#the interviewer looks so close to laughing his ass off this is fucking ridiculous

[investingestincest]

man journalism ain't what it is nowadays. the invited people on my TV keep yelling at each other and look like they're second away from mauling each other. the interviewer straight up had to intervene and reprimand them like they're little kids like. grown ass people ???

[strangedreamings]

E5. Right off the bat, Mrs. Ferrars is a huge bitch. Who cares which kid is taller? They're both growing so their current heights won't matter in about a month or two. Talking down to the young women like that is poor, poor manners on Mrs. F's part. Lady, the only reason anyone, and I do mean anyone, puts up with you is because of your money. If you were as poor as the Dashwood ladies, no one would give you the time of day.

Robert's a Karen. He takes after his mother. I'd feel sorry for Lucy but he's exactly what she deserves.

Lucy hanging on Mrs. Ferrars' every word like she's the Queen or something. Lucy, dear, do something about your nose -- it's awfully brown. Mrs. F is acting like she's interviewing governesses. Wow. No manners and no class either. It's amazing that no one has ever slapped this woman.

Lucy can't tell the difference between a genuine cough and covering a laugh with a cough. She's manipulative and conniving, but not very bright. It's quite a feat.

"Your brother's old wife." Old? Lucy, bite your fucking tongue, Fanny is probably in her late twenties, certainly not older than mid-thirties. Old, my ass.

Lucy saying she's to "look after" John and Fanny's kid. So she IS going to be a governess, just apparently an unpaid one? (Or maybe "au pair" is a better term here.) Lucy, open your damn eyes.

Ooo, Lucy's hinting that Mrs. F doesn't like Elinor and there's no hope for her. Bitch. You'd think she'd learn that you catch more flies with honey, but I guess she's emulating Mrs. F in all things.

Edward drops in, now he's facing the woman he loves and the woman he's engaged to. I'd feel sorry for you, dude, but you brought this on yourself.

I'm surprised Lucy isn't picking up on the UTTER DISDAIN Elinor feels for her and is barely disguising. But then, Lucy doesn't see below the surface of anyone.

"Some ladies do age quickly." Good God, you're hopeless, Lucy. Elinor is 19 and looks it. You are incapable of speaking about another woman, even ones who aren't your rivals, without insulting them, aren't you?

I'd wager that this Lucy is worse than all the versions that come after her. A truly unpleasant woman. Even when she's supposed to be friendly, she fails miserably.

She really doesn't get that Edward is inching away from her emotionally. Edward, just rip the bandage off, this is ridiculous.

Marianne has joined them. The actress is overenunciating every line. Honestly, I don't think she's a good actress. She's also deepened her voice to sound more serious or whatever but it just sounds fake.

Between Marianne staring him down and Lucy's simpering, I'm surprised Edward hasn't run yet. "I really must go." Ha! I knew it!

Lucy's ridiculously huge white muff and Marianne's ugly brown dress make me wonder what drugs the costume designer was on. Whatever they were, they weren't good enough.

"Goodbye, Edward." Elinor's treating him like one of the family instead of a suitor. She's truly given up.

"the lady of Henry Palmer, Esquire" Proof that whoever wrote this screenplay didn't pay close attention to the book -- that very line in the book has Mr. Palmer's first name as THOMAS, not Henry. WTF?

"Mrs. Jennings, a grandmother." Um, Fanny, Mrs. Jennings already has grandkids by her daughter Lady Middleton. Seriously, this screenwriter is full of shit.

Anne's as talkative as Charlotte and Mrs. Jennings but she needs to learn when to shut up.

Fanny's having the mother of all conniptions. She actually called the Steele girls sluts. That's definitely NOT in the book. I doubt Ms. Austen ever used that word. It existed in her time but she had more class than that. Somebody get me the screenwriter, I just want to talk. I definitely prefer Fanny '95's freak out over this woman's guttural screeching.

Marianne finally realizing what Elinor has been going through while she was too busy moaning about Willoughby. I hope this reality check hurts, girl. It's high time you realized the world does not revolve around you and your mood swings.

"Lucy does not want sense" Elinor, have you MET Lucy?

"You've made me hate myself forever." Finally, a fucking breakthrough. Shut up, Marianne.

Does John really think that just because he's married into the Ferrars family, that means his half-sisters have to kowtow to Mrs. F too? He's so full of shit and the girls call him on it, thankfully.

[sweetnsour1]

6:05

Fluff, Bakugou x female reader

Part of the Hero Interview Panel Series and the Cute as hell collection

"My question is for Dynamight. Umm are you-are you single?"

"Ohhhh, what an excellent question." The moderator cooed. You tried to not glare at her, but fuck...this was the same reporter that was always trying to squeeze up against Dynamight during interviews. Did they have to choose her for this fucking thing? She'd already basically thrown herself at him back stage.

"It's not. How would I have time for anything other than savin' you idiots?"

You heard a soft voice on the other side of him. Probably Deku telling him to be nicer.

"Oh my, well that doesn't sound like a taken man to me. And that is actually a fantastic segue to our first question for all of our heroes. 'What is your type?' Let's just go down the line, shall we?" She headed over to the other end of the platform.

"Umm...my type of what?" There was some mumbling off the microphones.

"Oh, I see. Umm, I suppose someone who is kind and likes cold soba and is...not afraid of fire?"

"Uh huh. Well, that is so you. Next! Although I'm sure we alllll know what the answers will be for these next two."

"Oh, well my type would have to be someone who works hard at everything they do and never gives up no matter what."

"So sweet. And you, Deku?"

"Well, my type is Uravity?" The audience laughed.

"Fair enough, you two are the only couple on our panel today."

"Now how about you, handsome?" Ughhh, did her voice have to throb like that?

"That's the best question you could come up with?? Embarrassing."

"But we're dying to know...aren't we, everyone?" The loudest shouts sounded from the splashes of orange in the crowd. He huffed before speaking into his mic.

"My type will be the fucking best because she's with the fucking best."

"I'm sure you could be more specific, Dynamight. Don't you think so?" The crowd roared. He crossed his arms and glared at them, but the screams only got louder. His fans really did love him just the way he was. You giggled and he shifted his gaze to you for a moment before glaring at the audience again.

"Fuckin' hell, you extras...she talks shit, kicks my ass when she can, and she's cute as hell. Happy?"

"Oh? Maybe you'll find her here tonight." She winked at him and you tried to remind yourself that you were a hero not a villain.

"Now, last we have-"

Fuck it. You yanked your mask down, grabbed Dynamight by the ridiculously low v-neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He responded instantly, working his gloved hand through your hair. He groaned and pushed his tongue into your mouth. The crowd lost it. You pushed him back just as quickly as you'd grabbed him and settled back into your seat. The moderator was blushing and finally seemed to have learned how to leave Dynamight alone. You gave the crowd a chance to quiet down. You pulled your mask up and your mic closer before speaking into it as sweetly as you could.

"I think it's time for a new question."

The moderator nodded and seemed happy enough to turn her attention back to Shoto. Katsuki covered your mic and leaned over to growl in your ear.

"Remind me. Whose idea was it to not go public?" You placed a hand on his forehead and nudged him away.

"Oh shut up, 'handsome'. She pissed me off." You crossed your arms and looked out at the crowd.

He chuckled and you felt your seat sliding towards him. He released the chair leg when you were close enough for him to drape an arm around your shoulders. You felt his breath on your skin.

"Cute as hell." He kissed your neck and left you melting beneath your mask as he turned to answer the next question.

Masterlist

Interview Panel Mini-Series

[andypantsx3]

statistically significant | 1 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

note: I cannot overemphasize that this interpretation of Bakugou is based on season 1 Bakugou, which means he behaves very questionably at the beginning. Please heed the warnings!

Last year

You had been ferreting snacks out of the Hero Awards when he found you.

In retrospect, the whole idea of attending the Hero Awards had been a bad one from the get go. You’d just been so thrilled by the image of it in your head--getting to see all your favorite pros gathered in one place, dressed to the nines, celebrating their rankings, their wins, their saves, their successes. You’d pictured yourself flitting between heroes, collecting autographs and taking selfies, sitting down at a table with big names like Uravity and Froppy, making fast friends over the complimentary champagne.

But then you’d seen what really went into preparing for and attending an event like this, and the shine had quickly rubbed off.

When your boss at the Commission had extended you the invite, she’d told you that you would be representing the organization, and had advised you to contract a makeup artist and find someone willing to dress you. Her tone had strongly implied that this was more of an order than a suggestion. So you’d done it, but nobody had told you exactly how many hours went into getting your makeup tested, getting fitted and refitted for a dress, and fielding questions on cut, colors, fabrics, and fit.

By the time the Awards rolled around, you’d lost upwards of forty excruciating hours of your life to preparations, and had developed some kind of anxiety-induced Pavlovian response to the modiste’s name on your phone screen, where you immediately wanted to leap into the nearest storage closet and hide. And none of this was even counting the five full hours you spent on the day of the awards getting primped and polished within an inch of your life, then stuffed into some ridiculous scrap of fabric that threatened to fall off of you if you so much as breathed wrong.

By the time the stylists and makeup artist had finished with you, you were starved, cranky, and nursing a small migraine from how enthusiastic the hairdresser had been with you. You’d thought, though, that you would finally be able to enjoy yourself now that the worst was over. All there was left was to attend the ceremony, and get to see all your favorite heroes.

And for an hour or two, the Hero Awards had been just as cool as expected. You lingered on the fringes of the red carpet, gawking as pros like Chargebolt and Pinky swanned their way down the walkway, looking even cooler in real life than they looked on TV. Everyone had clearly gone all out, and they looked unbelievably good, either inhumanly beautiful or inhumanly intimidating. You had been utterly transfixed, as evidenced by the inordinate amount of time you spent accidentally staring at Todoroki Shouto as he gave an interview to the side of the walkway, looking absolutely unreal as he leaned over to speak to the reporter.

When you’d finally managed to snap out of your trance, you’d remembered to cut a beeline for the snack table, and had set about stuffing as many snacks into your dress as you could manage. And that’s where the trouble really started.

The invite to the Awards had come with the option for a very fancy multi-course dinner that you could have chosen. Instead, you’d taken one look at the price and laughed yourself sick, before resolving to sneak a bunch of the free snacks into your dress to keep you occupied during the ceremony. The problem was, the scrap of fabric the modiste had insisted was a dress was so obnoxiously flimsy and could only hold so many snacks.

If your dress had been able to hold a reasonable number of snacks, you wouldn’t have needed to sneak back out to the snack table during the presentation, and he would have never had a chance to catch you on your own. But the dress was lacking snack utility, and so you had gone back out for more.

You kept low in the aisle as you crept out of the darkened theater, keeping a hand over your chest so you didn’t spill out of the thin fabric of your dress, and emerged into the reception hall, where you were almost blinded by the harsh light. You stood for a minute, blinking the spots out of your vision, and touched a hand to your eyes, careful not to smear any of your eyeliner.

And that’s when he struck.

Almost as soon as you raised your hand, a rough hand seized your wrist, wrenching your arm down. A heavy arm went around you quickly, trapping both your arms to your sides, and you barely had time to let out a squeak before a calloused hand clapped over your mouth. Your feet left the floor, and then you were being dragged through a side door into the stairwell.

You twisted wildly, kicking out, trying to catch the wall or the railing to push off of and throw your assailant off balance, but he was strong, and clearly well-versed in combat, as he kept you well away from anything you could use to your advantage. He hauled you out into the stairwell, but instead of heading down the stairs, he moved towards the corner. To your surprise, he tossed you unceremoniously against the wall, letting you go.

You caught yourself on the rough stone and whirled around, only to reel back in shock when you caught sight of your assailant.

Bakugou Katsuki, perhaps better known as pro hero Ground Zero, leaned over you, trapping you against the wall with an arm on either side of you. He, like all the other heroes you’d caught sight of today, looked almost unreal in person, but in stark contrast to all the others, his handsome face was twisted up in unmistakeable fury, blood-red eyes bright with violence and white teeth bared in a silent snarl. Even under the thick fabric of his suit, you could see the hard lines of his body were taught with aggression, and it was all you could do to not shrink back against the cold stone of the wall.

“So,” he snarled, leaning in to put his face close to yours, “you’re the fucking statistics nerd.”

You gaped at him, mouth falling open. Your professional title was data scientist, but statistics nerd was a close enough descriptor that you could tell he knew who you were. Your brows went up, wondering why in the world Ground Zero knew you.

“E-excuse me?” you managed. Your brain rapidly kicked into high gear, running through possible reasons why he would know you, what he could possibly want with you.

Bakugou snarled. “What the fuck is your problem with me?”

You stared at him. Problem with him? Other than the fact that he’d just seized you with no warning and dragged you into a stairwell, you had no problem with him. You’d never even met him--what the hell was he talking about?

“Uh, do you maybe have me confused with someone else?” you asked, trying to shift out from under his arm. Maybe there was another data scientist milling around in the crowds that he’d meant to get his hands on instead.

Bakugou’s red eyes narrowed, and he put a hand to your abdomen to press you firmly back to the wall. “Oh no. You’re not getting out of this, you little brat. Fucking fix it.”

You eyed him warily, checking him for signs of a head injury, wandering over his shock of blonde hair and noting the size of his pupils. Maybe Bakugou had been out on assignment just before the Awards, and hadn’t stopped to get his injuries checked out before coming here. A blow to the head would explain why he was behaving so strangely, and asking for weird stuff.

“Fix what?” you asked, frowning when you couldn’t spot the signs of a concussion on him. His gaze seemed all too focused, all too intent. It was nerve-wracking, actually. You’d heard of his reputation for intensity before, but it was one thing to hear it and another entirely to have all that intensity trained on you.

Bakugou bared his teeth and leaned closer. “Your fucking nerd-ass model. Fix it.”

You froze.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh, this was about the model. You knew his bone to pick with the model.

The entire reason you’d received an invite to the Hero Awards in the first place was because of your work on the model that calculated the hero rankings. The model had existed for years before you had come along, but this year it was different.

You’d been hired a couple months ago by the Public Safety Hero Commission after you’d contacted them with an idea on how to finally calculate the value of field assists. You’d had a rough prototype of a neural network that you’d trained on video of multi-hero operations, tracking the movements of all the heroes on screen, and had developed an algorithm capable of assigning point values to moves that contributed to but did not directly result in a win or a rescue.

The Commission couldn’t get their hands on your work fast enough, and after only a few months refining your neural net, it was hooked into the rankings model, and it had informed not only the choices for Rescue of the Year and Most Valuable Hero this year, but had entirely changed the hero rankings overall.

And Bakugou’s ranking had been very much affected.

Bakugou Katsuki was a hero very unlike the world had ever seen. Anyone could see from his stats alone that he was incredibly driven, supremely powerful, and almost unmatched by any other hero out there. A few years out from UA, he’d already entered the top ten and had been mere breaths away from the top three -- that is, until your model results had been released.

The thing about Bakugou was that he had a higher percentage of fight wins than any hero in recorded history. He came out on top of almost any situation he entered into, and had one of the highest villain capture stats and the highest villain kill stat as compared to any other hero at this point in their career. The problem was, the new model also now took into account assists, as well as applied slightly heavier weights to rescues, and as good as Bakugou was at winning fights, he was almost equally as terrible at helping others.

So when your model had been worked into the Hero Commission’s official ranking calculations, Bakugou had backslid to sit unhappily at rank number eight.

And apparently, he thought this meant you had a personal grudge.

“Okay, I understand you’re upset, but the results are the results,” you said, watching him carefully. “It’s got nothing to do with you personally.”

His expression darkened thunderously, and the hand on your abdomen grew notably hotter, a scent like gunpowder and burnt sugar rising in the stairwell. “Like hell it doesn’t. Fucking fix it.”

Your brow furrowed. How did regular people think models worked? “There’s no ‘fixing it’, Bakugou. That’s just how math works. If you have a problem with how assists and rescues are weighted then you can take it up with the Commission. I just trained the model with their recommendations, and the results are what they are.”

Bakugou apparently registered none of what you were saying. Rough fingers slid to your jaw, tipping your face up to him. “What is it that you wanted, you damn brat? Did you want to see me humiliated? Or maybe you wanted my attention?” His fingers dug into your jaw. “Well now you have it, you fucking harpy, so show me what you wanted with it.”

You gaped at him, unable to help the way your mouth hung open like a fish. Did he think you were blackmailing him? With a fucking statistical model? It was a matter of public record that Bakugou was smart--he was purportedly one of the brightest minds that had ever graced the profession of hero, with strategic skill and combat sense that was utterly unparalleled--so then why the hell was he being so dumb about this? Was he really so self-absorbed that he thought this whole thing was about him?

Your temper flared, rising like the slow heat that was building under his hands. “I know this might be news to you,” you said slowly, “but not everything is about you. The model I trained takes in video as its input, and calculates rankings based on recommended weighting criteria that the Hero Commission gave me themselves. There is no place for me to input my own biases or change the results, so if the output is something that you’re ashamed of, then maybe you should do better.”

Bakugou’s eyes brightened, narrowing on you with an intensity that made you want to curl into the wall. “Say that again, you little fuck.”

You held your ground, ignoring the dangerous way the scent of hot smoke sharpened, leaning forward to bare your own teeth. “Maybe you should do better, you self-centered asshole.”

You were close enough that you could see his pupils dilate with the challenge, like a predator catching sight of its prey. An unsettling grin made its way across his mouth. “I am going to make you wish you’d never even seen a calculator, you smug fucking nerd,” he said, leaning into you.

The scent of gunpowder burned in the back of your throat, and the hands on you flared alarmingly hot, before the door to the hall burst open, and a whirlwind of red and yellow tore into the stairwell.

“Heya Blasty,” a voice chirped, echoing on the stairs, “Found ya.”

The shock of golden yellow resolved itself into the lean figure of Kaminari Denki, aka pro hero Chargebolt. He quickly made his way to Bakugou’s side, seizing an elbow.

“I’m busy, fuckstick. Fuck off,” Bakugou growled.

A large hand reached over Bakugou’s other shoulder to pull him off you, a head of gelled red spikes materializing behind his back, and you blinked up at Kirishima Eijirou, also known as Red Riot.

“Sorry about him,” Kirishima smiled down at you warmly, in direct contrast to the way his fingers dug into Bakugou’s shoulder. His teeth looked incredibly sharp in person, but this fact somehow failed to detract from the warmth of his friendly expression. You blinked, stunned that you were being addressed by Red Riot.

“He’s been a little worked up since the results were released, but he’s harmless,” Kirishima explained, grunting a little as he jerked Bakugou away from you. Bakugou snarled and turned to his friend, a small volley of sparks lighting off of his palm.

“I said fuck off,” he growled.

You let out a choked laugh at the idea of Bakugou Katsuki being called harmless. Just this week he’d perfected a technique where he melted clean through concrete, and you’d seen the replay of him liquifying the side of a skyscraper on the news this morning as you’d been getting your makeup done.

“Harmless, right. Definitely felt that way,” you uttered as Kirishima struggled to get a grip on Bakugou.

“I’ll fucking show you harmless,” Bakugou spat, turning back to you, sparks crackling louder in his palm. Kirishima seized his chance quickly, getting a bulky arm around Bakugou’s chest and lifting him straight off the ground. Bakugou snarled and gripped Kirishima’s forearm, letting off an explosion that would have blown anyone else’s arm clean off, but Kirishima just laughed, ignoring that the sleeve of his suit had caught fire, and hauled Bakugou back through the door.

