#one of those conversations that takes on an extra meaning after the revelations of the dlc

[chillicoded]

Lando Norris is NOT an underdog.

This is NOT Lando hate. I don't endorse or tolerate hate towards ANY driver. This is just an opinion.

I had a conversation with somebody on Bumble about the Norris/Verstappen championship battle this season. I was for Verstappen, he was for Norris - no problem whatsoever in itself. After Max's absolute dominance last season, I really can't blame anyone for being bored of Max winning and wanting to see a new driver succeeding. But what Got My Goat is that he said the reason he wants Lando to win the WDC is because "he's an underdog". I sent a (pretty lengthy) message back on why I really don't think Lando qualifies as an underdog, and he never got back to me to defend his position. Maybe I scared him off, or maybe he just wasn't on Bumble to debate the nuances of what it means to be an underdog. Either way, I figured the topic would make a good first opinion post because I'm more likely to get a discussion out of it here, plus I have extra thoughts to add.

To me, an underdog is somebody who is disadvantaged because of the external resources available to them, in comparison to those they are competing against. For an F1 driver, that's the car, the team, the strategy, the experience they have in F1, the track (not just condition, but whether or not it suits their car) and momentary bursts of luck, among countless other variables. A good "underdog coming out on top" narrative comes from a person or character (in this case a driver) performing well or succeeding despite lacking the ideal resources to do so.

It's important to note that I don't think skill counts as an external resource. I also think skill is hard to measure. I personally would measure it in terms of results, consistency and versatility, but even within that, I feel like you need to take all of the external factors into account. For example, DNFing or dropping way back because of a collision, bad luck with the car or a botched pit stop would make a dent in a driver's consistency and results, but it doesn't mean they're less skilled.

Underdog narratives do exist in F1. The Alpine double podium in Brazil was a great underdog narrative. The Alpine car is hardly competitive most of the time. At the start of the season it was an absolute tractor. I don't know enough about the team, strategies, pit stops, etc. to comment on those, but regardless, I don't think anyone was expecting a double podium from them this season because Alpine just hasn't been competing at the front of the field. Yet, despite all that, both drivers finished on the podium and scored mad points in easily the most unpredictable race of the season.

Franco Colapinto performing well and scoring points, despite being dumped into Williams mid-season with a firmly midfield car and no experience, is also an underdog narrative. He's far outperformed Logan Sargeant already and has been battling with some of the most experienced drivers on the grid, and coming out on top. I don't think anyone was expecting all this from him when he was first brought into F1. Personally I saw a lot of people saying that they were booting out one underprepared F2 driver, and replacing him with another underprepared F2 driver. I was part of that crowd too. Sorry Franco. I was not familiar with your game.

Even Carlos Sainz's win at Singapore last year could be considered an underdog narrative. Sure, he started on pole and he's an experienced driver, but everyone was an underdog compared to Red Bull (mainly Max) last year, and Ferrari didn't have a great car or great strategies. He did have the luck of Max being practically out of sight, having been outqualified by Liam Lawson in an AlphaTauri (another great underdog moment, by the way), but it still takes skill to keep the lead, and his strategic use of Lando goes to show that even further than just the win itself.

These are just a few recent examples. Think about them. Seriously deep them. Revel in how they make you feel.

Now think about Lando's performance this season.

His first win in Miami was great. At the time, I was still a hardcore Lando supporter and I was absolutely thrilled. A few laps before the end of the race, when it became apparent that he was almost definitely going to win, I was already celebrating for him. It had been a long time coming and it was amazing to see him realising the potential I knew he and McLaren had. He's won twice more this season so far, and both times he was ahead by a country mile at the chequered flag. Aside from that first ever win, though, his other impressive performances this year haven't quite evoked the same emotion as my previous examples. That sense that he's overcoming disadvantages and delivering even when the odds are stacked against him just isn't there for me. Why is that?

There's no denying that he's a skilled driver. Three wins in a season with 7 different race winners (6 of whom have won multiple races) isn't too bad at all. He's also been relatively consistent throughout the year, never finishing a race outside the points. He's even been able to adapt to a range of tracks and weather conditions. For example, he finished P6 after the rain and chaos of Brazil, which threw off even some of the other skilled drivers mentioned above like Sainz and Colapinto.

But we're not here to discuss whether or not he's skilled. We're here to discuss whether or not he's an underdog.

Honestly, did you even read the title?

Anyway. Skill doesn't make someone an underdog. I established that earlier. If skill makes someone an underdog, Max Verstappen is probably the underest dog on the current grid, and that's obviously not the case. We need to look into those external factors I mentioned above: things like car, strategy, luck and experience, in comparison to what other drivers have had to work with this year. The less he has, the more of an underdog it makes him.

First and foremost, McLaren's strategies this year have been pretty abysmal. The terrible calls made in instances like the Hungarian Grand Prix and the lack of calls made in instances like Monza lap one have been enough to make me stop supporting McLaren as a team altogether. They insisted that they weren't prioritising the drivers' championship, but with the constructors' practically secured, I honestly find that hard to believe. If it is true, they've been doing a disservice to both drivers: to Lando by not giving proper attention to his very real championship chances, and to Oscar by ordering him to give up positions for Lando and act as a second driver at certain points, apparently for no real reason. Overall, McLaren's strategies have been in Lando's favour at times, but they've rarely been good. It's hard for me to compare McLaren's strategy calls to other teams, though, simply because I don't know enough about other teams' strategy calls. Maybe all the teams have been equally rubbish with strategy this year, so it technically hasn't been putting Lando at a disadvantage. I wouldn't know. If you have any insight on this, let me know and I might make a second, more definitive post about this.

As for luck, Lando has had bouts of both good luck and bad luck so far this year. He had some good luck in Miami, ultimately facilitating his first win, and he had some hard luck in Austria with his collision with Verstappen and Baku with qualifying. I'm not at all suggesting that Lando didn't deserve his first win (honestly, I don't believe that "deserving" matters in this sport at all), but I don't think he would've won that first race without the luck of the safety car, and I'm not sure he would've performed as well as he has without the confidence boost from that first win. With the car he's had this season (and I'll talk about that next), it would've come eventually, but I really do think that momentary burst of luck has been a really important factor in shaping this season for Lando. It has definitely had more of an effect than his moments of poor luck. I think few other lucky instances have had as much of an effect for a team or driver, except maybe Alpine's performance in Brazil.

His car has been a seriously influential factor, too. Of course, no driver's success is all because of the car; the driver and the car always go hand in hand. A less skilled driver can't properly handle a good car (see Pérez) and even a good driver can rarely drag performance that isn't there out of a tractor (see Bottas at Sauber). But, like his luck, the MCL38 has massively facilitated Lando's ability to perform this year. It's a car that has been capable of winning races by over twenty seconds, creating final laps that are reminiscent of Max's dominance last season. That alone begs the question, why has Lando not been performing consistently at that level? Where exactly does the balance of success lie between Lando and his car?

It's definitely worth taking into consideration that top teams this year have certainly given Lando a lot of competition to deal with this year. Even with a dominant car, with around six other drivers able to put up a fight against Lando, he's not in as dominant a position as Max was last year. But there is a difference in skill in certain areas, and it shows in moments like Lando's first lap bottles from pole compared to Max's perfect starts last year, for example. Lando is just not as polished a driver as some of his competitors, and that is something that naturally comes with more experience.

It's hard to say Lando lacks experience, though. 2024 is his fifth season in F1. He's not always had a great car, but now that he does have one, it's clear to see that he knows how to handle it decently well. Compared to Oscar Piastri, though, it doesn't look like his experience is giving him the competitive edge you'd expect. With four years of experience over his teammate, you'd think Lando would be performing at a much higher level, but that just isn't the case. As a quick example, Oscar's average finishing position this season is 4.9. Lando's is only 0.8 higher at 4.1. With that difference in experience, you'd expect a much higher gap in performance... or at least I would. Maybe I'm wrong for that. Let me know.

Overall, I really don't think Lando is at any kind of serious disadvantage that would make it fair to call him an underdog. He has issues thanks to McLaren's strategic blunders, sure, but the rest of his problems are pretty much skill issues. Call me back with the notion of an "underdog narrative" when Ollie Bearman is in the championship fight in a Haas next year.

[wrenhavenriver]

I'll gather my things and go directly.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#44: The Family Gifts (1.05)

I love that they have this scene take place in a souvenir shop. 😊 Rick already turns the whole world into a gift shop when it comes to finding things to gift to Michonne so it’s only fitting that he’d find the perfect thing to get her in this place.

But what's extra special is now Rick's history of getting Michonne gifts has expanded to thinking about gifts for the son she gave him too - with RJ being the ultimate gift for them both. And seeing these two converse as parents in this scene was super heartwarming 🥰...

The scene starts with Rick knocking on the shop's door and then they open it and have the cutest little look exchange before entering the shop. It’s so subtle but I love it. 😊 They’re in such a good, peaceful, lighthearted mood and I always love those moments where it’s so clear that on top of being husband and wife, Rick and Michonne really are best friends. And yes I got all that just from a quick playful look. 😋

They enter and when Michonne walks pass those touristy license plates she taps them with her stick and keeps walking. I love that when she hits the rack Rick immediately looks over at her wondering what that’s about. He looks like if the license plates did something to her then he's gonna have beef with them too lol.

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne says, “Never did like those” and I love that Rick immediately knows why as he says, “No 'Michonnes,' huh?” Michonne says, “Not even once” and I like that in TOWL we’re even just getting these tiny insights into the characters from the world before.

I know so many with unique names could relate to this license plate moment. And 'Michonne' really is such a unique and pretty name and uncommon as Okafor noted. 'Michonne' is also Rick’s favorite word. I’m convinced. 😌 And ever since this scene, my headcanon is that Rick, RJ, and Judith definitely work together to create some type of 'Michonne' license plate and gift it to her. 

gif cred: @nerd4music

As Rick continues to look at the license plates he stops and sees one that says 'Junior.' And y’all, the second I saw the junior license plate my heart was already bursting knowing exactly where this was going.

I love that they make it a point to show that there are Rick and even Richard license plates available too but the one that catches his eye is 'Junior.' It just shows how Rick is already so proud that his son is his Junior. 🥲

And then my heart just does flips and leaps hearing Rick say RJ’s name for the first time as he so sweetly asks Michonne, “Is this a terrible gift to bring to RJ?” Y'all, I'm smiling and crying at the same time. 🫠 Like how precious is this. 😭

You just know on this road trip home Rick and Michonne have been talking a lot about their kids and I love that Rick is thinking about his son and wants to bring him a gift. Especially because, as I mentioned in an episode 4 breakdown, they have a book they're bringing to Judith so I'm sure Rick wants to make sure they have a gift for RJ too.

I knew after episode 4 we were going to be seeing Healthy & Alive Rick all through episode 5 and that was so clear in this scene. Cuz this is the real Rick right here. Being a whole father. Being his affectionate gift-giving self. I love to see it. 😌

gif cred: @kris-lulu

There’s also something so sweet about him wondering if it would be a 'bad' gift. It’s bittersweet because it’s a reminder that Rick hasn’t had a chance to know his son or what he'd like but it’s great knowing he soon will have the chance to learn it all. 

Michonne smiles and then informs Rick that “No one has ever once called him Junior.” I love that when so many of us heard that we immediately decided that this means Rick will be the only one to call RJ 'Junior' and it’ll be their father/son thing. 👌🏽

gif cred: @krislulu

Rick says, “Ah okay” and puts the license plate back, and then Michonne smiles at him clearly finding him so cute in this moment and knowing the father of her child is the best man on earth.

And then she has the warmest kindest tone as she tells Rick, “You’re bringing yourself back. That’s more than enough.” I love this so much. 😭

gif cred: @kris-lulu

It's so touching that Michonne wants Rick to know he’s the gift. The gift that’s more than enough too. 🥹 Like truly their family is going to be so much more whole with his return.

The wording of 'bringing yourself back' also always makes me think of how he’s literally coming back but also he’s been acting like himself again, so it’s like Rick is bringing his true self back rather than burying it. And that’s also more than enough.

I love that Michonne is always reminding Rick of how cherished he is. And it’s also this reminder that him being with them is the best thing he can do. Just like when she said I only feel safe with you, Rick is again getting this confirmation that his presence is as needed and valued as his protection. 👌🏽

Rick says, “The Brave Man, huh?” and I like how this shows that Rick has been thinking a lot about who he is to his kids.

This got me thinking about how when Rick decided to die he had to surrender the idea of ever seeing his wife and daughter again. He accepted that all he’d ever have is the fading memories and just the honor of having got to love and protect them at all, even if for far briefer a time than he’d hoped. So now, it has to be pretty surreal for him to know he really will be back with them and with the son he wanted but didn't know he had.

gif cred: @nat111love

And if he’s at all worried if he’ll live up to his kids' expectations of him being The Brave Man, Michonne so wonderfully quells those doubts when she again so sweetly and sincerely says, “You are. More than ever.” 🥹🥹🥹

I know I’ve said it 1000 times but I adore the way Michonne believes in and uplifts Rick and this line right here might be my favorite example of that.

gif cred: @nat111love

I love how Michonne can always sense Rick's subtext and underlying feelings and then address them in the perfect way. Because she can sense that Rick is nervous about meeting his son for the first time and maybe worried about how it’ll go just showing up in his life after all these years. But Michonne saying this is reminding Rick that by choosing to come home, especially when he had been so convinced prior that he couldn’t and shouldn’t, is a brave thing and very commendable and he really is the great man his kids think he is.

It’s so precious too that Rick gets to see that it’s not just his kids but his wife who truly views him as The Brave Man. Like even tho Rick said last ep that he’s not the brave man, Michonne wants him to know their babies got it right with that title. 💯

And by pushing through all the fear that was keeping him chained to the CRM, Michonne thinks he’s the bravest he’s ever been for doing that. 🥹 I appreciate how Michonne and Rick find so many ways to say 'I love you' even without saying the three words directly. And this was 100% that. They really breathe life into each other with every encouraging word and gesture.

gif cred: @nat111love

As Michonne turns around we get even more adorableness as Rick spots a name bracelet and thinks what he thinks when he sees most any item, “this could be turned into a gift for Michonne.”

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

So being cute and sneaky trying to not get caught with the jewelry since he wants to surprise her with it later, he grabs the 'Michelle' bracelet and breaks it so that it becomes an M bracelet.

gif cred: @nat111love

Can my extra self break down all the reasons I adore this real quick? 😋

One; I absolutely love that because Rick notes every detail of Michonne he knows she’s missing her signature M necklace and so, as he’s always been so good at doing, he finds a way to essentially replace the one she lost.

Two; I love that Rick said if this place doesn’t have ‘michonne’ gifts he’ll find a way to make one.

Three; Something about him making the M bracelet on his prosthetic felt symbolic to me. He literally lost that hand because he’d choose being with Michonne over his own limbs. And now after doing everything he could to be with her, he has her and is still finding ways to give her every good thing he can.

Four; if I'm not mistaken, I believe it was said by Danai that the initial M necklace was from Michonne's mom and so I love that Michonne’s two M pieces of jewelry came from two of the people that love her most. 🥲

Five; After all those years of Michonne wearing that wedding ring with her necklace, I love that her husband is now with her and getting her new jewelry…and he’ll also be giving her some even more meaningful jewelry by the end of the ep. Amen. 😏

Six; It’s just so romantic and thoughtful. It’s so Rick to do this. And I love all these heartfelt gestures that add to Richonne’s epic love story. 

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

Rick pockets the bracelet, waiting for the right moment to gift his wife. Michonne then says, “He might be ready for this” as Rick turns around and sees Michonne holding a hatchet, similar to one of Rick's signature weapons in TWD. I adore that she saw that weapon and was like this would be a good fitting gift for Rick’s mini-me. 😋

And then something I always appreciate so much is hearing Rick ask, “Is that who he is?” I think it’s so sweet and such a sign of what a good dad Rick is. Of course, he’d be flattered if his son followed in his footsteps but the question shows that he also wants to know who RJ is regardless of him. You just know he’s prepared to love RJ whether he’s like him or not and I just love that he wants to know all about what RJ is like. 

And then it’s great that Michonne gets to tell him just how much she meant it when she said their kids are some Richonne kids when she says, “Judith has a sword. They’re us.” Hearing her say their kids are her and Rick never fails to elate me. 🥰 It’s such a true statement.

I love imagining that now that they’ve reunited Rick has got to see firsthand that Judith doesn’t only have a sword, she’s a whole pro with the sword just like her mom. 😌

I love how proud Michonne is of her kids. She raised them to be survivors while still giving them a childhood. And seeing Rick and Michonne talk as RJ and Judith’s parents in this scene was everything. The best mom and dad. 💛

But they’re also the best husband and wife and I love how that got to take center stage in TOWL.

So after this lovely parents moment, Rick is back to reminding us why he’s Husband of the Year ever year when he spots the absolute perfect minty fresh gift to give his wife.

And y’all, I gotta do a part two because this next part has Rick saying one of my favorite things of all time and it needs its own post. 😇

But as for this moment, Rick and Michonne are such a gift to each other. And their kids are such a gift to them. And this scene is such a gift to me. 🥰 And honey, because we’re spoiled rotten with this miniseries, this gift of a scene just keeps on giving with what comes next. 👌🏽😌

[warren-keplers-funk-band]

kind of insane about buck's couch and the whole metaphor surrounding it

because as i said a few days ago in the first episode of season six eddie equates buck's couch to his love life: 'the last two couches came with girlfriends', right? because taylor replaced buck's original couch with hers when she moved in, which could represent how she took over buck's life, and then took it with her when she moved out, leaving buck lonely and missing something and yearning to fill that hole. because if there's one thing we know about buck, especially this season, is that he wants a family. he wants to be loved. he wants to be needed. the couch represents that need.

and then during this domestic conversation with eddie and chris, buck expresses a concern about 'picking the right couch this time'. which clearly means he's going forward a lot more cautiously, looking for a serious relationship.

i think it's important to note that eddie and buck are around each other a lot in the beginning of this season. in subtle, domestic ways.

because, and i don't remember who he's talking to, i think it's either buck or eddie, bobby says something this season that i think is very prevalent to their relationship. take stock of what you have in life. appreciate what you already have. buck and eddie already have each other in every respect, they just don't realise it. buck especially doesn't realise it.

then buck has his little revelation and decides not to replace the couch. sticks to the armchair. thinks, i don't need anyone. i don't need to fill that yearning.

except it follows him. family. children. the biggest motif in season six is parenthood. and it's all buck wants. so after the lightning strike when his mother offers to buy him a couch, he's content. for a while. because he's filling some of those holes with familial love that he was always starved of. (let's not get into buck's parents and over-compensating for when he gets hurt i'm not ready for that conversation)

don't even TALK to me about buck going over to eddie's when he's sick of the company, because eddie doesn't count. he's not a guest in their home. he falls asleep on eddie's couch. something something things that they already have. a home that he already has. a yearning that could be filled if he just opened his eyes.

i think it's VERY IMPORTANT that kameron gives birth on buck's couch. has buck's biological kid that he is forced to give away. stains his couch. irreparably. he has to throw it out, the couch that his mother got him, just as he has to give away the baby.

now, buck suggesting he and natalia go couch shopping could be interpreted as this being a serious relationship. that buck is committing. taking that leap. picking the 'right couch'.

i do not see it that way.

i see that buck is shaken, he just got something that was important to him ripped away from him, tearing that hole wide open again. and this time it's extra painful because it's not a girlfriend, it's a child. i will maintain to my dying day that a child is all buck wants (and again, already has!! in chris!). this is shown over and over with how good he is with kids, with jee, how he's a schoolteacher in his dream, how he buys kameron and connor's kid that firefighter onesie. this is important to him, emotional, so he's left bereft. natalia is... there. buck recedes back into himself, back into old habits, and starts grasping. clinging onto someone, anyone. natalia was just there.

i think this will be very important in season seven especially considering the revelation buck had in his coma dream. that he is important. he is worthwhile. he has had a positive impact on everyone's lives. part of his character development now, as he learns to navigate this new confidence, should be that he learns to take what he wants. learns to let himself be happy. learns not to settle for less than he deserves.

i don't think he and natalia have that level of chemistry. i think this will be a harmful relationship for him, but ultimately a healing, learning experience.

so, my endgame for season seven!!! my ideal scenario, involving this very clearly thought out couch metaphor... is buck realising he doesn't need a new couch. realising that he's grasping for something he already has. a partner, a kid, a family. that he already has a couch. eddie's couch. and so he moves in with them and LETS HIMSELF BE HAPPY GODDAMIT-

[lonelychicagos]

the 1

Part of a Hotchniss one-shot series based on Taylor Swift's album, folklore. Can be found here: breathe again

The moment his name fell from her lips, Emily knew she made a big mistake. Six pairs of eyes turned to her, including his own, and she had to take another sip of her margarita to keep her from adding another comment that will ruin both of their reputations in the BAU.

Emily could blame it on Penelope. After all, it was her question that started it. "If you weren't dating anyone, who would you be dating from the BAU?" The technical analyst pointed a painted fingernail at her, whisking everyone to turn to her as well.

"Hotch," she said without a doubt. Emily could also very well blame it on the margarita concoction she'd been drinking all night, but she really wasn't that drunk for her to make baseless accusations on a lifeless, harmless drink.

At that second, everyone turns to her.

Then, to him.

He sported the usual Hotch glare, but this time, there was this intensity in his eyes only reserved for unsubs, Strauss, and apparently, her. Emily had been a part of their team for almost two years now and he still treats her like a stranger. Sure, they covered each other on the field and treated each other with the utmost respect in conference rooms, but once the clock hits 5, whatever warmth Hotch extended turns icy cold.

Not a single word escaped any of their quick and witty mouths for what seemed hours—not Rossi, not JJ, and certainly not Penelope. Thankfully, Morgan cleared his throat and attempted to make a joke. "You wound me, princess."

Penelope chirped this time, taking over the deadly silence that fell over their table. "So, why bossman?"

Knowing that deflecting is not an option, Emily answered. "Just because...and we already knew each other way back. Less time getting to know someone new."

"What do you mean way back?" JJ's eyes glinted mischievously and with genuine interest.

Now, how could she explain the mess they were once in? She could make up a lie or water down the truth, but Emily was far too drunk to come up with a believable alibi that Hotch would agree on as well. After everything she put him through, she can't bind him to another lie.

"I worked for the ambassador before I started in the FBI," Aaron said.

He made it sound so trivial, so minuscule, that Emily felt a pang of anger with the way he said it. He made it sound like he didn't spend weeks on her bed, tracing those three words on her naked back as he waited for her to sleep before making his escape. He made it sound like he didn't almost jeopardize his entire career because he got caught sneaking outside her bedroom after she had a bad day. He made it sound like he didn't make her wait for months to visit her in Connecticut, only for him to send an email that he's getting married in August.

Emily Prentiss may be a liar, but Aaron Hotchner is a fucking coward.

"How come we never found out about that?" Rossi asked as he poured scotch into his glass.

Hotch shrugged as he downed another glass. "It never came up," he dismissively answered.

Most of them let it go, Morgan and Penelope already heading their way to the dance floor as 'their' song plays on the speakers. Rossi took to Reid, engaging the young man in a conversation about his latest book. JJ, on the other hand, gave Emily a long look that said, 'We'll table this discussion for next time.' Emily didn't even think to glance at her unit chief. She simply wasn't interested.

The dark-haired agent excused herself and grabbed the empty coupe glass as she headed toward the bar to get a refill. Sipping cocktails all night was not exactly the brightest idea she's had in days, but they have a four-day weekend, and recent revelations deserved an extra glass or two in her system.

"Sorry about that," Emily quipped as she felt Hotch sit on the empty stool beside her. She planned on running away, or at the very least, giving him a cold shoulder, but guilt overcame her. After all, it was her answer that opened a hidden chest of buried histories and emotions from them.

When he didn't say anything, she continued. "My brain's a bit foggy now." Perhaps if Emily blamed it on the alcohol, she could get away with the consequences. She doubts it.

"Obviously," he said. Just then, the bartender returned with the margarita she ordered. But before Emily could even grab the glass, Hotch already cut her off. He called the bartender's attention again, ordering a glass of whatever non-alcoholic concoction for her.

Emily pouted. "I was still drinking that."

"You're drunk," Hotch stated. Drunk, but apparently not drunk enough for her not to hate him.

"Whatever," she muttered in defeat.

