Mag and Sports Monthly— oh and we have that press conference on the 25th coming up but I’ll give you more details when that gets closer.”

Meian whistled lowly, “I’m glad I only have to do the playing, I’d lose my mind if I had your job.”

”Oh it’s not that difficult—“

”I thought we talked about not selling yourself short (Y/N),” Samson interrupted, “You’re the only manager I’ve dealt with that hasn’t lost a single sponsorship for this team. Not only that but you handle these knuckle headed Alphas so well I think they’d fall apart without you.”

You laughed at his comment and grinned, “I do appreciate the sentiment so thank you,” you nodded, “Now I only wanted to stop by and say hello, I have to prepare for the meetings now so I’ll head out. I’ll be in my office all day if you need anything.” You began turning around, waving at the two, “Good luck with practice today—“

”(Y/N)-CHAAAAAN!!”

Your shoulders immediately tensed, your eyes widening, “Oh fuck—“

Suddenly you had the air knocked out of you as you were quite literally swept off your feet by a much larger force, now being rocked side to side in the Alphas embrace as he squeezed you against his chest.

”Bokuto-san,” you managed to wheeze out, “I thought we discussed this?”

You could instantly feel him deflate, “We did…”

”And what did we say?”

”No hugging Miss Manager.”

”And why?”

”Because it’s unprofessional.”

You waited a beat for him to react but he didn’t, “That means put me down Bokuto-san.”

A second later you were back on your feet.

You huffed, straightening out your blazer and ignoring the dejected look on Bokuto’s face. After working with him for so long it was quite easy at this point. You patted his arm.

”Thank you. Always a pleasure Bokuto-san, good luck with practice—“

”You’re not staying!?” He suddenly exclaimed.

“You do realize her job isn’t just handing out towels and water bottles right?” Meian asked.

”Yeah but… Beta-chan hasn’t been to practice in ages!”

”That’s because you guys keep doing so well. The more sponsors you get the busier I become. Now you really should get to practice, it’s almost 9 now.” You said, checking your watch, “And don’t worry, I’ll be attending practice again before you know it.”

You were just about to turn and leave before Bokuto stopped you again.

“Wait! I have something for you!”

You watched in slight annoyance as Bokuto ran off to his bag and shuffled through it. Seconds later he was pulling out a black fabric and a Tupperware and then running back to you.

At this point the entirety of the team was watching whatever shit Bokuto was onto now.

”I found your jacket!” He pushed the fabric towards you.

”Oh?” You accepted it, quite surprised, “I dunno how you found one of my things again but thank you… actually I dunno how I keep losing it,” you muttered under your breath.

”And this is for you!” He exclaimed once again, handing you the container in his hand.

”Huh… Another bento?” You asked peculiarly as you looked through the container before you sighed, “I thought we talked about this as well Bokuto-san? You can’t be giving me gifts all the time it’s not—”

”Professional! I know! But I didn’t make them for you this time! I made it for me and these are left overs!”

You sweat dropped at his explanation, “Bokuto-san that’s the same thing. I can’t accept this.” Suddenly Bokuto deflated, like he always did when you declined his gifts.

You then glanced behind him at Meian who just nodded his head towards Bokuto.

You sighed.

”Alright fine,” instantly he perked up, as you took the container, “But I’m telling you you can’t keep doing this. Now go practice, I’ll try to stop by later if I can.”

With that you were spinning around on your heel, heading out of the gymnasium with your sweater and the Tupperware in hand.

Behind you Bokuto stood proudly with his hands on his hips as if he accomplished something just now.

The rest of the team stared at the scene with quite exhausted faces. This kind of show was so typical now, it came as no surprise.

“How many days does that make now?” Atsumu scoffed, leaning back into his stretch once again.

“Fuck if I know anymore,” Sakusa grumbled back.

”HEY HEY HEYYY!” 

“At least he’s in a good mood!” Hinata chirped as Bokuto ran at full speed towards them.

”Did’ya see that!? She accepted my gift!—“

”Bokuto!” Samson suddenly snapped, “Stop talking and start stretching!”

”Right!” He held a thumbs up at his coach, causing the older man to roll his eyes, before joining his teammates on the ground to stretch as well.

”She also hesitated before accepting it and told ya to stop again,” Atsumu said.

”Yeah but I think I’m making progress,” Bokuto grinned happily, “She’ll be my mate in no time!”

”It’s been nearly a year Bokuto,” Sakusa muttered.

”And how was that any different from what usually happens anyway?” Inunaki called out to them after overhearing the conversation.

”Because! That makes the 52nd time she’s accepted one of my gifts and only the 49th time she’s rejected it! And she didn’t give me penalties for hugging her this time.”

”Only?” Sakusa sweat dropped, honestly he envied how blissfully stupid Bokuto could be at times.

”If she hasn’t done anythin’ about ya courtin’ her then she doesn’t know yer courtin’ her!” Atsumu snapped in frustration, “Ignore yer stupid instincts for once and ask her out already!” Clearly he was the most annoyed with watching this show drag on for this long already. Yeah, maybe it was funny in the beginning but now Bokuto’s stupid Alpha behavior and your own obliviousness as a Beta was becoming painful to watch.

”Maybe Bokuto’s right!” Hinata butted in, “She seems to be a lot more accepting of his hugs now!”

”That’s cause she’s used to it,” Inunaki snickered. “Also whatever happened to the idea that Bokuto is also probably not her type?”

”Whaddya mean not her type? I’m everyone’s type!”

”Yeah I’m sure she likes you for your modesty,” Sakusa muttered sarcastically under his breath.

”Why wouldn’t I be her type?” Bokuto asked, seriously looking like he was trying to rack his brain for the answer.

”Well because, she’s so…” Inunaki trailed off, “Professional. And you’re…”

”You don’t think I’m professional enough for (Y/N)-chan?”

As if on cue, everyone snorted as if he just told a joke.

”You too Hinata?”

”I mean… (Y/N)-chan she’s… very…”

”Any day now,” Sakusa grumbled.

”Serious! That’s the word! She’s very serious about her job while you’re a lot more fun!”

Bokuto frowned as if he was offended, “You don’t think (Y/N)-chan is fun?”

”And you do?” Inunaki asked surprised. “None of us know anything about her. She doesn’t even go to the celebratory dinners or team bondings— we’ve never even seen her in her casual clothes.”

“That’s a good point,” Atsumu agreed, “She’s not on any social media either and she only ever talks to any of us when it has to do with volleyball— she’s like a fuckin’ NPC. Ya know nothin’ about the Beta, how’d she even manage to get ya wrapped around her finger like this?”

Bokuto stared at the gym floor and had that look in his eyes that his teammates knew too well at this point, “You’re wrong about her—“ he looked up at his teammates, “There’s more than that to Miss Manager! I know it— it’s like in her scent! And when I find out you’ll all see you were wrong!”

”So dramatic,” Sakusa said, “You keep saying this shit but she still doesn’t even know you’re interested in her.”