A litany of swears filtered back through the door before it swung shut again.

Kaminari turned to face you, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry about that. We didn’t realize he was gonna come after you like that, though I don’t think he would have actually done anything. He’s pretty much all talk.”

You waved a hand, still stunned that Chargebolt was speaking to you.

“Uh, it’s okay,” you said. “I just...didn’t expect that kind of a reaction.”

Kaminari chuckled. “He’s usually a little more chill these days--I think he’s just pissed he’s losing to Midoriya now.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “I gotta say, though, he was even more worked up than I expected when we got here. What did you say to him?”

You grimaced, thinking back on the tense conversation. “That if he was ashamed of his ranking, he should do better.”

Kaminari choked. “Oh fuck, he must have been pissed,” he managed, before dissolving into peals of laughter. “Do better. No wonder he looked like he was gonna give himself a hernia. Mina’s gonna wet herself when I tell her.”

You shifted uncomfortably. “He thinks I altered the results to get his attention.”

Kaminari’s chuckles tapered off as he set a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Oh, he’s just saying that. He knows he’s shit at assists. He’s just salty he’s actually gotta do something about it if he wants to be number one.”

You thought back to the feeling of that hard body pressing you up against the wall, the disdain that had twisted his handsome face, the burning heat that had built up under his palms. A shiver went down your spine. It had seemed like he was a little more than salty, but if that’s how his friend wanted to put it, then fine.

“Well, thanks for the save anyway,” you said, giving Kaminari a little smile. “I’d definitely give you and Kirishima Rescue of the Year if I was pre-determining my results.”

Kaminari laughed, turning back to the door that Kirishima had dragged Bakugou through. As if on cue, a small boom sent the door swinging open a little. “Speaking of which, I’d better get back to make sure I don’t have to rescue the rescuer.”

He gave you a casual wave, then crossed to the door quickly. He hesitated at the threshold, then peeked back over his shoulder at you.

“By the way,” he said. “You might want to take a look at your dress. I, um, think Bakugou may have gotten a little carried away.”

He disappeared before you could ask what he meant, but a quick glance down clarified soon enough. Right on your abdomen, where Bakugou had pinned you against the wall, lay a scorched cut out, exactly in the shape of one large hand.

Your mouth dropped open in horror.

That fucking dick.

[fruitcoops]

I'm having a shit day all around and the only way it could be better is to have my sister around lol but she's away for college. I was wondering if you could do a fic with Jules or Reg? Where they're having an awful day and seek sibling hugs? :) Thank you

Anon, this is such a mood right now and I hope you can see your sister soon <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Regulus didn’t miss the Snakes. Far from it, actually—he hated them and everything they stood for, and he would never forgive them for what they did to his brother. For all he cared, they could burn alongside his parents.

But sometimes…sometimes he regretted dropping out of hockey.

The spotlight was constantly on Sirius, now; there were no more comparisons between the brothers, but that also meant the papers never looked deeper than the surface of Regulus’ personality. Sirius was overwhelmingly, ridiculously proud of him for going to college—almost too proud, in Regulus’ opinion—and lit up like a candle whenever it was brought up at an interview.

He’s my little brother, Sirius had said during the most recent conference. I’m happy he’s following his heart for once.

So reporters fawned over him whenever they saw him at the grocery store and peppered him with endless questions, only to sprinkle in the bare minimum around all the amazing, wonderful things Sirius had done in the past 24 hours since they last interrogated him. They spoke to Regulus like he was some dumb high schooler who had dropped out because he couldn’t handle the pressure—simpering, sympathetic, and a little pitying.

They didn’t care about him. They cared that he was the great Sirius Black’s kid brother, and there was nothing he could do about it now that he was off the ice.

Regulus scrolled past a few more articles with his face plastered on the front, gripping the cool marble countertop tightly. Let it roll off, he reminded himself. They don’t know you or Sirius.

NHL Dropout to Attend NYU

Younger Black ‘Following His Heart’

Sirius Black: Proudest Brother in the NHL

See Sirius Black’s New Interview Here!

“I’m heading out!” Remus called from the front door, snapping Regulus’ train of thought.

“Alright, drive safe.”

The door closed behind him with a clickand Regulus sighed, sliding down to sit on the floor. He rested his head back against the cabinets, simultaneously too upset to be productive and too energized to mope around. He lingered there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling, before sighing again and heading into the basement. Only one thing would make him feel better.

“Bonjour,” Sirius said absentmindedly as he skated along the outside of the rink.

“Got room for one more?”

Sirius looked up and grinned. “Course.”

Lacing his skates was muscle memory, and pushing out onto the ice was more of a relief than he cared to admit. Part of him had been afraid it would be soured by his decision to leave the NHL—maybe that was a silly thought, but hockey still held a large piece of his heart.

Maybe I’ll go back someday, he thought as he flicked a puck to Sirius. Not now, but…later.

The puck bounced off the front of his skates. “You’re thinking too loud.”

“You don’t think loud enough,” he countered.

Sirius barked a laugh and checked him lightly. “Head in the game, petit enfant. Head in the game.”

“I hate it when you call me that.”

“Why do you think I do it?”

“Because you’re an asshole.” He slapped the puck toward the goal, but it bounced off the crossbar. Irritation flared hot and white in his chest. “Pass it back, yeah?”

“There’s one right next to your—”

“Just pass it back!” Regulus snapped. His throat felt tight; the back of his neck itched, and there was unwelcome pressure building behind his eyes.

Sirius’ teasing smile dimmed. “Reg?”

He sniffled. “Just pass the fucking puck, okay?”

The soft shush of skates was familiar and more soothing than Regulus cared to admit. Nobody skated as quietly as Sirius—there was a reason they called him ‘Padfoot’ after all. He stared at the ground, willing the tears of hurt and frustration to vanish into thin air. Arms wound around him.

“Stop it,” he demanded, though his voice broke. “Sirius, let go.”

Sirius pulled him closer and rested his chin on top of his head. Regulus felt something crack a little inside, and his shoulders began to shake with silent sobs. Sirius rubbed his back like he was eight years old again, falling apart in the backyard because his feet hurt, and it was cold, and that stupid play just wasn’t clicking.

“Nobody likes me,” he blubbered. In any other scenario, he would’ve felt like the biggest wuss in North America, but Sirius was safe. Sirius was home.

“People like you.”

“Only because they like you better.” He took a few shallow gulps of air. “They—they pretend to care an’ I can’t even do anything about it anymore.”

“Is this about reporters?”

“It’s about everyone.”

Sirius sighed heavily. “Reg—”

“It’s fine, I can handle it—”

“Stop.” Silence fell over the rink. Sirius pulled back and held Regulus’ face between his hands, looking straight into his eyes. “You are outstanding, and one of the bravest people I know. If reporters don’t take the time to see that, they aren’t worth your energy.”

Regulus wiped his cheek dry. “I know.”

“And the Lions think you’re pretty damn cool, too. James is still waiting for that rematch after you kicked his ass. Leo’s your best friend. Remus has been talking about that book you recommended for a week straight, which I don’t know whether to thank you for—” That drew a weak laugh from him, and he saw Sirius’ face soften. “—and I’m your brother. I missed you, and I love you. So please don’t dwell on tabloids or some shit like that. They have no right to make you feel unloved.”

Regulus leaned forward into his chest with a few deep breaths. “How are you so good at pep talks?”

“Captain.”

“Ugh, right.”

“I was terrible at them in the beginning,” he said. Regulus snorted. “Ask Pots or Kasey sometime. It was mortifying. I’m pretty sure Coach almost took my badge away for that.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Now come on, your slapshot still sucks.”

“It does not!” Regulus protested, punching him in the arm as he pulled away. “My slapshot is perfect!”

“Tell that to the crossbar.” Sirius their skates together. “Come on, put some power into it!”

“I regret being related to you.”

“Says the one who got snot on my shirt five minutes ago.”

Regulus’ next (entirely perfect, thank you very much) slapshot went directly toward Sirius’ shin. He dodged, unfortunately, but the undignified yelp it earned him was well worth the trouble.

[hotlineslasher]

Interview With A Slasher

Rating: Explicit (I think?? I mean it’s smut)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Content (Vaginal Fingering), Danny is a confusing bastard 

A/N: I don’t want plot with my porn just feelings! This is my first fic I’ve ever posted pls be gentle with me I promise I’ll be better in the future and write less niche scorpio porn

AO3 link

***

When you first set foot into the entity’s perverted playworld, it was a hellscape made worse by how straight-up confusing everything was. Sure, the entity keeps on coming up with new insanities to throw at you, but over time you’ve learned there are rules that make things bearable. That make things make sense. If x, then y. If you break the don’t-drop-god-pallet rule, you get left to suffer on the hook longer. If you don’t unhook your teammates before the entity creeps down to thrash with them, you probably won’t escape with your life... or your friendship. If you don’t heal Bill quickly, his wheezing will be everyone’s downfall.

And, of course, if you so much as look at a killer outside of the trials, you’ll be cut off from the group.

Though it made all the sense in the world for survivors and killers to hook up in between hooking, you were the only one out of your little group to do the deed with one of the proverbial devils in your hell. Survivors smooching survivors was completely commonplace but you knew if they found out the infamous ghostface had taken very... different polaroids of you, they’d take it as a betrayal. Other survivors who weren't already spoken for were fair game, but choosing to interact with any of the killers was a statement.

So, despite Danny’s whining and bitching, you had made sure to be extremely careful. Which meant additional rules for the two of you. One of which was no sneaking off from the campfire, no matter how hard you could feel him staring at you from across the burning logs. Ironically, you weren't exactly sure where the two of you stood in the less literal sense. One dirty affair was more than enough for you, so you hadn't so much as looked at any of the survivors like that since your first hookup with Danny... but you didn't know if the same could be said for him. I mean, as ridiculous as the situation is, it would be nice to know what you meant to him. With Danny, it was kind of hard to tell. On one hand, he'd been... interested in you from the start. Any time you were in a trial together, you were his obsession, and it had always been like that. He was less lethal when it came to chasing you, like he enjoyed the game of cat and mouse when you were the one playing it with him. On the other, as much as he loved to stalk you, he wasn't exactly forthcoming about himself. Whenever you tried to get to know him beyond the ghostface mask, he'd distract you, or deflect, or get magically pulled away to a trial. Your gaze drifts over to where Nancy and Steve are huddled together, looking the very image of cutesy. Oh, to pick sensible romantic partners like Steve.

“You okay, kid?” Bill’s gruff voice pulls your focus from the flames you’ve been staring at to avoid Danny’s gaze. Ironically, Bill is sitting across from you so now you have a small excuse to glimpse in Danny’s direction. “Bad trial?” The old man prompts.

Your shoulders pull up in a shrug, “I mean, when is there ever a good trial?” Your answer isn’t cheery by any stretch, but that’s one of your favorite things about Bill. Talking to him, you don’t feel any pressure to bullshit and act optimistic.

A husky laugh rattles out of him and immediately you feel more at ease, like you’re just hanging out with peepaw. “Fair point,” he nods. “Who was it? One of the more fucked-up ones?”

It actually makes you snort, because intuitively you sort of know which select killers he’s referring to. “Yeah, it was the clown. I swear to god, I inhaled so much of that shit my voice is going to start sounding like yours,” you smile, eyeing Bill with the fondness of grandpa’s favorite grandkid.

Bill rolls his eyes and it looks like he’s going to fire back some sass when suddenly Ace comes sauntering over to clap a hand on his back. “Sorry to interrupt, hot stuff, but I need you to come teach the new girl that trick against slugging.” Ace tilts his head towards where Feng and Elodie are sitting a couple yards away, both audibly pissed at having been left to bleed out on the ground.

“Oh, sure, sure.” Bill nods as he gets up from his seat, always one to have his priorities clearly in check. Another one of the unspoken rules. Someone needs some guidance in the trials, you give it to them without hesitation. You still owed Meg for teaching you how to slip into lockers quietly. “Wait— you uh, you gonna be okay on your own?” The old man is standing like he’s ready to go with Ace, but his eyes are hard and clearly telling you he’ll stay with you if you need him to.

Ace opens his mouth, probably to offer to keep you company, but you’re not like Bill. Waving them both off, your eyes fall on where Danny is crouched in the shadows. Your priorities are nowhere NEAR where they should be, you think, waiting for them to take a few steps away before you break your very cardinal rule: no sneaking away at the campfire.

His hands were on you immediately and your adrenaline ran hot in response. “You have to be quiet, Danny,” you reminded him quickly, keenly aware of his penchant for risky dirty talk.

“Aww, but I thought you hated it when I was quiet!” You couldn’t see his face behind his mask, but god, you could feel the dramatic pout. His fingers slid across your hips, pulling you into him aggressively. “Or do you just need some foreplay first?” He purred, one palm slipping down underneath your skirt to grab at the flesh of your ass. “Fuck, I love it when she puts you in this.”

“Danny!” You hissed, nerves ablaze with proximity-based anxiety. You were playing with fire by even letting him get this far and you knew it. Danny was the kind of guy who you couldn’t give an inch to because he’d take a yard and would make it feel so good you’d happily give him a mile no matter how many warning alarms went off in your head. “If any of them-“

“I know, I know, if any of them find out you’d be a pariah, blah blah blah... hey, I didn’t know you liked the old fucker so much,” Danny says completely casually, his palm smoothing over your asscheek absentmindedly.

You sigh, hating how you can already feel yourself melting a bit under his touch. “Feeling jealous?” You breathe, looking up into the black mesh that’s hiding his eyes from you.

He has the audacity to snort, the cocky son of a bitch. “Fuck no,” he chuckles light-heartedly. “You’re lucky I don’t spank you raw just for suggesting that.” You feel the points of his fingers dig into the skin of your ass with the threat. Suddenly his other hand is on your face, cradling your jaw gently. “I just wanna know more shit about you,” he says plainly, his two hands sending two very different signals to your touch-starved brain, both of them good.

You lean into the one that’s framing your cheek, hating yourself for how handsy you’re letting him be when you’re both close enough to hear Bill bark out directions. “Yeah? You wanna know who’s my bff back at the campfire?” It’s sarcastic and you know you immediately need to make up for it unless you want to tempt him into making you scream. You decide you’ll placate him by turning your face and pressing a kiss into his gloved palm. You think you catch the faintest sigh from him for your effort.

“I do,” he grunts as his hand turns to cover your mouth, his fingertips pressing into your cheeks. “I wanna know everything about you.” Coming from someone else, it might sound romantic. But Danny’s voice is dark, teetering on obsessive. From a different person, the words might paint a picture of lovely dates and idyllic late-night conversations. But from his masked mouth, they scream stalking. Looking at you when you don’t know he’s there, sifting through your belongings, hoarding candids of you that you’ll never know exist.

“So come on, is it the geezer? You know, thinking back on it, he does love to take hits for you,” Danny muses, his mood suddenly light again.

You roll your eyes, reaching up to pull his palm off your mouth when you feel his grip soften. “Sure, I guess Bill is my bff. I have to fight Ace for him though, so I don’t know how mutual it is,” you shrug. It’s irrelevant shit, you know it is, and you can’t see his face to make sure, but you suspect Danny’s listening intently to you anyways. Like he’d be happy to hear you prattle on about the social dynamics between the people he loves to gut. The undivided attention fills you with yearning and his gloved finger is in your mouth before the thought is even fully formed. You don’t know how much of your heat he can actually feel through the thick fabric, but based on how his fingers slip under your panties, it’s doing something for him.

“God, you’re such a slut,” he hisses, the fingers in your panties now prodding at your slit. “You don’t know how bad I want to pull out my dick and make you choke on it right now.” His arousal feeds yours like it always does and combined with the leather slipping between your folds, you don’t stand a chance. Fuck the rules. You lathe at his finger happily, but Danny has other plans and before you know it your mouth is empty. Your eyebrows pull up in confusion and he shushes you sweetly. “I wanna hear more,” he explains, his fingers inching towards your hole. “Tell me,” he urges, “tell me everything and I’ll make you cum, beautiful.”

His slow attack on you has you biting your lip and failing to decipher what he specifically wants to hear. “W... what do you want to— know?” You breathe, both of your hands finding themselves on his chest for support.

“Which one of them was your first friend here?” He asks as one of his long fingers penetrates you lazily. He wastes no time in establishing the sensual rhythm, but you know Danny, and you know it’ll all stop unless you play his weird games. Today, it’s whatever the hell this line of questioning is.

You blink, trying to come up with an answer while he massages your walls. “Meg,” you finally answer, your nails digging into the leather covering his chest. He doesn’t answer right away and you bite back a smile. “The redhead,” you clarify. Of course he wouldn’t know anybody’s names, duh, you’re letting a killer fingerfuck you right now.

Pleased that you’ve caught onto what he wants, Danny slips another finger into you and makes you keen like a teenager. “Who would you bring back with you, if you could go back to your old life?” Both the question and the spot his second finger rubs up against take you by surprise and you almost cry out. The contrast between how well you know each other’s most sensitive spots and how little you know about each other’s ‘old lives’ gives you a weird feeling in your stomach. “Shhh,” Danny taunts happily, “we have to be quiet, remember?” His smirk is pretty much audible as he throws your words back in your face.

You shoot him a glare in response but grab onto one of his outfit’s tendrils to hopefully try and ground yourself. “Who’s your bff?” You suddenly ask, taking you both by surprise. His fingers keep moving but it’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to flip his inquiry back on him. You can't blame him, you weren't expecting you to do that either. The quiet milliseconds feel like hours and you find yourself starting to sweat a bit more. Fuck, was that not okay? His fingers stay inside you, moving at their same rhythm, but you're to busy overthinking to keep climbing towards your orgasm right now.

“Amanda, probably,” Danny responds with a small shrug. You feel yourself start to breathe again. “Oh,” he giggles, “you wouldn’t know her name, right. The Pig,” he clarifies quickly before shifting his focus to your clit.

A sigh tumbles out of you as he rubs it with just enough pressure to make you sink your nails into the cloth of the tendril. Like always, Danny’s mind and body seem to be on two different paths as he starts plunging his digits in faster. “Danny,” you beg, desperately wanting a beat to think about the information he just gave you but not finding it in his new rhythm.

“Come on, you didn’t answer my second question. You’re lucky you look so fucking hot right now or else I’d leave you high and dry... well, maybe I will...” he threatens and you press your forehead into his chest, trying to communicate how badly you do /not/ want that to happen.

“Fuck, fuck,” you pant, brain whirring trying to remember his question. Honestly? It’d been so long since you let yourself think of your ‘old life,’ you didn’t really have an answer thought out. “I don’t— know,” you pull back to look at him through his mask, “I don’t think about my old— my old life anymore.” You’re not sure if it’ll piss him off because you’ve again failed to answer the question but Danny tends to like honesty so you pray he lets it slide. Because, fuck, his thumb on your clit like it is has you ready to drench him at any moment.

He’s quiet for a second. His head tilts. And then you hear his gruff sigh and suddenly his pace becomes even more lethal. Your knees buckle but his other hand wraps around your waist like a vice and you swear some of the tendrils seem to reach out towards you too. If you thought it felt heavenly before, it was nothing compared to how he was touching you now. Your own hand has to slap across your mouth to stop you from moaning like a whore. “Good,” he hisses, his voice low. “Don’t ever think about it,” he demands, “you’re here, now.” Your vision swims as you tear up, his assault on your heat making you shake. “You’re never getting rid of me, you understand?” His voice sounds obsessive again but it only gets you hotter.