"Garcia will ask questions," Hotch turned to look at her, then to the pair of dancing FBI employees on the dance floor.

Emily nodded. "And JJ. And Reid. And Morgan."

"And Rossi," he continued.

"And Rossi."

"I'm surprised they didn't dig up my background the moment I stepped into your office two years ago," Emily mused.

"My name doesn't exactly show up on your resume." The unit chief quipped.

"Wouldn't it be funny, though? Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner's fuck buddy," she flashed a smile as he grimaced at her response. "I think that's what they call it now. Lover seemed to be a bit too intimate for what we had."

They both knew she was wrong; that in so many ways, they were more like lovers than anything else. She loved him so much, it left her breathless. Not in a way that left her in awe of him, but in a way that what she felt for him constricted her airways and punctured her lungs. It was thorny, but it was good.

"I think I really am drunk now, sorry," Emily apologized, her head hanging low and her eyes fixed on the glass of club soda Hotch ordered for her.

"It's uh, fine."

A beat passed. No one spoke a word.

"You can leave now if I'm making you uncomfortable," she offered. After all, it wouldn't be the first time she made him uneasy. She could still remember how his eyes glazed over the moment she stepped foot in his office years ago. He unwillingly and uneasily welcomed her to the team. The air between them hasn't changed much, and she doubts a loud nightclub and alcohol will.

He nods, offering her a silent farewell, but she was quicker than him. Without much thought, Emily grabbed his arm, "No, wait. Let me ask you a question first."

"Maybe we should table this discussion for another day."

She shook her head. "I know you and I know me. we won't ever talk about this again, so just humor me while it's out in the open."

"Okay."

Emily didn't even know what she'd ask him. Scratch that. Of course, she knew what she'd ask him. It's been making a home at the back of her mind for almost a decade now. Deciding that this might be her only chance at asking him, she decided to go for the jugular. After all, she wasn't known for being subtle. "If things were different back then, would you have pursued me?"

"I love my wife and I love my son—"

Emily seethed, "Not relevant to my question, Aaron." She could hear the gears running inside his head—cranking, screeching, scratching to look for a viable answer that won't end up hurting Emily or Haley or him.

It took him a few good seconds before answering, "If things were different back then, you know I would have."

But she didn't know. How could she have known? Here's what she knew, then:

Emily was the summer fling, and their time together would soon be forgotten as soon as she steps on the plane en route to Connecticut, but;

Aaron loved her and promised to visit her, but;

Aaron broke said promise and instead of surprising her with his presence and bouquet of flowers, he surprised her with a short email announcing his upcoming wedding to his high school sweetheart, Haley Brooks.

There was no way she could have known, but she didn't want to dwell on the thought tonight. Tomorrow, maybe, when she's sober enough to process his answer. Another week, perhaps, when she's alone in her apartment and the ceiling starts to become an interesting work of art. A month from now, probably, when her birthday rolls by and she adds another year to her age, and it hits her how it could have been her waking up next to him every day.

She doesn't love him anymore and she could breathe more freely now, but sometimes, she yearns for him.

"Okay. That's enough for me." She let him go then, not even noticing that she had her palm on his arm the entire time.

He nods, again. "Will you be okay out here?"

She almost shakes her head no, but decides against it. "Yeah. Thanks for the talk."

Emily watched as his tall frame disappeared in the crowd, unknowingly taking her heart again, with him. Perhaps, another time.

[infinitesuckuyome]

What kind of Genjutsu would the Uchiha men put their S/O into?

Requested Prompt from @passionateuchiha​

This is the first request I’ve ever done so bear with me. Also, today’s focus will be on Obito Uchiha bc he’s best boy & I play favorites

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact:

◉ As a genjutsu user, Obito is extremely proficient. He was personally trained by Madara Uchiha, so even though Obito was a bit of a late bloomer, he’s a quick study and becomes incredibly powerful over the course of his life.

◉ A few instances of his proficiency: 

At 16 Obito summons and controls the 9 tails, making it wreak havoc in Konoha.

At 22 Obito places Yagura Karatachi, 4th Mizukage & perfect Jinchuriki under his control, making Obito the de facto Mizukage at the time. It was previously thought that Jinchuriki were immune to genjutsu so the fact that Obito was able to brainwash Yagura for years is basically unheard of.

At 31 Obito uses Izanagi to literally reshape reality to survive Konan’s 600 billion paper bomb attack then compels her to reveal the location of Nagato’s Rinnegan. It’s safe to say that Konan would never have willingly revealed that information so, Obito’s ability to extract the truth is pretty much S tier.

◉ The Sharingan’s base abilities grant the user powers of hypnosis which include putting people to sleep, replaying memories, and creating illusions. Obito’s mastery of the Sharingan far exceed these base capabilities, meaning he’s a force to be reckoned with. Not even his precious darling would be able to escape his hypnotic gaze~  

There were very few things left in this life that Obito looked forward to, being able to see you was one of those last remaining things. Playing the idiot was annoying and inconvenient but for some reason, you never seemed deterred by his obnoxious antics or childish façade. You were a brilliant ray of sunshine, warming his frozen guarded heart with only your smiles and kind words, which did more for him than you’d ever know. He tried to make the most of the sparse moments he had with you; every touch, charged glance and bit of conversation embedded itself into his mind. He lived for these rare occasions, letting everything fall away as he hung on your every word, reveling in any affection you offered. There was a longing deep within Obito that wanted you to know the truth, to see him, not the person he had to pretend to be.

At first he thought it would be enough to merely take on the role of your protector, silently watching over you from the shadows as you made your way to and from work, fixing any locks or windows that happened to be damaged in your home & on occasion he’d even leave extra money around for you to find. The more he watched you, the more he came to realize that what he truly wanted was to be the reason for your happiness, a person you relied on for all your needs... all of your desires. As his missions became longer and increasingly demanding, Obito’s anxiety about your well-being also grew. He couldn't stand to be away from you, unsure if you were safe and healthy. What if something happened to you while he was away- what if you needed his help and he was a minute or even a second too late? These were the thoughts that kept him up at night, fidgeting and pacing as he went back & forth in his mind about what to do.

You were simply too good for this callous world; he knew that if he did nothing, eventually it would snuff out even your brilliant light, so he decided to safeguard it himself. With him you’d be safe, if anything, he was the only one who could truly protect you and when he succeeded in creating the perfect world, you’d be the first to bear witness to it. 

◒ Obito is a total Yandere~ He’s lovestruck, overprotective, obsessive, possessive, self-sacrificing and definitely not afraid to get his hands dirty if anything happens to his darling - ya know, like when he went on a rampage after Rin died and singlehandedly massacred dozens of mist village ninja. 

◒ Without a doubt, the type of Yandere to kidnap you- this is the first instance he’d use genjutsu on you. He’d put you into a deep tranquil sleep then whisk you away to the Akatsuki base or into his own Kamui dimension.

◒ He’d make sure to fill your mind with calming thoughts to help you “adjust to your new surroundings”. 

◒ During combat, Genjutsu is mostly used to create false images that trick the mind into thinking the body is experiencing pain- though Obito has no reservations about doing this to others, he has better things he’d want projected into your mind. He’d much rather use this tactic to enhance your pleasure during intimate moments. 

◒ He’d use his visual prowess to convince you of his love. Literally taking your face into his hands, telling you that he loves you, will protect you and that you’re safe with him. Obito would never tire of telling you these things, until he was sure they registered in your mind, reaching the center of your being. 

◒ As an expert in extracting information, Obito can get the truth from even the most adverse foe. Compelling his darling to tell him the truth would be a simple feat- he doesn’t want you to sugar coat anything or be afraid to speak your mind so he’d do this with the intent of knowing what was really in your heart of hearts.

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Oral Sex, Yandere Behavior

“You lied to me! And brought me here...” You gestured vaguely around yourself, unsure of where “here” actually was- not holding onto much hope that you’d be getting that answer anytime soon. You grabbed at a fluffy looking pillow, hugging it to your chest for comfort as you grudgingly sat down on the large tidy bed in the center of the room.

“Please hear me out, Y/N- I can explain.” He could easily take all this anger from you, transforming it into soothing thoughts that left you with a light heart, but deep down, he knew that he deserved your fury. Obito felt that your anger was yours to wield as you pleased, even when directed towards him. 

“You couldn’t even be bothered to tell me your real name!” You shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. “I t-thought you cared about me...is there anything you haven't lied about?!”

“I never lied about how I feel about you” He replied quickly. “I know I haven’t been honest, but I swear I’ll never lie or keep anything from you again, I...I love you, Y/N!”

“How am I supposed to believe that- why should I believe anything you say?” Tears welled up in your eyes, a few weeks ago you would’ve believed him... you would’ve welcomed his confession but now- you weren’t sure what to think. 

Obito clenched his fists at his side, heart aching from how desperately he wanted you too see the love he carried for you. “My feelings for you are real! I’ll prove it to you, I’ll do whatever it takes just...please give me a chance.”

A whirlwind of conflicting emotions ran through you, it was hard to tell which was the most prevalent. Anger and frustration were at the forefront, but there was also a part of you that wanted to reach out to him- this was the first time the two of you had been alone... it was such a shame that it had to happen like this. “Gods! I’m so mad, I could hit you.” you spat bitterly. 

“I know & I won’t stop you. Give me all of your anger, use me as you see fit, Y/N- you can do what you’d like.” Obito’s visible eye gave off a subtle red glow as he spoke. Though it pained him to keep his distance, he didn’t want to upset you any further, and most of all he didn’t want you to be scared of him. 

You shook your head, momentarily losing your train of thought, his words slowly making their way into your mind. “It’s just a figure of speech- I’m not actually going to hit you.. but if I'm being honest, you do deserve a good slap to the face.” You huffed, wiping away a few stray tears. “Besides, you said I could do what I wanted right? Well then I want to go home, right now.”

“Anything besides that- please understand Y/N, I brought you here to tell you the truth but once I do, you won’t be safe on your own. I can keep you safe here, I’ll protect you no matter what.” Obito’s head dipped in defeat- he could handle your anger, but he couldn't bear the thought of being away from you, not for one second more so, he stood firm in his decision. 

You scoffed at his response, feeling mildly insulted that he thought you were so helpless. “You know what, maybe I will slap you... a-and take off that damn mask so I can do it properly.” You cast a sideways glance at him, awaiting his response. As frustrated with him as you were, you couldn’t help but wonder what he was hiding beneath that thing. After all the secrecy and lies, you wondered if he’d finally share this part of himself. 

“My mask?” Obito repeated, bringing a gloved hand to touch it, almost as if he’d forgotten it was on.

“Let me guess, anything besides that?” You quipped, irritation flaring. 

“Not at all, if you want me to take it off, then I will.” He replied, walking towards you. “There shouldn’t be any other secrets between us, My Darling. I’ll do whatever you ask to ensure you stay by my side.”

Before you could say another word, he swiftly removed the mask. You were speechless- heat rising to your face upon seeing his. 

“Go ahead” Obito said calmly, kneeling in front of you. “I’d welcome any touch, as long as it came from you.”

You raised a shaky hand, bringing it down on his cheek with a feather light smack. “I guess I don’t really want to slap you- but that doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you... Obito.” You left your hand on his cheek, stroking the skin beneath it with the pad of your thumb.

Obito sucked in a quick breath, that was the first time you’d said his name & he loved the way it sounded on your tongue. He placed his hand over yours, leaning into your touch. “I-is there anything else you want me to take off?”

You looked away, unsure if you should say what was going through your mind. 

“You can be honest, tell me what you want, and I’ll do it, Y/N.” Obito’s eyes bore into yours, the tomoe in his iris spun, causing your vision to become unfocused for a split second. You nodded as your inhibitions fell away, “Your cloak- isn’t it too hot to be wearing something like that anyway?”

“I guess you’re right” Obito agreed, flashing you a nervous smile.

You unconsciously twirled a lock of hair around your finger, eyes roaming over his frame as he removed the bulky cloud covered cloak. “This too” you pulled at the end of the tight black shirt he wore. 

Obito’s eyes widened slightly, cheeks warming as he realized you wanted him to keep undressing. He quickly pulled the shirt over his head, casting it aside to await your next command.

You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent your lips from twitching up at the corners- reminding yourself that you were supposed to be mad right now. Though your expression remained mostly neutral, your eyes kept finding their way back to ogle him. You made a small noise of frustration- trying to get angry, upset, frightened even, but desire crowded every other emotion out of your mind.

“I can put it back on if you’re uncomfortable” Obito tried, not knowing what to make of your sudden silence. 

You didn’t respond, instead patting the spot next to you. Obito perked up instantly, taking the hint to sit beside you. “I’m still upset... but you should kiss me now b-before I change my mind.” 

The second those words left your mouth, Obito pulled you into his lap, kissing you with such need it nearly took your breath away. Your lips were so soft, softer than he’d ever imagined- he licked and sucked at them, heart thumping wildly in his chest. 

You parted your lips, deepening the kiss as your hands came up to tug at his hair, earning you a needy moan from Obito. “Touch me more” you whispered as you rolled your hips against his hardening length. 

He groaned at your words, hands coming down to knead at the plush flesh of your ass- thrusting his hips up to meet yours. His eyes rolled back at having you pressed up against him, head spinning at the sensation. “Fuck, Y/N you feel so good like this; I want to make you feel good too please, please tell me what to do” Obito babbled, pupils blown wide with need. 

You bit your lip, eyebrows drawing together as heat rushed down to your core. There was something so arousing about the pleading edge to his tone, like there was nothing more important to him than pleasing you. “Ya know... it’s really cute when you beg me like that, do it again.” you purred, raking your nails though his hair. 

Obito’s head dipped back in delight, cock twitching in his pants. “Please Y/N, tell me what you want- anything you want.” his crimson eyes held your gaze, never wavering. 

Your back arched reflexively, that alluring glow lulling you deeper into a euphoric haze. “Use your mouth to make me cum”

“Lay back Y/N” Obito rasped, mouth watering at the thought of getting to taste you. He watched as you shimmied out of your panties, swiftly flinging the dress you’d been wearing up & over your head. This was without a doubt, Obito’s new favorite memory, he paused for a moment to properly appreciate the sight of your bare body before him. 

“Are you just going to stand there staring at me or are you going to put that lying mouth of yours to use?” You teased, giggling at the pout he made.  

“Sorry... I won’t make you wait any longer” he husked, using his teeth to remove the glove from his hand before kneeling between your legs. Your warmth and scent drew him in like a moth to a flame- unable to hold himself back any longer Obito eagerly dove in, fervently licking at your glistening entrance. He moaned at your taste; flattening his tongue, he nudged it between your lips to open you up, dragging it from your entrance up to your clit. Sealing his lips over your little nub, he sucked at it harshly- rhythmically pulling it in & out of his mouth. 

“Ah aah- Obito!” you whined wantonly.

“Say it again, fuck- please say it again!” Obito murmured against you. You cried out his name, hand finding its way into his hair- pulling at the ebony strands as your hips ground against him.

He hooked your legs over his shoulders, holding you in place to lave over your clit, swirling his tongue around the shape of it. Obito was nearly frantic in the hungry way he lapped at your pussy, hips rutting aimlessly against the mattress. 

You twisted & turned your head, heat rapidly pooling in your core as your brain receded into a scarlet fog, hardly able to think straight. Behind the darkness of your eyelids, spinning commas and flashes of red propelled you forward, into an abyss of blinding pleasure. You came with a scream-like moan, writhing as Obito held you firmly in place, greedily drinking you in, like a man dying of thirst. 

You twitched with over sensitivity, keening out breathlessly while he continued to roll his tongue over your little bundle of nerves. “Too much... it’s too mu- aah!” You mewled, cunt fluttering as he plunged his tongue into your scorching heat. 

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to keep going...” he groaned, looking up at you with pure adoration. 

“Uh-huh, ‘m wanna play with your cock now, so take those off” you said, gesturing at his pants. 

Obito nodded happily, making quick work of ridding himself of any remaining clothing. 

“Now you lay back” you cooed, eyeing the heavy way his length slapped against his stomach as you knelt in front of him. You ran your thumb over the slick surface of his cockhead, tracing every dip & curve until it shone prettily with his arousal. 

“So cute” you praised, smearing that arousal across your bottom lip. Obito whined, hips twitching forward while his dick throbbed against you. “Promise you’ll be a good boy for me?”

Obito propped himself up on his elbows, eyes gleaming vibrantly. “I promise Y/N, I’ll be good- I’ll be so so good!” The sweet heat of your mouth made him want to unravel at the seams; the teasing way your tongue worked his length drove him absolutely wild, the etheric sight of your rosy cheeks & bobbing head, even more so. His head subtly swayed back and forth, in time with the slurps and sucks of your pillowy lips.

An animalistic growl rumbled in Obito’s chest, everything you did filled him with such carnal lust that it was almost overwhelming... he wanted to share it with you, to show you how deeply you affected him. Placing a hand on your head, he tugged gently at your hair, not wanting to harm a single precious strand, “Look at me Y/N.”

Your eyes fluttered open, dreamily drifting up to his waiting gaze; vision blurring around the edges, peripherals darkening until only he was in focus. A stifling wave of arousal crashed over you, making you waver slightly, hands coming up to clutch at his muscular thighs for support. 

“Do you feel what you do to me?” he grunted, languidly bucking his hips, admiring the sinful way your reddened lips stretched around his girth. “See yourself through my eyes, Y/N.” he husked, projecting the image and mirrored sensations of your actions directly into your mind. 

Obito’s voice echoed all around you, bouncing around the inside of your head, everything falling away into oblivion. You were looking up at him, yet you could also see yourself- “Mmph!” you cried as another dizzying wave of passion hit you. Hallowing your cheeks, you instinctively took him deeper into your mouth; something between a gasp & moan falling past your lips, sending shocks of bliss throughout Obito, which you felt in tandem. A furious blush painted your face at the phantom pleasure being sent to your core, making you so delirious that you tongue lolled out as your quickened your pace.  

Placing a hand over the one Obito had on your head, you pushed down a few times, hoping he’d understand your silent plea. “Does My Darling want more?” he asked in a low whisper. You whined, nodding your head as he gathered your hair into a makeshift pony tail, guiding you up and down his length causing drool to run down the corners of your mouth. 

“Aww f-fuck, mhmm” Obito’s head dipped back, drowning in the pleasure you’d so graciously offered him, dragging you down with him as he fell further & further into a bottomless euphoria. Your head swam with a flurry of images and sounds that swirled all around you. Do you feel what you do to me? When he’d first spoken those words, you weren’t sure what he’d meant- too distracted by the fog of lust that hung over you... now though, you felt him. You could sense the intensity that resided within Obito; it was palpable & scalding, like a raging wildfire that consumed everything in its path- you could feel how deeply he craved you, adored you, needed you.

“Y/N! You’re go-gonna make me cum, p-please can I cum?” he stuttered between moans. You nodded enthusiastically, feeling that same tight coil building in your lower abdomen which had you very nearly seeing stars. Your moans mingled together, essence running down your trembling thighs as his release shot down your waiting throat. 

Obito hauled you onto the bed, cradling you against him while you both caught your breath- showering you in praises and thank yous. You sighed in content, slowly coming down from your high, absentmindedly tracing the scars covering the left side of his body, “Is this why you always cover yourself up so much?”

“Not exactly, that’s a long story... one that I will share with you & only you.” He said, kissing your hand. 

You smiled to yourself, knowing that he meant it. “Obito..”

“Yes, My Darling? he lifted his head, giving you his full attention.

“I think someone owes me an apology.” you shot him a pointed look. 

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I truly am.” he said immediately. 

You tutted, putting a finger up to his lips, silencing him. “No, no. I want an apology from Tobi- and no hiding behind the mask this time.”

“Y/N please...” Obito’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment.

“Fine, I guess you really were lying when you said you’d do whatever I asked” you remarked slyly. 

Obito sighed, burying his face in your neck, giving himself a moment. “Please forgive Tobi, Y/N-Chan! Tobi will be a good boy from now on, promise!”

You erupted into a fit of giggles. Obito whined, hiding his face as he hugged you tighter against him. “Are you satisfied?” he grumbled.

“For now...” you hummed, petting his dark locks. 

[hotwings0203]

Guys I’m having another Bakugo brainrot

Tw: bullying, noncon, nonconsensual peeping, manipulation

Remember that one episode of MHA where the class goes to the sauna and M*neta tries to check da girls out over the wall?

Imagine the same scenario, but years later when they’re all older

The class wanted a reunion, just to relax and blow off some steam

You’re with the girls, and you all lay back in the hot water reminiscing about the older days when everyone was still getting the hang of their own quirks

Mina brings up this exact same scene but years ago.

“Ohmigosh, do you guys remember the last time we came in our first year here and Mineta totally tried to get a peek at us?”

“Ugh, I hope Iida is keeping a good hold on him right now,” Ochacko giggles, kicking her feet up to rest on a rock

You hum in agreement, tilting your head back to rest against the wooden wall separating you and the boys.

As it was, Uraraka was almost spot on with her hopes. Except, Iida and Tokoyami were out getting refreshments for the rest of the boys, leaving the remaining group to their own plot.

Which was lead by Mineta, of course, who had the brilliant idea to spy on the girls, just like they almost did years back.

“Guys, come on, please they’re right there!” He practically salivates, wildly gesturing to the tall wooden wall in front of them.

Most of them shift uncomfortably and groan about him being a creep as usual, but the rest stay silent.

Mineta takes their lack of outright refusal as fuel to keep blabbering.

“Look, we almost got away with it back then-“

“-You mean you got away with it, we didn’t do shit. And you didn’t exactly get off scot-free, Kota completely demolished your attempts and you landed ass down on Four-Eyes’ face,” Bakugo drawls, leaning his head backwards and looking up at the obsidian sky. The boys laugh, remembering the ridiculous event.

The night is cool, the stars littering the inky atmosphere take the pressure off of Bakugo’s lungs. For weeks now they’ve been training like dogs, battling each other and even minor villains for extra practice of their quirks. This trip was supposed to be a leisure getaway, not a free porno.

But the grape-headed perv is insistent, scoffing and waving the blond’s quip off like some annoying fly.

“You know, there’s something in it for you too, Bakugo. I’ve seen the way you look at Y/N.”

This causes a murmur and a couple of light beers towards the blond, who in turn snarls and ignites his hand to quell the commotion. All of them had an inkling that Katsuki Bakugo had finally set his sights on some poor girl, and that was you. It was such a rare sight to see his face flush slightly when you walked past him, the way he stuttered over his words a bit when you two would be conversing amongst the same group, and best of all, when they would see how he would excuse himself to the bathroom or locker room occasionally when your hero suit would tear in certain places after battles.

“Shut the fuck up 3’2, unlike you I don’t need to ogle at those brain dead bimbos.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you thought of Y/N as a ‘brain dead bimbo’, Bakugo, I’ll be sure to let her know how you feel” Mineta grinned maliciously, and the boys ‘oooo’ed at the jab.

Bakugo’s voice caught in his throat.

“You wouldn’t,” he growled, rising slightly out of the water.

“I already know you’ll kill me afterwards, but I’m prepared for the repercussions if you don’t help...cooperate here,” Grapehead inspected a cuticle and feigned a yawn.

“Come on Bakugo, it’s not like it’s gonna hurt anyone! Well keep this to ourselves,” Denki chimed in a little too eagerly.

“Yeah, I mean, we’re only asking for your and everyone’s support so that we can focus better on training y’know? A little fun never killed anyone.” Sero threw his arm over Kirishima’s shoulder, who blushed at the whole ordeal but kept silent all the while.

Katsuki looked around. Slowly, others were starting to really listen in and look interested at the outcome of Mineta’s plan. Surely a little peeping wouldn’t be too bad would it? And plus, it was only a one time thing.

Shoto was faring the same way as Kirishima, quiet and maybe embarrassed at what they were planning on doing, but no outright refusal. Even Deku had a weird longing glint in his eye, the same kind he would get when he used to fawn over All Might.

He thought about it for a minute more, a chance to see you, naked, honest, and pure, splashing around with your friends as you let your femininity dangle as it pleased.

“Do whatever the hell you want. I’m not taking blame if the bird and glasses come back, though.”

Hushed cheers and excited murmurs erupt from around the spring, and they huddle together to form a plan.

A couple minutes later, the boys were grouping around the wooden panels. Todoroki had burned a hole into the soft wood, and sero had used his transparent tape to cover it up so that the girls couldn’t see it from their side.