”Yeah, cause he won’t just fuckin’ ask her out!” Atsumu exclaimed.

”You say that now but just wait until she realizes what I did with her jacket!”

Atsumu looked at Bokuto in horror, “The fuck did ya do with her jacket?”

“I washed it with my laundry, scented it, and slept with it in my bed for a week!” He exclaimed proudly, Atsumu’s innuendo completely going over his head, “Now she’s bound to know I’ve been scenting her!”

The others, even Hinata, stared at Bokuto dumbfounded as they watched him close his eyes with a stupid grin on his face, clearly visualizing what he thought would be the moment you realized he scented you.

”I don’t know how many more times we have to say this to you,” Sakusa said, “But Beta noses don’t work that way. If anything she’s just gonna think her jacket smells like a man, I doubt she’s familiar with your specific scent at all considering she’s always around us when she does see you.”

Bokuto deflated.

”Ya know what will get her to finally notice ya?” Atsumu asked.

Bokuto perked up again.

”If ya just asked her out already!”

* * * *

You stalked into your office, the door slamming shut behind you.

You dropped the container Bokuto gave you onto your desk, placed the coffee cup down, draped your jacket behind your chair, dropped your bag onto the ground, and finally you sank into your seat with a sigh.

A smell wafted around your nose and you immediately knew it was your jacket as you sunk deeper into your seat.

It smelled like a fucking man.

”Seriously? Was it rolling around in the locker room or something?” You grumbled to yourself.

You still had an hour before your meeting with the CEO for Bouncing Ball. 

Now you could go over some notes and brush up on anything you’ve might’ve forgotten but Kenma Kozume was probably the most laid back sponsor you’ve ever dealt with and you knew your extensive knowledge about his company and all your business dealings wasn’t as impressive as it was to most other CEO’s.

And also, you didn’t want to study anyway.

You glared daggers at the container which held the lunch Bokuto made. You already made your own lunch for the day so maybe you’d give to your sister when you got home.

You glared harder at the container. “Left overs my ass,” you grumbled. There looked to be three servings of food in there.

You didn’t know why Bokuto was so persistent when it came to giving you food but if he was this generous with you then you knew he was going to make some lucky Omega out there very happy. 

“Lucky bitch,” you muttered just thinking about this metaphorical Omega. “… I wonder what Mochi is doing now?”

Before you knew it ten o’clock had rolled around and you found yourself entering the waiting room for your meeting with Kenma.

And just as you had expected, you weren’t accepted until a half hour later.

”Sorry I’m late,” Kenma muttered, clearly looking at whatever was on his computer screen than the zoom meeting. “I lost track of my stream.”

”No worries,” you hummed, “I was able to get some other work done in the meantime.”

”I’m gonna keep this brief,” more words that didn’t surprise you, “I wanted to talk to you about giving MSBY more money.”

You blinked in shock, back straightening up as you processed his words, “You want to give more, but you already give—“

”I know how much,” he hummed, “But I want to give more.”

”Oh well— thank you. Let me just grab my books and I’ll adjust a few things,” you said, immediately reaching for one of your binders that was placed neatly in your bottom drawer. “How much do you—“

”Double.”

Your jaw fell open briefly, but you quickly regained your composure, “Alright well— that’s- that’s great news. Amazing even. That’ll help pay for the repairs in the gym and then some. Thank you Kenma.”

”You’re welcome,” he hummed absentmindedly, “Tell Shouyou I said ‘Hi,’”

”Of course, as always,” you nodded, “Should I tell Bokuto you said hi as well?”

You could see a slight smirk on Kenma’s lips, “No.”

“Very well,” you snickered. Kenma didn’t seem like the type but you had come to realize he liked fucking with people sometimes.

”Feel free to tell Samson you negotiated for this deal.”

”I would if I could but everyone knows you don’t give anything to anyone unless you want to.”

He shrugged, “I suppose.”

”So was that the only matter you wanted to discuss for today?”

”Yeah. You have that meeting down with my advertisement team for the fifteenth right?”

You glanced down at your large desk calendar which as opposed to your agenda in your bag and your phone calendar only had your work schedule. 

“Yup, right here. Will you be in attendance?”

”No, I trust you when it comes to dealing with them.”

You snickered once more, “Isn’t that supposed to be the other way around?”

Kenma glared sourly at his screen, “You would think but some of those guys are becoming more and more incompetent with each day.”

”Well then I’ll be looking forward to that meeting,” you joked, “But if that’s all, I’ll leave you be. And good luck with tonight’s stream.”

”Thanks. Don’t lead Bokuto on too much today—“

”Huh?—“

”Goodbye.”

He hung up.

”Fucking CEO’s,” you muttered under your breath.

* * * *

The day had progressed quite smoothly. You had managed to get everything with the sponsors clarified and confirmed. You scheduled all the interviews that needed scheduling and on top of that you were even able to smooth over some of the details concerning the press conference at the end of the month.

Practice had ended hours ago now, you knew because Bokuto tried sticking his nose in your business as usual before Meian forced him to go home so you could work.

But now you were finally finished and packing up for the day. You shoved everything you needed into your bag, even your blazer since you’d much rather wear your jacket in this weather. You inspected it further and it had looked clean, it just very obviously smelled like the volleyball players. You’d just throw it in the wash when you did laundry later that week. 

You then shoved the bento in your bag as well before taking off for the night.

Your sister was already at your place. She had texted you around noon and had let herself in with the key you hid outside for her.

So really, you should have expected the impact when you were suddenly pinned to the ground the moment you stepped into your apartment.

”(Y/N)!!!” Your older sister had screeched above your face as your bag and its contents went flying across the room. The door was still wide open, letting the sunlight and cold air filter in over the two of you.

”You bitch!” You yelped back, before quickly flipping the two of you over so you had her pinned instead. She struggled under you but you had always been stronger than her. “You’re too old to still be greeting me like this!”

”I’m 26! Stop acting like I’m on my death bed!” She yelped, still struggling.

“Why haven’t you visited sooner! It’s been a year you whore!”

”Why haven’t you visited us back home! Sending checks every month to mom and dad doesn’t count as visiting!”

You glared at her. 

Her hair was longer now and she of course still looked as beautiful as ever.

You loved her dearly but growing up in her shadow, the most popular and beautiful Omega girl in your high school with a scent that had literally pushed multiple Alphas into ruts and even made one pass out once… well it was difficult.

You remember a cruel joke about you back in high school about how your sister was the one that got confessed to by all the Alphas and how you were always the one that had to do the confessing.

But you haven’t internalized this at all.

Of course not.

Her hair fanned out behind her, her skin was bright and glowy, her canines which were sharper than most (and also made her look like a cute little kitten according to most Alphas) poked out from behind her giant smile.

But her face suddenly screwed up in surprise as all the joy disappeared from her features which were now overshadowed by a seriousness you weren’t used to seeing her wear.