You both know you’re going to cum any second, there’s no way you could properly respond to the insane shit he’s saying right now, you can barely even process it. So, instead, you choose to be risky again and move the hand that’s covering your mouth to his neck instead and pull his mask to meet your lips.

Your eyes jam shut as your hips seize and sharp jolts of white-hot pleasure wrack your entire being. You hope you’re quiet but honestly, mid-orgasm you can only hear Danny’s erratic panting. For a few precious seconds, while your body is flooded with endorphins from his ministrations, it’s just you and him. Your mouth pulls away slightly while you ride the orgasm but he closes the distance between you instantly, pressing his masked mouth to yours.

The blood pounding in your ears starts to slow down and your eyes open back up slowly. You’re so close you can see through the mesh and into his irises. His pupils are completely blown out and it gives him a downright feral look you know should really scare you. But it doesn’t. After all, that’s the real first rule you broke.

You pull away and lean your head on his shoulder when you start to worry he'll hear how your heart is beating out of your chest, your panting far quieter now though it’s still rugged as hell. “Who...” you pipe up when you feel his fingers slip out of you, “who would you...?” Your brain is still way too fuzzy from the hormones to fully articulate what you mean. Hopefully he gets that you’re asking his question back and doesn’t think you just sound like an idiot—

You feel his chest shake when he rumbles out a chuckle above you. From where you’re angled, you get to watch him bring his fingers up to his mouth from behind the mask. A small groan escapes him at tasting you and your chest soars with confidence. He thinks you taste good. Better than good, given how much time he’s spending savoring every last drop on his tongue. You almost forget about your question at the show, but you remember instantly when his raspy voice rattles out, “isn’t it obvious?”

You blink slowly and then suddenly you feel a swell of affection for him as you get his meaning.

Out of everyone, even the killers, you. He’d choose you.

[sanzuslover]

daddy tonight

shigaraki tomura x all mights daughter reader

warnings: yandere behavior, stalking, death threats, misogyny?, kidnapping, non-con, domestic abuse, daddy kink, ect.

<3

you were all might’s daughter, everyone fancied you, you shined bright like the stars. shigaraki hated you so much, you were 2 years younger than him, 18, yet you were still a popular and successful hero.

you were ridiculously hot, but that wasn’t all…you were literally his most hated hero daughter, shigaraki had been stalking you ever since you were 14, he was young too so he didn’t see anything wrong with it.

it was a miracle how he didn’t decay you, he could if he wanted to, maybe when you were younger but definitely not now, now you were a hero a real hero and not one in training.

he had smelled your panties and stolen your belongings in various occasions but you never seemed to notice— of course someone like you wouldn’t.

shigaraki wrote everything down about you, he studied and observed you a lot, but lately he can’t since you turned 18 and there’s a lot of other men dying to marry you, who wouldn’t wanna marry all might’s daughter?

ever since you turned 18, you’ve been acting like those dumb whores he hated, shigaraki is a man who is always busy so he still is a virgin, it made him mad how there’s a small possibility that you aren’t one.

it would be unfair he thought to himself, he waited all these years for you yet all you did was go on live tv and show the whole world your very tight hero suit and that cute innocent little face.

you always blushed when being interviewed, he thought it was cute but only him should see you like that, you always looked so needy, like a whore.

he could tell you were a daddy’s girl, always whining and crying when things didn’t go the way you wanted them to— he thought you and him both had that in common.

•

its 6:38 pm as shigaraki plays with his cock, he keeps on stroking his manhood till he cums all over your face, well the poster in his room that has your face on it.

“i actually am dating someone!” you say

shigaraki almost broke his scarred neck and he looked over to the tv screen and saw you and a man…what? what could you be doing with him? shigarki couldn’t understand.

you smile and blush at the camera and the man puts his hands around your waist, he brings his handsome face close to yours and kisses you, you of course kiss him back, the lady interviewing you cheer you both on.

shigaraki hands fly to his neck and he starts scratching and crying at what he’s seeing right now, how dare you? how dare you (name)? he still can’t understand why.

“…this brat…i need to go now!” shigaraki yells.

he grabs his coat and leaves the new lov hideout, he doesn’t know why but he feels he has been a little too nice to you, you’re taking him for granted.

shigaraki arrives and waits for you, its early and he knows for a fact that you’ll be here late so he just waits in your house, he decayed your front door.

•

you were a bit drunk and your boyfriend senju had left you, you get in your car and drive back to your house, your dress was so tight it made you mad so you took it off.

you prayed and begged nobody saw you like this, what would people say if they say all might’s daughter with only a bra and panties, they were sexy too.

it was late at night so you could barely see and so it made you calm down a bit since you were almost naked, you went in your bag searching for your keys but almost died as you say your door…it was gone?

“hah what the hell” you whisper to yourself and walked in

you wish you didn’t since now someone was chaining you with some anti-quirk chains, you screamed at the person but they only laughed, the lights were turned off so you couldn’t see them.

“S-STOP Y-YOU WHAT ARE YOU DOING???! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM” you said

the person— man now laughs and your stomach now hurts from it, he was a villain, you could tell with that laugh of his, he came close to your ear, his hot breath hit your ear.

“of course i know who you are (name)” he said slowly

you screamed and started moving trying to fight against him but it didn’t work, he only laughed at how pathetic you looked trying to push him off.

“come here, i won’t hurt you” he whispered in your ear and you just cried and closed your eyes

he grabbed you and pulled you up the stairs where your room was at, he laid you down on your bed and locked the door, he then turned on the light.

you instantly cried when you saw him, he was the villain who invaded ua— the school your dad worked with. he started laughing like a psychopath.

“…that face, ive waited years to see you like that” he said and sized you up and down

you shook your head and cried even more.

“i can’t believe you became such a slut, wearing that really? are you trying to provoke me?” he said as he walked closer to you, he touched your hair with 3 of his fingers

“…(name) do you know who i am?” he asked

“…y-yes” you told him

“no, do you know who i REALLY am?” he asked and looked you in the eyes

you only shook your head and he smiled at that, he started taking his shirt and pants off, you looked at him confused, he was getting naked.

“s-stop!” you told him

you started to move around but shigaraki quickly sat on top of you, he looked at you and you cringed, you shook your head ‘no’ and he laughed.

he grabbed your face with 4 fingers and looked you in the eyes, your eyes looked so innocent and pleading to him, he creepily smiled when you started gagging.

“hahahahah hahahah, so…you smelled me right? i haven’t showered in weeks!” he told you in a mean manner

you gagged and looked at him as if he was the ugliest creature ever to exist.

“plwease ewa you’re so smelly! and ugly! get off me!” you screamed and cried but shigaraki had enough of you

he slapped you and pulled down your panties, he started pumping his 2 bony fingers into you in a unpleasant and fast manner, you cried even more.

“S-STOWPP!” you yelled

“hah, don’t you EVER treat me like that bitch or i’ll kill you!” he yelled back at you

you gasped and looked at him with a scared face, he was threatening to kill you…he wouldn’t do it right? he could end your life with all 5 of his fingers, it terrified you.

“n-no s-sorry…” you whispered and shook your head trying to convince him

“im going to hurt you real bad if you act all naughty now” he warned you

you started to cry and moan when he kept on scissoring you with his fingers, he did it so rough and to his surprise you were really tight, he smiled at this.

he started kissing your cunt and he pulled his fingers out of you, you felt empty and he chuckled when he saw your disappointed face.

he kept on kissing and tongue fucking your pussy so hard and good that you couldn’t stop crying and moaning, this was like heaven to him.

“you like it don’t ya” he asked you

you moaned and cried out to him but this made him mad, what did you do wrong? you should be the one mad, not him.

“when i ask a question you answer me…got that!” he slightly yelled at you

“mhm!” you screamed and cried when he slapped your pussy, it hurts so much.

“s-sir shigaraki” you said and he slapped your pussy again, causing you to moan and cry

“it’s tenko” he said

“h-huh?” you asked, he looked at you and told you

“i said call me tenko” he said and then started rubbing his fingers up and down your cunt.

“ah~uh” you moaned

“imagine what all might must think if he saw you like this…getting fingered by a villain…” he evilly stated

you started crying and screaming at the thought of that, you were a hero…getting fingered by a villain, a villain who hates your dad, how disappointing.

shigaraki turned you around and pushed his dick all the way up your pussy, he then grabbed your hair and whispered in your ear

“your daddy must be proud don’t ya think?” he whispered

you shook your head ‘no’

“doesn’t matter cause from now on im your daddy” he laughed and pulled your hair even more

“w-what do you want ah~” you moaned

“y-you” shigaraki was slightly out of breath, your body looked so perfect like this, all for him.

“w-what do you mean?” you nervously questioned

“you know w-what i mean ah” he moaned as he started slamming faster into you, your ass bounced on his belly and he smiled at this.

“so good~” he whispered

“ah AH t-there!” you moaned and whined, shigaraki groaned.

“so fucking good for me ngh” he moaned, yet all you could think about was your father, it was killing you.

you were getting off to a villain fucking you, how disgusting. you should be ashamed of yourself, what if he came in you?

“hey pay attention bitch!” shigaraki snapped his fingers at you “can’t believe you’re ignoring me”

“s-sowy” you cried and shigaraki pulled out and flipped you over, his hair hitting your face, he was sweating and so were you.

you’re cheeks and lips were red, his cheeks were red too. he then started to put his very long veiny dick in your pussy, he groaned.

“ah~ yes… a woman like you deserves to be treated like a slut…not a hero” he told you as he looked you directly in the eyes, his look was so intimidating.

you whined when he said that, you knew, well more like you believed that if you were a boy all might and everyone else would be way more proud of you.

“i-its hurts s-sir tenko” you whined for him and he started aggressively slamming his hips into you “AHHH~ T-TENKO!”

“mhm i knew you would like this, you’re such a dirty girl, call me daddy” he groaned out, he watched as your tits moved up and down, so hot.

you thought about it, he’s literally fucking you without your permission! he came and disintegrated your door, it was expensive! how will your dad react to thi-

“AGH NGHH D-DADDY, TENKO S-STAWP” you moaned with tears in your eyes and shigaraki drooled all over your tits and stomach, it was so nasty.

“mhm, my good girl, i see you’re learning your place…” he said and a feeling inside your stomach started growing, it felt so hot and you knew what was gonna happen.

“im g-gonna i-ima cum!” you moan out and cum on his dick, your pussy clenched around his dick in a filthy way, how file of you.

“uh-uh what a bad girl…and here i thought you were behaving good” shigaraki told you with a dry laugh, your eyes widened in fear as his hand came to grab your neck.

with tears in your eyes you looked up to him, his bloody eyes were staring into your soul, you started shaking and gasping for air, you thought he was going to kill you.

“i could kill you right now if i wanted to…” he told you and looked down to your red glossy lips “but i won’t…never”.

he forcefully kissed you and you allowed him to since you were scared he was going to disintegrate you, it was a horrifying thought.

he moaned into the kiss, he was waiting for this, to feel your lips on his, even if it was by force…he doesn’t regret anything at all, he loves it all.

with his free hand, he started playing with your right breast, he pinched your nipples and you opened your mouth to protest but shigaraki just inserted his tongue into your mouth.

you arched your back and started kissing him back, the feeling was good but it was bad, this felt like a sin, a very dirty and taunting sin.

he then let go off your neck, and allowed you to finally breathe, it felt good but then he started pulling it in, again, you both moaned.

he started moving, it hurt, he was going a little too fast and the look in his face scared you, he looked as if he going to kill you, what did you do wrong?

tomura had remembered why he even came here…because of that damn tall handsome male, he was jealous and he lost control, something in him was telling him to punish you— that you deserved this.

“you know, i was mad at you…no…i AM mad at you! how dare you go with that brat…he doesn’t deserve you, no one does!” he screamed at you with angry eyes, he then started pulling out of you.

“w-wha-“ you tried to talk but he shushed you and sat on the right side of the bed, he grabbed a fist full of your hair and looked at you in the eyes while talking.

“i spent almost my whole life loving you! and this…this is how you repay me! how embarrassing of me to fall in love with the daughter of the person i most hate in the world! i hate everything and everyone!”

you shook at his words, your tears were falling down your face like a lake, your lashes were wet and scalp was in pain, he was gripping your hair a bit too tight.

“i’ll kill him, everyone! him, your dad, all of them!” he screamed and then started crying.

“don’t you understand…? these heroes, your dad, they don’t love you! i did and do everything for you! yet all you is be ungrateful, i’ll make you learn!”

he pulled you by the hair and off the bed, he pushed you on your knees and forced your mouth opened, you started crying even more and trying to stand up but couldn’t when he pushed his dick all the way in your mouth, down to your throat.

“a-ah yes…now you’re being useful! you need to understand that im the only person who loves you” he said and you looked up to him through your thick lashes and rosy cheeks.

you looked so cute, like always, he thought he could take a picture of you and so he let go of your hair and grabbed his phone that was on the bed, you started shaking and asking questions but he just shut you up with his dick, again.

“i love you but you gotta learn” he said and started pushing your head up and down…faster and faster until he came, it felt so good and he pulled out to let some of his cum fall on your face.

“aww don’t look at me like that, smile, all heroes smile right!?” he said and slapped you when you didn’t smile, you cried and obeyed him this time.

“good good…” he said as he took a picture of you with a sad smile, you looked so hot, all for him, oh and your dad.

“i wonder what all might would say if he saw this…” shigaraki tormented you, you cried and begged him not to show anyone the picture.

“t-tenko p-pwease n-no…” you cried and crawled to him, he looked down on you and kissed you, you kissed back, scared.

he picked you up and sat you on the bed, he told you to go to sleep, but you shook your head ‘no’.

“(name), i said go to sleep” he said as he walked over to you, he got a blanket and covered you with it, he didn’t take off the chains on your wrists.

“…i w-won’t tell anyone about this…just please…don’t show my dad that picture, tenko” you looked at him with sad eyes.

“…okay” he whispered

shigaraki wanted to laugh in your face but, he decided to be nice and so he turned off the lights, and waited for you to go to sleep, and so when you did, he turned on his phone.

everything was going to be so good now, he’ll finally have you, he’s going to cum in you and breed you, he knows you’ll be a great mom.

he laughed at the thought of how all might and everyone would react to this, what expression would all might do if he saw your belly growing, his grandchildren will be the children of a villain, the one who hates him the most.

shigaraki looked at your beautiful sleeping face and smiled, he planted a kissed on your forehead and looked for all might’s number on his phone, he had it since he stalked you.

he clicked on it and send it to him, shigaraki laughed at this, would you get in trouble? doesn’t matter cause tonight he’s your daddy.

{end}

[otptings]

Attention

Idol; Johnny

Genre; Fluff, Smut

Warnings; implied switch!Johnny, mentions of edging, shower sex, fingering, unprotected sex

Synopsis; It's hard getting enough time to be intimate together while living with 8 other men, but there's always a work around.

Despite what others may think, it is easy to get Johnny worked up.

Ridiculously easy.

Run fingers through his hair, give it a pull and he'll be a moaning mess. Kissing his jaw, or the spot right behind his ear will cause him to let out a whine. Placing my finger's lightly on his neck before giving it a squeeze makes him cum untouched.

I like to have fun with him. Running my fingers down his chest, pinching one of his nipples. All while jerking him off at an incredibly slow pace, bringing tears to his eyes as he can't get enough. Teasing him until he gets mad and pins me against the nearest surface. Mirrors, walls, desks. All are free game.

It's been hard to get time to ourselves recently. A new album goes hand in hand with a comeback. Hours of practice for to learn new choreography, photo shoots for magazines which last hours with all 10 of us being photographed. Hours worth of interviews, together and individually, YouTube videos and Vlives for fans to keep them entertained. Don't even get me started on performances, hours spent getting out hair and makeup done, waiting so that we can perform, taking multiple takes if the first isn't good enough.

It's insanely busy work, that I love with all of my heart. I love my boys, but sometimes I just one on one time with Johnny. Weeks without being touched, nothing more than a kiss or a grope every now and again. Having to keep skinship to a minimum due to the cameras constantly on us.

Moments like these are hard on both of us, not being able to be intimate together. Simples touches are never enough. This can be solved however, with one text. A text that I love because it gets Johnny worked up. The perfect teasing text even though we know how it'll end up.

Shower?🚿

I heard Johnny's phone ping from where he was, on the opposite couch from me. Glancing up I saw a blush spreading across his cheeks, could see him swallow as he looked around at the other boys. Checking to see if they noticed. They never do. Too busy watching Mark and Haechan argue playfully over something meaningless. No eyes were on Johnny, comfortably seated between Jaehyun, and Taeil.

I know all of Johnny's tells. The way his legs that are slightly spreading still leaving space for the others on the couch start to close a little bit, his hand moving down to cover his crotch. The glance he takes, before looking back at his phone. Clearly thinking of a response.

I didn't bother waiting for his reply, just headed to my room to get some clean clothes. Whether he joined or not I would enjoy my shower. Walking into the bathroom I made sure to turn on my speaker, letting music flow throughout the bathroom.

Stripping out of my clothes I tossed them in the hamper, before finally stepping into the shower and releasing a sigh. The warm water running over my skin, soothing my aching joints from dance practice. Soaking my hair I grabbed the shampoo, starting to wash my hair when I heard the click of the door locking. Johnny didn't speak as he stripped and got into the shower behind me.

I felt him push my hands away, and start washing my hair for me. Detangling it as he went before rinsing the shampoo out. Turning back around I looked up at Johnny admiring him. His hair wet and pushed back, his face still flushed from my teasing.

"Hi baby." I watched a smile spread across his lips, his arms going around my waist pulling me to his chest.

"Hi baby girl." Leaning down Johnny connected our lips. It's been weeks since I've had Johnny like this.

All for me, not having to share him with fans, or the other members that like his attention. Just me, all of his attention solely on me. It felt too good to be true sometimes.

Our lips moved in sync as his hands slid down my body. Stopping at my ass he gave it squeeze, causing me to let out a moan that was eaten by our kiss. His hands rubbed up and down my body, teasing me. I pulled away from the kiss and poked my lips out.

"Please touch me." Johnny let out a chuckle as he turned me around still keeping me close. He pushed my hair out of the way before placing sloppy kisses on my neck, sucking a hickey at the base.

"You're greedy, you want me to touch you more huh?" I nodded my head, getting my wishes answered as his hands went to my breasts, playing with them gently before pinching my nipples causing me to let out a squeak.

One hand continued to fondle with my breasts as his other trailed down my body, causing goosebumps in it's wake despite the warm water. His fingers met my clit, rubbing teasing circles.

"Stop t-teasing p-p-please... I need you." Johnny listened to me and slipped his hand further down, sliding a finger into my hole. I threw my head back against his chest, a sigh leaving my mouth. After weeks of having to touch myself I got the sensation that I was craving for so deeply.

"You're so wet for me. You missed me?" I nodded my head not bothering to hide my moans.

"I missed you too baby girl. I need to be in you." I felt him grind his erection against my ass, causing me to whimper.

"Please."

"Please what? You got to ask clearly." He slipped another finger, massaging my walls. I felt all of my control leaving, not caring if the boys heard or knew what we were doing. I just needed to have Johnny inside of me, his fingers teasing around my g spot, ghosting over it but not fully touching it. I needed him.