And there they were, completely bare, hair flowing, curves showing, voices mature and high pitched giggles emanating from around the water and bank.

Bakugo seeks you out immediately after the hole is made, shoving his way through the crowded bodies much to the amusement of others. But he doesn’t care, all he wants at the moment is to see you in your most honest element.

He doesn’t have to look long, because you’re right there, you’re right in front of them, only a few meters away. Your back is facing them, but the sight of your smooth, naked back and the round curve of your ass squishing against the rocks underneath you is enough to make Bakugo’s cock bob painfully above the water. It’s not too hard to hide his erection since the boys’s attention is elsewhere at the moment.

Your hair is open, and he wants nothing more than to feel it in his hands, run his fingers though your scalp and pull so hard that your neck is snapped back, he wants to know what kind of noises you’ll make for him, would you sound shrill and high pitched or would you wail and bellow for him to let go?

They can hear the girls talking amongst themselves, the hole in the wall makes their voices more audible and clear.

“Quit playing coy, Jirou, we know you’ve got your eye on someone,” Hagakure’s body is nowhere to be found as usual, but her chipper voice rings out from the middle of the hot spring.

Jirou is a few feet away from where you sit, her body also being shown for everyone to see. Bakugo glances at Kaminari to confirm his suspicion, but gags and quickly looks away when he gets an eyeful of his friends’ erect cock.

Not that Bakugo himself has room to talk, though.

“I mean, not really, it’s not a big deal.” The ravenette shifts and hides her head from the rest of girls’ cooing.

“Uh huh, sure. You’re not fooling anyone Kiyoka, I’ve seen the way you look at Denki. You two can’t keep your eyes off each other, it’s cute,” you purr, and Bakugo holds himself back from shoving the other guys out of the way just so that he can hear your voice the best.

Squeals and sounds of splashing fill the air, and Sero and Kirishima whisper excitedly and clap their red-faced friend on the back. Denki can’t keep the 50K watt smile off his face, and even Bakugo grunts and knocks shoulders with him, letting him know that he was happy for the human charger.

But then Jirou claps back with her own snarky observation, and the boys fall hush at the new revelation.

“Alright, you wanna talk about ogling Y/N? Then tell me, how’s Deku doing?”

“Or Bakugo, too,” Mina adds slyly, and now all the girls’ attention, as well as the boys’, is on you.

Bakugo felt like he had whiplash. He would’ve been elated, on Cloud 9 even to hear that maybe you had something for him too, had shitty Deku’s name not have been thrown in there too.

And he looks around wildly for the green haired freak, the freckles dusted across the expanse of his face even more prominent from the deep blush quickly forming, his scarred hands holding the sides of his face shaking in awe and gleeful shock.

But the rest of the boys aren’t as oblivious to how Bakugo seethes at his rival’s joy, from the way the water gets hotter from his quirk sparking underneath the rippling waves. Kirishima scoots closer to his friend and gently lays a hand on his shoulder as if to say, calm down, man. Not right now.

And so the hothead leaves it for the time being, opting to hear your response.

“I-it’s really nothing, they’re both just good classmates like the rest of the guys,” and although your back is turned to them, it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re embarrassed too, your leg skittishly bouncing in front of you is making your ass jiggle from the back, much to the delight of the salivating boys.

Bakugo wants to spill blood when he suddenly realizes your body is being shown for the rest of these dogs to see

The girls start teasing you, your splutters being drowned out by their playful accusations.

“Come on L/N, whose cuter?”

“Dont act all coy now, I know how nervous you get when you’re all close to Bakugo. I mean I don’t blame you, have you seen his muscles? He could crush someone’s head with those things!”

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she giggles when Deku starts his mumbling tangents? That’s a classic crush right there.”

Bakugo is getting desperate to hear your answer now, some of the boys have left, feeling like they had their full of excitement for the night. They saw some tits and ass, heard some gossip, end of story.

The only ones remaining were Bakugo and his gang, as well as IcyHot and Shitty Deku.

Shitty Deku, who seemed equally eager to hear your response.

It pissed him off that he wasn’t getting the message to fuck off, even after all the growling and death stares he was receiving from his childhood friend.

But he guesses after a lifetime of dealing with it, it doesn’t scare Deku as much as it does anymore.

Maybe he’ll have to amp it up, later

“W-well I mean both of them have their own respective...flaws and strengths I guess..sometimes Deku can be kinda hard to talk to ‘cuz he’s so shy, but Bakugo can be a real jerk at times, too.”

You trail off, and Bakugo scoffs to himself. Him? Flaws? Those two words didn’t go well in one sentence together, but nonetheless he continues to listen. He wouldn’t refute the notion of him being an asshole, he wasnt that delusional.

“And yeah, I mean Bakugo definitely intimidates me sometimes with how aggressive he can be, but Deku is definitely getting up there in terms of physical prowess. But in terms of who I like, I’d have to say-“

“Midoriya! Bakugo! What are you two doing over there?”

Iidas voice booms across the water, and all 6 of the boys jump back, startled at the intrusion.

“No, wait-“ Bakugo hisses, clawing his way towards the hole to hear the rest of what you had to say, but Sero and Todoroki shove him back and patch the hole up with fire and tape, shutting off your confession.

Deku waves his arms around wildly, stammering some excuse of dropping his towel in the spot where they all were sheepishly gathered. They eventually waded their way over to where Tokoyami had set the drinks down, but the blond was shaking with hot rage despite the cool refreshment that was shoved into his hand by a wary Kirishima.

“Don’t sweat it dude, it’s not like her and Midoriya are gonna da-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll blast both your and his head off,” he glowers at the redhead, shorting a dark look to where an all-too-happy Deku was chatting with Todoroki, as if they hadn’t been drooling over their naked classmates merely a couple minutes ago.

Kirishima backs off with raised hands in surrender, leaving Katsuki to mull over the situation by himself.

You couldn’t seriously be interested in that green haired freak, right? I mean he could barely talk to a girl without tripping over his own damn tongue, for fucks sake.

Not that he was any better himself. He failed to acknowledge the times where you had merely asked him for an extra pencil, when he snapped at you for being such a fuckin’ dumbass that you couldn’t even remember to bring your own shit. He had done that out of pure impulse, but he regretted it the moment he saw your face fall, his heart clenching at the sight

He’d have to show you that he was the better option, regardless of if you wanted it or not.

And so when they had all gotten out of the water and gotten ready for food, Bakugo already knew what he had to do.

You were all eating outside in the camp pavilion, each at their own separate tables. He was sitting with the boys, all of them joking around and throwing food at each other while he was staring you down.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. How could you expect him to, after he had seen half of you bare already? It was sinful almost, the way you were completely in the dark about what he had seen and heard, while he himself was fantasizing about what you looked like and felt like on the front.

So when Deku came by your table, no doubt also having the same conversation of the springs in mind, wanting to get closer to you, Bakugo felt his sanity snap.

The fork he held in his hand started melting in his ignited hand, steam curling from his palm. He watched as the green-eyed fuck made successful shitty attempts to make you laugh, his eyes trained on where you gently laid a hand on his shoulder after something he said that made you throw your head back and howl with glee.

“Hey man, your fork-!” Kaminari yelped, pointing at the disfigured mess of metal in his friend’s steaming hand.

“Huh?” Bakugo was pulled out of his irate daze, and he quickly dropped the fork when he saw what he unconsciously did.

They all looked at him for an uneasy minute after noticing the expression on his face, no doubt understanding he was furious about being compared to Deku once again in front of you.

“Look, Bakugo, don’t really take what Y/N said to heart. We don’t know who she actually likes, and Midoriya’s just her friend...” but Sero trails off hesitantly after glancing in your direction, seeing Deku’s dreamy expression as your hand still continues to rest on his shoulder.

“Just let her come to you, yeah? You don’t wanna force anything on her, that’ll make her really uncomfortable-“

-“Shut the fuck up Shitty Hair, and mind your own damn business,” Bakugo interjects, abruptly unscrewing his drink and standing up, unable to lose you to some broccoli- headed bug-eyed fuck.

He stiffly walks across the pavilion to where you two sit, and feigns a swig from his bottle. Your focus is still on Deku, so you don’t notice him approach until he comes up behind you two and ‘trip’s, falling forward and strategically spilling the liquid all over Deku’s back and your front.

You squeal as your blouse is drenched, and Deku shoots up from his seat to grab some napkins while searching for the perpetrator.

“What the- Kacchan?”

“Oops.”

Bewildered, you look at the two while dabbing the wet splotches on your shirt, Mina and Tsu jumping into action to help you.

The boys exchange a weird look, and although Bakugo gave his version of an apology, he doesn’t look very sorry. In fact, if you saw it right he looked almost...smug? With a bit of anger?

Deku wasn’t any easier to understand either. His voice was lilted as usual while he grabbed napkins, but his gaze never left his childhood friends’ and his eyes weren’t exactly the big doe-eyes you had grown fond of.

They were darkened, and narrowed as they bored into Bakugo’s eyes. Neither one of them was looking away from each other, and there was a weird tension in the air that everyone could sense.

But you couldn’t focus on that right now, you had to go and wash up.

“I gotta change and maybe take a shower, I can feel it sticking to my skin,” you scrunch your nose in disgust and tell Mina as you stand to leave. Deku offers to walk you, but you wave him off kindly.

As you pass by Bakugo, you can feel his eyes rove up and down your body, very obviously staring at the way your white shirt clings to your chest from the liquid, sending chills up your spine.

But he doesn’t come after you, not yet.

It’s only after everyone has finished up from their dinner and headed off to bed almost 20 minutes later that the showers finally, finally warm up enough for you to dip a hesitant toe in.

Curse the old pipes.

*******

He watches you from the dark, the only light you’re provided with is the dim emergency light from the rusty bulb, the camp counselors having been shut the facility’s lights off merely a half hour ago. But you were stubborn in waiting for the water to warm up so you were left alone in the showers, shifting uncomfortably in your sticky wet clothes.

And then miraculously you get up for the umpteenth time to check the temperature of the water, and it’s finally deemed appropriate for you when you sigh in relief and start taking your shoes off.

He hides in the door partition, his cock hardening slowly as he thinks of you alone with just him and his mercy. You were going to pay for almost breaking his heart and prancing around with stupid fucking Deku instead.

But asides from his rage, he still liked you, a lot. He wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you, so he decided to try and attempt to make your first time with him as gentle and as special as he could in the dirty cabin showers.

Bakugo waits with bated breath for the right moment, and the second your hands grip the end of your shirt to pull it up, he slowly emerges from the dark.

“You know, I’m glad you came here alone, at night. It’s almost like you wanted this.”

You jump violently at the low voice coming from seemingly nowhere, and you wildly look around for the source until you see him...coming at you slow from the inky abyss of the room, like a predator stalking his prey.

His figure seems to loom even larger than he actually is, the shadows of his tall body bouncing off the walls and grazing over the top of your head. He seems to be in no rush, taking his time with his hands in his pockets, eyes flashing dangerously at you as he stalks forward until he’s backed you up against the deteriorating wall, chest to chest with you.

“W-what the hell, Bakugo,” you stammer nervously. “This is the girls room, you can’t be here-“

And the hand you raise to push him away is caught in his calloused ones, your other wrist is quickly seized as well and slammed above your head. You cry out in pain and try kicking out, but he wedges a bulky knee in between your thigh and shoves his face mere millimeters away from yours, a mean leer adorning his normally-attractive face.

“What, I can’t be here? And here I was thinking that you almost liked me. But oh, I forgot, Deku’s your favorite, right?” The grip on your wrist tigthens and his leg flexes from in between your thighs.

You squirm and sob, about to ask what the hell he was talking about-

Oh.

Oh no.

He sees the understanding pass over your face, and he laughs cruelly at the horror that comes with it.

“You heard me? How?”

“Not just heard. I saw you, too.”

He lets his eyes drop from your neck, to your chest, and then to the juncture between your legs which was being massaged by his knee.

Tears well up in your eyes as you realize he was watching you this entire evening in the springs. How he got away with it, you didn’t want to even know.

“I saw your hair open for the first time, and not in that stupid hairdo you always do for school.”

He trails his hand softly up the sides of your body and up your neck until he reaches his big hand into your scalp. You whimper and gasp as he laces his fingers through your locks, seeming to caress you but then harshly yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look at him head on.

“I saw your ass pressed up against the rocks, and I wished it was up against my cock instead.”

He removes his hand from your hair and snakes it down to your bottom, kneading and slapping it lightly. You writhe even harder now, too scared to make a noise in case he hurts you even worse, just wanting him to get the hell off of you.

“But I didn’t see the front of you. I imagined what you would look like with tears streaming down your face while I was stuffing you full of me”

He plays with the edge of your shirt, a dark look in his eye as he plays with you. You try to budge your hands but to now avail, only serving in annoying him and shoving his knee up further into your crotch. The pressure on your clit is immense, and your legs start shaking as you’re forced to be suspended almost midair on his knee.

“Take this off,” he says softly, the rasp catching in his voice.

“Bakugo, please. You don’t have to do this, I swear I won’t tell anyone-“

“You think I’m worried about if you’ll tell anyone? Hah! I already know you won’t, wanna know why?”

He leans in, inhaling the scent of your hair and grazing his nose along the side of your neck. You force yourself to breath in and out, feeling an impending heart attack.

“‘Cause if you do, I’ll make sure to fuck you in front of everyone, especially on Deku’s broken body.”

And then you can’t stop them, the tears fall from your body shaking in pure fear at his threat.

You knew he wouldn’t actually do something like that, but hearing it snarled in your ear so softly made you believe it all the same, the power he held while you were fucked, literally and metaphorically.

“Now I’m not gonna ask you again. Take this shit off before I burn it, bitch.”

You don’t want to piss him off further, so with trembling hands you lift the edge of your sticky uniform and start to pull it off, but he stops you with a frustrated grunt.

“Slowly. I wanna savor this while no ones here.”

You bite your lip and suppress a scream as you do what he says.

And oh, does he ever savor it. The shirt clings deliciously to your breasts, and he licks his lips as it ruffles up and over your head. Your skin is perspiring from the humid air, a sheen of sweat lightly decorating your collarbones. Bakugo can’t hold himself back any longer, and you yelp when he comes at you suddenly.

He lunges at your face and pins your arms down by your side again as his lips mesh against yours, his kiss filled with clacking teeth and a thrashing tongue against your lips. The knee you’re straddling is bouncing lightly up and down, jostling you on it and causing your cunt to pulsate with heat.

You let out a distressed moan, and he swallows it greedily, using the advantage of your open mouth to delve deeper into your wet cavern. You open bleary eyes and flinch when you find his already wide open, staring back into unforgiving vermillion orbs.

He pulls back slightly, panting. “I bet Deku didn’t get this kind of treatment, huh? It’s all for me right?”

You don’t know if he’s genuinely asking you or just being insane, so you don’t answer him. Fortunately and unfortunately for you, he doesn’t care for your response, rather more focusing on dragging you by your neck towards the hot showers.

You slip and stumble as he shoves you in a stall, gaining your balance only too late when he turns and locks the door.

“Look, I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, just forget you saw or heard anything at the springs, it was just girl talk, stupid stuff that didn’t mean anything-“

“-even if it didn’t mean anything to you I’ll make sure you believe what you’ll feel after I fuck you senseless.”

And with that, he tugs off his clothes and licks his lips at the sight of you cowering against the wall, naked and oh so vulnerable.

He slowly shifts towards you, pressing his body flush against your trembling one. You can feel the outline of his erection on your thigh, and you swallow at how big it is.

“I don’t wanna have to close your mouth or restrain you when I’m balls deep in that tight cunt. So don’t do anything stupid and this’ll be a whole lot easier for you.”

He reaches a hand down and lightly strokes your labia, relishing in how you whimper and jerk against him, but don’t dare try to stop his hand.

Smart girl

Another hand finds its way to your tits, tugging and pulling at your hardened nipples. You gasp and arch into his touch, slowly coming undone from his ministrations. He humps against your leg like a teenage kid, grunting while he does so.

His mouth is attacking yours once again, but now you’re too tired from the constant surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins to even move your head. You just let him play with your body, your heart, your soul.

“I think the princess is wet enough for me now,” he leers at you when he pulls his fingers away, scissoring his digits to show the strings of wetness he pulled from your pussy.

You squeal and grab onto his chiseled arms as he suddenly hikes his hands underneath your upper thighs and picks you up, forcing your legs to wrap around his middle for support.

He slams you against the wall, the water cascading down your head is making your hair stick to your face, and in a strange and sudden show of intimacy Bakugo softly moves your locks away from your eyes. Your gazes lock, yours desperate and tear filled while his scarlet hues show no signs of mercy, but rather a strange predatory hunger.

Your arms scrabble behind his head and on his shoulders for balance as he slowly sinks you down on his length. You hiss and throw your head back at the sensation of being filled, and he eats it up.

He watches the way your mouth opens, your eyes widen, as every sinful sound your body can make escapes you.

As if he needed more of an ego boost

You wail as the last inches are sucked into your dripping hole, and he lets out a mean breathy laugh.

“Fuck, you really were ready huh? I should’ve taken you weeks ago, little slut.”

Your brows furrow and you try to turn your face away but he snatches your chin in a hardened grip.

“Uh-uh, none of that shit. You were doing so well, don’t turn away from me now.”

He slowly starts to roll his hips minutely into yours, not exactly thrusting but enough movement to make your cunt flutter and throb.

“What do you want me to say? You got what you wanted!” You whisper to him, more tears falling down freely down your cheeks.

He can’t help himself, he groans and surges forward to lick the salty rivers up, gripping your ass tightly when you flinch.

“Tell me you love me. Tell me how much you want me, how much better I am than that green-haired bastard and I won’t shove it up your ass.”

You can feel his abdomen clench and shake from the effort he’s making not to completely batter your cervix so you give in quickly, afraid of what he’s like when his thin strands of self restraint snap.

“I...I love you Bakugo. I really want y-ooh!”

The last bit of your sentence is choked off as he lifts you up all the way to his tip and slams your hips down his length. You gasp and weave your hands through his hair for support, your legs violently shaking at the pain.

He grunts and starts really giving it to you, setting a fast pace as he bounces you on his cock. Your head is bobbing around, you’re fairly certain there’s drool coming down your lips but you can’t find it in you to care as he fucks you into oblivion.

After a couple of more painful thrusts he pushes you against the wall and removes your hands from his hair, holding them above your head against the wall. You’re trapped with your upper half plastered against the dingy tile while your lower half is wrapped his dick.

Your cunt swallowing him down is the only leverage you have, so your whole body weight presses down on his shaft. He moans loudly at the pressure on his tip, your gooey hot walls clamping around him from every angle and you yourself can’t help it when your eyes roll back at the sensation.

He rocks his hips up, and up you go as well, whining and clawing at the wall behind you, desperately grappling onto your sanity as well. Your tits bounce with each thrust, and his glinting eyes take perverse joy in their obscene movements.

Bakugo starts moving in earnst now, deeming the slow strokes enough prep for you. He batters your womb, reaching places not even your fingers could access, making you go cross eyed.

He sees this and snickers at your pathetic state.

“Fuck yeah you little whore. You’re gonna learn no one else can satisfy this slutty pussy like I can.”

You give him nothing but a choked gasp in response. You head moves like a bobblehead, you can’t even see clearly from the water cascading into your eyes. He’s just a towering blob of ashy blond hair and large muscles.

His hips start stuttering in their rhythm, drawing to a close from his contrasting pounding minutes earlier. Your nails rake over his forearms, holding on for dear life as he pants and groans into your ear like an animal. His dick spasms inside you for a second or two, and then Bakugo suddenly holds you tight against him, wet bodies pressed against each other as he cums.

He lets out a loud moan as you whine into his shoulder at the sensation of his hot seed filling you up. You’re held against his heaving chest for a moment of two, the both of you catching your breath until he slowly backs up and lets you slip to the ground.

It’s suddenly very quiet, the sound of the shower is drowned out by the ringing in your head. You’re shaking, shock overcoming your abused body as you refuse to look at him.

But he won’t have any of that. He steps forward, and you flinch yet again, scrambling backwards to put very necessary space between him and you.

“You got what you wanted. Please leave, I won’t say anything to anyone.” You breath out shakily.

He’s silent for a moment before you hear him chuckle. His low chuckles grow louder and more derisive, he’s booming with sinister laughter and you snap your head up in horror at him.

“You think this is done?”

He crouches to your level suddenly, elbows on his knees as he cocks his head at you, eyeing your naked body that he so recently claimed as his. His gaze travels down to where his cum seeps from between your legs, and you quickly cross your limbs over to prevent him from seeing the lewd sight.

“You’re mine now, Y/N. I already told you, you’re not gonna be talking to Deku, or any other guy apart from me. You think they’ll even want you when they find out how you loved being fucked in the dirty showers? Everyone’s gonna call you a slut, nothing else.”

“No, that’s not true you-“

He crawls to you, and it’s so mesmerizingly terrifying to see a man of his build crawl to you like some deranged humanoid that you shut up, words caught in your throat.

“Shut the fuck up.” He says softly. “You’re my bitch now, and you’ll do whatever the fuck I say, when I say it.”

Bakugo might’ve felt a little bad to see the girl he liked so scared of him all because of his doing, but the way you trembled and crossed your legs like the stupid, helpless little girl that you were erased every hesitancy from his mind.

He grabbed your cheeks and smushed them together, paying no mind to the pleas and whimpers you let out in retaliation.

Licking a long stripe up your neck, you shivered when he growled, “now clean up and be outside in 10 minutes, you’re sleeping in my bunk tonight. The guys are all asleep so we’ll just take an empty room in the cabin.”

He released you and stood back up, grabbing a towel for himself along the way. Drying his hair off, his back was turned to you as he started picking his clothes up too.

You just sat there in a daze, wondering what the hell just happened.

“Oh, and Y/N?” He was dressed, and he was at the door now.

“If you think about doing anything stupid or take longer than 10 minutes, I’ll come back in and get you personally. And I’ll make sure that we stay here for the rest of the night, just in case you like your little time alone that I’m giving you too much.”

[stellar-imagines]

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝that's a little dark.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Class 1-A ]

「 Class 1-A with an emotionless reader who gets hit with a quirk that make them turn back into a child along with the mentality of a child. In the end, Class 1-A and then fluff ensues with them basically fawning over a cute shy and easily flustered reader. But, they discover something about you.」

You couldn't remember what you did yesterday but it felt like you had the greatest sleep in your entire life. As your eyes adjusted to the surprisingly bright light, you slowly got up and looked at your surroundings. The place was unfamiliar and for a second, you found yourself rubbing your eyes and yawning. It seemed that you were in an infirmary of some sort but you don't recall going to school or anything. There were bandages around your arms and neck but it wasn't anything new.

"Oh, you're finally awake, my child." an old lady you didn't recognize swivelled around her office chair and hopped off.

"Who are you and where am I?" you asked, voice coming out a bit weaker than you had expected.

She identified herself as Recovery Girl — the nurse of the school and explained what had happened to you. It seemed like you got hit by a quirk in an unfortunate accident which caused you to turn back into a child with no memory of yourself in the future. You didn't believe it until you saw the different technologies and the date on the calendar. Never in your life you had felt so out of place in your entire life.

While the friendly old lady was trying her best to fill you in, the door to infirmary opened and a brown haired girl stepped in. She had has shoulder length, brown hair that's bobbed and curved inwards at the end. The girl looked at you for a moment, her eyes lit up and you could sense the relief in her eyes. She dropped her belongings and rushed towards the bed you had been sitting on. You backed away on instinct, slightly intimidated by how aggressive she was being.

”Where did you get those injuries from!? I thought you just got hit by a quirk on accident!” she exclaimed, looking at the gauze wrapped around your wrists and neck.

”Calm down. You’re scaring the poor girl.” Recovery Girl stepped in before this brown haired stranger did anything to you.

Recovery Girl explained your situation to the girl who quickly understood the situation. She then approached you but this time, she did it cautiously and ensured that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable nor intimidated by her. After a quick introduction, you leaned that she was Uraraka Ochaco and supposedly one of your classmates. She got down to your eye level and attempted to befriend you. She tried asking a few questions about yourself. You could answer the simplest questions like ones about yourself. However when it came to questions about the times you spend in UA, you shook your head to everything, none of them sounded familiar to you.

Uraraka spoke in a gentle manner that you were not used to and it didn't take long for you to get comfortable around her. She entertained you by telling stories about her life in UA and heroes. The brunette managed to make you smile a bit with her way of storytelling which included a bit of exaggeration here and there along with the occasional hand gestures.