”You smell like Alpha.”

You blinked at her owlishly. “Yeah I was at work all day dummy.”

”No, no.” She suddenly sat up, pushing you back to sit up as well. She leaned in and took a deep whiff of your jacket, “You like, reek of Alpha.”

”I kinda lost this jacket a week ago and I’m convinced it was rolling around in the gym,” you offered as some explanation to the smell.

”No you idiot,” she flicked your forehead, making you wince, “You smell like one singular Alpha— are you hiding something from me?” She suddenly accused.

You scoffed, a sudden heat crawling up your neck and face as you stood up abruptly, shut the door, and kicked your heels off.

”I have no idea what the hell you’re insinuating,” you grumbled, walking over to your bag and shoving everything back in, besides the bento which you left out to put in the kitchen.

Throwing your bag on your couch, you stalked into the kitchen with your sister hot on your heels causing her skirt to sway behind her.

”Are you seeing someone?”

You stopped short, and abruptly spun on your heel to face her to which she almost crashed into you. “That’s— that’s a completely r-ridiculous question!” You spluttered, face now on fire. “And if I was, you know I’d never keep it to myself!”

Your sister tapped her chin and looked up in thought, contemplating your statement, “Hmmm… that is true…. But I’m telling you little sis, you seriously stink of Alpha right now. Like so much it’s kind of ridiculous.”

”And I’m telling you it’s just cause it got lost in the gym—“

”Oh please, I’m not buying that. You know my sense of smell is much sharper than yours so you should just listen to me.”

You clenched your jaw and ignored your thundering heartbeat resonating in your ears, “Like… so… what exactly does it smell like then?” You tried to question nonchalantly, crossing your arms and busying your fingers with a strand of hair. The thought that some Alpha scented you, that someone was interested in you was flustering you in a way no romance movie ever could.

She grinned knowingly, “Well whoever it is, they’re strong as hell— I must say that that’s probably one of the strongest scents I’ve smelled, like Ushiwaka levels strong—“

“I told you to never say that name again,” you suddenly snapped to which she just waved off. 

“Will you please get over that, you’re twenty fucking four now.” You clenched your jaw and pursed your lips, silently seething at your sister. “Anyways, whoever it is must have a big personality too, like I feel like his scent is giving your jacket more presence than both of ours put together— oooh what’s that!” She suddenly pointed at the bento box.

She always did have the attention span of a flee… especially when it came to food.

You looked down at the meal, “Oh, someone at work gave it to me today. You can have it if you want.” You then turned and opened your refrigerator to put it away.

”Hold up,” she grabbed your shoulder and forced you to face her again, “Someone at work? As in one of the million Alphas you work with?”

“Why do you and little sis both think I work with a million Alphas?” You rolled your eyes.

”Answer the question.”

”Yeah. It was one of them. So what? He said they were leftovers.”

”(Y/N),” she said your name seriously.

”What…?”

”That Alpha that gave you that. He’s courting you.”

You were pretty sure you stopped breathing at those words. You could practically hear the fax machine noises as you tried to comprehend the meaning of that statement.

”Bokuto-san… courting?” No. “Stop being stupid,” you hissed, slamming the refrigerator shut and stomping past her now.

He was just overly friendly with everyone. And someone like Bokuto with his big and shining personality, the kind of Alpha that made Omegas swoon when even getting a hint of whatever scent he had that your Beta nose couldn’t pick up (you’ve even witnessed it). Someone that strong and powerful would want an Omega. You’ve even heard from his teammates that he purely ran on instinct— why would his instinct tell him to court a Beta.

”I don’t know who this Bokuto is but I’m telling you he’s courting you.”

”He isn’t,” you hissed with finality. Your sister immediately straightened up. It was an underhanded trick but you realized long ago that Omegas would even listen to Betas with the right tone. “Drop the subject because you’re starting to piss me off. Alphas like him don’t like people like me alright? Now I’m going to get changed, we’re gonna watch movies together, and then I’m gonna drag your ass to take my Pilates class with me. Understood?”

There was a sour look on her face but she nodded, “… yeah, alright.” You walked upstairs, ignoring her when you overheard her muttering, “I don’t see why I need to take your dumb class with you though…”

* * * *

Part 2

[garbinge]

Duty To Protect (Pt 2)

Neville Longbottom x F!Reader (Sirius Black's Daughter) 30 Day Fic Challenge (24/30)

Word Count: 2.4k A/N: Seriously loved writing this soo much, had such a time with it <3

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angst, follows the timeline for Order of the Phoenix, mentions of violence, blood. Part 1

All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989

You laid your head on Neville’s lap as you read through the daily prophet sprawled on the bench of the train seat. 

“These have become insufferable.” You dropped it down on your lap. 

Neville looked down at you with a smile and just shook his head. Before he had a chance to respond, there were two voices at the door of your booth. 

“Look at the freaks, the dead parents club.” 

You looked up and saw the slytherin robes and corrupt eyes of the fellow 5th years that constantly made it a task to make fun of both you and Neville. 

“Freaks in love.” The other cooed and took their wands out and started to tug at your hair and move Neville’s robe. It was a childish prank, in all honestly you had way worse done to you before but it didn’t stop Neville from being annoyed. 

“Stop it, both of you!” He yelled out, his arm moving around you to hold you. 

All they did was mock him, repeating his words in voices they���d taken some candy off the trolley to alter. 

“Colloportus!” You pointed your wand towards them and the train door shut and locked along with the shades being drawn down. The handle of the sliding door jiggled as they tried to re-open it but the spell remained strong. 

“Idiots.” You mumbled and sat up to look at Neville who was visibly upset. It honestly shocked you, these were extremely mild teases and Neville tended to let most of these situations fall off his back. 

“Don’t listen to them Neville.” You moved to sit across from him so you could look him in the eyes. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” His voice was on edge. 

“It really isn’t a big deal, they do this all the time.” It seriously didn’t matter to you anymore. 

“I have a duty to protect you.” His sentence didn’t sound like him at all. Frustration was littered in his voice and it was like he failed at something. 

“Neville, what are you bloody talking about?” Now the frustration was in your voice, it wasn’t really at him, but at the situation, you wanted to know what was going on. 

Suddenly, it hit you. 

“Sirius.” You mumbled under your breath. “Tell me my father spoke to you.” With your eyes shut you asked the question, taking a deep breath as the words left your mouth. 

“Both of them.” He answered, still looking out the window. 

This made your eyes go wide. 

“Well, Sirius and Remus.” His eyes were now on you realizing he’d called Remus your father which you never did. He was your guardian, and he acted as such. It wasn’t like you hated him, not the slightest bit, but you never could find it in you to refer to him as your father, you had one. 

You didn’t really care that Neville gave the title to Remus in this instance, you were more concerned and honestly just mortified that they had both talked to him. 

“What did they say?” 

“It was nothing.” Neville was backtracking now, his voice was back to his normal worried-some tone as he realized he crossed a line he didn’t mean to. 