"Please f-fuck me need you s-so bad." Johnny laughed, hearing my desperation. Pulling his fingers out I whimpered at the loss of sensation, even though I knew he was going to fuck me. Turning me back around Johnny hiked my leg up around his waist, his other hand holding me around my back. Grabbing his dick I slid it up and down my cunt, gathering my juices on it to help the slide. Lining it up with my cunt I pushed the tip in, allowing Johnny to finish the thrust himself.

As Johnny bottomed out he let out a groan, I whimpered at the stretch. The burn accompanying the pleasure that I got from simply being fulled.

"Are you okay baby girl?" I hand slid up to my face cupping my cheek.

"Yes please." Johnny leaned in for a kiss, before thrusting up into me. Wrapping my arms around his neck I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling it after the head of his cock rubbed over my g spot. Johnny hissed as pulled away from the kiss. Whining I pulled his mouth back towards mine. Johnny chuckled into the kiss, obliging my request.

That came as a price however when he started to thrust into me rougher, causing me to let out a load moan.

"Be careful. Don't want the boys to hear you do you?" I felt embarrassment spark through me at the thought of them hearing me over the music, and the water. Would they realize that I was that desperate? That I couldn't wait any longer, and needed Johnny in me?

I squealed as Johnny picked me up, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. I felt the cold tile on my back as Johnny slid back into me smoothly. Placing kisses on Johnny's neck I heard him let out a growl before fucking into me faster. His cock dragging against my walls beautifully, the head rubbing over my spot causing endless moans to fall from my mouth.

"So good for me baby. You're pussy takes me in so well." Johnny's praise only fueled the fire in me. The mixed sensations of the warm water running over us, and the cold tile against my back caused shivered to run down my body. I felt as if my whole body was electrocuted as Johnny drove deeper and deeper into me. "The way you're squeezing around me is so good. I can tell you're close cum for me."

At Johnny's word the tension inside of me finally snapped, my eyes rolled back as I orgasmed, Johnny still thrusting inside of me chasing his own. I barely heard his groan as he came, only felt his warm cum as it spurted into me. Johnny continued to hold me against the wall, ignoring the sensation of my legs shake as he laid kisses all over my face.

Johnny pulled his softening cock out, causing us to both to let out a whine at the feeling. Pulling me back under the water he grabbed the rag and helped clean the sweat and cum off of me, placing gentle kisses on my shoulders and neck.

Turning the water off, we got out of the shower Johnny lifting me up and placing me on the sink. Typically I'd do this all myself after sex but I've missed Johnny caring for me.

The way he rubbed the tower gently over my skin, making sure not to hurt me as he rubbed it over my used pussy. The way he gently detangles my hair as he dries it, making sure not to rub too harshly. The feeling of him taking care of me, as he whispers sweet words to me between drying me off.

Finally after drying, and putting on clean clothes we made our way to my room. Johnny laying on the bed first before pulling me down on top of him. Not even bothering to get under the blanket I enjoyed the sound and feel of his heart beat. Hearing his quiet breaths as his hands gently ran over my lower back, rubbing soothing circles into the exposed skin.

Moments like these, having all of Johnny's attention are always the most intimate. I'm grateful I get to experience them with the love of my life.

-

"Do they think we don't know what they're doing?" Haechan glanced over at Doyoung and Jaehyun who had amused looks on their faces. Seeing Johnny run off quickly after you got in the shower, and hearing the music get louder when the door opened were all obvious giveaways.

"Eh you're worst than them anyway." Jaehyun let out a laugh watching Mark's face go red, and Haechan's teasing smirk grow.

[kkyujikoo]

These are my... 2...? Maybe 50, cents about the whole "freejk" thing. I'm gonna be extremely petty and at some points a whole lot sarcastic and it's gonna be long but I had to say it. As soon as I get my computer I'm gonna make it under read more, but the app does whatever it wants, as we know.

Listen, this ain't my first fan rodeo, and not even the first fan rodeo where I've been directly or indirectly accused of being some sort of pervert or delulu. I've been in fandom spaces since I was a teen, I was shipping mlm couples when queerbaiting in TV shows was still something that was seen as the norm rather than some cheap disgusting trick. I was there when fanfic spaces saw "slash" fics as something "different" and to be tagged with a more mature rating even when they just looked at each other.

I was in BBC's Sherlock's fandom and I shipped Johnlock during the hiatus between S3 and S4, at this point I'm not even feeling it when people call me delulu or a weirdo.

So, yeah, take this with a grain of salt: as a person who has seen thousands of times fandom drama unfolding and has lived too much of it... This whole situation is so ridiculous it makes me laugh. Like, yeah, it's maddening how people will blame anyone and everyone because they don't even see their own bias and homophobia, granted, but like... It also makes me laugh for the sheer dumbassery of the reasoning behind it all?

Like... Y'all are getting mad and for what? Because it sure as hell isn't the invasion of privacy, since y'all are watching the same content we're all watching and you're paying to see it the same way everyone else is. If you don't want to "invade their privacy", you should just... Stop watching content that isn't their music videos, RUN episodes or interviews. Memories and any kind of dvd/video that shows what they're doing behind the scenes shouldn't be part of their job as musicians, and therefore we're intruding in their privacy... Or aren't we?

Or maybe it's more nuanced than that: maybe the content they release on dvd/on their official channels is part of their job as entertainers, and it's been approved, and it's a small window THEY are granting us.

You know what's the REAL invasion of privacy and what REALLY invalidates someone autonomy? When you, who maybe aren't even paying to see that content (which is something I understand, like, dude, I'm not covered in money either), DEMAND what kind of behind the scenes content you want when I swear ABSOLUTELY NO ONE has asked you. Once again: you don't like it? You think it's some huge invasion of privacy? Don't buy it. Don't interact with it. Convince your friends to do the same. For all I care, just go and petition to boycott this kind of content. I know you won't do it, because... That's the thing, isn't it? It's not the invasion of privacy that bothers these people.

Y'all aren't mad because we get into their business or else you would have gotten real mad when we were privy to REAL private moments like people crying their hearts out.

No, no. Y'all are mad because it's "shipping content" and "fanservice" which apparently bothers you because it lacks authenticity.

Pick a side, lovelies: either you DON'T want to invade their privacy, and thus all the content they release should be focused on what fans want to see, or you WANT to know how they interact TRULY in private.

And here's the catch: "shipping content" can be anything. Shipping existed WAAAAAYYY before the word for it was invented, same way with fanfictions. Shipping means, literally, "seeing two (or more) people interact and thinking they would make a good romantic pair". That's it. That's quite literally it. Everything else is just some nuance of the concept of shipping, but at its core, it's nearly impossible to ban all shipping content when it's a group of seven people, because they should for real go in social distancing mode to do so. Most people who have parasocial relationships tend to have "ships" whether they know it or not, because we've all, at least once, looked at a dynamic from the outside and thought "oh man they look cute together". So, even if, o dear ones, your wishes were granted... What the hell do you mean by "shipping" content? Should they just film solo clips, avoiding talking about the other members? But wouldn't that be fanservice, since it's focused on pleasing the fans? (Which, ultimately, is what fanservice MEANS, and I hate to break it to y'all but the whole concept behind entertainment and thus all the content BTS releases it's... For the fans. Like, they're not going out of their way to just meet our expectations but they're certainly doing fanservice by the mere act of releasing bonus content.)

But it's not even quite that, is it? Because no one bats an eye if it's Tae kissing Nj's cheek. I've seen no hashtag against everyone - and I mean literally every one of them - wolf whistling at Nj. It's okay to show intimacy... Because they're bandmates and it's okay to be close to someone who you see basically 24/7, I hear you. And it's also okay when people see that and gush over that closeness, because it's such a nice thing to see.

Soooooo... We've got to free JK from whom exactly? From what?

Are y'all mad cause people pointed out there's very little way a bruise that stayed for a whole ass night could be a quick bite? Because that doesn't harm jk, at most makes fun of him and jimin and their poor excuses (seriously, guys, next time consider using mosquitoes or "I was doing stuff". It'll be equally embarrassing but at least the meme will be funny), and it's literally... A fair observation. Like. It's a hickey, people are gonna make jokes about seeing a hickey and poor excuses of covering it up in the exact same way they're gonna make jokes over jimin falling out of chairs. And yeah, a hickey is AT LEAST something that happens in a sensual context. Like, I could understand "people who are extremely familiar with each other will have different body language/touch in areas where usually you wouldn't see friends touching each other", but that's not. Not a hand on the thigh. It's a hickey on the neck. I don't even know a more stereotypical placing for a hickey. But once again, are y'all mad because someone is pointing it out? Because that's not being delulu or even being a shipper, really, it's just commenting on something that was approved to be shown and discussed in something that was released BY THEM.

Are y'all mad at hybe for showing something that literally fell onto their hands? Cause like, unless someone (I'm counting on Jimin, since as we know Jungkook was busy spinning him round and round and had both his hands busy) called at hybe headquarters to say "yo bang pd substitute, is it okay if I give my friend jk here a hickey? Cause he's being really annoying rn and he has to pay", I highly doubt anyone expected Jungkook to come to rehearsal all neatly marked up. Or idk, maybe someone at hybe asked them "we need Jungkook to come in with a hickey but refuse to say it's a hickey, so that fans will feel reeeeally served." That sounds perfectly plausible too. Or a good marketing strategy.

Now, if you're a big company and your objective is to have some footage of the rehearsals for a concert, and the fandom is too good at noticing stuff for their own good, and one of your artists comes in with a very visible mark, and he and his bff bropal4lyfe come n with a story about how they were playing and a bite happened, you've got three choices: 1. Cut the artist out of aaaaalll the footage. Someone would have noticed the "bite mark" anyway, you best believe that. If you don't want anyone to notice it, you gotta cut him in most of the footage where it's visible. 2. Keep the hickey, discard the explanations. You could do that, but also it would feel a lot more unfaithful to everyone involved. Also they clearly worked their ass off to invent an explanation, come on! They truly tried to do their best inventing something that was not "it's a mosquito bite", they should get some credit! 3. Keep the bite, keep the explanation.

Notice how none of these solutions include the biting never happening because... They couldn't prevent it? The only thing they have any control over is how they're framing each "accident". And that's not an easy job.

I applaud you, people on the editing team.

So... On whom should we cast the blame now? Ah, yes, I think it's finally time for the ultimate scapegoat of this fandom: Jimin. Which is funny, cause... You know... If this were really about privacy, or being "victims" of shipping... This should be about freeing him too, you know? But obviously Jimin does it for attention, while Jungkook, poor angel that he is, doesn't even know what shipping is.

Furthermore, don't we all know how much Jimin imposes himself in Jungkook's life? To the point where he, multimillionaire man feels compelled to share a car with Jimin even if they're both late in the process. And can't you see how uncomfortable he is, draping himself over Jimin, making Jimin drap himself over him?

Oh lordy, truly such an awful eight years Jungkook spent, choosing to have vacations with someone who made him uncomfortable, spending free time with him, even having to suck his ear in public to the point you can see his saliva just because Jimin was sad :( truly an all-around bad time for Jungkook, as evidenced by alllll those times when he said Jimin was pretty, cute, and all-around knowing every little thing about Jimin. I absolutely concur, the dude would be so much more happy if jimin was not in his life.

Did that sound weird and absolutely ridiculous and a really absurd joke? Because that's what y'all sound like to me. Like. Jungkook is out there living his best life, getting hickeys and showered in affection and y'all paint him as a fucking martyr??? I'm sure he's really truly desperate that Jimin holds him in such high regards 😭😭😭 I can see him suffering whenever he starts doing his own serendipity rendition 😭😭 and when he claimed you are me, I am you as his and Jimin's only 😭😭😭 I cannot believe this poor baby 😭😭😭

I've reached a point where every time I hear this stuff I laugh because the levels of twisting reality when it comes to jikook are extraordinary, Jungkook will have a literally blissed out face and people will cry in outrage.

But coming back to my point: let's pretend you're not mad at Jimin and the possibility that jikook are dating: are y'all mad... At the hickey? Because at this point it seems like the only feasible solution. And if you are, do not worry: I'm sure Jungkook's skin was throughly healed by his boo. A kiss soothes even the worst pain, doesn't it?

[prettyboyjackhughes]

-Boy Best Friends- [J. Hughes & T.Smith]

Literally no one asked for this but Kelly @prettyboycozens and I were talking about how much we love Jack and Ty's friendship, especially after the interview of Jack where Ty comes in and then came up with this idea and I had to write it so here we are! Hope you enjoy!

Jack and I had been close since we were little. We started out next door neighbors then he was the weird boy who I waited at the bus stop with, then he became the boy I had every class with in middle school. Around 6th grade is when we finally clicked and became best friends. He calls me ‘Ranch’ even though my name is Rachel, all because one time his phone autocorrected ‘Rach’ to ‘Ranch’ and he thinks it’s the funniest thing ever. He even changed my contact name to ‘Ranch’.

It’s been an interesting 8 years being friends with him and watching him grow up. The funny thing is, I’m pretty sure we’ve only spent a full year together one time during our whole friendship. He’s always been off doing all his hockey stuff while I’ve been home in Michigan. But then college rolled around. He got drafted the summer after my senior year, managing to watch me walk across the stage at graduation before flying up to Vancouver for his draft 2 days later. I watched him get drafted on TV and remember the thrill of hearing New Jersey picked him because coincidentally, the college I was planning on attending, Seton Hall, was about 20 minutes away from the arena he would be playing in. Knowing I would be getting to spend, hopefully, the next 4 years with my best friend within a short car ride’s distance away for the first time in 8 years was some of the best news I had gotten in a long time.  The first year was rough but I managed to survive, mainly because of Jack. It took a while to figure out the dynamic of our friendship but we settled into a routine and a comfortable cycle. We went back to Michigan for the summer, spending it with our families. He trained most of the summer while I worked. But almost every evening was spent together. Then it came time for us to head back to Jersey and back to the chaos that waited for us.

“Why are you living in the dorm again next year? When Ty and I have a perfectly good room for you to stay in?” Jack asked, his face way too close to his phone. We had been on FaceTime for at least the last 2 hours, him distracting me as I attempted to do homework.

“Because I can? Why would I wanna live with you and Ty?” I shot back, smirking as he looked offended.

“Well that one hurts. Hey, I was just offering so you didn’t have to worry about getting stuck with a bad roommate, like freshman year.” I grimaced at the thought of my freshman year roommate. I had spent more time camped out in Jack’s apartment than at my own dorm.

“That is a good point. But who said you and Ty are good roommates? I know for one, you never pick up anything, your room was always a disaster when we were little and Ty sings in the shower so there’s two cons.” Jack rolls his eyes.

“My singing is lovely! You’re just jealous you can’t sing as well as me!” Ty yells from across the room as Jack turns the camera to show him.

“We’ll work on the singing. And I’ve gotten much better at cleaning up after myself. I even know how to do laundry now!” Jack says, excitedly. I laugh and put my pen down.

“This really isn’t convincing me to move in with you two. Just saying.”  Jack rolls his eyes.

“Just give us a chance. It’ll be fun.” I shrug.

“Okay fine. But you do know that means Brady will be around the apartment, right?” Jack’s face screws up a little and I roll my eyes. Brady is my boyfriend that I met midway through my freshman year. He was a sophomore, majoring in business and just happened to be at the very first party I went to. He was older, in a fraternity and sweet-talked me. I fell head over heels for him almost instantly. But the issue was that Jack and Ty weren’t huge fans.

“Jack, he's not that bad.” This time it’s Jack’s turn to scoff.

“Yeah because having to go and pick your drunk boyfriend up from a party every 2 nights doesn’t make him that bad.” Ty appears next to him and starts talking.

“Rach, we’re just looking out for you. We don’t exactly love the guy.”

“Well that’s what’s gonna happen so get used to the idea.” Jack looks over at Ty.

“I think we can be civil. So you’re moving in?” I nod and Jack cheers. I roll my eyes and start to think about what I have to pack.

The next two weeks are a whirlwind of chaotic packing and moving. The boys were sweet enough to give me the biggest bedroom in the apartment, even though I had the least amount of stuff out of the 3 of us. Once I had moved in, the boys and I settled into a routine of me cooking, then cleaning up, them doing laundry and me folding; really just a lot of splitting up the housework and jobs around the house to get them done. Brady was around a lot, but Jack and Ty were civil and not complete jerks. I was proud of them. But then one night, while Jack, Ty and I were watching some movie Ty had been wanting to watch, I got yet another call from Brady asking me to come pick him up.

“Baby…I…need you to come get me…I-“ Brady’s drunk voice is drowned out by the yelling and music in the background and I can’t hear him anymore.

“Brady, where are you? I’ll come get you.” He mumbles something back but I can’t understand it so I just end the call.

“I have to go get Brady. He’s drunk at a party again.” I say, sighing as I get up off the couch. Jack and Ty exchange a look and then Jack gets up too.

“I’ll drive you. You’ll have to make sure he doesn’t puke in my car though.” I nod as Ty stands up too.

“Might as well come along for the ride.” I slip my shoes on and follow Jack out the door of the apartment, Ty closing the door behind us.

“Let me check his location and I’ll tell you where we’re going.” After enough times of being left sitting somewhere and having no idea where Brady was, he ended up agreeing to share his location with me. In times like these, it was his saving grace.

“He’s about half an hour away. The party must be somewhere in New York.” Jack doesn’t say anything, just starts driving. The ride there is silent, for the first time. Usually Jack and Ty won’t shut up when we’re in the car, constantly fighting about what music to listen to, whose turn it is to drive; everything under the sun is up for discussion when we’re in the car. I usually sit back and listen, occasionally injecting myself into the conversation when I feel necessary. I’ll also play mediator when they’re fighting over something stupid. But the fact that it was silent in the car right now, made everything so much worse. It feels like we’re driving to the end of the world.

“There’s the house.” I say, almost 45 minutes later. Jack manages to get the car parked and turns around to look at me.

“You want us to come with you to find him?” I shake my head, sliding out of the car and shutting the door behind me. This would be the 5th time I’ve had to pick Brady’s drunk ass up from a party in the last 2 weeks. I was getting pretty tired of it. But his explanation was that it was because he was in a fraternity. He said that it was apart of his “brotherhood” or something stupid like that. I didn’t buy any of it but I loved him so I let it go. And as I waded my way through ridiculously sweaty bodies all dancing to way too loud music, I remembered how much I didn’t like partying.

“Hey you’re Brady’s girlfriend right?” A girl asks, grabbing my arm and yelling over the music. I turn to her and nod, an eyebrow raised.

“I just saw him go into a room with some other girl. Top of the stairs on the left.” I gulped, hoping she was wrong.

“Thanks!” I yell back, hurrying over to the stairs and taking them two at a time. I wind through people going up and down the stairs and manage to get to the door. As my hand finds the handle, I take a deep breath, hoping and praying that the sight behind this door isn’t going to be what I think it is. I finally bite back the fear and push the door open. Sure enough, sprawled out across the bed with some girl’s hands all over his bare chest is my boyfriend.

“Baby? Hey I-“ He says, starting to sit up.

“Fuck you. Hope she’s worth it.” I spit out, glaring at him before turning around to rush out of the room. I stumbled down the stairs, bumping into people and blindly apologizing as I pushed through the crowd. Somehow I managed to make it out of the house and into the back seat of Jack’s car.