"Uraraka-san? Are you ready to go back to the dorms?" another unfamiliar voice was heard from the entrance of the infirmary. You saw a few heads peek into the infirmary, those you did not recognize at all.

With the help of Uraraka, your situation was explained to the new people that just arrived. It didn't take long for your classmates to gather around you and pointing out how cute you were. Though it was a bit embarrassing to be put under the spotlight, you quite liked the feeling of having so many people care about you. It made you think about how bright the future seemed for you.

You were brought back to the dorms where you met up with your other classmates. Those who knew about your current situation quickly explained what was going on with you to avoid any misunderstanding and confusion. You stood awkwardly at the entrance, fiddling with the hem of your dress and looking down to avoid eye contact. Suddenly, you were pushed forward by an unknown force, falling on your knees.

“Who left their fucking child here?” a scary looking guy glared down at you as you tried recovering from the small fall you had.

”Hey, Bakugou! Mind your language!” his friend whispered at the ash blonde who just clicked his tongue in response.

Their loud voices startled you which resulted in you to hide behind Uraraka's legs as if it was the safest place in the world. You gripped tightly on her skirt, hiding yourself from the people you didn't recognize. Loud voices always made you nervous and scared, it reminded you of your mother whenever she was unsatisfied with your performance. Uraraka let her hand stroke your hair to soothe your nerves a little. Ashido stood in front of the two of you with her hands on her hips, looking like a mother reprimanding their child.

"Bakugou, you're scaring [First Name]!" the pink haired girl scolded Bakugou who seemed a bit confused.

"You're telling me this brat is [Nickname]?" he closed the distance between the two of you with a few large strides. He stared at your for a few seconds to study your face a bit. It didn't take him that long to actually recognize a few familiar features and eventually he walked off, muttering something under his breath.

"I've never seen her like this before!" Uraraka cooed as you continued to hide behind her legs. You were never the type to be in the center of attention and didn't have any friends in when you were young because of how shy and awkward you were. Ashido crouched down and offered you a small jar of cookies that she had found in the kitchen.

"Should we send her home? She might be more comfortable staying with her parents." Yaoyorozu suggested, watching you munching on the cookie that you've been handed to.

"I think its best we tell her family about it this." Iida took it upon himself to pull out his phone and prepare to dial your home.

”Are we all having a sleepover?” you spoke up after being silent almost the entire time you arrived at the dorms.

"I don't want to go home." Everyone stopped to stare at you for a while, some surprised because it was the first time they've heard you since you came back. The girls looked at each other for a while as if they were silently communicating with one another. Midoriya who seemed to be the first one to notice that you seemed a bit uncomfortable, crouched down in front of you.

"You can stay here with us if you want. I'm sure everyone is okay with that." the viridian haired male gave you a gentle smile that made you feel a bit relaxed.

"Do you like having sleepovers, [First Name]-chan?" Ashido plopped down right next to you.

"I don't have friends and mommy doesn't like having me around." you mumbled.

"That's silly. I'm sure your mother is worried about you." Iida replies.

"Nu uh, mommy strangles me like this every night.” you shook your head lightly and wrapped your hands around your neck to imitate someone strangling you. The room immediately grew silent at your comment, clearly unsure of how to respond to your oddly specific comparison.

"Haha, good joke [First Name]-chan!" Kaminari patted your head gently, his laugh clearly a forced one.

"Mommy used to pull my hair too."

You never the friendly type of person to begin with anyways. From the very first day you got into UA, you were quite anti-social, never initiating any conversations or made effort to befriend anyone. However, it was quite surprising to know that you've been abused when you were younger. Almost everyone seemed shocked by the revelation and had no idea how to react.

"My mom gave me this scar." Todoroki crouched down next to you and gestured to the scar over his eye.

”I can’t believe that the only thing closed off people have in common is the fact that they’ve been abused.” Jirou muttered out loud.

"Okay, don't worry! We're all having a sleepover tonight!" Uraraka beamed brightly which made your eyes light up like a Christmas tree. A small smile made its way to your features and you couldn't help but sway excitedly.

"Everyone is joining right?"

There was no way they could refuse those hopeful eyes of yours, not when you have been through so much at such an age. They all seemed eager, suggesting a movie, snacks and games.One particular ash blonde looked indifferent, hands shoved into his pockets as he began to slowly walk away from the crowd of people. The first person to notice that he was making his way back to his own room was Iida.

"Where are you going Bakugou-kun?" the class president had asked as if it was a natural that Bakugou was also supposed to be a part of this so called 'sleepover'. Bakugou glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at Iida as if he had gone insane.

"What makes you think that I will join this stupid—" the ash blonde gestured at whatever was going on.

"But a sleepover is not one without everyone." your quiet voice interrupted, your small hands tugging at his pants. He held his tongue after seeing Iida wildly gesture at him not to be so mean to you. The entirety of the class seemed to be really hell bent on giving you what you wanted.Bakugou felt his eyebrows twitching and began weighing his options.

Sero, Ashido, Kaminari and Kirishima were openly pleading him to stay while some others seem to believe that Bakugou would never want to sit down for a stupid sleepover. The ash blonde gave in, realizing that no matter what he chose, it won't be any different. If he chose to not participate, he probably won't be able to fall asleep from all the noise. And the possibly of witnessing these extras embarrass themselves didn't sound too bad.

"Fine! You guys are so annoying....." Bakugou grumbled. Your eyes lit up at his change of heart and began tugging him enthusiastically towards the common area’s couch.

Why does he agree to the stupidest things?

Total: 1717 words Published: 05.06.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ We tried our best for this scenario. Hope we reached your expectations! We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! Tumblr has changed how the asks look and it looks very different. Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

[thornedrose44]

Prompt: “I can’t do this. Just leave me alone.”

Read on AO3

"Goodnight, Kara." Lena said from across the room when she finally managed to catch Kara's eye.

It was the first time they had made eye contact since Kara had welcomed her inside at the start of the night. Kara startled at the sudden sight of Lena, waving farewell as she stepped quietly towards the door, but made no move to follow after her and when the door swung quietly shut behind her Lena knew things would never be the same.

It was Kara's birthday party (her Earth birthday party to those that happened to be in the know, which to Lena's un-surprise was a rather considerable group all things considered). Kara had invited her, further proof of the strength of their newly reaffirmed friendship. Lena had been grateful for the invite, appreciating it as the sign that they were back on the right track, and accepted it without hesitation.

She had then proceeded to spend hours upon hours thinking of the perfect gift for Kara, excitement and anticipation building in her stomach.

It would be her first proper night out in months after being thrown back into her role as CEO and dealing with all the negative press following Lex’s downfall and upcoming conviction. Her working hours had reached an excess that she had never achieved before. The blowback onto her in the form of hatred for the Luthors was even greater than last time as well, despite her crucial role in taking Lex down. She was still deemed guilty by association especially since she had been working closely with Lex for a long time before revelations about his villainy became apparent.

The news were critiquing her every move, slandering her every chance they got and rallying the masses to a fervour - she was now facing at least one assassination attempt every week.

Regardless of all that, Lena had one salvation, one light of hope that she clung onto. Her friendship with Kara. It was growing again. They were spending time together. Relearning one another or learning about each for the first time in Lena's case. The conversation was finally less stilted and the trust was back.

But there was still something missing, something stopping them from returning to exactly where they were before.

Lena, as the months ticked by, realised that they were no longer as physically close as they once were. Hugs were rare. Gentle touches of the hands were swiftly snatched back to prevent lingering. Even extended eye contact was fleeting.

Lena at first thought the problem was that she had hurt Kara so badly that the woman who sometimes communicated solely through physical affection no longer wanted to be touched by Lena. That broke something in Lena. That Kara, even though she was trying to be kind, friendly and forgiving to Lena, was not comfortable with any sort of physical contact between them, drove Lena into a drunken stupor of college-level proportions.

Once the alcohol was out of her system and she had suitably recovered from her hangover, Lena had allowed the scientist within her to take over.

No more assumptions.

She would gather evidence, make an hypothesis and work towards a solution.

If she wanted Kara back in her life properly - cuddles on the sofa and lengthy hugs a necessity of that - Lena would put the effort in.

So she observed… and what she observed was this…

Pink cheeks and bashful expressions whenever their gazes met.

A thick swallow and faltering breath whenever their hands brushed.

Deep sighs and fingers digging fleetingly into her back as if on the edge of pulling her closer whenever they embraced.

Dark eyes and teeth biting into a bottom lip whenever Lena stretched or moved her hair away from her neck.

Attraction, affection and interest .

Lena didn’t believe the results of her evidence; she re-ran the tests over and over again trying to work out if she had just interacted with Kara on an odd day, if she just happened to be thinking about something (someone) else at the same time but… it kept happening over and over again.

If it had been anyone else, Lena wouldn’t have doubted what she was seeing but… but.. This was Kara.

Kara, who she had been in love with since she had walked into her office with her cousin.

Kara, who had never picked up on or reacted to her flirts.

Kara, who had broken her heart with lies.

Kara, who meant so much to her.

Kara, who she had only just gotten back.

Was it worth the risk?

Fear had blinded her, of that she had no doubt, but was it keeping her safe from the hurtful truth of Kara not wanting to touch her anymore or from the potential happiness that Kara returned her feelings but was too sweet or shy to put herself in a position that would make Lena uncomfortable.

Lena decided to take a chance - just this once because even if she was wrong about Kara not feeling the same, she had to believe that Kara was incapable of being cruel to her if she misread it. They promised each other honesty and Lena intended to show it.

It was why she needed to buy the perfect present, something that hinted that Kara’s feelings (if Lena was right) were returned. And just a week before the party, she knew exactly what the perfect present would be.

She wrapped it personally (normally Jess would wrap any gifts she had to send out), wanting to go the extra mile. It wasn’t perfectly done, a bit messy in places and the sellotape was excessive but she had done it herself which she knew Kara would appreciate more than professional gift wrapping.

Lena, however, realised that she had made a mistake the second she arrived at Kara's.

Knew she had misread… everything …

Because Kara… Kara couldn't stand to be near her for longer than it took to say hello, accept the present and then disappear off.

Lena hadn’t expected to be with Kara for all of the party; it was Kara's party and loads of her friends were in attendance, all of whom wanted to spend it with Kara. Who wouldn't?

It's just… Lena…

Lena didn't have anyone else.

It was made abundantly clear to Lena within the first thirty seconds that she was not welcome. Alex gave her a gruff nod from across the room before turning her back to her - she still didn't trust her and Lena had prioritised winning Kara back over the last few months above everything else. Brainy and Nia smiled at her but they were deep in conversation with CatCo employees all of whom were practically snarling at Lena (clearly not Luthor fans). James was here as well and dear God did he give her such a blazing look of hatred Lena was surprised she didn't burst into flames under its ferocity. (They hadn’t dated in this rewritten universe, much to Lena’s pleasure, though his original dislike for her was clearly a mainstay of every universe).

So… Lena grabbed a drink and stood in the corner as Kara moved seamlessly between her various groups of friends and colleagues, never once sparing Lena even a glance. The majority of her movements were accompanied by William Dey, who repeatedly tried to sling an arm around Kara's shoulder - the only joy Lena got from the evening was watching Kara repeatedly squirm out from under his touch.

She held out for two hours, sipping three beers and glancing intermittently at her phone as she stayed in her corner, hoping that Kara would come over for just five minutes.

Five minutes with Kara wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

Five mere minutes with Kara would have made the whole night worth it, made the glares and malevolent whispers sent her way worth it.

It was at the two hour mark that Lena accepted the truth.

Kara wasn't going to come over to talk to her.

Kara hadn't been pulling away from her due to a sudden realisation of feelings and attraction.

Kara hadn't expected her to accept the invite. Hadn't wanted her to accept.

Kara was ashamed of her, that was why she pulled away, why she didn't acknowledge her.

Lena couldn't really blame her but that didn't mean she had to stay and take it. So gathering what was left of her dignity, she shuffled towards the door, caught Kara's eye, waved and slipped outside… though, not before retrieving the present she had brought for Kara… it would have revealed far too much and Lena didn't need to deal with that on top of everything else.

Lena returned to her office for no other reason that she still had some good liquor stored there - Kara had encouraged her a couple of months ago to cut back on her drinking and she couldn’t deny the baby blue puppy dog eyes. She staggered into her office, chucking the present she had spent hours creating onto the sofa - she would buy Kara some random meaningless gift like a nice scarf or jumper tomorrow instead - and poured herself a full tumbler before flipping open her laptop and getting to work. She lost herself in designs and business plans as she made her way through the bottle.

She used to sit and brood when she drank but Sam had made her promise she wouldn’t do that anymore, hazel eyes filled with concern at where Lena’s mind wandered when unoccupied and fuelled by alcohol. Whilst Lena was in a pretty bleak space, she refused to hurt her last (and only) friend by breaking the one promise she had made to her.

It must have been two am when Lena heard a familiar thud from the balcony followed by a gentle knock that could only belong to one person.

“Kara, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Lena called out, not bothering to lift her gaze away from her laptop screen - she wasn't sure whether the sight of Kara would evoke tears or fury and she wished to give Kara neither.

“Hey… I just wanted… I was…" Kara stammered out; Lena didn't need to see her to know that she was fidgeting with the edge of her cape as she tiptoed nervously closer. "You know… flying around and saw the light on and figured I would check in on you, see how you were doing…”

“I’m fine. Just working.” Lena replied brusquely taking a sip of her whiskey.

“And drinking…” Kara muttered, her tone more worried than disapproving but Lena took offense regardless.

“Yes. It’s a Saturday night, cut me some slack.” Lena snapped back, defiantly swallowing what was left in her glass before slamming it down onto her desk.

The loud clack as it connected with the surface was followed by a heavy, almost suffocating silence.

“You left early.” Kara whispered into the unnatural stillness, shattering the fraudulent focus Lena had on her computer screen with those three words. Kara didn't sound confused or upset, just painfully neutral as if to emotionally step back from the situation so that she could garner some emotional truth from the CEO instead.

Well, Lena was done with that, done with giving more of herself than Kara wanted so she took a deep, calming breath and allowed her painstakingly crafted mask to slip into place.

“I wasn’t the first to leave.” Lena pointed out calmly, finally turning to look at Kara, certain she could keep her voice and face blank. It was then that she saw how… small Kara looked, which was never a word Lena would have used to describe Kara in full Supergirl regalia in the entire time she had known her. Kara looked defeated and lost, a tremble to her lip and very being that she tried to hide behind a shy smile.

“Well… I didn’t get a chance to talk to you…” Kara replied, ducking her head meekly as she admitted. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Lena pursed her lips at that, “I was there for over two hours, Kara. You could have come over whenever you wanted. It wasn’t like I was occupied.”

“Yeah… what was that about?” Kara laughed, rubbing the back of her neck, trying far too hard to make her tone light as if even the idea of Lena being without company was an entirely absurd concept.

The high-pitch to Kara's laugh and the unfamiliar tension around her eyes revealed to Lena that Kara knew exactly why Lena had been standing all alone that evening.

“I’m a Luthor, Kara." Lena replied sharply, not interested in trying to smooth over the harsh truths like Kara was always so keen to do when it suited her. "No one wanted me there and they all made that very clear.”

“I wanted you there.” Kara replied so soft and earnest that Lena nearly believed her.

“I highly doubt that.” Lena scoffed derisively.

“I did.” Kara insisted, eyes desperate and pleading.

Lena merely shook her head, turning back to face her computer, “If you say so…”

“Lena, I-”

“Kara… I can’t…” Lena muttered, her voice cracking in the exact way she didn’t want it to. “I can’t do this. Just leave me alone.” Lena requested, hating how it verged on begging.

“What?” Kara murmured in shock.

“I can’t just… pretend that I’m not hurt or upset.” Lena confessed, fingers curling into fists on her desk, eyes slamming shut to lock in the tears. “I just need… time to get over it and accept what we are. So until then… please just leave me alone.”

“I hurt you.” Kara repeated, her voice broken and raw .

“Kara, I didn’t…” Lena shook her head angrily, she didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to inflict herself on Kara who had tried so hard to be her friend. “It's your birthday, Kara.” Lena sighed sadly, “You get to spend it anyway you like with whomever you like.”

“I wanted to spend it with you.” Kara breathed, and Lena could hear the sharp inhales between each word that revealed that Kara was crying.

“Kara, you don’t need to…” Lena assured, with a wave of her hand, eyes focused on her lap, “let’s just leave it, okay?”

“No…” Kara gasped, and suddenly Lena felt a trembling hand connect with her own tightly curled fists, “wait… what did you mean ‘get over it’ and ‘accept what we are’?”

Lena sucked in a sharp breath at the question, biting down harshly on her bottom lip.

“Lena?” Kara pressed.

“Fuck it, fine.” Lena snapped, yanking her hands away from Kara’s infinitely soft touch and shoving herself out of her chair before storming away from Kara, desperate for space. “I thought you liked me.”

“I do-” Kara began, taking a tentative step after her.

“No, Kara.” Lena yelled, spinning back to face Kara, with a twisted snarl of total self-loathing. “Liked me.” Lena stressed, before throwing her hands up into the air as it all just boiled out of her, “God, I sound like a teenager. I thought you liked me. I thought you were touching me less because you were attracted to me. But then… I go to your party and you don’t… it was like you were ashamed of me, I sat in that fucking corner for two hours as everyone wished - out loud, I should say - that I would go. I sat in that fucking corner in the hope that you would speak to me for five minutes. For just five minutes. Because that… that would have made it all worth it. But you could barely look at me. And I realised you didn’t - don’t - like me… you’re ashamed of me, but you’re too kind to abandon me. Too noble and generous but even you have your limits. Of course, you didn’t want to spend your birthday talking to me. Of course you didn’t.”

Lena wanted to punch a wall, wanted to down the rest of her whiskey, wanted to do literally anything than be here in this moment watching the horror-struck expression on Kara’s face grow and grow with every word, watch Kara’s body tremble and shake with each harsh sweeping gesture.

“Lena, no… you…” Kara sobbed, striding towards her with fingers twitching at her sides, “you have got the complete wrong end of the stick. Actually, you’re right but also really wrong. And…” Kara swiped aggressively at the tears rolling down her cheeks as she approached Lena, stopping when the raven-haired woman flinched at their sudden closeness. “I screwed up but-”

“No. You don’t need to do this.” Lena cut in, holding a hand up to stop Kara, wanting Kara to know that her guilt was unnecessary and that she could finally be free of Lena.

“Lena, I’m so-”

“You don’t need to apologise.” Lena insisted, taking a deep breath to rein back in her swirl of her emotions. She could do this. She could let Kara go. “You were trying to be kind but you shouldn’t… god, if I make you that miserable, that uncomfortable, you shouldn’t have to force yourself to interact with me.”

“LENA!” Kara bellowed, stamping her foot to the ground and lifting her chin to reveal a determined expression.

Lena blinked in shock at the sudden volume and intensity; falling obediently quiet.

Kara placed her hands on her hips, took a deep breath, looked Lena straight in the eye with earnest, beseeching blue and declared, “I want to kiss you right now because that would be the big sweeping action that would prove to you that I mean what I’m about to say next but… you’ve been drinking… heavily from the looks of things.” Kara shot a displeased pout at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey as if it was all the bottle’s fault for Lena’s current state of inebriation and not the youngest Luthor’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. Kara turned back to face a stunned Lena, with a fond smile, “And I really want our first kiss to be one you remember and one you can fully consent to. So, you’re just going to have to believe me… please, please believe me when I say… I’m in love with you and I fucked up massively tonight. Really, really fucked up.”

“You never swear.” Lena murmured quietly, and it probably wasn’t what she should have been focusing on but her brain was currently stuck like a record scratch unable to fully comprehend what Kara had just told her; and the swear was just the cherry on top of an entire sundae of confusing and out-of-the-blue revelations.

“Which shows how much I believe that I fucked up.” Kara replied with a helpless shrug.

“But-”

“You were the only person I wanted to spend my birthday with.” Kara confessed, “Well, Alex at some point as well. But you mostly. Alex planned the party and I couldn’t…” Kara huffed out a frustrated breath and rolled her eyes, “she did this whole thing and I didn’t want to turn around and say I didn’t want it. That all I really wanted was a quiet night watching films with you because…” Kara sighed, “because then she’d know… To make it more bearable I invited you but there were so many other people, and I will be honest… I don’t even like half of them. Alex, just invited everyone I was friends on facebook with which is not a good barometer of friendship.”

Lena cleared her throat, none of it making sense, “Then why-”

“Did I ignore you?” Kara guessed with a painful wince.

“Yeah…” Lena muttered, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

“Because… because I knew, or at least I thought I knew, that you hadn’t noticed how I felt about you.” Kara explained inching just that little bit closer towards Lena, attempting to bring them within touching distance of one another. “And I knew it was only a miracle that you hadn’t until now because…” Kara smiled a lopsided, rueful and self-deprecating smile, “Lena, I am not subtle. Not at all. And I knew… I knew if I interacted with you at the party… everyone else would be able to tell in an instant how I felt.”

Lena exhaled slow and deep, arms tightening their hold around herself, “And you didn’t want them knowing you liked me?”

“Love. Not like.” Kara corrected, patient yet firm, “Love. And no, I didn’t.”

Lena nodded once in understanding, letting out a hollow laugh, “I get it. I wouldn’t want anyone to know I loved me either.”

“Lena… no… no… you…” Kara rushed to explain, finally stepping close enough to reach out and place her hands gently on Lena’s curled biceps. Lena couldn’t help how she instinctively shifted closer, wanting to increase contact with Kara after being denied it for so long. “I didn’t want anyone knowing before you.” Kara admitted.

And that… that snapped something back into place for Lena.

Made the doubts screaming inside her head quieten down just enough to think… maybe…

Because… it was being last that had broken them the first time. Being the only one not to know and now…

“I didn’t want Stacy, who used to cheat off me in exams in college to know how I felt about you before you did.” Kara said, thumbs moving back and forth against the bare skin of Lena’s arms causing a swathe of goosebumps to rise like a wave in the wake of Kara’s every touch. “They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve…” Kara’s jaw clenched, eyes darkening as she studied Lena’s face, “I was trying to protect you from them. They said horrible things about you and you should know, the minute after you left, I kicked everyone who so much as looked at you funny out. It was just me, Nia, Brainy and Kelly left… Alex, as well, but we had a rather heated argument before she was allowed to stay.” Kara bowed her head in shame, “I should have kicked them all out immediately but-”

“Then they would have known.” Lena finished for her.

“I had this whole thing planned.” Kara breathed out, her hands gradually shifting away from Lena’s arms around to her back, surrounding Lena in a loose hold, Kara’s eyes flickering over Lena’s face and body rapidly searching for even the slightest sign that Lena was uncomfortable with their contact. “Once everyone left, I had set-up the roof with lights and cushions and… I was going to tell you how I felt. I just had to make it through the birthday party from hell and I was trying so hard to keep to the plan. To not spoil it. To keep it a secret so that it could just be ours but... I…” Kara’s eyes slid shut and she inhaled a shuddering breath filled with pain. “I hurt you. And there is nothing I can say to make you forgive me, but I do… I do love you so much. And I will never, ever be ashamed of you.” Kara blinked her eyes back open and leaned forward to place a kiss on Lena’s forehead. “I just wanted it to be ours and not theirs. I didn’t want to share. You’re the only thing in my life that… I didn’t want to share.”

“Open your present.” Lena demanded, stepping out of Kara’s loving embrace.

“Lena-” Kara whimpered, pained at the sudden loss of closeness.

“Open your present, Kara.” Lena repeated, jerking her chin towards the sofa where the roughly wrapped present lay.

“I… okay…” Kara replied, watching Lena closely as she tried to make sense of Lena’s clear request. Kara walked cautiously over to the couch, picking up the gift with gentle hands. “Did you wrap it yourself?” Kara asked, her entire expression brightening as she stared down at the crooked, over sellotaped wrapping.

Lena harrumphed at the question, pursing her lips.

“You did, didn’t you?” Kara teased.

“The present isn’t the piss poor wrapping.” Lena replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes that had the corners of Kara’s lips quirking even further upwards.

“Lena Luthor wrapped my present herself…", Kara whistled in awe, blue eyes twinkling with true delight for the first time that day, "what better gift is there?”