But that wasn’t exactly true, that’s just what he felt. To you, it was Sirius and Remus who crossed a line. 

“What did they say?” You asked the question again. 

With a sigh, Neville answered you. “That I have a duty to protect you.” 

You scoffed immediately. “I can protect myself.” You looked away and shook your head. “I’m head of my defense classes behind Hermionie, don’t they know that? Remus should know that.” You started to give reasons as to why you didn’t need men protecting you. 

“I spend all my free time reading, most books being about charms or potions and their proper uses.” Your arms were crossed as you looked around the train booth, as if you were searching for more reasons as to why you could protect yourself. 

“I fought off my boggart in one attempt! Remus knows this!” Your hands lifted now, it was tough to keep your body still. “And I spent all summer practicing defensive charms with Sirius!” 

“It’s not really about you, I don’t think.” Neville’s face was scrunched up when he spoke the words, he knew they were going to upset you. 

“Really, and what might you say is the “you” in “has a duty to protect you” is? You raised your hands into air quotes. 

“I just mean–, as your boyfriend, they wanted me to know that since I’m around a lot, I shouldn’t hurt you, or let people hurt you if I have any power in the matter.” 

“They’ve both been reading my muggle studies books too much.” You rolled your eyes, your voice coming down a bit. 

“I think they just care about you.” He was staring directly at you now. “As do I.” 

That melted you. Maybe this is what your muggle studies book meant. There really wasn’t a blueprint of love and relationships in your life, besides Remus and Tonks but that was, different. They just were and you weren’t around enough to see much of it when they started dating since it was during your first year at Hogwarts. 

Now being 16, being with Neville since the end of your third year, you created your own blueprint, but with Sirius being back, things were different, your father was home, you had to take that into consideration. 

“Anything from the trolley dears?” 

The call from the Trolley was approaching and you smiled as you leaned over and grabbed Neville’s knee with a squeeze. “You want anything?” 

Standing up you went to unlock the door and raise the shades, it had been a long enough time that the Syltherins were likely gone and in another car by now. You peaked your head out of the booth and saw the trolley a couple places down from you. 

As you turned back where Neville was sitting, he smiled and pointed his wand to the shades. “Colloportus.” 

The shades closed and so did the door and you smiled knowing it was Neville’s way of saying he wanted to make out. 

He spoke so poised, a newer trait for Neville but since both of you had spent a while together, it allowed for you to both be more confident together. 

“Yea, you.”

_______

“Haven’t you read that herbology book like 3 times already?” You asked Neville as you walked side by side back to the Gryffindor common room. 

“This is the 4th one in the series.” He lifted it up and shook it like it was obvious. As he did this his eyes looked down at what you had in your hands. 

“How did you get that, they’ve put all defensive magic books in the restricted section.” Neville frowned looking down at the book in your hands. 

“Not all.” You shrugged knowing very well you snuck in to grab it. 

He gave you a knowing look. “We just need to be learning more. With–with him back, we need to be accelerating our learning not limiting it.” 

“Do you think it’s going to be like before?” He asked now as you strolled past the main hall. “Like when our parents were dealing with it?” 

“That’s what Sirius tells me, in our letters. That it feels very…” You hated that you had to say it, what it would feel like for Neville, knowing that when this happened before his parents were tortured and then killed. “Familiar.” You dropped your head. 

The sound of Filch hammering a nail on the main hall entrance wall and hanging a sign with a paper post in it alerted both of you to look. 

“No music during study hours.” 

It was one of the lesser weighted rules that hung on the wall, but it was a change none the less. 

“Everything here is beginning to feel unfamiliar.” Neville mumbled as he stared at the brick wall. 

“Why aren’t you two in your common room?” The voice of the change around here stunned both of you, making you freeze and not want to turn around. 

Neville thought quick and extended out his hand with his wand placing it directly on the book in your hands. He mumbled something and in an instant your book transfigured into a completely different one. 

One thousand magical herbs and fungi. 

“I’m talking to you two.” The voice repeated itself with a clearing of their throat and giggle. 

You looked at Neville with caring eyes and turned around to stare at the lady in pink. 

“Come.” She demanded you both come closer to her and you both obliged. You felt like you could hear his heart thumping from nerves but you soon realized it was actually your own. “Coming from the library I see, what do we have?” She gripped the books out of Neville’s hand and rolled her eyes at the herbology theme in his arms before pushing them back into his arms. 

Her eyes fell onto you and she smiled, her way of asking for the books in your arms. 

She breezed over them and paused looking at the herbology book Neville had charmed. 

A giggle left her mouth and you were hoping it was her making fun of you both for calling an interest to plants but it wasn’t. 

“Aparecium.” She spoke to the book with her wand and it instantly changed back to what it originally was. “Roaming around the restricted section are we?” Her eyes practically were daggers to your skull.

Your eyes shut as you realized you were found out. “Detention, tonight, for you Miss–” 

Neville immediately cut her off. “It was me, I snuck in and grabbed it in an attempt to impress her.” 

Your head practically snapped off your neck as you turned to look at him. “Neville!” You said it under your breath even though no matter the volume you spoke, Umbridge would hear it. 

“Enough!” She yelled clearly upset. “Mr. Longbottom, detention, tonight.” She tucked the book under her arm and walked away like nothing happened, leaving the both of you there with a mountain of tension between you. 

“Why would you do that?” You asked as Neville began to follow the path you two were originally on before stopping. 

“It wasn’t a big deal.” 

“It was a very big deal.” You ran to catch up with him, your robe flowing in the wind as you did. 

“I’m going to go to my room for a bit, I’ll see you later.” He turned around and you completely ran into him, his arms extending out to balance you despite the books in his hand. A small smile appeared on his face as he did. It always made him smirk when you were the clumsy one. “I’ll see you later.” He repeated and placed a quick kiss to your lips and was off to the Gryffindor boys dormitory. 

It didn’t leave you feeling much better, the smirk helped but overall you were feeling very upset. You spent the next few hours in your own dormitory, catching up on homework and cleaning up. When you knew there was an hour left of detention, you started to make your way back down the castle to wait for Neville. Making use of the stairs just outside the main hall you took up post. You were reading a fiction book, just something to pass the time when you heard the doors open. Quickly you stood up and looked through the crowd that was leaving, you stepped down as you saw him. 

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you.” You were nervous in front of him which wasn’t a common occurrence. 

“You’ve been waiting here?” Neville’s eyes moved to your stuff on the steps as he adjusted his robe over his hand. 

“Yea, what are you doing?” You asked pointing to the area where his robe was looking off. 

“Nothing, come on let’s get your stuff.” He tried to move around you but you caught his hand. He hissed despite your touch being gentle. 

As you lightly touched his hand with both of yours you looked down to see the freshly scratched scars in his hand. 

“Neville!” You stage whispered. “Is this– this is what detention is?” 