“Hey hey hey are you okay? Where’s Brady?” Jack asked, a concerned look plastered across his face.

“He-he cheated on me. Wi-with some girl at the p-party.” I stuttered, fighting the tears pressing against my eyes. He and Ty exchange a look and then both look at me.

“Just drive Jacky. Please.” I whisper as the tears finally start to slow a little. It’s silent again for most of the car ride. My phone kept buzzing with texts and calls from Brady but finally, after what seemed like the thousandth call, I put it on do not disturb and tossed onto the seat next to me.

“Well, I mean, there’s always the option of kicking his ass.” Ty says from the front seat, looking up into the rearview mirror at me.

“What do you say, Jacky boy?” I bury my face in my hands and finally let the tears fall.

“Shit Ty, she’s crying! You broke her!” Jack says, hitting Ty’s arm as he looks back at me.

“I didn’t break her! How is it my fault!” They continue to argue back and forth the rest of the ride home, which would usually make me smile and roll my eyes but not today. Not after what just happened.

As soon as we get back to the apartment, I rush inside and to my room, closing the door behind me. I heard Jack and Ty come in not long after me and whisper about something for a while. I hear the front door open and close again and then Jack tapping lightly on my door.

“Hey Ranch, you okay?” He asks, getting a tiny smile from me because of the nickname.

“I should’ve listened to you and Ty. You said he wasn’t good for me but I didn’t listen. I-I thought he loved me.” This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve cried to Jack about boys. I’ve had my share of boyfriends through the years and every single break up was cried out, usually over the phone with Jack.

“Ty went to go get you ice cream and I remembered how much you like bubble baths so I got one ready for you if you want…” He says, awkwardly picking at his thumb and looking at me.

“Seriously, how did I get so lucky to have you as my best friend? You and Ty?” He smiles a little as I sit up and walk over to where he’s standing in the doorway.

“You both are going to make some very lucky girls happy someday, you know that right?” He smiles and nods as I hug him.

“Now aren’t you glad you moved in here?” I smile and nod, looking up at him.

“Yeah. Yeah I am.”

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 9

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Someone loses the plot and makes a bad decision. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My GIF)

You FaceTimed him, but it rang out unanswered. Shrugging, you sent him a text, just asking him to call you as soon as he could. Then you shoved your phone onto the coffee table, turned your attention to the TV and continued sipping your wine.

Billy could hear his phone buzzing, and then the ting of a text arriving. But he wasn’t anywhere near his desk right at that moment.

He was currently pinned up against the glass wall in his office by Dinah Madani, who seemed to have shape-shifted into an octopus, complete with all the tentacles. She’d almost managed to wrap herself around him, pushing her body against his. He was trying to grab her hands but she kept managing to pull them out of his grip. He was starting to get angry, yelling her name and “What the fuck!” in her face, but she was totally ignoring him - it was like she’d gone feral. He was trying his best not to use his full strength against her, but he was about two seconds away from completely losing his temper.

She managed to get her mouth onto his at one point while he was busy trying to grab her hands, but he twisted his head away. His shirt was hanging half-open, mostly untucked from his trousers, tie loose and pulled askew round his neck, then he felt her hand against his stomach, fumbling for his trouser button. A moment later, she’d managed to get it undone and began pulling his zip down, trying to slip her fingers inside the top of his boxer briefs. That was it for Billy, he was seriously not into this. He bared his teeth in a snarl and grabbed her wrist, twisting it up and around quite viciously into an armlock.

Grasping her other hand, which had been inside his shirt stroking his chest, he shoved her away from him and she lost her balance, tumbling onto her ass on the floor. Billy still stood against the window, getting his breath back and his temper in check, then he walked round her and into his en-suite.

He stripped off his wrecked shirt and dumped it on the floor, grabbing an Anvil hoodie from a drawer in the unit next to the sink and pulling it on over his head. He exchanged his trousers and shoes for tracksuit bottoms and trainers, took a deep breath and walked back out into the main office.

Madani was sitting on one of the chairs, head in hands, her fingers carding through her hair. She looked up and glared at him as she heard him walk through, but didn’t say anything. Billy had something to say though.

“I can’t believe what you just did, Dinah!!! What the fuck is wrong with you? If it was the other way round, you’d slap me with a sexual harassment charge so fast I’d get a nosebleed!”

Her eyes teared up, but she blinked them back fiercely. “What is wrong with me? Ask yourself the same question! You lead me on, make me think it was going somewhere, then drop me like a hot potato the minute you meet your little coffee queen? And now you’ve humiliated me. You’re such a bastard, Russo!”

He perched on the edge of his desk, looking over at her, “I humiliated you? How? - cos I wouldn’t fuck you when you just threw yourself at me?” He folded his arms over his chest.

“And I already apologised for maybe sending mixed messages. But you also carry some of the blame, Dinah, you assumed things based on a couple of lunches and a drink one night in a bar.” “And a kiss after that drink!” she bit back at him. He scoffed, “Fuck! Are you in junior high or somethin’?” Putting on a high-pitched voice, “He kissed me, mommy, so now we’re gettin’ married!”

He continued, back to his normal voice, “You’re being ridiculous and you know it. Listen, I’ll forget this whole thing ever happened if you get your damn head back on straight and focus your attention back onto the fucking case, instead of what I got inside my trousers!”

She stood up, “Fuck you, Russo! You know what, yes! Let’s get this case closed, then I won’t have to see your sorry ass ever again!” Looking around for her bag, she grabbed it off the floor and headed to the door. Billy, meanwhile, chuckled, “Now, Dinah... you’ve never seen my ass.”

She flipped him the finger with real feeling, and left.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was driving over to her place, and he dropped her a text saying he was nearly there. He hadn’t called her back, because he wanted to tell her face-to-face about what happened earlier with Dinah. It wasn’t something you talked about on the phone. He still couldn’t quite get his head round how desperate Madani had been, clawing at his clothes and her hands and mouth all over him. Now he guessed he knew what it felt like to be treated like a piece of meat, and at least had the decency to feel some personal guilt.

It was pretty much how he’d treated women all his life, if he was being honest. He wondered if not having a mother around, someone who would’ve loved and nurtured and cared for him, had contributed to his “fuck ‘em and leave ‘em” attitude to women. Who knew?

He sighed, knowing his girl was going to be really fucked off when he told her about it, and he only hoped that - coming so soon after the lunch date thing - she believed him when he said he’d shut her down as quickly as he could. Should he stop and buy her some flowers or something? Nah. That might just make him look guilty.

As he drove, the thought came unbidden into his mind that the Dinah thing was something that Previous Billy Russo would’ve just sat back and let happen. And enjoyed it. He started quietly laughing at himself, shit... he was screwed.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d just poured yourself another glass of wine when your phone chimed.

Picking it up, you saw it was a text from Billy... “Nearly at your place, angel. Any food going? ;) 😘”

You laughed, he really was a cheeky big devil. But, nah, no home cooking tonight Russo, you thought, I’m too frazzled after today. So you grabbed a menu from your local Thai and called them with an order of two portions of green curry, fragrant rice and some sides to be delivered in about twenty minutes.

Opening the door to Billy a few minutes later, you grabbed him into a bear hug and just rested your head on his chest. Not that he wasn’t enjoying it, but Billy knew this wasn’t ‘you’. You’d told him you didn’t ever want to be seen as ‘too clingy’ with your men. He’d told you at the time that you could cling to any part of his body you wanted to, for as long as you wanted to.

Taking hold of your arms, he gently moved you back so he could see you properly, “Hey, hey... you OK, angel?” You gulped a bit and nodded, then headed away to get a wine glass for him. Now he was here, you actually felt quite weepy, but you weren’t about to start blubbering like a big adult baby in front of him.

Billy closed your apartment door behind him, and followed you to the kitchen area. You saw him looking past you at the cooker and you laughed, instantly cheered up. “Sorry, Billy. No food, couldn’t be bothered.” His ‘disappointed puppy’ face was something to see. You poured him some wine, “Don’t worry darling, some Thai is on its way to us, should be here in about 15.” “Thank fuck for that, sweetheart, I’m absolutely starvin’!” he smiled down at you. Handing him the glass, you moved back to the sofa, collapsing onto it with a sigh.

Billy joined you, putting his glass on the coffee table and reaching down to take his trainers and socks off. He swung his legs up and his bare feet landed in your lap. You started tugging at his toes a little, and he picked his wine glass back up and took a sip. “Mmhm, that is a good red wine. And that,” he wiggled his toes against your fingers as you stroked them, “...is heavenly.” “It’s all the nerve endings. There’s so many of them in your feet.” He nodded, smirking, “But not as many as in another part of me.”

You laughed, untangling your fingers from his toes and reaching over to run them through his hair, “Food first, tiger.” He laid his hand over yours as you rested it on the back of his neck, sighing, “Yeah, okayyy... I won’t argue with you about it this time.”

Your buzzer sounded just then, and you collected the food from the delivery guy, then took it all over to the coffee table. Picking up cutlery and napkins from the kitchen, you and Billy proceeded to demolish the delicious Thai meal and then both collapsed back against the sofa. “That was...” Billy groaned and stretched, “...wonderful.” He reached for you, pulling you against him, kissing you lazily, softly. “Mmm. You know you didn’t kiss me when I got here? But I’ll let you off,” he smiled at you, but the smile faded almost immediately . He suddenly sat up, as if he was going to make a break for the door.

You felt a bit spooked by this - you’d just decided that second you were going to tell him about your ‘stalker’ - and it was almost as if he’d guessed you had something uncomfortable to say.

Looking across at him, you cleared your throat, feeling nervous for some reason. You noticed Billy had the same nervous look on his face you were sure you had on yours.

“Billy...” he was staring at you, “Madani came to the café today. Twice in fact.” His mouth dropped. You carried on quickly, “The first time she just had a coffee and left. In fact I wasn’t even 100% sure it was her. It was though, she came back later under the pretence of interviewing me to find out how us knowing each other would ‘impact’ her case.” You reached over and took his hand, he was still staring at you, amazed look on his face. “Then she just couldn’t help herself, she told me you two were seeing each other - dating, she said!”

He was shaking his head, “Nuh-uh, no! We were never....” You interrupted him, “I know. Look, Billy, I set her straight. Told her that was before you met me, and... and all that stuff with her was in the past.” A small grin appeared on his face, and you continued, “I hope I wasn’t out of line saying that.” He stroked your hand, “You definitely weren’t.” “But I didn’t tell her why you’d been... so friendly... with her. She wasn’t happy, Billy, like really not happy. Stormed off without saying another word.”

Billy was nodding to himself, “All makes sense now.” He looked over at you, eyes wide, “Got a visit from her too, must’ve been after she’d been to see you.” He took a deep breath, “Look, you’re not gonna like this, but please just hear me out.”

Your stomach dropped, you really didn’t like where this was heading. What had that crazy woman got up to with Billy?

“She came to Anvil, and... and, well she basically jumped me. Just walked in, didn’t say a word, tryin’ to get my clothes off, hands everywhere. I tried to grab her hands but didn’t wanna go over the top.” You were still holding hands, and he intertwined his fingers with yours, gazing deep into your eyes. “She went for my zip and that was it, got her in an armlock and threw her off me. She fell over on her ass.”

He was surprised when you burst out laughing. That was a much better reaction than he’d been expecting. “Oh I’d’ve paid good money to see that,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “Billy, I think she’s lost it. Gone a bit nuts with jealousy over you. Your male ego must be totally preening right now.” He smirked, but then got serious again. “No, actually it’s not... it’s just made me feel guilty. About how I had a “one and done” approach with women up till now. Got a dose of my own medicine, angel.”

“Treating people like sex objects, you mean? I’m sure most of us have done that at some point. Maybe you more than most,” you shrugged. “But have you turned over a new leaf, Billy Russo?” you asked, hand going to his bristly cheek. He nodded slowly, “ Yes I have, ma’am. Ever since I met you,” leaning in and kissing you. Your arms went round his neck, and you kissed him back hard. He whispered, “I was really afraid to tell you about it. Thought you wouldn’t believe me.”

You whispered back, “I don’t really know why, but I trust you, Billy. Don’t make me regret it.” “I promise you I won’t.”

You slid your hands under the hem of his hoodie, “Moving right along, Russo... I hope you don’t mind if I treat you like a sex object for the rest of the night.” His eyes twinkled at you as he said, “Oh, well, gee I might need to get my union rep involved.”

You slid your hands further up his chest, and reached up to kiss that sensual mouth of his. Then you sat up and took your bra off from under your t-shirt, dropping it on the floor before climbing onto him. You shimmied your leggings down your thighs slightly, and rubbed your body along his. Bill’s eyes were as wide as the moon, watching to see what you were going to do to him.

One of your hands went to the waistband of his tracksuit but then you paused, “D’you want me to stop, Billy?” Despite your earlier joke, you were aware that Madani had just invaded his personal space and not in a good way. His dark chocolate eyes were gazing into yours, and shaking his head he stuttered, “N-no.”

So your hand continued its journey southward underneath his boxer briefs, and soon it was happily wrapped around his velvety length. He gave a deep groan, one hand going to your hip, the other to your clit. You really weren’t in the mood for foreplay. After the events of the day you just wanted to feel Billy inside you, making you feel good and driving away any remaining thoughts or insecurities you might have about Madani.

The fact that you both still had your clothes on was exciting you as it made it seem like you two were having an illicit encounter. You pushed Billy’s tracksuit and briefs down to mid-thigh, revealing him in all his glory. Knowing you were more than ready for him, you gave him a couple of firm strokes and then guided his cock between your legs and put his tip straight inside you.

Billy gave a surprised gasp, but then thrust up into you as you rode him. “Uhh...” he groaned, then managed to say, “...no condom.” “Fuck it,” you whispered back, “...it’s fine, don’t worry.” You loved the view you had of him, hair in disarray where you’d been running one hand through it and those dark eyes of his on you, always on you. You felt him deep inside you and clenched around him, making his eyes close in pleasure and a long low groan escape his lips. His hand gripped your hip, his other hand massaging your breast and palming your nipple, making you gasp.

You stepped up your pace, riding him like you were about to ride off into the sunset. He was making a lot of noise you noticed, crying out and groaning, almost whimpering, so you leant over and whispered “Puppy” into his ear. As expected he laughed but then smacked your behind, quite hard, making you yell “Ow!!!” You gripped him extra firmly in retaliation and he howled, “Okay, okay, I surrender! I can’t last much longer anyhow....” and he did come shortly after that, huffing out a big breath, fingers digging into your hips and his own thrusting up to meet yours. He then made sure you climaxed, staying inside you, stroking your pussy before moving his thumb to your clit and pleasuring you until you came.

You lay in each other’s arms, in that post-sex blissful state. Billy’s nose was buried in your hair as it lay against your shoulder, and you could feel him rubbing it back and forward, tangling up in your hair and gliding across your skin too.

You heard a massive sigh, his chest rising and falling. “Billy?” you murmured, “You OK?” He sat up a bit and propped his head up on his elbow, gazing at you. He gave a quiet laugh, “No, I’m not. In fact, I’m really fucked.” You sat up too. “Well, yes so am I, if you recall!” you laughed. Reaching out, you stroked the hair on his chest, between his pecs.

“But, seriously, what d’you mean, Billy?”

His eyes looked huge as he gazed at you, “I, uh... think I’ve fallen in love with you.” He stroked your cheek, “And it scares the shit out of me.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Additional A/N: In case you hadn’t guessed, this my imaginary ‘Real Love for Russo’ AU ☺️

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane

[tarantulas4davey]

HELLO BESTIE I am currently having Ralbert Brainrot and you're the best person go come to for this, obviously,, so PLEASE share! I would like to hear about ufc albert or youtuber race, or dancing partners!! I love them smm

HI YES HELLO USING THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO WRITE UFC FIGHTER AL PART 2 THANKS BABES

i just witnessed a literal crime and i’m Feeling The Rage (boxing judges at mma events can catch these hands) so here is. my brain on anger.

also the first half of this is pretty fight-talk heavy but the second half is more al/ralbert central so message me/send me an ask if i don’t explain something well enough <3

here is the ask i sent to @we-are-inevitable (thanks jac i’m in love with you mwah) and here is part 1 for this au if you haven’t read that one yet !!

also,,,,, this is fairly obvious. but trigger warning for violence/physical fighting, as well as blood. (it’s a rough gig y’all fjdhdb) oh and swearing but that’s pretty much just me LMAO

here i am, bein mad and writing ralbert. therapy time with chandler ig

OK SO

this is after his debut. duh. continuation

i think he’s probably 5 fights in with 5 wins. he’s been running people through, especially with four full camps after a short notice start, and he’s never even seen a decision in the ufc

let’s just say the hype train is moving FAST and it’s moving LOUD

everyone has to have those people that watch their fights just to see them lose, on top of the majority male fan base that have to have a little bit of toxic masculinity and homophobia in there

so there’s A LOT of people that are waiting for him and his hype train to get derailed. but there’s also a fair amount of fans, so you win some you lose some (the way i would die to see this be a real fighter pls)

now albert’s not always the most confident guy, and he’s never been cocky, but none of this shit gets to him. he’s got his coaches, he’s got his friends and he’s got race behind him. he knows he’s got the skills, and he’s got his support system, so who gives a shit what a bunch of cowards on the internet have to say?

and then they put him against someone known for his grappling and stamina. and the “it’s a wrap for dasilva!” bandwagon starts. it happens every time a rising striker and early knockout artist fights a well known grappler with any semblance of later round power (even if al has a background in wrestling and has gone 5 rounds and won outside of the ufc. it’s a bandwagon for a reason)

and it’s not Upsetting, it’s not really getting into his head in any way that’ll make him do worse, but it’s kinda pissing him off. which is bad for his opponent

the last person on earth you want to be fighting is an annoyed albert dasilva who thinks he has something to prove

he works his ass off in camp, and the press tour is a self-assured albert vs. a loudmouth who thinks he’s hot shit cause a few people on twitter think he’ll sweep

and, to be completely honest? it’s starting to look that way 2 rounds in.

it’s a 5 round fight, co-main event on a big card, and so far all al’s opponent has done is pinned him to the cage and kept him there. a few strikes worth anything - at least enough make al’s cheek bleed, no takedowns, which would at least give him some activity, and so submission attempts, so he can’t even gain any ground that way. he’s just- Stuck. and if THIS is how he loses, he’s gonna be pissed

the bell for the second round sounds, and you can actually see al’s chest heaving on camera as he walks to his corner - not because he’s tired or out of breath, but because he’s MAD, and fuck if he’s not going to do something about it

not only that, but he can not only see race and jack standing up by the cage - plus race’s expression, which is slightly annoyed and super anxious, which hurts his chest to think about - but he can hear them too

jack is yelling profanities, as per usual. he doesn’t that regardless of how the fight is going, but it’s less encouraging when you’re the one losing.

race though,,,, race isn’t really yelling, he’s more talking to himself than anything, but he’s close enough to cage and al knows him well enough to figure out what he’s saying. and if the muttered almost-prayers while he paces back and forth weren’t enough, the shiny gold engagement ring on race’s hand definitely is

round 3,,,, let’s just say it goes a little differently than the first 2 had gone.

he opens with a spinning back kick, of all fucking things, and that truly sets the pace

he’s the taller guy by a few inches, like usual, which makes his arms longer. the only reason crushing his against the cage worked is cause the guy he’s fighting cuts weight like a wrestler, so he’s easily got 20 pounds on albert come fight night

but once he finds his rhythm and starts throwing, he starts connecting too. he manages to stay out of range of his opponent and stay his comfortable distance to start t-ing off

this isn’t a one punch power ending. this isn’t a beautiful head kick, or a giant knee, or even just a clean right hook.

this is albert, who’s arms are starting to feel the 3rd round a little bit, hitting this guy with everything he has cause he refuses to lose this fight.

i mean- everyone watched him get up at the start of the round with a set jaw and a scary determined glint in his eye. he’s not a person you fuck with, and he’s definitely not a person you publicly ridicule before being locked in a cage to fight with

the guy he’s fighting is absolutely battered, but he manages to survive until round 4. the first of the championship rounds, something al’s never seen in a ufc fight before, and it feels like the arena is holding its breath

so when al comes out and does the same thing as round 3 to better results - fight ending results - everyone’s a little shocked, honestly

the commentary team’s in disbelief, cause albert is NOT a slow starter, regardless of what this fight would tell you, and the fact he managed a win at all, let alone such a phenomenal one, is fucking astounding

he gets his hand raised, obviously, but the really interesting part is the post fight interview

“albert, man, what changed between round 2 and 3? what second gear did you find?”