“Open it and you might find one.” Lena said, heart leaping into her throat as Kara’s deft fingers found a line of wrapping paper she could tuck them under.

The sound of paper ripping was deafening in the stillness; all Lena could do was watch and wait.

The paper fell away leaving behind a small black box, Kara shot Lena a hesitant look and it wasn’t until Lena nodded for her to continue that Kara clicked it open.

There was a pause.

A heavy, endless pause in which Lena couldn’t bring herself to even breathe.

“What is-” Kara began before cutting off immediately as she lifted up the beautiful bracelet made of nth metal and inscribed with ‘stronger together’ in Lena’s own cursive handwriting in both english and kryptonian.

The bracelet shined under the lights in Lena’s office, but in Lena’s opinion, Kara’s eyes shined impossibly brighter.  

“You’re in love with me.” Kara whispered, seeing the present for everything Lena had hoped it would convey.

“Yes.” Lena confirmed because there was no hiding it now.

With trembling fingers Kara clasped the bracelet onto her wrist, long fingers tracing the words delicately inscribed with no small amount of wonder. Finally, she turned around and stared at Lena with so much sheer love that the youngest Luthor felt overwhelmed and like her heart might burst right out of her chest in its desire to be in Kara’s possession

Clearing her throat and clasping her hands behind her back, Lena gathered her courage and asked, “If I promise you I’ll remember it and that I am fully consenting… will you kiss me now?”

Kara was in front of her in the literal blink of the eye, hands reaching out to cup Lena’s cheeks as Lena’s hands moved to rest on Kara’s hips gently encouraging their bodies closer with a light tug.

“There is nothing I want more.” Kara assured with the widest grin that Lena had ever seen and couldn’t help but return.

Their first kiss could barely count as a kiss.

Their smiles were too wide to allow for it, but Lena wouldn’t change it even slightly. They pressed their smiles against one another, teeth knocking together and noses brushing.

It may not have been a successful kiss but it was tender and filled with so much joy that Lena wouldn’t describe it as anything less than perfect.  

Their second kiss was an actual kiss, lips slotting together, tongues seeking each other out and teeth tugging whimpers and moans from one another in an endless cycle.

Their second kiss turned into a third, a fourth, a fifth.

They kissed until the sun rose.

Kissed until their lips ached and any remaining doubts Lena may have had were pushed back into the shadows by the light of Kara’s smile and blue eyes.

[raggaraddy]

Discipline- Hyung Line

How and why would Yandere Bangtan punish you?

Trigger warnings: Mentions of violence, mentions of abuse, descriptions of unhealthy relationships.

Alpha!Namjoon

You would find it hard to get Namjoon to react impulsively or rashly. There might be the odd look or feeling you get from him when you say or do something that he disapproves of, but he will never raise his voice or strike you. He is much too controlled for that.

However, that does not mean that your actions would not have repercussions. From the first day when he met you, he made sure to install a clear series of causes and effects. They came so gradually and his reasoning was so irrefutable that while the original you would have been disgusted at the idea of being treated like this, the you that Namjoon has crafted finds his rules and actions reasonable and necessary. They are set for your own well-being.

If you didn't eat well or drank too much, of course, Namjoon was going to scold you. He's just showing how much he cares.

You also need to be corrected when you're rude or disrespectful. Namjoon is an Alpha after all and he deserves your respect. A smart mouth, bad language, or disrespectful behaviour will earn you a time out to reflect on your choices.

And if you're bold enough to leave the house without him or without informing him, then he's made sure you know what consequences to expect. Sure, being bent over his lap like a petulant child is embarrassing, but Namjoon has shown you what kind of creatures exist in the world. It's your Mates' duty to remind you to be more mindful. Even If that means he covers you in bruises from time to time.

For every undesirable action, there exists a correction. All rules and guides are clear so you have no room to argue. If you happen to stumble into a grey area Namjoon will kindly explain your wrongdoing and inform you of the result should you re-offend. He always takes the time to make sure you fully see his reasoning as he would never want you to think he is unjust.

Although, there is one exception to this. Nobody touches you. No one makes any sort of advances towards you and you certainly do not reciprocate or tolerate those actions. That is absolute.

Like I said, he would never hit you out of rage. Another person however would not be so lucky. If you ever wanted to see the full extent of an Alpha's power, just blush or smile when that cute delivery boy asks for your number. Sure, he might lock you in a room and throw away the key, but seeing an Alpha shift in an open plan office is a once in a lifetime event.

King!Seokjin

This is a tricky one to answer because Seokjin isn't looking for a rhyme or reason to hurt you. He just will regardless of any behaviour.

If there are little failures or mistakes he will certainly utilize them for the chance to be extra cruel, however as mentioned, he doesn't need them as justification.

There is still plenty you could do to madden him. He is a King first and foremost and he will not tolerate any kind of disrespect or disobedience. Doing so would absolutely be an easy start to evoking his anger.

Jin is also not impetuous, everything he does, he does with purpose. So when he does hurt you in response to something you have done he can be truly poetic in the methods he chooses.

You dropped and smashed a cup? He'll use the pieces to cut you.

Did you interrupt him? He'll fill that mouth with one thing or another. Don't worry, he doesn't need you to speak anyway.

You did something as foolish as to refuse or fight him during one of your sessions? That's fine. The nearest servant will take your place. Let's see if you can endure their screams and cries, while he continually reminds them and you that their pain is your fault.

Assassin!Yoongi

How would he punish you? He has basically one method. Very simply, he would lock you away. He isn't looking to deal with any bullshit. So if you want to act up, fine. He'll just throw you in your room until he is ready to deal with you again. If you especially irritate him and he wants to make a point or really dissuade your behaviour from happening again he'll chain you in the basement. A two-meter chain, a toilet and a tap for water. With that and soundproof walls, he knows he'll have at least 2 weeks of quiet before you start to properly starve to death and he has to take you out.

Why would he punish you? That is less simple. His moods change too often for there to be any one answer.

You might have been too energetic, or maybe you weren't matching his excitement and it disappointed him. It could be that you were frustrating him by not participating and conversing when he wanted. Or maybe he was just feeling annoyed because he was hungry and tired.

Honestly, Yoongi doesn't know in the slightest what he wants, and while he doesn't truly expect you to be able to, he demands you anticipate his ever-shifting whims. He took you to be useful to him. So he sees it as your job to figure out what he wants, not his job to teach you.

Like when he told you he wanted you to be more proactive and initiate sex. That didn't mean that you could just choose any moment to come to him and offer to make the both of you feel good. No, it was important to wait until the exact moment Yoongi was also in the same temperament. And to make sure you approached him in the way he wanted. And to say the things he liked.

The only thing you can ever be sure of with Yoongi is that because you spend all your time trapped with only him, you will be locked away hating him while obsessing over ways to make him happy. Wishing you could be near him just to have some form of contact with another person.

On the rare occasions when you do see his true anger, it's good to keep in mind that he is a professional killer. He isn't phased with shooting you and leaving you to see if you survive.

Vampire!Hosoek

Like Jin, Hoseok is someone who revels in the pain and suffering of others. Hoseok however is less concerned with formality, obedience, or rules. Fight. Cry. Beg. Scream at him. Tell him how much you hate him, how much you wish he would die. He doesn't care. In fact, he enjoys it. It spurs him on.

There is nearly nothing you could do to truly anger him. Everything is a game for him, everything's fun. And you're his favourite toy. So when you fuck up, it's just another chance for him to play with you.

The only thing he is serious about, the only thing he is possessive of, is your blood. He has made it clear many, many times that that is his. His to drink and his to spill. Get so much as a papercut by yourself, or accidentally bite your tongue and he'll be utterly offended that you robbed him of something that should have been his. Not just the loss of blood either, but that he wasn't able to enjoy the sounds and faces you made as you injured yourself. And how dare you rob him of a moment that should have been his.

If any other person were to hurt you, purposefully or accidentally, or god forbid if any other Vampire tried to drink your blood.... well you would think Hoseok was downright gentle with you when you saw the things he did to them.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 13

Hello friends we have come to the end of Cult Girl. Thank you all for hyping me up throughout this story and giving me the confidence to actually post my work. Y/n and Hannibal throw a dinner party.

The sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the entire kitchen in that homey mid-morning glow. You were enjoying your coffee and scrolling through an article on your phone.

"Senator Hatch reportedly coughed up his late wife's toe on the floor of the precinct." You read out loud. "Huh. Wonder how that could have happened."

You side-eyed Hannibal, who was contentedly sharpening his knives. Placing a rather large meat cleaver to the side, he met your gaze. "I have my ways."

You finished off your coffee and brought the mug to the sink. "There was no way Theresa was going to survive that night, was there?"

"Clever girl." Hannibal praised.

"You were going to kill her if I didn't, were you?" You felt a smile coming on. "Did everything turn out as expected?"

"Darling, this all went much better than I could have ever hoped for." He smirked. "See, I had the whole evening mapped out. I was hoping you'd be the one to deliver justice and kill her, but I had to prepare for the possibility that you wouldn't."

You folded your arms and leaned against the island. "Is that why I was so sick that day?"

You could have sworn you saw some hesitation in Hannibal's face. Maybe even a touch of regret. "Yes. You needed an alibi. It was as easy as removing a single birth control pill from your packet. You'd see it was missing and think you'd already taken your medicine-"

"So I'd neglect to take my focus meds." You cut in. "Yeah, I knew something was off."

"By the end of the day, you'd be experiencing full withdrawal symptoms." Hannibal nodded. "I don't take any pleasure in upsetting the delicate balance of your brain chemistry, and for that I am sorry. I did what I had to."

"Yeah, don't ever do that again." You ordered, no disarming smile in sight. "I need those meds to function."

"I promise you, darling," Hannibal said, sincerely. "I would never keep you from being anything but your very best. I was just looking after you."

"I suppose now that all this is out in the open, you won't need to pull any shit like that again." You muttered. "But I'm still going to keep my pills at my apartment."

"That reminds me." He said. "Would you like to invite your roommates for dinner tonight? I've prepared a wonderful Spanish-inspired menu that's perfect for entertaining."

"I'd love for you to meet my friends, but, they all keep such weird hours I doubt they'll all be free tonight." You shrugged. "I'll give them a call though."

"Wonderful." He smiled. "You make arrangements while I prepare the kitchen."

You stepped into the office and called up Pilar. She answered within the minute.

"[F/N]!" She near shouted. "Holy fuck, how are you doing?"

"I'm actually doing..." you looked back into the kitchen, watching your beloved Hannibal in his element. "Really well."

"I heard about your cousin." Pilar cut in. "One down, two to go."

You snorted. "No fucking shit."

"Sorry, was that okay for me to say?" She apologized. "I know you said Theresa was a bitch, but it's your trauma and I-"

"No, you're fine." You laughed. "She was a bitch. Hey, do you have any plans tonight?"

"Uh, no. I don't think so." She answered. "Why?"

"Hannibal wants to invite you all for dinner tonight." You said with an audible smile. "Y'know, to celebrate the bitch's death."

"Yo! Steph!" Pilar shouted across the room. "Wake Randy up! We're having dinner at [F/N]'s rich boyfriend's house!"

You could make out Stephanie's voice in the background. "It's about damn time. We've been waiting for her to redistribute the wealth."

"She means thank you for the invitation." Pilar corrected.

"It's not like I had to twist his arm or anything. It was his idea." You chuckled. "He loves having guests. And excuses to dress up."

"Oh so we're getting fancy, huh?" Pilar's voice turned up in excitement.

"Hey [F/N]!" Randy snatched the phone from Pilar. "Text me the menu for tonight. My girlfriend'll steal a nice bottle of wine to pair. She's a pro, she works over at Cavatappi's wine and spirits."

"Much obliged, Randy." You said. "I'll see you guys at seven."

You returned to the kitchen with a smile. "They're coming."

"Well, we don’t have a moment to lose, then." Hannibal placed something wrapped in butcher paper on the counter. "Come now. Let me show you how to properly prepare a heart.

You and Hannibal spent the rest of the morning and the whole afternoon preparing a bountiful meal. You reveled in the irony of finally finding a space for Theresa in your life. That space just so happened to be on the stove.

Seven came far too quickly, but your friends were always a welcome sight. You greeted them at the door with hugs, Hannibal watching with stoic adoration.

"Guys, this is Hannibal Lecter, my partner." You introduced. "Hannibal, this is Pilar, Stephanie and Miranda."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ladies." Hannibal greeted. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

"Here you go, Dr. Lecter." Randy handed him a bottle of wine. "Thank you for inviting us."

Hannibal examined the bottle. "Yes, this will pair quite nicely with our meal. Thank you very much. [F/N], could you show our guests to the dining room?"

You nodded and accepted the bottle, given the extra responsibility of pouring. You led your friends to the dining room and wasted no time distributing the alcohol.

"A toast." Stephanie rose her glass. "Too many of history's worst have had the privilege of dying on their own terms. Today, we celebrate the death of one who didn't: Theresa [L/N]."

"She will join her sisters Nancy Reagan and Madame Nhu in hell tonight." You concurred, tapping your glasses together with a series of satisfying clinks.

"Okay, you need to spill." Randy scooted her chair up and leaned towards you. "How the hell did you get away with it?"

"Well, it helped a lot that her husband was already a felon." You teased. "If I didn't kill her, he was going to eventually."

Pilar made a face. "I can't believe it took actual murder to get that latter-day lump thrown in prison."

"Well, the LDS church is a very influential organization with a stronghold on all of Utah." You explained. "There's a long history of legitimizing sex abuse there."

"We know, cult girl." Stephanie laughed. "You remind us every time your pedophile cousin-in-law comes up. Relax and take your victories where you can get them.” 

“Ladies,” Hannibal entered. You rushed to his side to help him with the dinner plates. “Have we ever tried organ meat before?” 

Everyone’s eyes found Pilar. 

“Braised liver is delicious and you guys are just cowards.” Pilar protested. “I will die on this hill.” 

Hannibal smiled and presented your friends with their plates. “You are a woman of good tastes, Pilar. Our first course is Riñones al Jerez.” 

“Kidneys.” Randy translated. “Who’s kidneys are we eating today, Dr. Lecter?” 

He tilted his head. “Theresa’s, of course.” 

“I don’t care whose organs you harvested.” Stephanie said, her eyes rolling back into her head. “This is delicious.” 

You and Hannibal shared a glance and a smile. 

You and your roommates devoured the Riñones al Jerez, then dug into the next serving of heart stewed with chickpeas and olives. You finished off the evening with natillas de leche and a bottle of Sauternes Hannibal just happened to have lying around. 

“This is the first time since like, Keith Raniere got sentenced that I’ve seen [F/N] happy-drunk.” Stephanie observed.

“Or even just... happy." Pilar said, looking at Hannibal. "I'll have some of whatever she's having, please."

"My pleasure." Hannibal poured her another glass of wine.

Your phone began to buzz on the table, capturing the attention of your guests. You didn't even need to look at the caller ID to know who it was. Nobody else in the world had such horrid timing.

"Shit, you've got to answer it here!" Stephanie pleaded. "So we can all give her a piece of our mind!"

You looked over to Hannibal, who you knew was just as curious.

You dragged the answer icon across the screen and put it on speaker. You gestured for your friends to be quiet. "Yeah?"

"Well look who finally decided to pick up." Grandma said. "Thank you for gracing me with your attention. I know you have so much going on right now, you're just too busy to pick up the phone and talk to your grieving grandmother."

"For your information..." you stumbled over your words. "I was interrogated by the police yesterday. I think that counts as having something going on."

"Are you drunk?" Her voice was laced with a disproportionate level of disgust.

"I'm grieving too, Beatrice." You counter. "What, suddenly you're the only one who can drink the pain away? That's not very democratic of you."

"In your state, you shouldn't even be thinking of alcohol!" Grandma scolded. "You of all people should know the effects alcohol has on an unborn baby."

You smacked yourself on the head. Of course Theresa would plant a seed to fuck you over one last time. "Did Theresa actually tell you I was pregnant?"

"It was her last message to me, actually. Anyway, you're coming home." Grandma said, without so much as waiting for a response. "I won't have my great grandchild living in that dangerous city that your cousin was killed in."

You exchanged looks with your friends, who were going through the same combination of emotions as you were. Grandma's words just seemed to fade out as you shared an entire nonverbal conversation with the people around you.

"And you're leaving that terrible, terrible man."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow and looked at you, waiting to see how you'd respond. You knew what you had to do. It was finally time. You did something you should have done a long time ago.

"No." You said, your nerves loosened by the wine.

"What?"

"No. And I mean it." A big smile crossed your lips. "Theresa lied to you. I'm not pregnant. And you have to live with the fact that your granddaughter's last words to you were a blatant lie."

Hannibal looked at you with pride and your friends began to silently gas you up with encouraging gestures. "

"...And that you're the only one to blame for her deception." You continued. "You raised her in your own image."

"This is why I refuse to let you raise my great grandchild with that man!" She wailed. "He's twisted your mind against me! He's made you cruel!"

"Hannibal made me see clearly that you made me cruel." You said with absolute certainty. "You'll never see me again."

"Don't be like your mother, [F/N]." Grandma snarled. "Don't cut people out for trying to help."

"You'll never see me again." You repeated and decided to leave it at that. You ended the call and blocked the number, joined by an eruption of excitement from your friends.

It was finally over. Your life could truly begin.

[yostresswritinggirl]

It is time. This took a while but I figured I should give you guys the closure you've wanted, even tho uh it's not really a closure lmaooo. Here's the first part for the new readers!

Xiao's Personal "Chef" Travel Edition

Xiao with a Reader who is not only his Personal Chef but assistant, adventuring together

General/Preparation

A visionless chef with an adeptus by their side, going in a routeless journey together to savor the world that had once been pulled away from their grasps.

It must be the cause of the recent ressurection and defeat of the Lord of Vortex, immobilizing him once more for thousands of years. And in the window time, there would be less worries for the Qixing and Liyue Adepti to worry about. Think of it as a day-off for the Adepti, and a vacation for you.

While you carry with you no traces of elemental blessings and an enthusiasm for swordplay, the blessed Sigil of Permission given to you by your adeptus (whom claimed it was created by Rex Lapis himself before his untimely death) grants you a special connection with Xiao.

Sadly a vacation from Liyue does not mean a break from the constant voices of demons within Xiao's mind. And you've prepared him the medicine necessary to soothe his mind even if temporary, three bottles to be exact, all of which can last him several months.

He looks at you with confusion and silent question, of which you waved away because you had prepared this batch in your room in the Inn to make sure he doesn't run out of stock.

He doesn't tell you this but lately the voices had been not intrusive while he gets distracted by your presence. Like a soothing balm, to numb the effects of the pain. It's still there but not as annoying.

Your adventure or journey usually lingers around Liyue for the first parts of it, looking around the nation to enjoy the sceneries without thinking about errands or protecting the villages from impending doom.

Xiao already uh announced his indefinite leave to the other adepti beforehand, but well, when you wanted to visit their domains, which you countered was PERFECTLY safe (almighty Sigil of Permission has lots of perks) it was a very awkward time for him upon meeting them again. It was inevitable because of the energy the sensed from Xiao and your Sigil.

"Hello again, Guardian Yaksha, were you not on leave?" "Y-Yeah... we're just... passing through"

Field trip with the Adepti!!!! Moon Carver and Mountain Shaper brought you around their domains as if to test you, like Ganyu's trials, while also flexing their achievements and who has the best domain. Humans are rare, but you are a mortal who carries the last blessed Sigil and you're tamed in the ways of the adepti because of your exposure to Xiao.

Cloud Retainer not only teaches you the glory of gliding, but she also has cute and embarrassing stories of Xiao from way back! Xiao is in the background trying not to scream or rage at the ensemble in front of him-

"He really likes collecting Qingxin flowers, always bringing one whenever he comes back from his exterminations. He even offers one to Morax everytime." "Yes, yes, such flowers grow common before, right?" "Wha- (Y/N), what do you think you're writing down in that book?!"

"The devoted that carries the last essence of Morax's powers. We've heard much about you from your adeptus, it is relieving to finally put a face to your name. Tell us, child, what is it that you seek in our domain?"

They pretty much just outted that Xiao talks about you to the others, and he- he's just so done. He's either going to hide, leave the area or pull you out of the conversation before someone *coughCloudRetainercough* starts embarrassing him in front of you.

Once you've gotten the supplies you wanted to collect from Liyue's wild lands, like flowers or ores, your little party will start going further away from the familiar nation.

Comfort on the Streets

Being the chef in the party, a lot of the time, resource collection stops you short from travelling despite the many prepped ingredients you had carried with you. There's a lot of things laying around and you just couldn't let such opportunities go. Your adoptive mother Verr had taught you to indulge in your curiousities, as a mother, as a traveler, and as a cook.

Xiao takes the brute force, the frontline of being the tank and general fighter of your band. He indulges himself with unhinged strength so long as he was sure that you were perfectly safe from his own barrage of offense. You think in the back of your mind that he's enjoying the exterminations but in his mind he indulges himself with your cheers and praises after fending off some pesky slimes that strayed too close to your temporary camp.

Xiao does not need rest and barely breaks a sweat but you're quite fragile of a human being, you still need rest and consumables, things that you had the luxury of despite working in the Inn. Here you were alone to carry your own weight and care for yourself. You look up from the boiling pot that was settled over the bright campfire to see Xiao's figure coming into view, a freshly killed boar in hand as some kind of offering for your sacred stomach.

You guess now the caring isn't one-sided.

When taking things into careful detail that requires precision and undivided attention, it seems the voices of the demons and revelled gods in the depths of his mind disappears, more so under the presence of you.

So it was the perfect opportunity now that no other errands hold you back, to teach Xiao how to make the infamous Almond Tofu.

When you teach him survival he takes into consideration everything despite the bored/blank face he dons.

Oh but he still prefers your way of cooking, he can never get the same soft texture of the jelly that you easily make.

Xiao doesn't really need to eat but he's glad to be your taste-tester for the new dishes you cook from the random, probably edible, ingredients you find here and then.

The stew continued to boil with bubbles popping despite the fire under it extinguished for a while now. It was an unnamed soup you concocted from the various seafood you've gotten from the ocean paired with the meat the adeptus hunted.

It was delicious. Despite being a palette he was not used to, it was something he can stomach. And despite the different meat mixed in, the flavours didn't clash like he thought it would but instead blended the tastes quite well. Xiao hums as he sips the soup politely, tilting the bowl as he gulps down.

"It is manageable, despite your first try, I can see this being sold in one of the restaurants in Liyue Harbour-" he turns to you as he proceeds to hold out his bowl for seconds when he stopped in his tracks, eyes slightly widening a crack at the sight of tears free falling off your chin.

The spoon on your hand was slack, eyes distant yet dilated as you silently cried. When you felt the glove of his hand cup your cheek, tilting your head to make you face him, your expression cracked to that of grief melded with forced laughter. "It's... it's just like what mum used to make." You sob, and his hand wavered from its touch.

Travelling reopened old wounds. For you and for him.

Xiao doesn't NEED sleep nor does he WANT it, despite the many times you had caught him dozing off in the middle of the day during your work at the Inn. Such occasions usually meant that there was an event that needed his aid the night prior.

Your guardian yaksha usually stays up to keep watch and when you wake up, you would find him spaced out or in the brink of passing out, desperately holding himself together

But there are other times when he feels more restless and not content with just standing guard to make sure you are protected—

Those moments are when you are held in his arms, him resting against a tree and you resting against his lean chest, travel blanket laid over the both of you. When the terrain allows it, the sleeping bag would be under your bottom and legs for extra comfort.

When you can't rest, he whips out his flute to play you a soft tune hoping to lull you to sleep. If he sinks into the comfort of the mood, he'll continue playing much softer to prevent waking you up so early

But the guardian yaksha can buckle at the temptation of comfort, a humanistic desire fuelled by the assurance that in his arms you are absolutely safe-

And you two lay under the stars in peaceful slumber. Good night~

Combat-side of Travelling

Kicking the bottom shaft of the jade spear, Xiao swiftly catches it with his other hand, a small smile aimed for himself at the expert action before he raises his eyes back at you where you lay splayed on the floor. Drenched in your own sweat and desperately breathing. A long, wooden stick discarded by your side.

You pried your eyes open when the rays of the sun suddenly stopped invading through your thin eyelids, the shadow of the Yaksha looming over your form with a rare triumphant smirk. "Yeah, yeah, I know what you're gonna say-"

"I told you so."

"Oh hush you!"