He wiggled his hand out from your grip and moved closer to you. “It’s not a big deal, it’ll heal, plus I have essence of dittany drops in my room that’ll heal it all up.” 

“You knew.” It all came to you. Why he was so quick to jump in and take the blame for you earlier. 

He looked away from you, a tell sign that you were right. 

“You were protecting me.” You nodded as everything started making perfect sense. What Remus and Sirius said to him must’ve really stuck. 

“Can we just go to the common room? I’d like to just hang out, with you.” He added the with you with his typical timid Neville voice, it was Neville’s attempt at trying to change the topic and it always worked because despite it being a tactic, it was the real him. 

“Fine. But we’re sitting at a table and I’m writing to Sirius.” You moved to grab your things but Neville’s good arm reached in front of you and picked your things up. As you looked at him, the anger was still on your face from everything but it immediately dropped at the sight of him. 

“C’mon.” You smiled and rolled your eyes as you both made your way to the common room.

[rayroseu]

hm... i wish people dont wrangle and correct different interpretations of malleus too much lol

he is kind, he is evil, he is temperamental, he is eeriely calm, he is insufferable, he is a nice companion, he is forceful, he is also understanding, malleus is the mix of kindness and evil because his parents are the embodiments of those opposite sides (Meleanor being the Evil Princess and Levan being the only Kind fae who aspired peace).

There is no purely Evil Malleus or a Kind Malleus. I think Malleus is just growing up lol

Despite the story depicting him as "monstrous," (in my opinion) no character in the story encapsulates the "true experience" of growing up as well as Malleus' story does.

Of course, growing up means being fearful of aging, losing people, and everything changing without your control. It's not inspiring to know that despite your hard work in making yourself "a proper adult (and a royalty too in his case)", there is no reward such as "everlasting happiness" no matter how much he suffers. That he's damned to lose anything and nothing is forever. Growing up means you only have yourself (alone) in this world.

I also like the fact that Malleus' story growing up says one true thing: that everyone really dislikes suffering lol. Malleus canonical fear is the "unknown." I feel like beyond losing Lilia (and Yuu), he just can't imagine a world without them. For him, a world without Lilia is "an unknown world," a reality with no good outcomes. So he avoids that reality happening because its essentially his unknown, (his fear and suffering).

But idk, I never find any story that gives satisfying argument against "the importance of being hurt and losing anyone", I feel like its just sugarcoating if you say its needed for the "happiness to be worth it." That's why I understand why Malleus also believes he's correct for eliminating pain in the world lol I hope TWST gives a new unique answer to convince Malleus that its okay for him to lose anyone and be back in present time.😭🙏🏻✨

[jeankluv]

Birdie | Satoru Gojo - Chapter 01

Words: 4.8k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

Note: divider art credit _3aem (twt)

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Slow updates

Materialist | next chapter

Wattpad | ao3

While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as "hate" carried significant weight; rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.

Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

“We will divide the project in two.” You said looking at the information the teacher gave you. “So we can work on it separately and once we are done we will put it together.” You didn’t like the idea but you disliked even more the idea of spending time outside the class with him.

“That wouldn’t work out, it’s better if we schedule a time to meet and we start working on it.” Gojo talked.

“No.” You said. “I’m way too busy to think about meeting outside of classes.” And it was true, you were working in two different jobs to pay the bills of college and the tiny apartment you were staying on.

“Oh c’mon!” He pouted. “It’s impossible that you are busy every day of the week at every hour.”

“Well I am.” You were starting to get angry, couldn’t he understand you didn’t want to meet with him.

The ring rang and you thanked it, it was time to leave for another class, one you wouldn’t have to see the perfect face of Satoru Gojo.

“Wait! How do we stay in contact?” Gojo spoke when you were about to leave the classroom. You could feel the gaze of a group of girl right on your neck.

“With the email.”

“C’mon.” He said your name. “Give me your number.”

“No and now leave me. I need to get to my class.”

You walked past the group of girls that were chatting obviously about the scene that just happened.

“How can she be so rude with Satoru?”

“Yeah who does she think she is? Does she even know who Satoru is?”

“She is such a loser.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Of course, you were well aware of who he was - everyone knew him. A pampered child from a wealthy family, born into privilege and affluence, often referred to as an “old money baby”. He had everything handed to him on a silver platter - impeccable looks, tall, athletic, and intelligence. For many, he embodied the epitome of perfection. However, for you, he was nothing more than an insufferable jerk whom you couldn't stand.

On the flip side, you were the complete opposite of him. Life hadn't dealt you a fair hand - you struggled to make ends meet. When your mother passed away when you were just six, and your father vanished after hearing news of her pregnancy. Left with no one but your grandmother, you found solace in her loving care. However, as time marched on, you were once again confronted with loneliness when she passed away when you were just 16. With only a meager inheritance from your grandmother and the income from your job at a local store, you barely scraped by until the age of 18. Thankfully, your relentless dedication to your studies paid off when you earned a scholarship to attend the University of Tokyo.

Even though you got into a good college on the degree you wanted, your life in Tokyo hasn’t been quite easy. You were living in a tiny apartment, going to college and working two jobs because it would be impossible to make it to the end of the month with just one job. Luckily, the scholarship covered all my college expenses, but living in Tokyo wasn't exactly easy on the wallet. I found myself navigating life in the bustling city all on my own.

But your aversion towards Gojo Satoru began two years ago, on the first day of college. Rushing late after exhausting yourself at work, you collided with him, causing you to stumble to the ground. Prepared to offer an apology, you were met with his irate ranting, delivered without even a glance in your direction. Had you not been humiliated on the ground, you might have slapped some sense into him right then and there. Why was he so infuriated when he was clearly the one at fault? And the fact that he couldn't even look at you added insult to injury. Frustrated and embarrassed, you left before he could utter another word; you had no desire to hear anything further from him.

The true agony hit when you discovered he would be sharing classes with you. From then on, you made every effort to steer clear of him and his foolishness. However, it seemed everyone in your class, and even in other majors, adored him. The teachers showered him with praise because everything he touched turned to gold. Despite being at the university for two years, you had never managed to outperform his grades, and it infuriated you beyond measure.

For the past two years, you had been lucky enough to avoid partnering with him. However, it appeared that luck had finally abandoned you, and now you were destined to endure his company for the next three months.

You sat on the seat you would normally choose and took out the notebook to take notes of the next class.

“I heard you got assigned with Satoru Gojo in one of your classes.” You heard a voice next to you which made you jump.

“Kyoko… don’t scare me like that.” You cried while putting your hand on your chest trying to calm down. “How did you find out?”

“Well, everyone was talking about how a girl who got paired with the great Satoru Gojo was so rude to him and how she should be more grateful for this glorious opportunity.” You rolled your eyes.

“I might throw myself out of the window…” You leaned your head against the table and closed your eyes. “Three months Kyoko, three months.”

“I know…you know that you can talk to me if he does anything to bother you.”

“Thank you, you’re the best Kyoko.”