“bro, i just— it was pissing me off, honestly. i don’t come in here to get pinned down for 25 minutes. and, y’know, my team gave me good advice. i had all the pieces, straight from the jump, someone just had to force me to put them in place…”

and then he looks over at race, who gives al one of those half grin, half smirks and winks at him, and al just chuckles to himself and finishes answering the question

“the thing that really forced my hand is race. i won’t get cheesy on you, but watching someone who loves and supports you through everything panic cause he’s scared for you - it’s a big motivator. everyone would figure out a lot more of my motivations if they went and watched race’s expressions back instead of whatever the hell i’m doing in here. he’s always been the brains, i’m just the brawn.”

and that’s a better answer than anyone was expecting, plus he’s just had the fight of a lifetime that’s probably earned him a title shot, so he’s done soon after that and gets to have his little in-cage celebration

he hugs his team and jack, who razzes him a little bit as per usual, and makes some dumb quip about going over tapes later like he’s a coach. and then comes race

he hugs him, all tender and cute and also very sweaty cause That’s How It Works, and the camera’s focused on him, so they can tell they’re whispering back and forth. but there’s no mics on them, so what’s said is missed entirely on the audience, but it’s their usual cheesy, in love mess

“congrats, baby. i’m proud of you.”

“oh please. it was 90% you anyway. i meant what i said, it wasn’t just for the cameras.”

“i know that. i’m gonna have to get you back somehow for telling everyone to go back and watch my awful anxious expression. i’ll think of something.”

“i’m sure you will, sweetheart.”

and then al does that awful, adorable lil nose bump thing, and then kisses race. and then jack covers his eyes and whines until they stop like the actual 12 year old boy he is inside

and then they leave the octagon, race and al holding hands, and al throws his arm over jack’s shoulder and shoves his head down and pushes him, cause even though he was just in a literal cage match he’s still a roughhousing teenager at heart

and he’s got interviews and press shit that separates him from his people, and he’s gotta slide that bulletproof mask back down over all the happy and in love shit he’s feeling so he can not smile like an idiot on camera constantly

but every once in awhile he’ll catch jack giving him the finger and laugh before returning it below view of the camera

or he’ll catch race’s eye from where he’s standing behind all the studio lights and do a little wave under the camera and return the wink from earlier, and the unbothered fighter facade will crack a little bit

but he’s not completely convinced that’s such a bad thing

GOD THIS POST IS SO MUCH LONGER THEN I MEANT IT TO BE IM SORRY

but Yeah. Them.

i love this au a helleva lot more than i should but that’s Fine cause i’ve got thoughts for days on it

[crescentsteel]

Imagination

plot: Halloween with Kiyoomi Sakusa genre: fluff, crack  warnings: sorta creepy wc: 6.3k (went a bit overboard sorry lol)

A/N: - This is collab from our server @babythotshq. See others spoofy stories from our server here.   - I’m posting another halloween fic later, sum Semi fluff. lmk if u wanna be tagged - Thank you so much @newfriendjen for the betaread and @aomineavenue for that idea u gave me ehe - Sakusa brainrot

Nothing beats the spirit of Halloween, the best holiday ever invented. Ghost stories, people in costumes, haunted houses, scary movies, everything about this holiday — you love and welcome them all. Last year, your Halloween adventure was you and your friends trying to make a documentary (actually it was just you hogging the camera and tripping your friends that you’re seeing apparitions) in an abandoned building.

But the highlight of that Halloween wasn’t that. It was meeting Sakusa. Albeit how sweet that sounds, the whole of it was honestly ridiculous. 

A year ago, you and your coworkers agreed to join the Halloween party at the club near your office. You drew lots on what will be the theme of each person’s costume in the office. The person whose costume fits their theme the most gets a prize. When you got “something unexpected” at the draw, you were thrilled at all the possibilities your imagination could think of. 

But then work fucked you up until you barely had any time left. You only had less than 48 hours to come up with an award-winning costume. As you’re scrunching for your work deadlines, you look around for possible costume inspirations. And voila, your eyes landed on that certain object near your monitor. 

You laughed your head off when you pictured what you’d look like.  

At the club at the night of the Halloween party, it was expected to have most people in costume. No one gave anyone a second look for being all dressed up. 

Except for you.

When you entered the bar, people were staring. You made your way to your colleagues, uttering your excuse mes and sorrys to the people you bumped. Once your officemates saw you, they guffawed simultaneously. You were wearing white boots, surgical , a light blue long-sleeve top, and black short shorts. On top of the long-sleeve top and shorts was a white box hanging inches just below your thighs which made it look like a box dress. Printed on the front of the box dress was “GERMINATOR. Kill 99.9% germs” complete with its logo. At the back of it was the product’s information. It even had an improvised pump on your head. On your bare thighs was a holster holding sanitizers instead of guns. 

You twirled in front of your colleagues and they all gave you a round of applause.

You were so stressed out with work that you drank your heart out before the party even began to reach its peak. Your nearing drunk ass was letting loose when your back collided with someone and you nearly tripped. 

It was a guy with white streaks on his hair that was held up by gel or wax. He gasped as he took in your appearance. “Miss! Please come with me.” The guy didn’t really give you a choice when he grabbed your wrist and dragged your tipsy self to wherever. 

“Omi-kun! I brought you someone.” He said while he hid you behind him.

“Really, Bo-kun? You think he’d be interested in anyone from here?” You heard someone say despite the noise. The guy who just hauled you there moved away to reveal that certain someone, aka you. You went with the flow and gave them a curtsy while your vision started to sway a bit. 

You easily distinguished who he’s with since they’re all wearing the same yellow jacket. “What are you s’ppsed to be? A boy band or somethin?” you asked but no one answered.

You are met with different reactions. Two of them dropped their jaws. One had a wide smile on his face, obviously proud of finding you. Then, there was this guy you couldn’t make out because he was wearing a face mask. After recovering from their shock, the three men looked at the one who wore a face mask. 

The guy with white streaks turned to you and said, “I’m Bokuto,” referring to himself. “That’s Hinata,” he pointed out to the shortest guy in orange hair. “Miya, “ the blonde one said, then grabs the face masked-guy who has a stiff frown on his half-visible face. “And this,” he pushed the face-mask man in front of you, “is Sakusa.” Everyone looked so entertained and so amused, except for the one directly in front of you. But you don’t acknowledge the somber aura coming from him. You like being the source of entertainment, especially for this event. 

“Oh you unsanitary boys! You can call me,” you grab two sanitizers dramatically from your holster and pose like a sailor scout, except weirder. You couldn’t even tell how you exactly posed your arms in the air, you just let the alcohol do the work. As a finishing touch to the pose, you winked and announced, “Germinator-chan!!!”

At that, Miya spilled the drink he was about to take while Bokuto put his hands on his hips as they both laughed uncontrollably. Hinata walked beside …  what was his name again? You’ll just continue calling him face-mask man. “You look so cool, Germinator-chan!!” Hinata beamed at you while scanning your whole look. “We should’ve dressed up as well,” he added with a slight pout. 

Ah. Sakusa it was.  

Miya ,who was still laughing his heart out, put an arm around Sakusa, “My, my, Omi-kun,” he paused to chuckle, “We’ve found yer dream girl!” Sakusa tried to shrug Miya’s arm off of his shoulder. “Please don’t touch me.”

Bokuto came closer as well and spoke to Sakusa, “Are you still leaving? Germinator-chan can keep you clean.”

“Of course I’m still leaving. I shouldn’t even have come in this germ-infested place” he said and was about to saunter off towards the exit. Before he could even pass you by, you block his path and extend your arms. 

“Germ, you say? I got you,” you said while you poised your sanitizers in place, ready to give him some if he extends his hands to you. You find no shame in how flippant you seemed. This is what Halloween parties are all about. You, yourself, are having fun even if you don’t entirely grasp why they’re teasing the guy. He probably has a cold and wants to avoid too many people.

You weren’t expecting it, but Sakusa held out his hands. You thought he was just going to ignore your antics because he seemed annoyed. You heard him mumble something, but because of the music and his face mask, you didn’t hear it. 

“Sorry, what?!” 

He comes a bit closer, close enough for you to notice how he’s not as serious as he was before. More so, he looked pleased. Since half of his face is covered, all your attention went to his eyes, and at this proximity, you became aware how pretty they actually looked. Or maybe you’re already drunk and he’s just too close. 

“Thanks, miss,” he uttered softly. 

“BAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!! You’re perfect for each other!” Bokuto’s laugh drew your attention away from Sakusa. 

“Before you leave, Omi-san. Can we take pictures with you, Germinator-chan?” Hinata asks with his phone already on his hand. 

“Ah yes yes, Shoyo-kun. Clever idea.” The Miya guy said with a widespread grin on his face. Once again, they all gathered around Sakusa. You joined them with silly poses as they took several selfies with you. The three of them were obviously having fun while Sakusa’s expression was the same in all the photos. Even with the face mask, you could tell. He’s pissed. As soon as they put the phone down, he was on the move again. 

“Wait, Omi-kun!” Miya stopped him once more. Sakusa looked like a vein was gonna pop on his temple. Maybe you just imagined him being pleasant a while ago. 

“We’re letting ya leave, don’t worry.” Miya smirked prior to adding, “after ya take pictures with Germinator-chan.” You see Sakusa’s shoulders slump in defeat. But you didn’t feel bad for him at all. In fact, you also wanted to keep on teasing him. 

As they snap pictures, you kept on doing superhero poses with your costume. Sakusa’s impassiveness doesn’t bother you one bit. You kept on flailing around him while they took pictures. When they had their fill, they said their goodbyes as Sakusa walked away without even looking back.

“Byeee. Stay germ-free!” You half-shouted as he already gained some distance away from you and the three men. When he reached the exit, you felt someone tap your shoulder. You turned on your heel and saw Miya offering you a drink. “You, Germinator-chan, are fucking awesome.” The three boys wore big smiles on their faces which you reciprocated. You bowed as acknowledgment to the compliment and took the offered liquor. You gulped a significant amount before excusing yourself “Bye boyysss.” You head back to your coworkers, faltering on every step of the way.

Two days after that Halloween party, life went on. You regret drinking so much that night. You barfed like crazy when you got home and you had a massive hangover the morning after so you had to take the following day off. Since everyone in your office knew why you had to be absent the previous day, they made you do additional work that day.

You’re a Lifestyle writer, but the Sports department needed another person today. They weren’t able to do the interview for some players the week before so you’re needed to do the last set of interviews. You don’t really know anything Sports-related. They just gave you a list of the people you’re going to interview and the questionnaire for them to answer. The most you could do is follow up on their answers. You looked at the names to be interviewed. 

Shion Inunaki

Kiyoomi Sakusa

Shoyo Hinata

You don’t know why, but the names were awfully familiar. You shrugged it off. Maybe you just saw some articles about them from the Sports department. 

You arrived at the gymnasium and went straight to their manager, stating that you were scheduled there to interview some players for your magazine. You took your seat at the sides and waited. The first interview with Inunaki went smoothly. When you’re done with him, he called the next guy and got back to their practice. 

Upon seeing the next interviewee, you stare intently at him for he looked incredibly familiar, you just had to remember where you met him. Black, curly hair that framed his face nicely. Two moles located right above his right eyebrow. Sharp, serious eyes. But something’s off. Something at the back of your head knows that you’ve seen his face, but something’s amiss. 

Face mask. He wasn’t wearing his face mask. 

Sakusa. 

Drunken memories came rushing down to your sober mind. You even heard your frilly voice saying Germinator-chan!! 

You looked down and fixed your glasses as an attempt to hide your face. You cleared your throat and deepened your talking voice so that he wouldn’t perceive any resemblance you may have with what you looked like two nights ago. 

You started the interview and took down notes more keenly than you should, just so you wouldn’t meet his gaze. From your peripheral, you saw him trying to get a better look at your face. 

“Excuse me, have we met somewhere?” he said after answering a question from your list. You smile thriftly and shake your head. “I don’t think so.” He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press on.

‘Kami-sama, I swear to take care of myself and not contaminate my precious body with alcohol. Just let me go through this unnoticed. I’m begging you,’ you prayed silently.

Fortunately, the interview ended with Sakusa not figuring out who you were. When the last interviewee sat down, a pair of bright hazel eyes stared at you with glee. 

“GERMINATOR-CHAN!” Hinata yelled while pointing at you happily. It echoed in the whole gymnasium and how awfully lucky you were, everyone was on break. You felt everyone’s eyes on you. Not long after, you’re crowded by not only the four boys you met that fateful night, but everyone else in the team. 

“Wow. This is the Germinator-chan?” A player you didn’t know asked. 

Apparently, Miya shared the pictures to every single one on the team. Inunaki joined their fun and tapped the back of Sakusa. “Real nice, Sakusa-san!” You heard a familiar voice and found Miya beside Sakusa. “Well, well, Omi-kun. Her alter-ego’s real pretty.” The taunts were focused on Sakusa, but you felt like sinking on your seat that moment.

“Um!!” You got all their attention. “Sorry, but can I finish my interview with Hinata-kun first?” You smiled as professionally and as nice as you could. They all uttered light apologies and dispersed back on the court. You resumed with the interview as fast as you could. You thanked Hinata and their manager and semi-sprinted out of the court when you had the chance. No way you’re gonna get hounded by any MSBY member again. 

The exit was just a few steps away and finally, you can rest easy. You let out a breath of relief when you reached outside with no problem. 

“Germinator-chan.”

You yelp from the sudden voice behind you. You slowly turn around to confirm if it was who you thought it was. And behold, it really was Sakusa Kiyoomi. You twiddled with your fingers while thinking of what you should say. You didn’t want to apologize for your behavior the other night. You liked having fun and going crazy. You saw nothing wrong with that. You didn’t do anything inappropriate. It’s just that you didn’t think you’d see any of those men right when you’re working.

He walked towards you until you were face to face. Without his face mask, you end up staring at his whole profile that was partially hidden that night. He must’ve been really sick to want to cover such an attractive face.

“What brand of sanitizer did you use?” You blink twice from the confusion. “What?” you ask dumbfoundedly. “That night. The sanitizer you gave me felt nice. Did it have 70% isopropyl alcohol?” You couldn’t tell if he was just messing with you cause his face is dead serious. That’s when you figured it out.. The face mask, the early escape from the crowd, attention to disinfectant — he was a clean freak. 

“Umm. I-Uh.. I’m not really sure. I didn’t really check,” you said, then laughed nervously. 

“Do you want some recommendations?” 

“Huh?” You felt like an idiot for not fully grasping what he was talking about. If you weren’t staring so hard, you wouldn’t have noticed it, but something broke his stoic expression when his eyes averted your gaze for a second. He looked a bit unsure. 

“I can help you choose a good sanitizer...and stuff.”

The smile that broke in your face was wide and it hurt your cheeks. You’ve been asked out several times, but that. That was unlike any other you’ve ever heard. It was so weird. It was the kind of weird that appeared so charming to you.

You just had to go out with him. 

A year after that, you find yourself in his apartment to celebrate Halloween. Originally, you wanted to go to that Halloween party again, but no matter how much you pouted, begged, and pestered him, the answer was a big, fat no. 

This is your most-awaited holiday of the year. There’s no way you’re missing out on Halloween activities with him. So days prior to this, you brainstormed on what activities you could do with him.

Haunted House? Dirty.  Abandoned buildings? Dirtier.  Street Parties? Crowded. Ouija Board? You’re scared something will actually happen.  Zombie run? Dirty and crowded.

You almost gave up until you remembered your vast collection of untouched horror movies, documentaries, and series that you didn’t have the time to watch because of work. You instantly texted Sakusa if that was okay with him. 

Okay

You’ve never been so glad to read a four-lettered text after receiving a constant n-o, no to all your suggestions. Finally. FINALLY, you came up with something you two could do. 

Halloween weekend came and you both decided on Sakusa’s apartment to do the movie marathon. You keep shifting in your seat from excitement. Tonight, you get the opportunity to watch some of your hoarded horror pieces, and much better, you’re watching it with Sakusa. 

“Is there anything you’d like to watch in particular?” you ask him with your eyes still glued on the screen, browsing your bought movies. He moves closer to you and slouches so he can better see his options. 

If Sakusa will be honest, he’s not really a fan of horror. He doesn’t see the point of scaring oneself from something that is make-believe. So he’s not that enthusiastic about it.

But you were. 

If watching freakish movies makes you happy, then okay.  Out of all your ideas this year, this is the only one he can tolerate. He knows how dedicated you are in celebrating this event. Last year was already a solid proof of that.

“Don’t you get scared by watching that stuff?” He’s looking at you but your focus is on the screen as you scroll down. “I do. But that’s the point!” You squeal from excitement. He still can’t wrap his head around the whole concept, but he’s willing to indulge you. 

“Do you get scared by these?” you peel your eyes away from the TV and shift your attention to him. 

He shrugs indifferently. “Not really,”  was his answer even though he still hasn’t watched a full length horror film. He just couldn’t imagine how a fictional work could potentially frighten him. 

“Okay. Let’s go with something light since the night is still young,” you said, then clicked on some movie that he didn’t catch the title of. You huddled closer to him. You tuck your knees in and hug your legs as the movie starts. 

You’re so elated that you don’t notice the tug in the corner of his mouth as he studies your face. He asked you out on a whim because that day, he didn’t really have the time to think twice. He wasn’t sure if he’d see you again. If he’d been honest, he thought you were all over the place when he first saw you. He didn’t usually find that appealing, but he couldn’t deny that you looked so cute as Germinator-chan, especially with your eyes twinkling in glee as you offered him that sanitizer.

Even though asking you out wasn’t a well-thought of idea, he made the right decision. He didn’t need to match up to your outgoing personality. You never made him feel that he wasn’t enough or that he needed to be more than himself. He never felt pressured to make you happy because you already are with whatever he gives. You’re you and he’s him, yet your relationship is more than satisfactory for both of you.

You might have noticed him gaping at you since you suddenly turned to him and raised your  eyebrow. “What’re you staring for?” Your lips formed the cute smile he’s always adored. 