His soft laugh was melodic and it made you break a smile despite the exhaustion.

We've already established beforehand that Xiao is your main dps here and you're just support/utility. But you've expressed your desire to AT LEAST pick up some weight, asking the man to help you hone your weapon proficiency, even if you knew he'd decli-

He accepts. Oh. But it's not about swords sadly, it's for polearms. Since it's the weapon he uses, it's the only thing he can teach you.

Will be CONSIDERABLY gentle in training you compared to his massacres, and will be ever so patient so long as progress is made. Surprisingly, Xiao is actually a really good teacher, and you'd find his points to be precise and on the spot.

He'll be there on the side as you try to fight off a hydro slime for the first time, with the aid of your cheap spear you both from the nearest town over. If you get cornered, he'll be there to instantly swoop in. Fortunately you managed, and he gave an approving nod.

Despite his acceptance to teach he's not gonna let you fight actual threats because he doesn't wish to risk your safety. And you're still gonna be a hundred feet away as he does his job

If he ever managed to hurt you himself, it's... it's not gonna be good, not good at all for the both of you... luckily that hasn't happened! Uh, yet lol

Just admire him from afar, he looks pretty anyways, although the black particles that seem to surround him before the end of the fight

But he'll always come back to you, with a slight limp you always notice despite his attempts to hide, and you'll be there to heal him up

Like a knight to his princess? Or healer, more so

And the process rinses and repeats at your generally peaceful trip

"Oh, oh, I see it! Uuup there!"

His honey amber eyes follow where your fingers point, high and up against the cliff until he sees the glimpse of the swaying violetgrass. No orders needed to tell him what the objective is, but as you place your hand on his elbow when he was about to leap, you had different plans.

"Woohoo!" Please be careful, he shouts in his head as you rode the tides of his Anemo currents, gliding over to where the violetgrass awaits for your plucking hands. When the glider retracts as you grip the cliff face, you broke the stem of the flora. A eureka in your voice as you held it up like a treasure before pushing yourself off the cliffside.

The wind on your back was not harsh, carefully constructed and maneuvered as you seemingly float down into the arms of the awaiting Yaksha, as per routine of your retrieval, "Thank you!"

"Is it in good condition?" It didn't bother you that he has yet to put you down, nodding with a grin as you gently waved the perfectly grown violetgrass in your hand. Satisfied, he turns around to go back to your route when

golden, brown and white silhouettes entered your peripherals among the turn.

"Eh?"

"Ah?"

"Traveler, Paimon and Zhongli?"

"Well, it is the most intriguing that we meet again this far out and in such a circumstance, Xiao and (Y/N)."

Party gained 2 ½ members!

I noticed upon writing that after you started travelling with Xiao, the formality in your tone of speaking started to dissipate. Easing into the comforts of your relationship with him, Xiao is relieved.

@kookieyachi @moaa @dandelion-dreams @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @witchsungie

[may-fanfic]

Hiya,may I request romanoff!reader (of course lol) like she's a civilian and no one really knows apart from a few that nat even has a daughter to keep her safe. So Nat finds out that she's started dating this amazing girl she met (maybe like a book shop) so surprise surprise the day Nat visits she finds out yn has a date and the door knocks sp Nat decides to open it, not expecting Wanda to be there, both shocked as hell till its reveled wanda is the date and nat is her mum :D please and thanku x

Broken Agreements 

summary: when Natasha had you, she kept you out of the public eye but one day you go out and meet someone unbeknownst to you, your mom and wanda already know each other 

warning: none, correct me if I'm wrong 

paring: wanda maximoff x reader, mom!nat x reader

word count: 2,062 

a/n: sorry this took so long, I wasn’t home for a couple of days but I hope you enjoy 💕

((feel free to send in any request you may have 💕))

masterlist

---------

when Natasha had you, she knew that it was the best bet to keep you out of the public eye. it wasn't that she wanted to keep you locked up in the house all day but she knew there were far too many risks when it came to introducing you.  it was easy for her to keep you in her sight when you were younger but the older you got, you began to crave more than just visits to Clint's house. she secretly hated that you were older now because she knew you need more and when you uttered that out to her, she couldn't stand the puppy dog eyes you were giving her. "okay fine." she rolled her eyes as you squealed, relieved that she was understanding enough. 

so with that, Natasha allowed occasional outings, warning you that you had a set time to be back because she couldn't stand the idea of you being alone in the middle of the night. you were understanding of that, promising that nothing would stop you from returning home before the sunset. 

---

Natasha was gone for the day, leaving just after she made you breakfast and despite promising your mom that you wouldn't leave without telling her first, you had just finished your last book. you wished that you picked an extra one-up the last time you were out because now boredom struck and you had nothing else to do. you knew you could make it back before your mom ever returned home so with that you dressed, checking the time before you went. 1:22 pm. you had more than enough time you reminded yourself with a small grin. 

knowing that you weren't allowed to be out, only made it more exciting. you hardly ever broke rules when it came to your mom, not only because she was intimidating but because you respected her and you knew she always had your best interest in mind. you finally reached your favorite book shop with a certain book in mind already you moved through the small shop. you browsed for a moment, not turning up with anything more interesting than the book that you saw last time. you knew exactly where it was because you knew that store like the back of your hand so you moved to the section you could find it, grinning when you saw that there was only one left. you hardly noticed the girl beside you until you reached forward to grab the book just as she did, her hand softly brushing against yours. you shyly retrieved your hand, your gaze fixed to the floor. "sorry." you uttered out causing the girl beside you to chuckle lightly. 

"it's okay," she reassured, nudging you lightly with said book causing you to look up at her, only now taking note of her breathtaking features. you could feel your heart pound in your throat as you swallowed hard, she had been smiling sweetly at you, far more relaxed than you. "here, take it." she offered but you quickly shook your head. "you can have it, I'll wait for the restock," you muttered despite, really wanting to read that exact book. she shook her head, her smile growing with every passing second. 

"I couldn't," she muttered, extending her hand forward for you to take the book but when you didn't move a muscle, the girl sighed, the smile still prominent on her lips. "how about this-" she paused for a moment when she noticed that she had peeped your interest. your eyebrows rose in question waiting patiently for her proposal. "I'll give you the book if you buy me a coffee," she stated, her smile growing when your cheeks seemed to flush over.  "it's only fair," she stated, shrugging lightly. 

you knew your mother always warned you about strangers but your interest in the young woman had been strong and you couldn't help but wanna get to know her more so with a nod, you took the book from her hand, letting her follow you through the shop and out the door. 

she uttered out her coffee order to you, smiling when you moved to go to the counter. she called out that she'd find both of your seats. you could feel your heart pound as you made your way over to the table that she settled down on, placing her mug right in front of her. she had been looking through the book, setting it aside when you came to greet her. "you're gonna like the book." she whispered causing you to nod lightly. 

"I hope so, I've been meaning to buy it," you stated, her expressions had been soft as she brought the hot mug to her lips, looking over at you from over the top of it. once the awkwardness of the situation died down, the conversation seemed to flow naturally and you noticed that you were losing all of yourself in the conversation, time hadn't been a thing. 

realization seemed to dawn on you when the shop owner announced that they'd be closed in less than 5 minutes and then your heart sunk and you felt the nervousness eat at your once joyful mood. "I had a really good time, wanda but I gotta go," you whispered suddenly noticing that the sunset and the street were lit up by the streetlights, there hadn't been a sign of sun anywhere. "let me take you home." she offered but you knew your mom would throw even more of a cow if she knew you gave your address to a stranger. "thank you but I'm okay." before wanda could even completely process what happened, you were gone. 

you looked at your watch, reading the time only made you feel so much worse. 8:56 pm. you let out a soft sigh, rushing home as quickly as possible. you were breathing heavy and hard when you finally made it to your house, hoping that the redhead was still stuck at work. 

you opened the door after catching your breath, meeting the faces of every Avenger. they had all been like uncles to you but you'd never seen them all in the same room, suited up before. it made you feel guilty, you knew you had worried them before you could even talk, Natasha rushed over to you, her fear outweighed any anger she felt because you were okay and that's the most important thing to her. "oh my god! where were you? what would you thinking?" she rambled, tugging you into a tight hug that you melted into, feeling yourself relax because she wasn't as mad as you thought. 

you spoke too soon because as soon as she pulled away from the hug, you could see her relieved expression turn into pure anger because how could you leave and have her worry like that? 

"what were you thinking, Y/n Romanoff?" the use of your full name made your eyes widen as you stared back at the woman who gave you life. "I wanted a book." you stated softly causing a huff to slip past her lips. "you couldn't pick up your phone? that's why you have it y/n! I called at least a hundred times!"

your gaze snapped from her eyes to the floor, finding it to be the most interesting thing right about now. "I even had to call uncle tony, steve, and bruce. you know how worried you made us?" you swallowed hard, hating the feeling of disappointment. "don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" she lectured causing you to mutter out a soft 'yes ma'am'. 

"go to your room." she was done as she turned away from you, you didn't think twice before speed walking up those stairs and into your room.

 it only now dawned on you that you didn't get the girl's number. the only proof of your day was the book and coffee receipt. sighing softly, you set the paper aside, taking a seat on the foot of your bed, staring down at the book in disappointment. it wasn't until you flip open the book and settled on the front page did the lecture you received from your mom seem worth it because on the paper, neat handwriting could be made out. you smiled down at it, feeling your heart skipped a beat tracing the words with your pointer finger. 

I still want the book, call me when you're finished - wanda 

you smiled down at the number in disbelief, determined to finish the book as quickly as possible so you could call wanda. 

you read the book much faster than expected, you were eager to finish it and when you finally called wanda to tell her that she could have the book, muttering about how good you thought it was, she had been grinning madly because almost every day she waited by her phone hoping and praying that it'd ring and now she could hear your voice so clearly. she didn't hesitate to cut you off about the book and ask you on a date. 

-----

as much as you enjoyed having your mom around, you were glad when she told you she'd be out that day because it gave you the chance to invite wanda over for dinner. wanda happily accepted the invite, glad that she would finally spend some alone time with you. 

for the past couple of months, you’ve had occasional meet-ups at coffee shops and restaurants but Wanda always wanted more and now she had been given exactly what she wanted. she couldn't be more excited. 

your excitement seemed to wear off when your mom arrived home much early than expected, questioning you about the candles and seemingly put-together dinner. your eyes flushed over, stumbling over your words when you told her you had a date and thought she'd be out much longer. she wiggled her eyebrows at you, a smirk playing on her lips. she knew that you had been involved with someone because one day after returning from a date with wanda, you had been too giddy and couldn't hold back when she asked you why you were so happy. 

"I can't wait to finally meet this mystery girl." she teased, smiling at the redness in your cheeks. you knew she'd met her eventually but you were still nervous, your mom had always been a hard person to please and you wanted her to like Wanda as much as you did. 

when the knock at your door sounded, your mom's eyes met yours, her grin grew even more. "I got it," she spoke, her voice filled with excitement before you could even stop her from opening the door, she had already been there, turning the doorknob with ease. you took a couple of steps forward to stand behind your mom so the girl didn't feel too bombarded. 

when the door was pulled open, her smile was the first thing you saw, and then it was the flowers she held, you could feel your heart swoon but then you noticed the way her smile dropped when she looked at your mom, confusion written in her expressions. "Wanda?" Natasha uttered out as she looked over the girl intensely enough to make the girl's gaze drop to the ground. "what are you doing here?" your mother questioned as she stared blankly at the youngest Avenger. "I'm here for-"

"you know each other?" you suddenly questioned, looking between wanda and your mom. you searched their faces for an answer but turned up with nothing until your mom spoke softly. "she's been recruited." that was enough for you to know exactly what your mom meant. 

Natasha couldn't be upset at Wanda, there was no way she could've ever known that you were her child and if she was honest, she was glad wanda turned up instead of an unfamiliar face. "come in, wanda." your mom's voice came out gentle and almost reassuring. 

"aren't you supposed to be on lockdown?" she questioned once wanda had entered and taken her coat off, holding the roses tightly in her hands. 

it finally occurred to Natasha why the witch was never around. every time they had been looking for wanda, she was with you. 

"cap let me out for the day." she lied causing Natasha to raise an eyebrow at the teenager but she didn't press. "lockdown for what?" you stared up at the witch, feeling like you knew absolutely nothing about her. wanda hated the way you were looking at her. she opened her mouth to talk but was quickly cut off by your mom's soft voice. 

"that's not important, babes." but it felt pretty important to you and Natasha knew you wouldn't drop it. "I'm gonna head out," she spoke softly, offering the both of you a smile. she knew you'd both have a lot to talk about and she wanted nothing to do with that. 

once the door closed, you turned to wanda with a wary look on your face. "I was gonna tell you." her words had been shaky, her gaze struggled to meet yours but she still did. wanda had looked beautiful that night all dressed in a flowy red dress. "why didn't you?" you questioned, a frown taking over your lips as she breathed out a sigh. 

"I didn't want to ruin things. you're the only person who's ever really seen me for who I am and I was scared you wouldn't look at me the same," she confessed and you couldn't be mad at Wanda so instead you nodded, looking at the roses that she had a tight grip on. 

"are those for me?" you asked softly, her usual smile tugging at her plump lips, her cheeks turning bright pink. she extended her hand, her smile only growing when you took them, along with her hand leading her through the house and to the dining room. as you did so, wanda couldn't help but swoon. she was relieved that nothing really changed and you'd still have you at the end of the day. 

she didn't know what she was worried about before, it was clear that you were different. 

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

We Were Something, Don’t You Think So? [Chapter 2: The Middle Of Nowhere]

You are a Russian Grand Duchess in a time of revolution. Ben Hardy is a British government official tasked with smuggling you across Europe. You hate each other.

This is a work of fiction loosely inspired by the events of the Russian Revolution (1917-1923) and the downfall of the Romanov family. Many creative liberties were taken. No offense is meant to any actual people. Thank you for reading! :)

Song inspiration: “the 1” by Taylor Swift.

Chapter warnings: Lots of shouting, if you never learned about the Russian Revolution then here's your mini crash course, references to historical stuff like violence and disease, Kroshka the mule emerges as the only emotionally stable character.

Word count: 4.1k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

Taglist: @imtheinvisiblequeen @okilover02 @adrenaline-roulette @youngpastafanmug @m-1234 @tensecondvacation @deacyblues @haileymorelikestupid @rogerfuckintaylor @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @mo-whore

I wake up feeling harder, as if sleeping on the ground with all its stones and cool indifference has taught my spine to straighten, to endure. This is a welcome revelation. I will need to be resilient, for my family and for myself. I also wake determined to set things right with my rescuer. I am a perfectly charming person, Mother and Papa have always said so; I’m not painfully shy like Olga, or aloof like Tati, or rather dull like Maria, and I certainly don’t run around putting frogs in people’s shoes like Anastasia. I make for excellent company. Surely Ben will realize this and we will become inseparable travel companions.

Outside in the overcast brisk morning air, Ben is already busy tacking the mule. He glances over and tosses me an apple. It bounces out of my floundering hands and rolls off into the woods. This is not an auspicious start to the day.

“You’ll still have to eat that,” Ben says. “There’s no extra food. I was only able to ask for as much as I could justify needing myself.”

“Right.” I go fetch the apple—rummaging around in leaves and sticks and shrubs—and take a bite, even though it’s bruised and definitely tastes like dirt. I beam at Ben triumphantly. I am tough! I am daring! I am enchanting! I can pull my own weight on this journey!

Ben doesn’t seem to notice. He pats the mule’s thick brown neck and smiles fondly at her. “How are we feeling this morning, Kroshka? Hmm? Who’s a lovely mule? Who’s going to take us all the way to the Trans-Siberian Railroad without even one measly word of complaint? That’s right, you are! Yes you are!” He lands a smacking kiss on the velvety grey fur of her muzzle.

I attempt polite conversation; more than that, I endeavor to learn about my dashing yet evasive rescuer. “So, tell me Ben, have you worked for Sir Buchanan long?”

“Four years,” Ben replies curtly.

“And you are…” I think of his notebook. “A…writer of some sort for him…?”

“I’m his press attaché.”

“Ah.” I recognize the French word for ‘attach,’ but not its meaning in the context of employment with an ambassador. “I can’t say I know what that entails.”

“I handle Sir Buchanan’s relations with the Russian newspapers. Drafting statements and briefing him on local opinions and the like. And since his health has declined, I find myself delivering some of his particularly confidential correspondence.”

“Oh, I see. And he could spare you for this mission? It seems like a burden that would be better carried by a man with military or exploratory experience.”

“My Russian is passable. And I can tolerate rougher conditions than most.” He points to a pile of clothes he’s laid out on a tree stump. “Those are for you. There’s a stream out that way.” He flicks a thumb towards the east. “Get ready however you need to, but be prepared to leave in fifteen minutes.”

I examine the clothing: plain and practical undergarments, a heavy wool sweater, stockings, boots, and something unexpected. I hold them up with clammy hands. “These are…” I swallow noisily. “Trousers.”

“Yes. They’re travel attire. Comfortable and easy to maneuver in if we need to move quickly.”

“I’ve never worn trousers before.”

“I thought you were amenable to a…a…what did you call it? An adventure. A grand adventure.” He says this melodramatically, like there’s some humor in it. Like he’s mocking me.

“I suppose I am,” I mutter, still scrutinizing the trousers.

“Fifteen minutes,” Ben reminds me sternly. Then he begins to disassemble the tent.

I trudge off through the woods until I find the stream. I clean myself with ice-cold water, drink it down until my teeth ache, change out of my nightgown and into these strange new clothes—Trousers! Mother would lock me in church for a month!—and gaze up into the cloudy, pastel blue sky that peeks between the fingers of the trees. It is very still here, and cold, and deathly quiet. I try to remember the last time I was truly alone, without Mother or Papa or my siblings or servants or guards within shouting distance. There is none that I can remember; perhaps there is none at all. Out here in the Siberian wilderness I feel unmoored from civilization, diminutive, vulnerable, peculiarly inconsequential. I decide I don’t like being alone. By the time I return to our campsite, Ben is ready and waiting beside the loaded cart. His right hand is resting on a clunky metal monster with ‘Olivetti’ written on it.

“I’m a press attaché,” he says with a mischievous grin. “And you’re a typist.”

“A what?”

“You work for Sir Buchanan’s office as a typist. That’s our story, anyway. You came along to assist me during my audience with the former tsar, and now we’re traveling back to Sir Buchanan’s headquarters in Saint Petersburg. So if anyone happens to ask, that’s what you are to tell them. Oh, and you’re British. Your English sounds clean enough.”

“Alright,” I reply, still gaping at the metal monster like a black box with gnashing fangs. “But what is that?”

Ben’s jaw falls open. “You don’t…?” Then he rubs his forehead, sighing deeply. “Jesus Christ. You’ve never used a typewriter. Of course you haven’t. Great. Fantastic.”

“We always write by hand. My penmanship is flawless, Mother saw to that.” She’s still battling with Anastasia, but that’s a war that may go on as long as the one between the sun and the moon.

“Okay. Okay. This works out, actually. Because I’m not going to entertain you all day. So here is your assignment.” Ben slaps the back of what he tells me is a typewriter, and then waves for me to come closer. He reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces a British passport. Every line is filled out except for the name. He slides the paper into the machine and makes some bewildering adjustments. “So, you insert the paper, set the carriage—that’s this roller-type piece here—and type.” He taps forcefully on the keys until two words appear in the blank reserved for the passport holder’s name: Lana Brinkley.

“That’s me?” I ask doubtfully.

Ben smirks, amused. “That’s you.”

“So you could have given me a better name if you wanted to!”

“But then how would you learn humility?” He removes the fraudulent passport, shakes the paper until it dries, folds it into a neat little square, and slips it back into his coat pocket. “If you’re typing a longer message, the typewriter will ding when you’ve reached the end of each line. Then you use the lever to move the paper down, reset the carriage, and resume typing.”

I nod, but without much confidence. This seems complicated.

“You said you wanted a carriage,” Ben teases.

“Yes, one with magnificent draft horses and velvet seats and preferably no less than two servants. Not…whatever that is.”

“Well, if you’re going to pass for a typist, I’m afraid you must learn to type.” He finds me a stack of blank paper in his collection of bags and trunks, and then climbs into the front of the cart as I get into the back. The trousers, I hate to admit to myself, do make it easier to move around, although I’m not sure I approve of how much they accentuate the shape of my body. The thought of Ben looking at me in them gives me a plunging sort of feeling that is half-mortification and half-thrill…not that he has exhibited any interest at all. “Before we go any farther, do you have anything with you that I don’t know about?”

He means things like the heirlooms I have squirreled away in the large steamer trunk: the jewels sewn into my dress, the photograph. I can sense that he wouldn’t want me to have them, although I’m not sure why. In any case, I have no intention of giving them up. The jewels are the only thing of value that I have to trade if we find ourselves in a desperate situation. The photograph is the only string left that connects me back to my family, my home. “No,” I reply primly.

“Good.” He whistles at the mule and she tugs us through the trees and out onto the dirt road that leads, eventually, to the train station. As we ride joltingly along, the creaky cart wheels bumping over every rock and mound and muddy trough, I practice my typing: very slowly at first, and with only my index fingers. I read aloud as I go, gradually picking up speed.

“There once was a German princess born in the Duchy of Hesse. She was very beautiful but very shy. She had a wonderful talent for playing piano, but would run and hide if anyone asked her to perform in public. One day, when she was attending the wedding of her sister, the princess met a prince from a distant kingdom. They were only children, but they instantly knew they had found true love. They snuck off together and carved their names into a window pane. Over the years, each conspired to marry the other. They refused many suitors and wrote each other hundreds of letters. His family did not approve of the princess’s religion and lack of charisma; her family did not approve of the prince’s distant and troubled nation. But at last it became apparent to all that no earthly forces could keep the couple apart. Ten years after their first meeting, the prince and princess were finally married. And they lived joyously and peacefully in each other’s service for the rest of their days.”

Ben lights one of his hand-rolled cigarettes. The smoke doesn’t bother me; on the contrary, it reminds me of Papa smoking his pipe in his study, in the garden, as he read to us by the fireplace, as he danced with Mother in ballrooms back when she could still dance. It reminds me of home. “I’m not sure if you’ll ever give Shakespeare a run for his money, but I’ll admit I’m marginally entertained.”

I smile to myself, sentimental warmth rising in my face. “It’s Papa and Mother’s story.”

“Huh. I didn’t know your people were allowed to marry for love.”

By ‘your people,’ he seems to mean royalty, and there is some derision in his deep voice. “Well, surely duty must come first. But when love can accompany it, that’s a happy coincidence.”

“And what if duty compels you to marry a man who is, say, cruel? Or dreadfully boring? Or in love with another woman? Or who closely resembles a mole-rat?”

I resume my typing with a new exercise. For each letter of the alphabet, I type a French word that begins with it. “I don’t think that sort of thing happens very often.”

“But if it did.”

I shrug, not especially enjoying this topic of discussion. “Then duty comes first, as I said. But I believe most royal couples are perfectly content. At least nine out of every ten.”

“That many!” Ben marvels sarcastically. “Have you ever considered that your own personal experience, as pleasant as it may be, could be coloring your perception of how the world works?”

I ignore him and continue my typing. Attaché for A, bisou for B, croissant for C, doux for D…

After a moment, Ben says: “You aren’t going to regale me with another fairytale? I’m devastated.”

“I’m busy practicing my French now. Please don’t intrude.”

“You speak French as well as Russian and English?” He sounds impressed; for a split second anyway, just long enough for me to catch it like a firefly in my fist.

“And Italian, and Latin. And I’ve just started on Japanese.”

“But no German? That seems like it would be an easier beast to slay.”

“I’ve always purposefully avoided learning it, even though Mother’s family is German. I never envisioned myself marrying a German. I figured Maria could take that bullet. She doesn’t care, she’d marry anyone who could give her a castle and ten babies and a bulldog or two. I would say she was a milkmaid in a past life, but Mother’s heart would stop dead if she thought I subscribed to reincarnation.”

“Not fond of Germans?” Ben asks. “Well, who can blame you. Half the world isn’t fond of them at the moment.”

“I suppose they weren’t so awful before the Great War. But they’re rather boorish, aren’t they? They always sound like they’re angry. Like someone just stole their horse and they’re screaming at them from the front porch to come back or else.” I smile dreamily as I type. “I’ve always fancied the thought of marrying a prince from a glamorous, romantic kingdom. Maybe Italy or Greece. There has even been talk of me marrying Uncle George’s eldest son David. He’s rather beguiling. Tall and slim. Clear blue eyes like a lake. And he’s going to be the king of the British Empire one day, you know. We could holiday together in beautiful, sunny colonies like the Bahamas.”