She smiled warmly at you, and together you turned your attention to the class. You had met Kyoko on the same day as your initial encounter with Gojo Satoru. Sitting together in one of the classes, an instant connection formed between you two, and from that moment onward, you were inseparable. Kyoko brought a brightness into your life like a ray of sunshine piercing through clouds. On the first Christmas when she discovered you would be spending it alone in your apartment, she whisked you away to her home, where you celebrated with her and her parents. Since then, Kyoko's parents had filled the void of the parents you had dearly missed, and Kyoko herself had become the sister you had always longed for.

The class was over before you knew it. Your hands hurt after taking notes non-stop and your head felt like it was about to explode after barely sleeping last night.

“Do you have time to eat with me? Or you have to go to the grocery store already?” Kyoko stood besides you while walking in the corridor.

“Today I can eat with you. My shift doesn’t start until 3 p.m. so it’s alright.”

Kyoko looked at you with concerned eyes. “Are you sure you are properly resting? You look tired and the grocery store job is okay, but I’m worried about you working on that bar at nights.”

You sighed, she was right the bar was an unpleasant place, most of those who went were men in their 40s or 50s who left their offices and spent the night drinking until they fell at the bar counter, while making obscene comments. But they paid well and the money was something I desperately needed.

You smiled at her. “I will be alright. Don’t worry.”

“You know you can always come to life with me, I know my parents wouldn’t bother taking you in. And if you feel like it would be too much, you could always pay something but then you could quit that crappy job and just work at the grocery store.”

“Kyoko… we already talked about it. I appreciate you and your parents' good heart and intentions but I can handle everything.” She nodded. “And I know I can always count on you.”

“Always.” And she held you from the arm. “Now let’s go and eat something. My treat.” You were about to protest when Kyoko cut you off. “No excuses, you deserve me to invite you especially because my poor best friend is going to have to put up with her least favorite person in the world for three months.”

“Ugh!” You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t remind me of that.”

Both of you laughed and made your way straight to the cafeteria, your stomachs growling with hunger. You had only managed to gulp down a coffee that morning to wake up, and now you were convinced you could devour the entire menu. Taking your usual seats at the table, Kyoko headed to order your food. The cafeteria buzzed with activity, students weaving in and out while conversations filled the air. You glanced at your phone, hoping for some notifications, but all you found were promotional emails from the supermarket.

Kyoko returned with the food, setting it down in front of you, and you delved into a conversation about Kyoko's recent date. It seemed the boy had shown a keen interest in her, but your friend hadn't felt the same way about him. Being the kind-hearted person she was, Kyoko struggled with how to gently let him know she wasn't interested in continuing to see him.

“Oh shit…” Kyoko whispered.

“What?”

“Don’t turn around but I think a certain someone is coming here.” Your eyebrow arched and you clenched your fists.

“Tell me that the certain someone doesn’t have white hair…” Kyoko grimaced and by the time you wanted to say something, the person responsible for your headache at that very moment had sat down next to you.

“Hello ladies!!” He talked with the happiest tone. He called your name but you ignored him, you didn’t want to interact with him, not even a bit. “I don’t think we know each other. I’m Satoru Gojo.” He talked to Kyoko.

“Kyoko. And we actually share a class together.”

“Oh! We do? Sorry I can’t remember it. But it is nice to meet you, Kyoko.”

“Satoru…” Another male voice spoke behind you. Your head was really going to explode.

“Oh Suguru! Come here!” He moved his hand, pointing at the seat next to Kyoko.

“Satoru… why don’t you leave the girls eating alone.” The boy of dark hair looked at his friend and then at both of you. “I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s okay, don't worry.” Kyoko smiled back at him.

“Come on Suguru! Let’s eat with them… I need to spend more time with my classmate, right birdie?” You looked at him.

“Who are you calling birdie?” You were angry, why was he giving you nicknames like you have known each other for years or like you were close.

“Oh so now you pay attention to me…” He smirked and tilted his head as he rested it on his hand and looked at you.

You snorted and pushed the plate away. “Kyoko, I have to go or I'll be late.” You said goodbye to Gojo's friend, who you assumed was called Suguru, and ignored Gojo.

“Take care.” You heard Kyoko. “And sent me a message once you arrived home from the bar!” You gave her a thumbs up and left the cafeteria.

You felt uneasy. What was Gojo Satoru playing at, giving you a nickname? And that look he just gave you—what was that about? You couldn't stand it. Sinking into your seat on the bus, you put on your headphones, seeking a brief respite before reaching your workplace. You were scheduled to work for five hours, followed by a rush to the bar, where you'd likely be working until 2 a.m., if luck was on your side.

As your eyelids grew heavy, you recognized the familiar streets passing by. With just a few stops left until your destination, you stretched out in your seat and rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the fatigue.

You got out of the bus and walked a few steps until you reached the small grocery store where you work. You still had 5 minutes left to work but between changing and preparing everything the time would arrive. You greeted Yu who was behind the counter serving a customer and went to the employee room at the back.

“You are early.” Haibara entered the room.

“I’m 5 minutes earlier… is not THAT early.” You smiled at him.

“You know you can always take the day off and rest. I can cover you if you need it, you look so tired.”

“I’m okay but thank you Haibara.”

“Okay! Then if you are taking my place I will get going. A friend of mine is waiting for me.” You nodded. “Call me if you need anything.”

You waved goodbye to him and observed as he rendezvoused with a tall blonde guy outside the store, someone you vaguely recognized from campus. Throughout the afternoon, several children trickled in to purchase trinkets, occasionally accompanied by adults picking up a few items. The day had been relatively quiet, affording you the opportunity to jot down some notes and review your studies.

As closing time approached, the sliding door chimed open once more, signaling the arrival of another customer. However, you were preoccupied assisting a lady who was meticulously counting the coins needed to pay for her purchase.

“Thank you so much darling.” She said once you were done with her. “Have a nice night.”

“Thanks to you! And please come here again.”

“Hello birdie!” Your mouth opened slightly when you saw who was waiting to be served and the last customer of the day.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You screamed angrily.

He looked down and moved the bottle he was holding. “Buying something to drink.” He smiled, showing his perfect smile.

“Here?” He nodded. “In this grocery store?” He nodded again. “Of this unknown neighborhood?” He nodded once again. “Gojo…” You touched your head, closing your eyes. “I don’t know what you want or your intentions but don’t you dare bother me anymore.”

“I already told you birdie I’m here, to buy this.” He put the bottle in front of you.

“There you have it. Now, bye.” You turned around and started cleaning some things that were around. It was time to close and you needed to hurry up to got to the bar.

You picked up and changed into the clothes you had come in. For a moment you had to lean against the wall, for an hour or so you had been dizzy and nauseous, but you couldn't allow yourself to be absent. You turned off the lights and closed the grocery store.

“What are you still doing here?” You turned around to look at Gojo who was right in front of the shop.

He walked smiling towards you. “Waiting for you.”