“Nothing,” he replied more quickly than he should. He takes in your smile for one good second before shifting his gaze to the screen. The movie starts with people going to the woods for their idea of fun.

‘Ew’ he thought to himself.

As the film progresses, it gets even worse. There are body parts getting dismembered. It’s so bad when someone’s arm was severed, blood splattered all over the place. He unconsciously grips your thigh to ground himself. You don’t notice this since you shrieked happily at the scene. You were even clapping your hands.

“Yeeess! Cut those arms, dude.” 

He couldn’t believe you found this fun. He couldn’t bear to look at the mutilated body parts, even if it was just on screen. He just looked away until he thought it was safe for his eyes again. That’s what he’ll do every time there’s a bloody clip.

After a while, you finally sense that his hand was clutching your thigh because of the gradual increase of force he unknowingly put behind it. 

“Kiyoomi?” You look at your boyfriend whose face is now drained of color. “Oh no. What’s wrong?!” Your full attention is now on him despite the film still rolling.

Your face is a pile of concern. A while ago, he was painfully uncomfortable in your choice of movie, but seeing your once cheery facade get all worried cause he couldn’t take the blood made him feel bad. You already adjusted your Halloween plans for him. He can at least try harder to get through this movie.

He gently shakes his head. “I’m okay. Don’t mind me. Let’s keep watching.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to do it if you’re not okay with it.” It was very like you to look out for him and adjust to him, even at your own expense. You’re easygoing, loud, fun, and everything he’s not - that included messy and clumsy. Despite that, you accepted his needs and boundaries without any qualms.

He removes his grip from your thigh and wraps his arm around you.

“I’m really fine, sweetheart.” 

Your face lights up at his endearment, completely melting away the worry you had a while ago. 

Now, he just needs to pin it on his mind that the thing isn’t real and he can survive the night. 

However, it proved to be more difficult than he imagined when the scenes keep getting messier, bloodier, and dirtier. He keeps on focusing on your entertained face to distract himself from the screams and the sound of blood splashing and gushing. 

From the short moments that he was able to glance at the screen, he can tell that the movie is reaching its climax already. He decided that he’s going to keep his eyes on the screen starting from now, just to fulfill your wish of him actually watching with you. 

A few minutes into it and he was starting to feel sick. He gets nauseous when someone's head is crushed by a rock. Unable to continue, he pulls you closer and leans his forehead on your shoulder with his eyes closed.

You immediately notice him wavering and quickly turn off the television. You cup his cheeks and brush away the curls blocking his face. He opens his eyes and looks at you weakly. 

“Sorry, we were almost done… but the blood was too much,” he confessed defeatedly. 

“No, no, no. I should’ve realized that it would make you uneasy.” You felt guilty for not figuring it out sooner. You’ve been with him for a year now. You should’ve put two and two together.

“Let’s do something else. What do you wanna do?” 

“We can watch another scary film. Just less blood.” He suggested a compromise. He won’t let you do all the adjusting this time. He’s getting fed up with himself being coddled by you all the time.

“Swear to me that you’ll let me know if it gets too much.” Your tone was serious. 

“I swear Germinator-chan,” he says monotonously but you catch the humor behind it. This is Sakusa afterall. Because you’re used to his non-expressive self, you’ve gotten used to the intricate details of how he conveys his emotion. 

You couldn’t help but smile while rolling your eyes back to the screen. You choose a more recent movie that’s a sequel to a very famous horror franchise you’ve been following. It was perfect because it was just plain creepy and scary without the gore. 

You make yourselves comfortable again. Around twenty minutes into the film, there's no one who’s body parts are missing from their bodies. You’ve been keeping an eye on him. Thankfully, it seems like he’s calmed down now that he’s leaning on the couch with the color back on his face. He looks focused on the movie that was playing. With that, you are able to relax and do the same.

The calm was short-lived though. This movie is quite distinct from the last one. The previous film was chaotic and fun (for you). Now, the room is drowning in ominous music as you wait for the next jumpscare to happen. But it doesn’t. It leaves you at the edge of your seat when you tortuously wait for it to come. The eerie background music stops without any sign of the demonic ghost showing up. You finally let out the breath you were holding in your chest. 

That is until you see something in the corner of the screen. It was hazy and it looks like it’s just part of the background. You fixate your eyes on the imagery while you feel a familiar dread rising in your throat. You want to make sure that it was nothing. You squeeze Sakusa’s knee while leaning a bit towards the screen to get a better look. 

When you find that you’re close enough, the screen completely turns black, but only for a millisecond. It pops back up to reveal the same background you were looking at earlier. Only now, the thing you were closely looking at was not there anymore. You don’t know what to expect as there’s only silence.

In a blink of an eye, the object of your focus was revealed. A woman’s face occupied the whole screen. She had blood-shot eyes wide as saucers accompanied by an inhuman grin that spread too wide, making her face look unholy. 

“SHIIIIITTTTTTTT!!!”

Your reflexes kick in. You use the hand you have on Sakusa’s knee to propel yourself and launch yourself to him. Both your hands find their way on his chest, clutching tight the fabric over it. You bury half your face on his chest and close your eyes. 

“Is she gone?” Before he even answers, you open one eye cautiously and peek at the screen to see if it was safe to look again. You see that the scene is cut to a crowd with mundane music. You exhale heavily. You loosen your grip on his shirt and look up to him with a sheepish smile.  

“I thought you’re used to this.” He remarks inquisitively while looking confused as to why you were so frightened when you were the one who suggested the horror marathon. 

“Do you watch this stuff when you’re alone?” He asked further.  

“Of course not. I live alone. I might not get any sleep if I watch some by myself.” You giggle. “And it’s more fun to watch with others.” You let go of your grip on him and go back to how you were previously sitting. 

The movie went on with several more screams from you. You begin to feel Sakusa tensing up. You notice how intense he’s leaning on the couch. It’s like he doesn’t want any space behind him from the way he pushed his back to the cushioned backrest and seized the armrest with his right limb. His other hand was holding yours rigidly. Like him, you also start to be agitated as the appearances of haunted apparitions become clearer and more frequent. 

It came to point that you were kneeling on the couch and had your arms around him. You have no control on how tight you were holding on to him. You’re pretty sure you were squishing his cheeks sometimes, but you don’t hear anything from him. He seems to be immersed in the story as well because you can feel him flinch and jerk at jumpscares. At the turning point of the movie, it was basically a screamfest held by you. 

Seems like you blew his ear off since he tugged you to sit back down. Still, he doesn’t say anything and encloses an arm around you instead. You respond accordingly and use his embrace as your cover. 

When the movie ends, you breathe a sigh of relief, which is followed by a laugh and an applause. 

“That was so good!” Your eyes are beaming brightly from satisfaction. “Right?” You turn to him to see his reaction. 

He has a faint smile on his face, then nods twice. “I didn’t expect you’d be that jumpy,” he said.  You scratch your head while laughing embarrassedly. When you settled down, you just found yourselves staring at each other. The thick restlessness from the scary film was gone, replaced by something intimately familiar to both of you. 

He makes the first move. He gently cups your cheek and lets it linger momentarily while his eyes shimmer with tenderness as they remain on yours. Some people, namely your coworkers, found it weird that someone like you is dating Sakusa. According to them, you’re a firecracker while he was a defective explosive that only lights up when playing volleyball. 

But they’re wrong. 

They just don’t know that this Sakusa in front of you exists. He has his own ways of letting you know how much he cares. They were quiet gestures that spoke loudly and exclusively for you. And yes, you are a chaotic bundle of energy, so there were many days that even you, yourself overwhelm yourself. But he gives you peace that nothing or no one else has provided you. 

So when he leans closer to capture your lips, you immediately melt to him. 

What started out as an affectionate kiss begins to heat up when he grabs your waist and pulls you closer. Then, he grazes his tongue on your lower lip before biting it gently. To hell with your coworkers. He’s nowhere near a defective explosive when he makes you burn up like this. 

You want to feel him more, so you take the lead and straddle him. You grind your hips against his crotch and cover his mouth with yours. You’re getting eager to touch his bare skin so you pull up his shirt which reveals his toned chest and abs that made you drool. Best perk of dating a pro athlete. You look down a bit to relish the sight of him topless. 

“Um. Can you tie your hair?”

“I washed my hair right before we watched. It’s clean.” You don’t look back at him and continue trailing your palm down on his abs.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” You still keep your eyes on his torso while biting your lips.

“You’re like the demon lady with your hair down like that when you look down.”

You snap your head back up and find him clearly avoiding looking at you. You try to imagine what he’s thinking - the demon lady on his lap and is about to do the nasty with him. You throw your head back and roar from laughter. 

“You have quite the imagination, you know that?” you tell him with your eyes still twinkling from amusement. 

“You looked like her for a minute,” he insisted. You click your tongue while shaking your head. “Too bad, Omi. I don’t have my hairtie with me.” You get off from his lap and sit beside him. “Let’s watch a documentary instead?” He only replies with a nod.

“Sorry.I tried, but I can’t unsee it.”

“It’s fine.” You giggle and kiss him on the cheek. “I don’t want you having nightmares of me as the demon lady.” 

You grab the remote and put on a ghost-sighting documentary while he puts on his shirt back. It fell flat compared to the other two that previously went on, but you did not change it. You gave it a chance. Maybe there’s something interesting about it.

….

Sakusa woke up with the TV already displaying its screen saver. Before he passed out, he recalls you were starting to get drowsy with your eyes hazy while leaning on his shoulder. He doesn’t remember when, but he must’ve fallen asleep.

Not realizing that there was no weight resting on him, he looked beside him.

You weren’t there. 

That was odd. If you moved to the bedroom, you would have woken him up. He blinks a few times to clear his vision before scanning the corners of this room from his seat. His only source of light was the one emanating from the screen, but that should be enough to get even just an outline of your figure.

But there was no sign of you, just the darkness engulfing the inanimate objects in the room. 

“Y/n?” He called out, but there was no response.

He grabs the remote and turns off the TV. On the slight chance that you are already in his bed, he walks to his bedroom.

The cool metal of the doorknob wakes his senses. He’s suddenly more wary of everything around him. Because he wanted to reduce the accumulation of dust in his place, he did not place any unnecessary object that can cause dirt. That made his place look spacious and wide. It was only now that he became aware of the vast empty spaces on his back.

Yet despite the seeming emptiness, it feels like something is occupying the place, lurking in the vacant arrays of his home. 

A sudden breeze grazes his nape. 

‘It’s nothing. It’s usually cold this time of the year.’ He told himself even though he could feel the chill creeping up on his spine. 

He hurriedly turns the doorknob and opens the door, only to reveal an empty bed and an empty room. You aren’t there. He’s about to shut the door when the curtains suddenly fly softly at its hems. Yeah. It’s definitely windier than usual.

He closes the door and moves towards the bathroom. The lights are off in it, but you sometimes don’t turn it on when you get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. You don’t like sudden bright lights. Although when you do that, you usually leave the door open. 

The bathroom door is shut. His hand was ready to knock when he saw a shadow from his peripheral. He wanted to ignore it, but his trained eye caught the figure. He harshly spun to see what it was. 

Nothing.

It was nothing. The deafening silence augmented the dread that was starting to consume his being. He can feel the tips of his fingers get colder, his skin prickling from goosebumps, his throat getting dryer.

“You’re just imagining things,” he uttered to himself to quell his nervousness. He enjoyed the movie earlier, but he didn’t think it would get in his head. 

He turns back around to the door and knocks three times. No answer. He knocks again, louder this time. Where the hell are you? It wasn’t like you to leave without saying anything.

He heads for the kitchen to get some water, hoping that it can erase the uneasiness on his mind and body. Then he’ll call your phone as a last resort.

When he makes his turn at the corner of the living room leading to the kitchen, his breath gets suspended in the air at the sight. 

A woman who’s looking down stood in front of him. He’s never seen something so sinister. Her black pupils occupy the whole of her eyes. Her hair is down and framed her face in a perfect V shape. 

“FUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKK!” His thick scream broke the stillness of his apartment while stumbling a few steps back. It was followed by the woman’s screechy wail as she looked up to him. 

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Her hair falls a few inches away from her cheeks, giving him a clearer view of her face. It was not a haunted apparition. 

It was you!  

Now that he looks closely, your eyes were actually normal. It’s just that it was so dark and your eyelids were half closed so it seemed like your eyes were a complete block of black. 

When the two of you stopped exchanging screams, it was you who recovered first. He was still frozen in place with terrified eyes. “Oh Kiyoomi.” You put your arms around him and dipped your head on the crook of his neck. Your relieved heaving quickly bubbled into tittering as you realized how stupid you two must’ve seemed. 

You put a gentle hand on his face and looked at him. He’s still a bit shaken, but he meets your gaze. “I called for you. Why didn’t you answer?”

“I got a voice call from one of my editors so I was listening intently.”

“Why here?”

“I was getting water when I opened the message.”

“Were you in the living room just now?”

You frown at him. “No…. well actually, maybe? I was spaced out while walking when I realized I didn’t really get the water I came for. So I immediately went back to the kitchen.”

The breath he exhales is deep, but you feel his shoulders loosen up from it. “You didn’t even see that TV was already off and I wasn’t there anymore?” His tone was a bit irritated.

“I was preoccupied with what my editor said.” You pout. 

His demeanor softens up. He takes your hand off from his cheek and holds it tenderly.  “Let’s just get to bed already.” 

When you two lie down, you’re surprised that he’s spooning you. He never does. He doesn’t like your hair touching his face, even though you tell him that you’ve thoroughly cleaned it. Usually, you are the big spoon, which was weird because he’s way too huge for you, or you position yourself a bit lower so that your cheeks are on his chest and you aren’t obstructing his face.

“Next year, let’s go to that Halloween party instead. I’ll dress up in a PPE so no one touches me.“ He says in your ear while his arm snakes around your waist.

“Hmm. I dunno. I quite like this to be honest.” You hold the arm he has around you and snuggled closer. Yep. You’d rather have this.

Taglist:  @shinhiromi @elianetsantana @moonlightaangel @vicassa @shrimpypenis​ @sunshine-hina​ @isentsworld​ @kozupresh​ @humanitysbiggestsimp​ @omibaby​ @atsumubabe​ @sachirou-senpai​

[stab-the-son-of-a]

Whumptober No.2 - Talking Is Overrated

CW: Verbal abuse, selective mutism, bullying tactics, threats

“Don’t you ever shut up?” Sheridan asked Bryce.

At first he thought it was a joke, a bit of playful banter. He knew he was a bit of a motormouth and dealt with silences the way arachnophobes dealt with spiders: not well, and sometimes screaming. Frankly he’d been relieved- he and Sheridan hadn’t gotten along as children, but when Bryce’s best friend Leah started dating Sheridan, they both put in the effort for the sake of their mutual connection. Joking felt like a step in the right direction.

Unable to help himself, he laughed at the comment. “I’ve been known to sleep talk, so no,” Bryce joked back, nudging Sheridan’s arm.

His friend’s expression twisted and darkened. “Fuck, you’re insufferable and stupid,” they snarled.

“What are you talking about?” He took a step or two back from them, unable to help the motion. “What’s the problem?”

“You!” They exploded, meeting him step for step and then some, until they had him falling onto his ass on the couch and staring up. And then they leaned in, bordering him with their arms and getting right in his face. “You. Are. The. Problem.”

“I- I— what—”

“You’re obnoxious. You can’t keep your mouth shut about anything.”

He flinched at the reminder that he’d let slip a detail about the surprise party for Leah, but he also knew that people hiding and yelling surprise was the exact opposite of Leah’s idea for a good time. “Look,” Bryce began.

“Don’t say a word. For once in your life, shut up and listen.”

Bryce nodded. He was sitting down, to be sure, but he felt like he was sinking through the couch while his head floated away. It was stupid. He could shut up for a minute. His mouth felt too dry to speak anyway.

Sheridan continued, “You’re a fucking disgrace. No one wants to hear about your days scraping by through college or the little bronze trophy you got running a marathon once, or how your boss once gave you a raise because the minimum wage increased. I know these are the only things you have to be proud of but no one cares, Bryce.”

He… he had other accomplishments. He graduated college with honors. He landed a nice job. He had friends that liked him. He…

He had to put in too much effort to get a B. His uncle got him that interview, and his boss was too lenient and hands off to notice he wasn’t up to par. His friends only invited him out when they went somewhere loud, louder than him.

And the whole time, Sheridan remained in their position. Bryce’s chest tightened, wondering when this was meant to end and how. They didn’t lay a finger on him, didn’t even come close, but he felt penned in from all sides.

“You think you’re this great comedian, but you’re not. You don’t get it that just because no one reacted doesn’t mean they didn’t hear you. How arrogant can you get that you think the only reason people aren’t awkwardly entertaining at your stupid attempts at humor or engagement is because they didn’t hear it.”

Unbidden, Bryce remembered all those times when he had assumed they hadn’t heard him, when he said the same comment until someone answered him. That was… obnoxious. How hadn’t he noticed that pattern?

“Is it sinking in yet, Bryce? On a good day people tolerate you. But you go and fuck it up and make every regret trying to be nice and give you a chance.”

“That’s… that’s not true,” Bryce whispered, as if speaking any louder would prove Sheridan right.

They smacked the back of the couch, too close to his head— but they didn’t actually hit him. His heart still ground against his rib cage like a bonesaw. Sheridan lowered their voice as they stated, “It is.”

You’re an ass. You’re a jerk. You’re lying. But the words clogged in his throat, thick and sharp and cloying, like a razor thin wire cinching it shut.

“Try paying attention more and listening instead of talking constantly.” Finally, Sheridan relaxed and pulled back, granting Bryce breathing room. They smiled slightly, almost warm and definitely amused. “Now don’t you dare go and act ridiculous about our private discussion, Bryce. That mouth of yours could get you in trouble.”

Private. Bryce could do private. Just for now. Just because he still wasn’t sure what the hell just happened between them. Was Sheridan threatening him? Or was he just on edge and paranoid because he was overreacting to someone getting into his personal space? What would he even say? Who would he even tell? Leah adored Sheridan. She’d been over the moon and hopelessly in love since day one. She called them her soulmate.

Swallowing, and struggling to get the saliva past his too dry, too tight throat, Bryce nodded his agreement.

On their way out, Sheridan reminded him, “Try not to make an ass of yourself tonight. I have big plans and I don’t need your ego getting in the way.”

-

Bryce didn’t start out trying to listen to Sheridan’s… advice. In fact he wanted to talk more just to spite them, especially after he’d started on his second beer, but every time he tried to join the conversation, to throw in his two cents, to make a timely joke, his throat became tight and he struggled to speak past it. By the time he worked through it, the moment had passed and the conversation had moved on, so he kept quiet.

That night, while out with their friends, Sheridan asked Leah to marry them. She said yes. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes, and she peppered their face with kisses and showed off the ring to anyone and everyone.

She was so happy. The night turned out wonderful.

After, when everyone started to peel away from the conversation and the festivities to return to their normal lives, Leah pulled Bryce aside.

“You’ve been really quiet tonight,” she said.

So people had noticed. An odd feeling squirmed in his chest, but he smiled through it. “Throat’s a little sore,” he lied.

“You’ve probably strained something along the way, Sir Talks-a-lot.” Leah pulled him into a tight hug. Bryce sank into the contact, holding on to her and the comfort as long as he could, but too soon she pulled back. Where her hands lingered on his arms abruptly prickled, though she smiled at him. She was holding on to him, not holding him in place. “I want to ask you something.”