“You’re still as important as all that? Important enough to make a marriage of that political significance, I mean.” Ben glances back at me and lifts one thick, dark, inquisitive eyebrow. “Seeing as your family doesn’t have a kingdom anymore.”

This is an insensitive thing for him to say. I frown down at the typewriter. “A wife almost always assumes the kingdom of her husband, so why should she require her own? She needs only sound breeding and a suitable temperament. And besides, we might yet return one day.”

Ben twists all the way around to stare at me, the reigns falling out of his hands. Fortunately, the mule seems to know her own way around. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It has been a brutal few years. The Great War, the supply shortages, the bad harvests…the people are frustrated, and understandably so. They lashed out blindly, at those who didn’t deserve it, at us. But the dust will clear. And when it does, I think the Russian people will come to their senses and realize that they want us back. That they need us.”

“Are you insane?” Ben snaps. “Are you utterly brainless? What’s floating around in that skull besides fiction and languages you’ll never use once you’re married off to some prince who only sees you as a broodmare?”

“How dare you! You can’t speak to me like this—!”

“For years, for a bloody decade, Sir Buchanan warned your father about what was coming. He tried to get him to moderate his views, to give the people more voice in government, to stop murdering them when they protested. And when none of that worked and the end was apparent, Sir Buchanan tried to convince your father to abdicate long before he did. Don’t you understand?! None of this needed to happen! Your family could have fled to Britain years ago, before the animosity against your father spread like wildfire across the globe, and Russia could have established their own parliament like Britain’s and negotiated a peace treaty to stay out of the war and none of us would be here now if not for your father’s selfish, pointless obstinacy—!”

“My father is a good man,” I choke out as hot, furious tears burn in my eyes.

“And he was a terrible ruler!” Ben shoots back like artillery. “He ordered protesters to be butchered, he sent untrained boys to die in some other country’s war, he clung to the throne for no one’s benefit but his own—”

“And what about my benefit?” I demand, still weeping, feeling monstrously like a child. “What about my mother’s and my sisters’ and Alexei’s? He must have feared for our futures if we were dethroned and left without any resources, any security, anyplace to call home—”

“He did you no favors,” Ben says harshly. “Half the country—the country that you obviously have not even a rudimentary understanding of—are moderates scrambling to secure the Provisional Government and disentangle themselves from the war while still somehow preserving their dignity and that of the millions of dead soldiers Russia has already laid on the altar. The other half are trying to instigate a wholesale communist revolution. There is no one, no one, who wants the tsar back. And you better pray to God that the communists don’t manage to seize power before King George gets your family out, or your father just might be guillotined on the steps of Saint Basil’s Cathedral.”

I bolt to my feet unsteadily, grip the side of the lurching cart, and leap out onto the dirt road.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ben shouts after me.

I take off sprinting down the road, the wind whipping my face, sobbing as I run beneath the shadows of trees until my lungs are columns of flames and my legs feel wobbly and boneless. I can hear the pounding of the mule’s hooves approaching, the hurtling of wooden wheels, the slapping of leather reins. I am forced to slow to a vigorous march as my body betrays me, wheezing and aching and as ineffectual as a woman is so often assumed to be. The salacious trousers have come in handy once again. Who would have guessed.

Ben pulls up alongside me, reining in the mule to match my pace. “Hey! Get back in the cart!”

“I’ll walk the rest of the way to the railroad station.”

“It’s 200 more kilometers!”

“See you there.”

Now Ben jumps out of the cart. The mule, perplexed but not rattled, comes to a halt and waits in the middle of the road with her long ears angled in opposite directions. Ben rushes in front of me and leans down until we’re at eye-level, breathing heavily. I can smell smoke on him, and something else too: maybe cologne, maybe soap, maybe aftershave, maybe just the scent of a man in his prime. His lips are pink and full and soft-looking, I notice, as if for the first time. His cheeks are irritated and red from the wind; the ruthlessness of the climate here doesn’t agree with him. It is the only way in which I am stronger than he is. His green eyes are wide and blazing. “Get. In. The. Cart.”

“No,” I whisper, tears all over my face.

“You can’t just run off like that,” he pleads, less angry now. “Where are you going to go? There’s nothing out here except trees and…I don’t know…probably bears and wolves and maybe even Siberian tigers. You can’t get ripped apart by wild animals. Don’t you want to make it to London? To argue for your family’s liberation? They could find no fiercer advocate than you, of that I am convinced.”

“How would you possibly protect me from a bear?”

Ben unbuttons his coat and pulls up his white wool sweater to show me a pistol tucked into the holster clipped to his belt. “Just in case,” he says, smirking crookedly, lowering his sweater again. “Now I am keeping no secrets from you, and you are harboring none from me. We’re even.”

I nod, sniffling, thinking of my jewels and photograph hidden in the steamer trunk. My words are so strained I can barely hear them myself, my hands are trembling; hell, I’m trembling all over. The possibility is unimaginable. “Do you really think they’re going to kill Papa?”

Ben sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t,” he replies gently. “I think the Provisional Government will be able to keep the communists in check for now. I think they will leap at the opportunity to ship the former tsar off to Britain without the potential controversy of a trial and execution. And I also think we should get back in the cart and keep moving now.”

“I’m sorry your boss gave you this assignment and now you have to risk your life for a family that you evidently hate,” I lash out like a cornered animal, hissing and brandishing its glinting claws. “For a grand duchess that you hate. This must be an awful inconvenience for you.”

“It’s rather more complicated than that,” Ben says. “There’s some opportunity in it as well.”

Of course: his leather-bound notebook full of observations, his scrawled recollections to one day build into a famed article about our journey. An article full of what he truly thinks about me. I feel suddenly, violently nauseous. I feel horrified.

What happened to the grand adventure that I imagined? Where did it go?

And all at once, I can’t even remember how I pictured this journey unfolding; I can’t conjure up some rose-colored vision of me and Ben falling into an effortless friendship, flirting lightly and innocently, discovering new corners of the earth together, parting ways in London as lifelong confidants. Now I can only see Papa as he murmurs folktales older than Christianity with candlelight dancing on his smiling face, as he chases me and my sisters around the gardens with outstretched arms and sparkling eyes, as he carries Alexei from one room to the next when my brother’s joints are inflamed and excruciating and useless, as he never unburdens his mind to his wife or children but spends long afternoons chopping wood as the sun sinks into the west and the lines in his pale face grow deeper.

He couldn’t be responsible for bloodshed, for mercilessness. He’s not that kind of man. He’s never been that kind of man.

“We really should keep moving,” Ben prompts.

“Fine,” I fling back as I shove by him. I mop my tears away with the sleeve of my wool sweater, climb into the back of the wooden cart, and sit as far as I can from Ben with my bent knees hugged to my chest. I stare silently off into the forest as the mule drags us towards the Trans-Siberian Railroad, towards Moscow and Saint Petersburg and the Baltic Sea and London, towards the conclusion of this tenuous partnership and the redemption of my family. I am looking forward to soon never having to see Benjamin Hardy again, and yet I’m also not; and this is a difficult paradox to put into words of any language.

We don’t stop until it’s almost dusk. Ben hops down from the cart, leads the mule off the road by her bridle (and gives her an encouraging scratch on the forelock when she hesitates), and begins to set up camp in a small clearing encircled by heaps of frost grass. Dinner is loaves of bread again—even more tough and dry than yesterday—and metallic-tasting water from canteens. Dessert is a hand-rolled cigarette for Ben and a handful of honeyberries I found in the bushes for me. And when Ben grapples with the tent, I come over to help him with it just to prove I can.

Ben builds a fire, and we sit wordlessly on opposite sides of it with the reflections of flames in our eyes. Ben jots down today’s thoughts in his notebook, every so often glancing off into nowhere and tapping his chin thoughtfully with the end of his pen, biting his full lower lip absentmindedly as he sifts through the ocean of word in his head to fish out the right one. Meanwhile, I read my copy of Tarzan of the Apes. I stumble across a few English terms I don’t know—quixotic, cartography, constellations, ruminate—but I don’t ask Ben about them.

After a long time, when the moon and stars have emerged bright and ancient in the night sky, Ben closes his notebook and watches me. At first I ignore him. And then, eventually, I can’t anymore.

“What?” I ask irritably, keeping my place in Tarzan of the Apes with my pinky finger, which is nearly numb from the cold.

Ben’s words are calm, restrained, painstakingly chosen. Firelight is fierce and bloody on his face. “I had two infant brothers die of pneumonia, a perfectly preventable illness had they had access to good doctors and proper nutrition and a warm dry home, which they did not. I had a sister die in childbirth because there was no midwife available to attend to her. I have had friends come home from the war with limbs or half their faces missing, a fate which I myself am spared only because of my employment with Sir Buchanan. You have no idea what the world has been through while you were off playing board games and reading novels in greenhouses and lounging on lakeshores with your idyllic little family. You have no idea what life is like for the rest of us. And perhaps that’s not your fault, and it is unjust of me to resent you for it, and I must learn to temper this wrath I’ve been carrying around in my chest since childhood. But it’s still true.”

He stands, clutching his notebook with hands that are red from the savage Siberian wind, and vanishes into the tent.

[starstruck-shima]

❄️Kaeya meets a Bunny Girl Senpai❄️

Notes: Kinda crack, references to Kaeya’s backstory, fem reader, heavily based off of/inspired by Bunny Girl Senpai.

“In which Kaeya questions his sanity over a wild bunny girl that only he could see.”

Sometimes, he wonders if he’s finally lost it. After all those years of working in the knights, experiencing the shithole that was his early childhood, and the split that happened between him and the man he still saw as his sworn brother, you’d be pleasantly surprised to see how Kaeya still persevered and became the infamous cavalry captain we all know and love today.

And yet there he was, taking a double take on the sight before him during his rounds around the city. More specifically, the sight in question was that of a girl, just around his age--yet unlike him, who at least considered donning on some type of protective wear (wether it was for the weather or public decency, perhaps both), she opted for a less... conventional outfit. It was the bunny ears that really caught his attention though. 

He’s less intrigued by the black leotard, tights, and heels and more interested on who you are and why are you doing this. A wild bunny girl, with a vision strapped onto your collar too... you were most certainly a big deal. Yet why did no one bat an eye at you, or at least your appearance? 

“You’re staring.” Those were the first words you said to him, and Kaeya blinks--seeing bunny ears nearly obstruct his vision. You could talk. He’s either imagining things even more or it was a sign that you had a mind of your own. Either way, he’s still a bit taken aback. “Huh, you can still see me.”

“Forgive me, I just couldn’t help but notice you. What brings you to Mondstadt?” He tries to carry on a conversation--a surmise way for him to ease someone into at least spilling a bit of info on them.

Your next answer caught him off guard. “I live here.” That certainly raised his suspicions. He’s been patrolling around Mondstadt for years, to the point where he knows the familiar faces of regulars at the Angel’s Share bar, and even the names and schedules of the knights who guard the city walls. Who exactly were you? Perhaps you were new? But you didn’t look like an outsider either... you felt right at home in Mondstadt.

“I’m (Y/n) (L/n), part of the Knights of Favonius.” His eyes widened a bit at the revelation. You were part of the knights? “Forget what you saw today. Farewell.” Before he could inquire further, you had disappeared right there and then.

Kaeya takes it upon himself to immediately read up on you. Records, testimonies from fellow knights, checking your rank, asking Lisa, he did it all. His findings surprised him even more--not much was known about you, and from what he heard, you’ve barely even showed your face--or rather, not much have actually seen you around. Some can’t even recall your appearance. Yet the records state otherwise. You definitely existed. 

And so, Kaeya’s trip down down the rabbit hole had begun. After all, someone had to get to the bottom of this, and frankly, he was pretty much the only one who could, considering the circumstances.

It wasn’t long until you noticed his behavior, and it led to another chance encounter. This time, in front of your house. You knew he would’ve eventually found out in the records, yet you were surprised at his perseverance nonetheless. What was his deal? “Cavalry captain, why are you so persistent?”

He chuckles. “So you do know me.”You roll your eyes a bit. It was nothing, really. He was a huge a name here after all. 

When you ask him why he cared for your case so much, he simply responds like it was common sense. You still don’t understand why. ”It’d be bad for me to let you run off on your own, you know? Especially in that.” His eyes gesture onto your clothing. Right, you almost forgot. “Consider it a favor.”

And thus, began your strange friendship with Kaeya.

It started a bit rocky, but as time passed, the two of you started to see past your differences. Petty remarks turned into playful banter, and suspicions were cast aside into genuine fondness--though none of you openly admitted to that.

Kaeya soon learns more of your predicament, after patiently waiting for you to be ready to open up. It started with an incident in your lab--you were testing the limits of elemental reactions, which led to an explosion. 

At first, you thought there wouldn’t be any side effects, however, you quickly learned that the opposite was true, when Sucrose came to check up on the noise... yet didn’t notice you in the room. It only got worse from there.

So, you tried to test another theory. People were sure to notice and have a bigger impression of you in their memory if you caught their attention, right? Perhaps by making a huge impression, it’ll trigger a memory--hence causing them to remember. So, you opted for something that would definitely be a sight worth seeing (and remembering, to an extent). That was how you ended up as Mondstadt’s wild bunny girl, hopping around the city as a phenomenon waiting to be seen.

Yet somehow, only one man did. And amidst the time you had to bond, wether it was during a quiet meal in your abode after he helped you in getting groceries, or looking through the library for hints to solve your predicament, Kaeya and you proved to be quite the close pair.

Time was ticking however, and you knew that if Kaeya and you couldn’t find a solution, then sooner or later, you’d be gone for good. Left to be forgotten. A failed experiment.

It was something you never told Kaeya--something you kept hidden in your many papers dedicated in solving your predicament. You kept convincing yourself that it was better this way. He could go back to his knightly duties and continue protecting Mondstadt without an extra burden.

But what you didn’t know was that he found out. It was all adding up, really--the way you started to distance yourself from him, how you began stocking up on food, and the notes he read behind your back when you were away. 

...Which meant he also read about the details of your planned experiment to make him lose his memory. And he didn’t like the idea one bit. He’d never abandon you after all you’ve been through. He hates the very idea of such.

So one day, when you asked him to meet you in front of the gates, wearing that same old bunny girl suit for shits and giggles, he knew what he was getting into. He calculated the time you’d finish prepping your little memory loss experiment, and today was the day.

You thought everything was going as planned. Kaeya didn’t once suspect the drink you gave him. Your first mistake. Your second was letting your guard down... as Kaeya had immediately chucked the drink into your lips, forcing you to gulp it down, choking in disbelief. Wait... did you see him spit it out right as he did that?!

“You--” coughing, you look at Kaeya in distraught. “YOU KNEW?!”

But the man merely chuckles, quoting a friend that helped him solve the mystery. Of course, in return, he had to submit a full, detailed report on your entire predicament, but he could care less. Thank you Albedo.“With equal force comes equal reaction.” 

“I still don’t get what you mean--” you stiffen, suddenly feeling eyes on you, several people saying your name. Wait... if they remembered your name, could they see you?

“So that was where you ran off to,” You almost cry tears of joy when Albedo actually talks to you, walking alongside Sucrose to where you were situated. “I expect a huge explanation on how all of this happened--” he briefly turns to Kaeya. “--And everything in between.”

Still in the high of euphoria, you don’t notice the cold night air until Sucrose brings you back to reality. “Um... Ms. (Y/n), not to be rude, but... aren’t you cold in that?”

You stiffen, your mind wanting you to slap the blue haired man behind you for laughing hysterically in response. Right, almost forgot about that.

[negasonicimagines]

Revelation; Part One

warnings/kinks: a/b/o (if you’re penis-repulsed this isn’t for you), smut (duh), brief daddy kink, even briefer mommy kink, cum-eating, cum-marking, cockwarming? (does it count if it’s a/b/o?), light bloodplay, borderline somniphilia (consensual), poisoning, suicidal ideation, allusions to cheating, mentions of conversion therapy, vague mentions of s*xual ass*ult (it doesn’t actually happen in the story, it’s just referred to a lot due to the nature of this universe)

uh… this is another one of those stories that’s just kinda Heavy, please be careful & don’t continue reading if doing so is unsafe for you. I have a variety of other works that don’t have such intense themes, which you can find on my masterlist!

request (+details): Omegaverse: Alphas Yukio and Ellie with a beta reader, but it turns out that reader is a late-bloomer omega who goes into her first heat unexpectedly. / Omegaverse: The setting could be anywhere. The three of them waking up with reader burning hot, believing to be sick but is actually going into heat. The reader could be by themselves when it happens and her alphas come home to a omega in heat / I can’t get this omegaverse idea out of my head, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you this. Reader being alone and confused when her heat came, her alphas gone on a mission. During the time they were gone, Reader made a nest of her alphas’s clothes out of instinct on their bed. By the time Yukio and Ellie returned, Reader is a hot mess from trying to get off, moaning their names and begging for her alphas to help her for she don’t know why she feels like this and is scared.)

synopsis: After Wade discovers you're dealing with suicidal thoughts, he takes it upon himself to help you out, leading to one disaster after another.

author’s note: thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this for spending so much time with me & making sure everything was juuuust right! Fun fact: we pined, started dating, and broke up, started dating again, and broke up again all before this was published 🙃 sorry everybody, it’s been a rocky road for the past… forever.

Standing guard after school for a few extra bucks is a pretty sweet deal, you have to admit. You mostly just sit around with a pair of binoculars munching on your snack of choice, using a gun loaded with tranquilizer darts to drop anyone who threatens the safety of the school and its residents. If given permission, or an order to do so, you can use your bow and arrow to really take down your enemies.

You’re pretty lucky in life overall, you also have to admit, with two alpha girlfriends and a variety of friends and acquaintances, not to mention the advantages your mutation gives you.

It makes you feel even more guilty for what you’re really thinking about right now. Not Ellie, not Yukio, not keeping an eye out for threats, nothing but a simple question:

Would it be more efficient to slit your wrists with the point of one of your arrows, or to fling yourself from the top of this turret? Which would hurt worse? You look from the sharp arrow you hold in your hand to the plush grass below, managed by some of the other students.

It’s far cheaper to pay students to maintain the yard and house, not to mention it gives students like you a way of earning the kind of spending money that other students receive from their parents or from jobs in town. Your post would be snatched up in no time if you were to pass.

Speaking of parents.

Your father’s exact words to your mother were “I hate that you use a highschool mistake to keep me trapped with you forever!” the last time you happened to hear them argue. They were no longer invited to parent-teacher conferences after that.

It’s a fine reason for him to be angry, but, unfortunately, you’re the highschool mistake he was talking about. The one he’s always talking about whenever they fight. Maybe if you were gone, he’d finally be free. Maybe you’d finally be free from his resentment. He, fortunately enough, rarely lashes out at you directly; however… There’s always been a distance.

Would he love you more if you were gone? If you saved him from… Well, you? You’ve always wanted him to love you, to look at you with something other than anger or resentment. Would he finally be proud of you, for owning up to every horrible thing you are and have done by paying the ultimate price? Would everyone?

You’re holding the bladed tip of the arrow right against your wrist, almost like a normal person might hold a bracelet to their wrist -- trying it on for size, without really thinking about it.

Suddenly, though, Wade’s here. And he’s definitely thinking about it. He yanks the arrow out of your hand, accidentally snapping the wood that makes up its length.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I- Uh, I don’t know,” you mumble, embarrassed, because you honestly don’t. Being alone with your thoughts gives them the space to grow from their poisoned roots into something dark you don’t really recognize as yours.

“You- You don’t know?!” Wade questions, and the unusual severity of his tone stuns you to the point of laughter. “This isn’t fucking funny, what the hell is wrong with you? Why were you-?! What were you-?! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m standing guard. What the fuck are you doing?” you echo dryly, resorting to quips to avoid telling him any more than he already knows.

“I’m freaking out! I can’t kill you for apparently wanting to kill you, so that’s all I can do! I thought you were on antidepressants!”

“I am. Have been for years. They don’t cure depression, they make it easier to manage.”

“Apparently fucking not! Come on, let’s go talk to somebody and get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. You’ve been on the same prescription all these years, right? Maybe you just need your dosage upped.” Wade’s not asking, he’s telling, his hand wrapped around your bicep to pull you along, although his grip isn’t as tight as you’d expect for a man of his stature, let alone an alpha.

Why does he care so much? He’s always so gentle, even when you piss him off like this. Tears well up in your eyes but you blink hard. You know he’s been through worse. That most people here have. You have no right to cry.

Wade yells at a surprised Charles Xavier until an appointment is set up, which goes pretty well. Four days after that incident, you meet with the psychiatrist who agrees that upping your dosage is the smartest decision, frankly, she’s surprised it wasn’t done sooner. And, after about a week of your new dosage level, you’re feeling better than ever.

Way better.

“You… You’d really wanna do that? For everyone to know I’m yours?”

Ellie nods, cheeks darkened. You’re straddling her, and the two of you have been trading heated kisses with Yukio. Who would’ve thought more of the medication you were sure killed your libido before you could even develop one would be what rescued it?

“Of course we would. I know you don’t like to stereotype, but some of the stereotypes have truth to them. We’re… Territorial,” Yukio reminds you.

“I’m… A beta,” you remind her in a teasing echo of her tone.

“Our beta,” Ellie cuts back in. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Even if I’d rather not let you guys, y’know…” Your hand rubs at the space between your neck and your shoulder - where they’d likely mark you with their teeth - nervously. “...today? Or go farther than what we’re doing right now?”

“Of course, baby! The fact that you’ve even done this much…” Yukio trails off, looking over you. Your lips are swollen and still slightly parted as you continue to pant a little. The top few buttons of your (well, borrowed from Ellie) flannel are undone.

“We’re so grateful, and so proud of you,” Ellie continues, drawing your attention back to her. “We’re willing to wait as long as you need, even if that waiting only ends because you’ve decided that being with us like that isn’t something you want.”

“I do. I always have, I just… I don’t know.”

“The feeling’s still there, in your stomach, right?” Yukio wonders.

“Yeah, a little. It’s like… I know it’s not wrong, but something doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe I should just try to ignore it, I mean, you two have needs-”

“Hey. You know better than that, Y/N. We don’t, okay, babe? Not like that. We wanna have sex with you, not- Not hurt you. You understand that, right?” Ellie reassures you.

“I do, I just feel bad for being such a- I don’t know, a tease?”

“We love you. As in, you. If you forced yourself to do something you didn’t want to, just for us, how would we forgive ourselves?” Yukio says what she’s said a million times, but every time it surprises you. You tend to see yourself as only being valuable in what you can offer others— protection, a laugh, some good advice every now and then —you never expect anyone to care for you outside of that. But here they are. Absolutely perfect.

And you were thinking of flinging yourself off a tower a couple weeks ago. Should you tell them? They just think you went for an overdue checkup, which is technically the case. You don’t know what’s worse, hiding it or telling them. You’ll have to talk to Wade, he’s good at giving advice. Might not be good advice, but he’s definitely good at giving it.

“Everything okay, sharpshooter?” Ellie hands gently squeeze your hips to get your attention.

You blink back out of your thoughts, smiling a little and blushing at the nickname.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I just zoned out. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Everything okay?” your alphas ask, again, in unison. Your alphas. They probably couldn’t handle it if you had a problem they couldn’t solve, the guilt of not being able to provide for you would overwhelm them.

“Yeah, totally,” you reply, because it is, now, especially here with them. Ellie starts to button up your flannel.

“Oh, we don’t have to-”

Ellie gives you a pointed look, then looks down at her crotch, then back up at you. Your blush deepens.

“Yeah, I’m guessing a cold shower’s in order,” Yukio agrees. “El, you can go first.”

“We can’t go together?” Ellie asks.

“Well, I don’t wanna leave Y/N alone. Our brave little beta did a lot more than usual. Don’t want you to feel used, baby,” Yukio explains to you both.

“Oh, duh,” Ellie agrees. You give her a quick smooch on the forehead before dismounting her and allowing yourself to be pulled into Yukio’s arms. Ellie grabs some clean clothes and heads off. As soon as the door shuts, Yukio giggles, and you look to her with a curious, confused expression.

“Now you’re all mine to cuddle.” Yukio gloats, kissing the top of your head. “Mm… You smell really good, babe. New shampoo?”