You rolled your eyes, couldn’t he understand you or something. “Well, I don’t want you to be waiting for me. So now… BYE!” And you started moving towards the bar.

“Oh c’mon.” He said your name this time. “Let me accompany you to your house or at least near it. It’s not good for a girl to…”

“Are you a stalker?” Gojo opened his mouth. “And I’m not going home, I need to get to work and because of you I might be late.”

“Work? But you just get out of it.” He walked next to you. “Why would you have two works…”

“Listen Gojo! Not everyone is born on a silver spoon. Some of us have to work our asses out to get the things we want.” You were tired. “You are lucky your parents probably get you everything they want for you but not everyone is that lucky.”

“You’re pale. Are you okay?” You certainly weren’t, but you couldn't afford to be, you had to go to work. “Oh shit! You might have a fever.” His hand was on your forehead, wait when did he get that close?

“Leave me…” Everything was spinning around.

“Hey!” You felt how Gojo held you, preventing you from falling to the ground, and then everything went black.

You weren't certain how long you had been unconscious, but it was certainly for a considerable amount of time. As you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself surrounded by darkness, with only a faint glow of outside light seeping into the room. Despite the dimness, you were able to swiftly recognize your surroundings. You were in Kyoko's room, but how had you ended up there? The last memory you could recall was being with Gojo before blacking out.

“Kyoko?” You whispered. You were confused and still feeling sick.

You saw how a silhouette moved to grab something from the table and then a light from the cell phone illuminated the room.

Kyoko whispered your name. “How are you feeling?”

“Still dizzy…” You touched your head. “How did I get here?”

“Satoru called me.” You looked at her confused, since when she called him Satoru and since when did she have his number. “Don’t look at me like that, when you left I stayed with him and with his friend, Suguru and they are pretty nice guys.” You rolled your eyes. “And his friend is pretty cute.”

“Kyoko…”

“What? It’s true, he was so polite and nice and did you know he studies…”

“Do you like him?”

“I mean… it’s early to say that but I would love to go out with him sometime.” Your friend smiled.

“You remember that there is a guy still waiting for an answer from you right?”

Kyoko pouted. “I know… I will let him know I’m not interested, because it’s true I’m not.”

“Good…”

“But now to what is important.” Oh here it came. “What would you have done if Satoru wasn’t there when you fainted?”

“I… it was just a coincidence. I was totally find this morning.”

Kyoko said your name heavily. “How much have you slept this week? And be honest with me.”

You thought for a moment. “5 hours…”

“That’s not bad, I thought you were going to say something like 2 hours.”

“In the last 3 days…”

Kyoko opened her mouth, letting a gasp out. “Are you insane? You want to die or something?”

“Sorry! But college and the jobs… the jobs, my shift on the bar…”

“Relax. I called them and told them you were sick after Satoru called me.” You breathed in relief. “But don’t try to change the topic. 5 hours in 3 days?! That’s inhuman and you can’t keep going like this.”

“And what do I do Kyoko?” You pulled the sheets up to your face.

“Stay here… we have a spare room, you can stay there.” You growled, Kyoko knew that was too much. Even if you were her best friend, you were still someone from outside the family. “You can pay a minimum if that will make you feel better, but if you stay here you wouldn’t have to pay the rent you are paying right now and you wouldn’t have to work at that shitty bar.”

“I… I will think about it okay…” Kyoko nodded.

“Now go back to sleep.”

“Okay…” You closed your eyes.

“And by the way.” Kyoko spoke again. “Start thinking what you are going to say to Satoru, you throw up on him.”

“I… WHAT?” Your eyes opened like plates.

“Good night~”

“No Kyoko, tell me! What do you mean I threw up on Gojo?” You cried.

“Go to sleep.”

You groaned, feeling utterly mortified at the thought of having thrown up on Gojo. This was beyond embarrassing—how were you supposed to face him and apologize for such a humiliating incident? The desire to vanish into thin air consumed you. Your head spun with the aftermath of the situation, and before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

Upon waking up again, you sensed that several hours had passed; sunlight now flooded through the window, illuminating the room entirely. Kyoko was nowhere to be seen, and you sat up in bed, stretching your stiff body. You felt utterly filthy after experiencing fever and vomiting; a shower was desperately needed.

Searching for your phone to check the time, you discovered several messages awaiting your attention—some from Kyoko and others from an unknown number.

Kyoko ☀️

Rest as much as you want. My mom left you food prepared in the kitchen but you will be alone for most of the day.

You can take my clothes if you want.

And don’t worry about the classes I will take the notes for you.

And by the way, I’m sorry and I love you 😘

Sorry? For what? You tapped on the unknown number and then you understood why she was sorry.

xxxx

Hellooooo birdie !!

Kyoko gave me your number, don’t get angry at her.

I hope you feel better soon

You clenched your fists and sighed, now you would have to endure it because of your cell phone too.

You to Kyoko ☀️

You should be grateful I love you so much and I won’t kill you.

And thanks, I will be taking a shower and do you mind if I take one of your pajamas?

Kyoko ☀️

Everything that’s mine is yours 😘

You rolled your eyes at your friend. And opened once again the chat of Gojo. How should you respond to him? Should you apologize for throwing up at him? Should you just be as cold as always? The guy was messaging you after you fainted and threw up on him, he didn’t deserve to be treated coldly although you wanted to.

You to Pain in the ass

Hi. I’m good

Thanks for yesterday and sorry for what happened…

Also stop calling me birdie, people would think we are close or something

Leaving your phone on the table, you grabbed one of Kyoko's pajamas and made your way to the bathroom. Compared to a few hours ago, you felt significantly better; the fever seemed to have subsided or at least diminished in intensity. After a refreshing shower, you changed into the pajamas and headed to the kitchen.

True to Kyoko's word, her mother had left a plate of food prepared for you. Grateful for the gesture, you sat down to enjoy the meal. Retrieving your phone once more, you noticed two notifications, which came as a surprise—they were not the usual supermarket offers.

Pain in the ass

Don’t worry about it, I’m glad to hear you are okay

*This message was deleted*

What did he send and delete after?

Pain in the ass

Since you are sick we decided to accompany Kyoko for lunch!

And there was a picture of Kyoko with Gojo and two other people, the guy from yesterday, Suguru and another girl you didn’t know about. Kyoko was smiling and doing the peace sign next to Suguru, while Gojo was the one taking the selfie and showing off his perfect teeth.

You to Pain in the ass

You better treat Kyoko right, or you will hear from me once I’m back at class.

It was hard to believe you were talking so casually with him. You shook your head, talking like that on the phone was just a way of being polite with him, nothing else.

Pain in the ass

If that way I get you to talk to me

You stayed looking at the message for a couple of minutes. Something on your stomach was moving. Stupid Satoru Gojo.

You to Pain in the ass

By the way, do I need to pay you something… for you know…

Pain in the ass

For what?

You to Pain in the ass

Don’t make me say it, it’s way too embarrassing.