Shoot. Go ahead. I’m all ears. All sorts of answers sprung to mind but he just nodded.

“Would you be my Man of Honor?”

Bryce stopped. Thinking, breathing, probably other functions too. Yes. Yes. He wanted to support her on her day, hell he even wanted to support Sheridan, because they meant so much to her.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “Yes.” Could he say anything other than yes? He was repeating himself. That was annoying.

Shame burned up in his cheeks and he bit down on the rest of his mindless babble. Over Leah’s shoulder, he saw Sheridan approaching. Before Bryce could ruin the moment, he embraced her again, staring blankly over her shoulder as he tried to regain his regular heart rhythm.

“Love you,” Bryce murmured when they finally let go of each other.

“Love you too. Rest that voice of yours, okay?”

He just smiled back at her. It felt awkward and stilted, like he’d forgotten how to move his lips. To his amazement, Sheridan returned the expression as well as they wound an arm around Leah’s shoulders.

“Leah-bunny,” they whispered, “the car is all warmed up. Let’s head out.”

“Oh! Wonderful! Take care, Bryce. Text me when you get home safe, okay?”

He nodded. He swallowed and he nodded as he watched his best friend and her fiancé start to walk away.

Sheridan paused after a few feet and looked over their shoulder. “Oh, and Bryce? Thanks for tonight.”

Thanks for not ruining things. Thanks for not talking too much. It wasn’t just Sheridan who’d appreciated it. The whole group had laughed more, talked more, enjoyed the night more. Clearly they also had noticed the way Bryce finally stopped trying to hog the attention. Clearly they all approved.

He couldn’t think of anything to say in response to Sheridan’s comment, not even hours later, when he sat up in bed and stared out the window at a distant street lamp.

-

Bryce only really noticed it when, six months later, he tried to sit down and draft up a speech for Leah and Sheridan’s wedding, when he sat down in front of a blank piece of paper and couldn’t even consider putting a mark on it.

His mind was static. A heavy blanket of gray and black television snow, or maybe an all obscuring cloud of ash, so thick and oppressive that he couldn’t even breathe.

Gasping, Bryce crumpled the empty paper and threw it and the pen across the room. It was pathetic, it was overdramatic, he was an attention seeking, arrogant prick, and now he was crying and sobbing like a fucking child—

He didn’t know how or when each development occurred. It all seemed like one long blur, marked only by the knowledge that no one had stopped him, no one discouraged the progression.

His emails and texts were short and to the point, the bare minimum. He never reached out to anyone, only responding, and he turned down one on one invitations, so he could blend into the conversation carried by everyone else. Bryce became a detail in the background of life, something to overlook, rather than a participant. The only person not happy about the changes was him.

Bryce couldn’t remember the last time he said a word out loud. Curling up, he buried his head into his knees and tried. He tried opening his mouth and trying to say something frivolous, something at all to prove he still could, but his heart beat rabbit fast and his throat tightened, so narrow he couldn’t even breathe or swallow let alone speak. Tears wet the denim of his knees as he shrank up tighter in a ball.

Even his sobs were silent.

[binniedeactivated]

For the Time Being. || gyu💫

𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 <3 (i hope you don’t mind if I remixed it a bit)

╰─▸🖤❝ @[𝒃𝒖𝒈𝒔𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈.. ] 

✎𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒃𝒆𝒐𝒎𝒈𝒚𝒖 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 

✎ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆¡ 

✎ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕; 2k

[@𝒃𝒖𝒈𝒔𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆] 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇𝒇..

-ˏˋ🍧 “𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒎--𝒇𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆. 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘? 𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆...”.  ˎˊ-

“we have to hurry up choi beomgyu is playing tonight”, yara warns, smearing another coat of ruby red lipstick on her plump, weirdly attractive, heart shaped lips. 

“don’t worry we’ll be on time, let me just do this mascara real quick”. rayne then says shortly after smoothing her sparkly gloss on her lips and twisting the metallic golden cap of her mascara specially made by kylie jenner. you always thought elongated lashes perfectly complimented her beautiful brown skin. 

“right? we’re lucky we’re doing our makeup right now or else we’d never get a spot on the bleechers. yara is hella pressed for no reason”. sage quickly wits making you and rayne laugh in unison but only making yara scoff and look at her funny through the bathroom mirror. 

you would apply some eyeshadow, eyeliner, hell even mascara but you weren’t really talented at that. last time you did your makeup the girls teased you for looking like you were heading straight into your casket. so you left those things alone and instead did something you worked best at which was fashion. 

you wore a two piece pastel pink halter top with a tightly fitted skirt to match. you curled your hair as best you could and parted it to the side. you thought you looked pretty cute, especially with the soft pink half rhinestone/half fur chunky slides that you wore. you weren’t rich by any means, so you definitely tried your best to keep up with your friends whose makeup always outdid anything you wore. 

“i’m not pressed, and honestly the most pressed one in this room right now is the pink panther over there glaring at herself in the mirror”. yara combats, popping her lips in the midst of rayne and sage’s laughter to make sure she had enough on. 

“how am I pressed? you’re the one rushing us”. you reply trying to seem as unbothered as physically possible. it was harder to be unbothered when you actually were. you were bothered every single time, in fact. but that’s how everyone in your friend group interacted with one another, so you didn’t want to feel like the sensitive one. 

“you wore all that just so beomgyu can notice you? you did the absolute most. imagine having to wear skin tight clothes to be noticed”. yara always had this playful demeanor whenever she said things like this, so you never knew when she was actually joking. making it even harder for you to know when to be properly angry. 

“girl leave her alone. if she wants to walk around the game looking like she’s in a strip club then let her”. rayne defends. well, that’s how you interpreted it at least. 

she was defending you right? 

you laugh it off, “can you guys relax? it’s just an outfit”. 

“yeah anyways--”. yara neverminds, sparking another fit of laughter out of rayne and sage. sage rubs your shoulder in a half assed apology, “girl you know we’re just playing with you”. she assures. 

yeah, playing. except you were always waiting for the joke to start.

speaking of playing, the University’s varsity team was playing well. It was the biggest game of the year after all, so it was only right that they gave it their all. but up by 50 points during halftime? that was a guaranteed win. 

“god look at him, he’s so sexy”. yara stared, referring to beomgyu who was currently taking a rest to drink some water from his bottle, his long wet black locks desperately clinging to his forehead, sweat glissading down the milky skin of his neck and his ear piercings shining under the beams of the basketball court.

“he looks sexy sweaty, I can only imagine him shirtless”. rayne adds, just as stargazed as yara. 

you roll your eyes at them both. yeah he was cute, you thought. given, he’s the university’s most valuable player. but the way girls obsessed over him was utterly insane. you got the concept of a crush definitely, but you knew rayne and yara would downright stalk him if they ever got the chance. 

“the thirst is real”. you scoff before standing up, adjusting the purse chain dangling off your shoulder.  “I’m going to the snack bar. you guys coming?”. 

“oh my god he’s about to come over here”. yara freaks, anxiously tapping rayne’s hand. “i’m going to talk to him”. she adds while shuffling through her purse trying to find her lipstick. 

“calm down. he could be going to see his family”. you point out, not wanting her to get her hopes up only for them to be quickly shot down. rayne gave you this spiteful gaze before rolling her eyes. you knew she was going to crack another friendly joke.

“just because you can’t get a boyfriend to save your life doesn’t mean she can’t”. she sasses, leaving sage in utter shock. “damn rayne. that shit was kind of cold”. 

“she’ll get over it she always does”. she dismisses before helping yara get ready. your heart sunk, you wanted to cry. you wanted to just run back to your dorm and stay there for the rest of your life. but again, you couldn’t be the sensitive one. you maintained yourself by rolling your eyes in a sassy manner and heading to the snack bar alone. 

it was hard pushing through hoards of people who were stoked about the game. most of them damn near yelling about what team was going to make a comeback and how. you even almost ran into someone’s baby stroller, that’s how crowded the school gym was. all this, and all you wanted was a candy bar. 

to be quite honest, you didn’t know if you wanted to take your candy bar and go back to your seat or take your candy bar and leave. 

rayne knew that was something you were insecure about. yet she ridiculed you about it anyway. 

you swallowed the knot in your throat. trying to push her words to the back of your mind. 

“damn you alright? you look like you’re about to cry”. 

you turn to the voice beside you, wanting to pinch yourself at the sighting of choi beomgyu. you quickly fix your composure. 

“i’m fine. i’m just--anyway you’re playing well tonight. the university is definitely never going to stop talking about this”. you say with your heart fluttering. he nods in appreciation. he found it hard for his eyes to glare into yours so he fidgeted a lot. he was shy, but of course he was trying to play it off. 

“thank you. you sure you’re okay?”. 

“of course. why wouldn’t I be?”. 

“well I may not be an expert when it comes to girls... but they can say the opposite of what they feel sometimes”. 

“it’s really nothing beomgyu. you should get back to the court, the news is interviewing your teammates”. you say brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. not realizing that beomgyu was watching you closely-- wondering how in the hell someone could be so pretty. 

feeling his eyes you turn to him and he diverts his gaze quickly to the cashier since you both were next in line. he wanted to slap himself for almost getting caught. he smiles softly at the guy, “hey can I have a hotdog please?”. he asks and pulls out his wallet. you admit you were kind of shocked at his manners. 

shouldn’t star athletes be mean? cocky even? 

“would you like anything?”. he questions and you shake your head quickly. “no it’s okay I got it”. you assure before paying for your snack minutes after. you were expecting him to get his food and quickly run off to the guys but he didn’t. he was sort of waiting for you. 

no way was this happening right now.

you shyly stroll towards him so the both of you could continue your walk back to the bleechers.

alongside you, beomgyu took a breath, and decided to just go for it. 

just say it, beomgyu. she won’t reject you. 

“you know um--to be pretty you’re actually really timid”.

you stifle a blush from going to your cheeks. “well, when your self confidence is shot down by your friends everyday what else can you be”. you say sarcastically. 

“that doesn’t sound like a friend to me”. he replies. 

“yeah I guess that’s just how they bond with others? I don’t know. but it hurts even more when they do it for--worthless reasons”. 

“like what?”. 

“over a boy”.

“that’s pretty fucked up. they ruin your self esteem everyday over guys?”. 

“pretty much but I should be used to it at this point. I don’t want to be too sensitive maybe I’m just rambling”. 

“it’s not being sensitive if it really hurts your feelings. do you stand up for yourself?”. 

“i try but it backfires”. 

“revenge?”. 

you roll your eyes, pulling the chain of your purse back onto your shoulder. “how the hell am I going to get revenge on all three of them? they look better than me anyways”. you mumble. 

“well what guy is making them say all that?”. 

you nervously bit the insides of your cheeks and sigh.  

“you”. you mutter underneath your breath. “but I mean what would you care anyway? it’s not like that’s the first time you heard that someone liked you. several even. just go join your teammates beomgyu. don’t waste your time talking to me”. you quickly add. 

“I care enough to make them jealous”. 

“what?”. 

“maybe we can um--fake date. you know? at least so they can get off your ass a little”. 

your heart starts to pound in rates you never thought you’d reach. fake date? with choi beomgyu? is he joking?

“i can’t ask you to do that you have too much of a reputation on your shoulders”. 

“you didn’t ask me I’m offering. and I’m willing to do it as long as it’s okay with you of course. just a favor as friends. I promise to end it once you’re satisfied with the damage done.”. 

“w-well--”. 

“and I’m pretty sure as many times as they made you feel bad about yourself this one thing could ruin them all”. he chuckles sweetly. 

“it’s not that it’s just I’ve never even had a boyfriend before so how will I even act?”. 

“well first--”. beomgyu pauses to place his soft, way larger might you add- hand into yours. he squeezes it for good measure. “we hold hands”. 

oh god--he was only your hands and sparks of electricity shot through your veins. 

“but don’t you think we’re moving too fast? i go to the snack bar once and now I come back with a boyfriend”. you laugh. 

he chuckles, “don’t tell them we’re dating. look I’ll walk you back to your seat and do some flirtacious shit and you just follow my lead”. 

you nod with your nerves burning holes through your stomach. you finally approach the spot where you were sitting and you could see the girls freak out until they noticed his hand intertwined with yours. 

you diverted your gaze as beomgyu walked up the bleechers with you and led you to your seat. you cross your legs, trying to make things look as natural as possible. 

“thank you gyu”. you daintily smile and he smiles back. 

“no problem, don’t lose the number I gave you. I have to get back to the game”. you nod assuringly and wondered how the hell gyu was so good at this. you were practically torn on the inside. 

“I won’t. play well!”. you shout after him. “always!”. he shouts back blowing a kiss at you while making his way to the court before halftime was over. 

it was fake but, why were you smiling from ear to ear?

[giorno-plays-piano]

Humility

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader  Warnings: yandere, obsession, swearing, mentions of misogyny; this story will get darker as it progresses.  Words: 1380.  Summary: Everything was too different now. He fell out of time, and he didn’t need another reminder about that.  P.S. Yeah, I know Sam in this one is more like Anthony Mackie, but this man is just incredible! And yep, the question Bucky asks the reader is the exact question Sebastian Stan was asked during one of his interviews. _____________________________________  Bucky never felt so stupid in his entire life. Sitting at the counter in probably the fanciest club in New York, he stared down at his glass filled with whiskey. The music was so loud he couldn’t hear his own thoughts, and all those ridiculously dressed people around him didn’t make him feel any better. Bucky had no right to object, though, since he felt he was even more ridiculous than any of them. He wore that expensive black suit Sam got him – they spent the whole fucking day trying to find something that would fit his massive body – as if he were a businessman of some kind. He let out a dark chuckle when Sam said it out loud. Bucky didn’t look like a businessman, he looked like a bloody mob.

It was Sam’s idea to get him acquainted with NY nightlife when he learnt Bucky was going to the same small bar close to his house after every mission. Barnes didn’t protest much thinking it might be a nice change, but it was not even close to be as good as he had imagined. It was nothing like before. The music was wild, too rhythmic, thundering, getting on his nerves. How could they dance to this? Although the way people moved was making him sick too. Yelling, spinning around themselves, shaking their asses – it was utterly disgusting. The only good thing was lack of light since Bucky couldn’t see all the sodomy.

He expected everything to change, but it was like a completely different planet. Where were all those nice slow dances? Where was the intimacy between the dancing couples, gentle touches, and humble smiles? These people behind his back were grinding on each other like fucking dogs.

Bucky emptied his glass in one shot and looked at his expensive watch he got from Natasha and wore for the first time. This place was getting on his nerves, and he intended to leave in the very next minute after paying for his drink.

“Enjoying yourself, man?” Sam’s jolly voice forced Bucky to turn around and see him with a group of pretty women, all wearing flashy revealing outfits and shiny jewellery, their hair and makeup done as if they were some fashion models.

Though in his time models looked way more reserved than that.

“I do.” He said in a firm voice, and Sam immediately read through the lines. “Didn’t know you were a ladies’ man.”

Women he brought started laughing at his remark, their skin glistening in the warm light coming from pendant lamps above the counter. One of them had her hand on Sam’s arm just above his elbow. Were they prostitutes? Bucky watched them intently.

“It’s all my natural charm,” the man winked to the girl close to him, and she sent him a smug grin.

God, females became too full of themselves. Bucky didn’t hate bold women, but there was a huge difference between a girl like Peggy Carter and these narcissistic sex-obsessed furies.

“Don’t be fooled by his façade, this gentleman over here is a great guy and my best buddy!” Grinning, Sam patted him on the shoulder. “His name’s Bucky, we’ve been serving together for quite some time.”

These women started saying hello and introducing themselves, but he didn’t care for any names. His memory was too precious to waste it on this.

Then they were talking about some stupid things like why they were here – one of the girls got a promotion, and Bucky was almost sure it had nothing to do with her being a hard worker – and what they did for a living. Sam briefly mentioned both of them were in Air Force before but didn’t push it. Then all of them had more drinks, and then they talked again, and drank again. Bucky thought he was rather unlucky: if he could get drunk, he wouldn’t need to listen to all this bullshit.

“Hey, let’s go dance!” The woman Sam took liking to pulled him by the arm gently, and he smiled at her. “Are you coming, girls?”

“Sure!” Most of them were ready, leaving their empty glasses on the counter. “Are you, Bucky?”

He shook his head apologetically, thinking of nothing but leaving this place and never coming back again. Everything was too different now. He fell out of time, and he didn’t need another reminder about that.

Most of women had already left when he ordered his last glass of whiskey. There was one of them sitting close to him and smiling to her friends dancing. Apparently, she drank too much to move from her spot. When she realized he was looking at her, she suddenly got all red and turned away from the crowd, staring in her half-empty glass of champagne.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.” She said slightly embarrassed. “I just don’t dance much.”

“You’re not bothering me.” Bucky replied shortly and made a sip of whiskey, burning his throat again. Her closeness almost annoyed him. “Why don’t you dance?”

“I don’t know. It’s just… I don’t feel very comfortable.”

Interesting. He glanced at the girl in a long sequined dress, her knees covered by a strange shining fabric. Her cleavage wasn’t on display either. Although her outfit was too extravagant to his tastes, she looked the most modest among her friends. She was probably the humblest one, too, since he couldn’t remember her speaking much.

“Besides, I can only waltz. I don’t think I can fit in here with my dancing skills.” She laughed a little and took her glass, watching the little bubbles going upwards inside.

Waltz. He remembered dancing a waltz with his mother when he was a kid, stamping on her feet constantly. Regardless how clumsy he was, she kept teaching him until his legs were sore, but he was grateful for her lessons later. Girls loved dancing with him.

“Me neither.” He smirked, and she stared at him with wide eyes. “In fact, I’m not a big fan of places like this.”

The girl smiled again, and he find himself smiling back at her. Maybe coming with Sam wasn’t as bad as he thought. Beautiful women like her never payed him any attention in normal circumstances.

In the next few minutes, he found himself talking to her about some small things like favourite music and movies the two of them watched not so long ago. To his pleasant surprise, she liked old Hollywood movies – the ones that came out after he had been captured, but still old – and their charm. She said those movies had a soul, and Bucky couldn’t agree more. Sam took him to the cinema multiple times, but most modern blockbusters, thrillers and fantasy movies felt empty and too unreal to relate.

“My most favourite one is “12 Angry Men”, I think. Have you seen it?”

“Guess I did. It’s about 12 juries deciding upon whether a kid is a murderer or not, am I right?”

“Yeah, exactly!” Her face was glowing, and he found himself staring at her excited expression. “Don’t you think it’s impressive that almost all the action took place in one small room? It was nothing but pure actors’ skills that made this movie so good. It had neither special effects nor big budget comparing to movies today, and yet nothing could compare to it.”

For a few seconds he was just watching her, her cheeks pink from slight embarrassment and the alcohol she had. He strangely adored the way she spoke and how she looked at him while explaining why she was so passionate about the movie. Maybe she had too much makeup on her face, but he could easily wipe it off her face. He could take her fancy dress off and see her perfectly human body, no different than any other women’ of his time. She would moan beneath him like a few of them did, too. And the next morning he could give her another dress and dance a waltz with her like all those years ago.

“What is the first thing you see in a person?” He asked abruptly, and she blinked, seemingly uncomfortable but still ready to give him an answer right away.

“Humility. And… and kindness.”

He chuckled. She was definitely the one.