“Ish, yeah,” you agree, despite the fact that you started using it nearly a month ago at this point. Maybe the body heat you built up from the makeout session made it smell stronger, though.

Yukio keeps sniffing you, but you don’t call her out on it. She’s a little bit quirky, sure, but there’s no need to make her feel self-conscious about it when the tickling sensation feels kinda nice. She tosses in a few soft presses of her lips against your skin, too, so it’s not like she’s the only one who benefits.

Yukio eventually stops this, though, instead requesting to scent you. You’ve told the girls before that they don’t have to ask, but they— especially Yukio —seem to prefer to. You figure it’s likely to reassure them that you not only tolerate but appreciate their alphahood.

“I love you, you know that? Not just ‘cause you make me smell like petrichor. I’m surprised Ellie doesn’t spend all day huffing your scent, I… I know I would, if I could smell it.” You didn’t mean for the sad envy to ring so clearly in your words, but it’s as sharp as a knife, cutting deep enough to make Yukio gasp softly with sympathy as she rubs your wrist against her scent gland, eyes snapping open.

“Well, next time it’s about to rain, we’ll go outside, then. Every time it’s about to rain,” Yukio insists. “Who- Who told you?”

“Wade. I was just curious. He said Ellie smells like a campfire, the scent even clings like it. He even said I smell a little weird. Most betas smell like something, but I’m just… A blank canvas.”

You feel her rumble a bit with a growl, and her arms wrap tightly around you… Protectively? You blush.

“Y-Yukio?” you nervously ask, caught off guard. Ellie’s usually more of the growling type. Yukio’s pretty good about keeping her possessiveness and any other “negative” alpha traits in check. This side of her doesn’t come out often.

“What was he doing that close to you?” she snarls protectively, and if the growl wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, that was. “Sm- Smelling you?”

“Yukes, Wade’s the same age as my parents. Honestly, he’s- He’s kinda- He’s nice to me. We’re friends. I think if he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done it by now. You two keep forgetting I’m just a beta. No one wants a piece of this pie except for you and Ellie.”

“You’d be surprised at the way some alphas… It’s sick, but they- Because betas, you know, they don’t really produce slick like omegas do, and they don’t have quite as much give, uh… So, some alphas, um, they… Just let me hold you, okay?” Yukio requests. “I can’t talk about it, it’ll make me too mad.”

“I respect that. Thank you. I, uh, I didn’t realize that at all, so thank you for helping me be even safer,” you reassure her. She’s trembling. “Do you want me to hold you, instead?”

“No, no, this will make me feel better. I just… I love you. Can you just…? Just- Just say you’re mine.” This is a request Yukio has semi-often. When she feels weak in comparison to other alphas, when she feels overshadowed by Ellie, any time she needs reassurance or is just feeling bad, she’ll probably ask. You get it, being hers (and Ellie’s, of course) makes you feel better, too.

“I’m yours, Yukio. Always yours. You make me so happy, both of you. Happier than- You make me feel so-“ You get a bit choked up. These girls, these alphas… They’re so important to you.

“Oh, no, baby, please don’t cry,” Yukio implores, watching your eyes water. You turn so that your face doesn’t just rest on her chest but is buried in it.

“It’s just that no one ever loved me before you two. No one, ever. Not my parents, not my ’friends,’ no one. I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately, I’m sorry.”

“No one at all?” Yukio questions, but that’s the missing puzzle piece, she realizes. You’re always treating hers and Ellie’s love for you like it’s something you have to earn, no matter how much they insist being yourself is enough. She fully grasps now that it’s never been enough before.

She holds you even tighter.

“Mm-mm,” you confirm, shaking your head a little. “You and Ellie just mean the whole world to me. And- And… Wade’s my friend, too. Can I still, y’know, spend time with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just- He’s a nice guy, but… I don’t want him to put you in danger. You can handle yourself, though. Can’t you, sharpshooter?” Her fingers trickle up your ribs as she says the nickname, making you giggle and squirm.

“Absolutely, but it is nice to have two strong, sexy alphas take care of me instead every now and then,” you admit, albeit a bit teasingly, blushing softly. You turn back so that you can see her adorable face.

“Really?” Yukio asks, but she knows.

“Really,” you agree with a smile.

“I’m yours, too. You know that, right?” Yukio checks, fiddling with your hair a bit.

“Mhm. It’s nice to hear you say it like that, though.”

“I can think of other ways you might like to hear it,” Yukio flirts.

“Yeah, you think so? Show me,” you tease back.

“I will…” Yukio trails off as she trails her finger along your jaw, tipping your head up to the perfect kissing angle and- “Eventually, little beta.”

“I- I’m taller than you,” you weakly protest.

“Your breath still hitched,” Yukio reminds you with a giggle and a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

You stutter a little more before giving up, burying your face again and whining.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just can’t help myself. You’re too cute,” Yukio half-heartedly apologizes, still chuckling to herself as she strokes your back.

Ellie returns from her shower, inky tendrils of hair ruffled around but with no product in.

“She’s asleep?” Ellie asks, sounding a bit disappointed, but there’s still a significant amount of fondness in her tone.

“She’s not,” you mumble back, and both girls chuckle, Yukio untangling herself from you. You can’t help but pout a little, already missing the bubblegum-haired alpha.

“I know Yukio’s your favorite, but you could at least act a little bit happy to see me,” Ellie half-jokes, and you smile, pulling (though she doesn’t give any resistance) the girl back into your bed. She holds you the same way Yukio did, but you don’t really mind the lack of variety.

“You’re both my favorite,” you argue. Ellie takes a deep breath, likely taking in the way you’re completely embraced by Yukio’s scent.

“I don’t think that’s how favorites work,” she chuckles.

“Out of all the people in the world, you two are both my favorite,” you insist. She takes the hand you have resting on her ribcage and holds it inches from her scent gland. “Please,” you say, before she can even ask. Ellie takes a whiff again.

“Did she leave anywhere untouched?” She wonders.

“N-not really,” you stutter, because now you’re thinking of where she didn’t touch you.

“Well, she’ll have to share a little, then,” Ellie says.

You hum with delight as she scents you.

“You make a new friend?” Ellie questions.

“Huh?”

“You smell… Different,” she responds, looking at you… Well, differently. “Like roses.”

“I have a new-ish shampoo?” You offer, but that just seems to intensify the look.

Your phone rings. It’s Wade. You wriggle out of Ellie’s loose hold on you, answering.

“Hey, you know how I’m your academic advisor?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well, apparently, thwarting your suicide attempts isn’t my only job. I also have to tell you when they need you in the office, which is now.”

“Seriously?! I didn’t even throw that pencil at Richard, and even if I did, he deserved it for being such a-“

“Oh, right! Should’ve opened with the good news. Your parents are here to visit.”

“What?! That’s-“ You sigh, not wanting to alarm Ellie any more than you already have. “Okay. I’ll be there. Just give me a second to get dressed.”

“Wow, no shame at all. I salute you. Toodles!” Wade hangs up before you realize he misunderstood you.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asks.

“Nothing, just… My parents are here.”

“Your… Parents?”

“Kind of have to have those to exist, usually,” you remark, and she snorts.

“I know- I- Well, we’ve known each other for a while, and you don’t really talk about them, so I sort of assumed…” Ellie trails off.

“Oh, um, yeah, no, they’re very alive,” you confirm with an awkward chuckle.

“Right. I’ll go get ‘Kio, and we’ll all go, okay?”

“Uh- Um- Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“My parents, they kind of… They- I love you. And I’m not ashamed of you.”

“But they’ll be ashamed of you,” Ellie understands.

“I haven’t seen them in so long, they don’t even know that I like girls, let alone that I’m dating two, or that they’re both alphas… I want you and Yukio to come with me, but, if they start to- If they’re how they are, I-“

“Give my energy to helping you instead of hurting them,” Ellie uses Piotr’s words.

“Perfect,” you agree, and Ellie smiles back, but it falters. You didn’t mean to worry her so much.

“I’ll go get Yukio. You get changed, okay?”

“Mhm,” you agree, and she heads off to the bathroom. You steal one of Ellie’s band tees and an oversized cardigan of Yukio’s for comfort, finding a pair of high-waisted bottoms to tuck the tee shirt in. You throw on a pair of sneakers, and when the girls emerge from the bathroom, you pop in to freshen up.

Once you’re done, Yukio’s caught up on the situation and the three of you make your way to the front offices.

Wade meets you outside.

“Oh em gee, Y/N, you’ll never believe it, I actually went to high school with both of your parents.”

“Uh… Cool?” You respond, because you’re not entirely sure how to.

“Yeah, uh, I get now that it’s probably not really good news that they’re here, huh? No wonder I found you doing that the other day.”

“Doing what?” Yukio and Ellie ask, though for some reason, Ellie’s is tinged with suspicion, maybe even anger.

“I- Listen, it’s not a big deal, I got my prescription updated and all that good stuff, okay?” You prime them. “I was thinking about killing myself the other day and Wade caught me.”

“Thinking?! You’re gonna call holding the fucking tip of an arrow to your wrist thinking?!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ellie sounds as angry as Wade does, but she looks pained. This is why you didn’t tell them.

“Hey, she doesn’t need this right now,” Yukio argues, but she looks hurt, too.

“I mean, I was just considering if it would be more painful than jumping off of the turret,” you mumble, your defense embarrassingly weak.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ellie decides, and Yukio nods. You three follow Wade to Xavier’s office. Wade breezes in, but you’re practically stuck in the doorway, nervous to look at even the backs of their heads, before they turn around.

“Y/N,” your mom says with a grin, but you know all too well how fake that is. She approaches you, pulls you into a hug, and you want nothing more than to push her away and scrub yourself clean. She doesn’t really love you. The second you speak out of turn, or make a mistake, or give her any excuse, she’ll remind you of your worth. (Or, rather, the lack thereof.)

She slips back into her seat next to your father, in front of the desk where Xavier sits, simply observing.

“It’s been so long,” your father says, but his smile is almost blatantly fake. “Your hair, it’s different.”

“Like you said, it’s been a while,” you say, giving a grimace and an awkward chuckle.

“I don’t think I like it,” he says, like he’s giving his opinion on a sculpture in an art exhibit by some long-dead artist who doesn’t care what he thinks. Like it’s something just… Objective.

“Not sure what to do about that,” you reply sheepishly.

You don’t fully realize that you’re holding Ellie’s hand until she squeezes it reassuringly, three times. A secret code. You step further in to make room for the girls.

“So, uh, I have to ask… Why the sudden visit?”

“Well, we got an e-mail about your medicine, and we wanted to come check on you. Make sure this is the right environment for you,” your mother explains.

“You weren’t sure before you stopped talking to me for two years?” You half-joke, playing dumb.

“Has it really been two years?” A normal person would be asking this rhetorically, and they’d be embarrassed. Your mother, though, is simply trying to gaslight you.

“Longer,” you assure her.

“I thought this place was supposed to provide conversion therapy,” your father says, eyeing your hand, then Ellie’s other hand. “You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses to your mother.

“Wow, maybe my mom dying when I was young was for the best. Better than this for sure,” Wade jokes, gently elbowing your side. You chuckle, grateful for even the slightest ounce of comic relief.

“You’re even more of a freak than you were in high school.” You squeeze Ellie’s hand tight as your father’s expression darkens even further.

“Funny you should say that, considering-“

“Wade,” your mother cuts him off.

That’s weird, to say the least. You just file that away for later. You have bigger fish to fry, like surviving this visit.

“Y/N, why’d you go for a check-up at all? You barely needed the anti-depressants in the first place,” your mother wonders.

“Because it wasn’t barely. Why else would they raise the dosage?” You ask, and the expression on her face is as stupid as the question she asked.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” your father scolds, like he didn’t just call your mother a fucking liar himself. “You are so ungrateful for everything we’ve done for you, do you realize that?”

“I’m sorry, what have you done for her, exactly? Answer quickly, please,” Ellie retorts.

“El-“ you start, but realize this isn’t anger, but advocacy.

“Well, we sheltered and fed her for over a decade,” your father remarks, smirking like he’s won.

“That’s your job!” Wade argues.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/N… I politely asked that you refrain from visiting the campus, and while I appreciate your concern for Y/N’s well-being, I must ask that you remain respectful of her, her fellow students, and my staff. Causing unnecessary conflict is exactly the reason you were almost banned when you last visited,” Professor Xavier finally speaks.

“Almost banned?!” Wade wheezes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and Wade’s laughter immediately ceases. “I was cheating in school, according to- To Dad.” The word is poison in your mouth.

“Come on, we all know you’re not smart enough to get those grades on your own. Probably screwing some teacher, just like Mom.”

“That’s enough,” Ellie snarls, eyes glowing orange.

“I never screwed a teacher!” Your mother protests at the same time.

“Oh, that’s right, you just blew Mr. Morin. My bad. Wow, Y/N, you really must be something special for all these alphas to be fawning over you. Maybe I did fuck up once or twice, after all, I’ve heard daddy issues-“

“Well, you visited! Now get the fuck out,” Wade chirps.

“Mr. L/N, must I repeat myself? I know you and Mrs. L/N were interested in a tour. Perhaps a less crowded area would help ease your minds,” Xavier reminds you all of his presence once more.

“That sounds like a great idea,” your father agrees.

“I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, maybe you could show us your room first and I could lie down for a bit in there?”

“I-“ You look to the girls, not wanting them to have to deal with her alone.

“Actually, Miss Phimister and Miss Kitsuna would be perfect additions to a rescue team. The orphanage your friend Russell came from was actually part of a network for mutant trafficking, and we found another hub in Maine. The jet takes off in fifteen minutes, and you two will be back in time for dinner. Better get ready and briefed.”

“But-“ Yukio starts, looking to you.

“Go, be superheroes,” you tell them, and they head out. “Uh, how about we swing by the library first, to give them time to change, and then to our room?”

“You share a room with them? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“We were roommates before we started dating,” you correct him.

“Dating… Aw, I bet you really think that’s what it is, too. Having parents in a sham of a marriage really did a number on you, huh?” Your father condescends.

“You know, it’s pretty fucked up how fixated you are on her sexuality. Do you like to picture it, you goddamn creep?” Wade defends you, and your skin crawls. You’d never thought of it that way before.

“Let’s just get that tour started, ‘kay?” You squeak. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner they’ll be on their way, hopefully.

“Good idea, Y/N,” Wade says. “Come on, Textbook, let’s go.”

“You didn’t just call me-“

“Oh, but I did, Textbook. Hey, Y/N, did you know that was your dad’s nickname in highschool? ‘Cause he was so fuckin’ easy to shove in a locker.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh and failing.

“Just show us the library already, Y/N,” your mother says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You take your parents to the library, as requested. Wade keeps pace with you while your parents fall back. You can’t hear their exact words, but you know your parents are bickering.

“You never said it was this bad.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s definitely been worse,” you admit, busying your eyes with the paintings that line the walls so that you don’t have to meet Wade’s gaze. You might just cry if you do; you can feel the sympathy radiating off of him.

In these past few months, Wade’s been more of a father than your dad, even more of a mother than your mom, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel more justified in how you feel about your parents. In fact, it just makes you feel worse, and even if you’ve never actually expressed it, you’re still ashamed of the fact that you wish Wade was your father instead. He actually cares, while your parents are simply legally obligated.

From the day you met, Wade’s always been there for you. If you were to tell your parents what you almost did the other day, they’d just call you attention-seeking and insult you in other ways. All they’d do is make you want to try again.

You and Wade stop at the entrance to the library and wait for your parents to catch up. They do, and you open the double doors to reveal the room.

“It’s like Beauty and the Beast,” your mother gapes.

“I thought so, too,” you agree, attempting a smile, but your parents just ignore you, wandering around the large room. Your mother excuses herself after a few minutes of spinning, saying that the dizziness is making her headache worse.

“All these books and you’re still… The way you are,” your father comments, looking at you with such disdain.

“Winner of the science fair with her loving partners, three years in a row?” Wade questions. “Oh, or maybe you’re talking about the fact that she’s a published poet. How embarrassing for you, I’m sure.”

“Wade,” you protest under your breath, embarrassed. They don’t even know that stuff. After middle school, you stopped telling them about your accomplishments. You figured out that all they’d do is ruin them for you.

“No, no, trust me. It’s more about the fact that she’s slutting around with alphas and won’t even save us the embarrassment of them being girls,” you father spats.

“That’s enough,” Wade snarls.

“Oh, that’s right, we can’t forget that she’s yours, too. I guess anything with a dick is daddy considering I was too busy putting food on the table to play dollies,” he remarks, and you suddenly feel light-headed.

“Seriously, Textbook, I really don’t want to hurt you, especially not in front of Y/N, but I fucking will if you make me.”

“Just go,” you urge Wade, starting to feel a bit dizzy, surely from the stress. You brace yourself on him, disguising it as a touch meant to comfort him. He looks concerned as the edges of your vision start to darken a little.“I- What you’re doing, I appreciate it, but-“

“You appreciate it? You appreciate him disrespecting me, disrespecting our family?!”

“Our family?!” You finally snap. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you couldn’t do that. You just couldn’t. And now we’re a family?! No. No, you…” You start to pant, your face feeling even hotter than before. “You… I hate you,” you manage to get out before your world goes completely dark.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N! I’m so prou-“

But when Wade turns to you, you’re halfway to the ground. He catches you, though, and he catches a whiff of something… Familiar.

Lavender. It’s not just the Wilson scent, sure, but it’d be too much of a coincidence. You smell just like him. You are him, or, rather, made of him.

He’s torn between ecstatic and furious.

“Hey, can we get some help over here?” your father calls out to no one. It’s not a school day, and lots of students are out on missions. He reaches out to you for once in your life, but Wade’s now sitting on the floor, cradling you in his arms.

“No,” Wade argues. “Not yours. Mine.”

“What?” You father asks incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s. Not. Yours,” Wade repeats, and the more he inhales your scent, the more out of control yet calm he feels. Like he’s in the eye of a hurricane. “My baby. Mine.”

“You’re not saying…” your father trails off as Wade gets up, still cradling you. Wade has to take you to your room; help make you a nest, now. He can smell it on you.

You’re in heat.

He gets to your room quickly, practically tossing you onto your bed. Wait… Isn’t your mom supposed to be here?

And that’s when he hears the sound of pills spilling onto the floor.

He nearly rips the bathroom door off of its hinges. Luckily, your mother spilled what Wade quickly realizes is suppressants, and not your prescription.

“You. You could’ve killed her. You are very, very lucky that my baby-“

“Our baby,” your mother corrects.

“No, you take pills, you can’t even smell her, let alone feel her like I can. It- It’s so much it fucking hurts. I’ll say it again, you’re very lucky my baby is in heat, or your arteries would be emptying in that shower. Now, go. Don’t come back.”

You groan in pain, stirring, and your mother takes Wade’s advice. Wade calls Yukio. Then Ellie. Then Yukio. Then Ellie.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“You need to turn around. Now. I don’t have the time to explain. It’s Y/N.”

“Is she okay?” Ellie, always skeptical, asks.

“Obviously fucking not, or I wouldn’t be calling. She’s in heat.”

“But-“

“I said that I don’t have time to explain, fucking turn around! I’m on the verge of going fucking feral, Ellie. You both need to get here, now.”

“Wade, get out,” Ellie immediately demands.

“I can’t,” he admits.

“Get out! Shit, Wolverine! We need to turn around!”

“I can’t. It’s not like that I swear, it’s… I’m going fucking crazy, just one of you will do, but someone needs to get here.”

“Wade, go.”

“I would never hurt her! Come home!” Wade barks before hanging up. He returns to your room to find you’ve made a nest instinctively - thank goodness for Yukio’s affinity for pillows and blankets - and now you’re curled up in pain in the center of it.

“Wade,” you whimper. He’s scared to step closer, not sure if he’s what you want, even if you despise who you thought was your father. “What’s happening to me? Everything hurts.”

“I really don’t know how to say this, but… You’re in heat.”

“But I’m a beta,” you argue, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s what we all thought. But… Remember how you didn’t smell like anything before? Uh, let me start over. When did you start on your anti-depressants?”

“I was about twelve,” you confirm, not sure what that means.

“Yeah, I think those were suppressants. That it’s always been suppressants, no matter what the bottles said. Until you got a prescription without your mother knowing. Do you understand why your mother would do that?”

You shake your head, and he approaches the bed, sitting down carefully as not to disturb your work.

“Her boyfriend around the time she got pregnant with you was a beta. We know him as Textbook,” Wade teases, before continuing: “But, what no one realizes is that he was at Niagara Falls on spring break around the time when you were conceived, and she was hanging out with her next-door neighbor the whole time. Her next-door neighbor was me.”

“Oh, so I’m your highschool mistake,” you say, connecting the dots.

“Huh?”

“Ha, well, whenever my parents- Well, I guess not my parents, but that’s beside the point, uh, whenever they argue and it gets really bad, my father- Well, not my father, but, uh-“

“Continue,” Wade urges.

“Basically, sometimes he uses ‘a mistake I made in highschool’ as code for ‘Y/N,’” you explain. “But the truth is, I’m the mistake you made in highschool.”

“You’re not a mistake,” he disagrees. “You’re- You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Lots of things are made by accident, but that doesn’t make them mistakes! Penicillin, potato chips, Post-It notes, popsicles! They were never supposed to exist but they do and the world is much better off with them in it.”

“You really do have a lot of useless knowledge,” you realize.

“So do you, that’s why our team always wins trivia night.” Wade slips off his boots, joining you in your rearranged bed. “C’mere,” he suggests, guiding your head to his neck.

“S’really you,” you mumble, already weary, and Wade worries for what’s to come. He almost doesn’t even want to let the girls in. He could get you pain medicine, he could probably even find sedatives. Then no one would ever be able to even touch you, let alone hurt you. “Lavender. You never mentioned the lavender, just the sandalwood.”

“I didn't think you’d be impressed,” Wade admits.

“It’s relaxing,” you tell him. “It’s nice to have things in common with someone.”

“You smell like roses, too, not just lavender,” he makes sure you know.

“Yeah, but I think that’s mostly concentrated in an area I’d rather not discuss with you.”

“Well, just make sure that if you do decide to do anything more with them than cuddle, which I can gladly go through the rest of my life without knowing, bee-tee-dubs, that the girls are wearing alpha condoms, especially if one of them knots you. Standard condoms work in a pinch if it’s just for one, y’know, go, but for heats they’re basically useless because of everything I just said. If they hurt you, I will make their deaths look like accidents.”

“S’not like I can get pregnant anyway…” You mumble, embarrassed. “I’m- I’m really glad it’s you. I- I wished so many times that it was you instead of him. Ow, ugh, that one was bad,” you groan, massaging your stomach.

Meanwhile, on the jet, Ellie is furious with herself.

“Yukio, you don’t get it, I smelled her. She smelled like an omega, but I thought- I assumed she was cheating on us. That maybe she didn’t want to be with us like that was because she wanted to- I don’t know, to be on top? It seems so stupid now.”

“Hey, I noticed she smelled different, too. There were other signs we both missed, anyways. Think about how emotional she’s been lately, or how much farther we’ve been going in other ways. How clingy she’s been, too.”

“I guess I didn’t really notice it because I liked her being more open and needing us more,” Ellie admits. “She- She almost fucking killed herself. And I thought cheating was what she was hiding. I- I just-“

“You can’t beat yourself up over it,” Yukio insists. “We’re on our way back, and Wade’s there to protect her.”

Speaking of Wade being there to protect you, he continues to comfort you as the pain gets worse.

“S’too hot,” you complain, and he releases you from his hold, rising from the bed. He knows he’ll have to leave you soon, because you’re likely going to need privacy before the girls get home, but it’s hard to part from you knowing you’re in pain.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay? And after that, I’m just gonna stand guard outside the door until your girls get here. I know there’s some stuff you need to do, and that’s only gonna get worse.”

“It’s already awful,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Good luck, kid. I love you.”

Wade gets a case of bottled water from the school’s industrial-sized pantry, bringing it to your room and tearing it open for you before leaving once more. You take one, immediately guzzling it down.

In privacy, you take off Yukio’s cardigan and your bottoms, leaving you in Ellie’s tee shirt and your underwear. You decide to go ahead and free yourself from the constriction that is your bra, feeling a bit embarrassed that you’re not leaving much to the girls’ imagination for your first time together. You eventually decide to undress completely, wondering when the hell your girls are gonna get here.