Pain in the ass

If you don’t tell me what I won’t know 🤷

You to Pain in the ass

Throwing up on you!

Do I need to pay for something? Like dry cleaning or something?

Pain in the ass

Hehe

You wanted to punch him, he obviously knew.

Pain in the ass

Nop, you don’t need to pay anything. Don’t worry 😉

You to Pain in the ass

Okay, now I will leave to sleep

Don’t bother me Gojo!

Pain in the ass

Alright birdie!!

Rest well. I don’t want you throwing up and fainting in the arms of other people

You to Pain in the ass

Say something like that again and I’m blocking you

Pain in the ass

🥺

You rolled your eyes and left the phone once again. He really was a pain in the ass. You went to Kyoko’s room and lay down on her bed, although you were feeling better, you were still feeling tired, so you decided to sleep for a bit more, at least until Kyoko returned home.

You heard a door close and someone walk down the hall in silence. You knew it was Kyoko when she entered the room. She walked up to you and you smiled at her when your eyes met.

“You look better.”

“I feel better.” You say stretching on yourself. “I feel like I have slept everything I haven’t slept in a month.” You looked at Kyoko and she was doing a grimace of disgust. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Have you thought about it? About moving here?”

You did. You thought about it a lot, but you couldn't deny that you were at a point where if you continued at that pace you would end up killing yourself.

“I will.” Kyoko screamed with happiness. “But only if your parents are okay with it.”

“And they are! Don’t worry.” She started clapping and jumped out of bed with happiness. “By the way, I’m surprised you met Satoru yesterday at the grocery store.”

You looked at her strangely. “Didn't you tell her where she worked?” Kyoko shook her head.

And then it hit you, you haven't told Haibara that you would not be going to work today, he would probably be covering for you and you would have to tell him.

“Shit… Where is my phone?” You looked around.

“Who is Pain in the ass?” Kyoko hang you the phone.

“It’s Gojo…” She nodded while you searched for the number of Haibara on your phone. “Haibara!” You said when you heard him picking up. “Yeah it’s me… I’m so sorry, I’m sick and I couldn’t go today… I hope you-” Kyoko looked at you when felt silent. “What do you mean you already knew? Who told you?” Kyoko watched you with interest trying something of what was said on the other end of the phone. “Oh… okay. I will thank him then… Yeah. Bye.” And you throw the phone to the side.

“What’s with that face?”

“Gojo Satoru told my coworker I was sick.”

“That’s pretty considerate.”

“They are friends…”

“Who?”

“My coworker and Gojo, that’s why he appeared there.” You realized. “Probably Haibara told him and he came to bother.”

Kyoko called your name and you looked at her. “I don’t think he went to bother you…”

“Well… but it’s strange he went all the way to that place! Why would he go if it wasn’t to bother me?”

Your best friend sighed and closed her eyes, whispering something you could not hear and then looked back at you. “Thanks he was there. Or who knows what would have happened to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are right. And I already thanked him.”

“Oh you did?”

“Don’t act surprised when you were the one that gave him my number.”

She put her hands in the air and smiled. “Sorry. But he was really, REALLY insistent…”

“I can imagine.”

“He sent you a message right? What did he say?”

You took the phone and unlocked it to see the message that Gojo sent you.

Pain in the ass

I'll save you place next to me in class for tomorrow 🙆

What’s up with him?

“Oh…” Kyoko smiled next to you.

“What?”

“Nothing… figure it out yourself baby.” She smiled.

“Kyoko… Kyoko, what did that oh ment, come back here.” You followed her through the corridor while she laughed.

“No.” She continued laughing. “Oh!” She stopped walking and turned to look at you. “I already sent a message to the guy.”

“Finally.”

“Yeah…”

“You? Are you really going to try and go out with Gojo’s friend?”

She shrugged and smiled. The fact that Kyoko started dating Gojo's friend didn't particularly bother you, but it did mean potentially spending even more time with Gojo than you had anticipated. The mere thought made your head ache again. However, before dealing with that, you needed to figure out how to face Satoru Gojo tomorrow. It would mark the first encounter since... that incident.

Note: a comment and a like would be appreciated. Also comment to be tagged in the chapters

Tag list: @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke

[murdertrashbabyrat]

Here’s a list of romance tropes named by the tv tropes site that I think fits the Deadpool & Wolverine movie:

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

Act of True Love: an action done to prove one’s love for another

Aww Look! They Really Do Love Each Other: no matter how much they fight, they really do care about each other very much

Battle Couple: lovers who kick ass together

Belligerent Sexual Tension: two people are in love but they mask their feelings behind arguments

Birds of a Feather: a couple share similarities with each other

Can’t Live With Them Can’t Live Without Them: when you prefer to be alone but find yourself oddly attached to another

Eating the Eye Candy: eyeing up your Love Interest’s gorgeous body

Electric Love: love represented by literal sparks

Grand Romantic Gesture: a big elaborate event done for someone to show your love for them

Holding Hands: a classic romantic gesture is lovers locking hands with each other

Home Sweet Home: staying home to settle down with your Love Interest after a long adventure

I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On: unintentionally making someone fall in love with you

Imagined Innuendo: a character’s dialogue is misinterpreted as a double entendre by another

Implied Love Interest: this character has vaguely romantic subtext with the hero

Lacerating Love Language: expressing your affection through physical violence

Love at First Punch: falling in love with somebody who beat you up

Love Makes You Saner: a mentally troubled person becomes more stable because of love

Love Redeems: someone is made a better person through the power of love

Love Transcends Spacetime: when love is strong, the rules of the universe get bent

Maybe Ever After: did the hero and their love interest end up together in the end? Who knows.

Meet the In-Laws: meeting your love interest’s parents

No Accounting for Taste: There is absolutely no reason for these two to be lovers, one is or both are insufferable (it’s both of them)

Opposites Attract: they’re complete opposites but they love each other

Orbital Kiss: a couple kisses as the camera rotates around them

- (INCLUDING THIS BECAUSE I just realized the camera rotates around them as they hold hands to save the world while Madonna’s blowjob song plays. So. ORBITAL HAND HOLD because Disney would never let them actually kiss)

Race For Your Love: a character races to catch up with their love interest before they leave them

Relationship-Salvaging Disaster: bickering lovers make up with each other in the midst of a time of crisis

Rescue Romance: falling in love with someone who saves your life

Returning the Handkerchief: a classic romantic que where a character drops an item of theirs, and their love interest finds it and returns it to them

Road Trip Romance: two characters traveling together eventually fall in love

Second Love: the next person you fell in love with after your first love didn’t work out

Separated by the Wall: lovers meet up at a barricade that is separating them from each other

Sleep Cute: lovers or characters with ship tease fall asleep next to each other

The Power of Love: characters are empowered by their feelings of love they feel for each other, especially the romantic bonds with their significant others

Unbroken Vigil: a character keeps watch over their unconscious love interest