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imaginethatneathuh · 2 years

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Siempre: Chato Santana/El Diablo - Suicide Squad 2016

Teen!Chato Santana (El Diablo) x teen!afab!trans masc!reader, friends to possible lovers, romantic

Chato goes to a party, dragging you along, but you both end up leaving early and spending time alone together.

Editing by the incredible @dragon430. Seriously, could not have done this without her.

TW/CW: racism, transphobia, depressing thoughts, self-doubt, mentions of arson/murder, classism, paranoia.

Word count: 8.4+ K

•

After all the years you’d known each other, Chato knew that parties were not your scene. They’re too loud, have too many people, or are just irritating. You preferred solitude and silence to all the hustle and bustle of parties. But, as much as you disliked parties, Chato also knew that if he pulled out his puppy-dog eyes, he could get you to do just about anything.

You didn’t even have to admit your weakness to him. He knew you too well for you to hide it. And, as good of a friend as he is, he often used it to his advantage to get what he wanted.

Frequently, he’d wondered why you’d fold. But when he got close to what he knew was the answer, he set the thought aside. Chato knew, deep down. He just didn’t want to think about it and what it meant. He refused to acknowledge it for both your sakes.

Slowly though, his resolve was weakening.

The more he used your weakness against you, the closer he got to leaving the answer bare for both of you to witness.

On any other day, you’d be sitting in your room, probably doing homework or reading, but once again, he exploited your weakness. He’d been so adamant and sincere, using his beautiful eyes to entrance you like he knew they would. And, just as he predicted, you couldn’t say no to him. So, Chato had, with all his wicked ways, convinced you to go to some rando’s house for a party.

You’d complained the whole way and even before leaving, but, he’d just flashed you that smirk, something odd but calming in his eyes. It was as if he was saying “don’t worry, I’ve got you”.

It had worked, just like it always had and always will.

The house you were going to was in a wealthy part of L.A. with big houses and pretty lawns. The assholes who owned the place probably hired people like you and Chato, blue collars, to do the yard work and clean their pools. Because, of course, they want to spend all their money on a fancy house and an extravagant pool and bar to one-up everyone else but couldn’t stand to lift a single fucking finger to do any work themselves.

But, maybe that was just the bitterness, resentment, and a tiny speck of jealousy talking.

Though, even if it was, your point stood.

As much as you hated to admit it, this was a part of L.A. people like you and Chato would never be able to get to unless you worked there or were just passing through, as you so regretfully are now.

The two of you, despite your better judgement, walked up to the lavish, clean house. It almost felt like another dimension. Too clean and polished—too different from what you were used to. The neighbourhood had an entirely different culture, and it resonated so deep you could feel it in your bones, setting your nerves alight and urging your flight response to kick in. Every piece of you screamed to leave and find someplace else to go to, and you really would’ve done it if not for Chato. Though, even having him with you wasn’t enough to soothe all your unease.

As you looked around, you noticed the stupid shit that you’d never get to enjoy like them. The people who lived here had nothing better to do with their money than spend it on trivialities like a plain, white-person lawn and fancy door-knockers. While people like you worried about how you were gonna keep a roof over your heads and feed yourselves. It was constant, the fear of which paycheque wasn’t going to last till the next one.

But these people, they did whatever they wanted with their money. Could spend it on whatever their hearts desired. They never had to worry about shit except for when mommy or daddy would hand them their next allowance big enough to buy three of the apartment complexes your family lived in, pushing you out in the process.

It boiled your blood.

And la chica who’d invited Chato was one of ‘em. She was so bored with her perfect life she’d been handed that she’d decided to have some stupid house party and invite a bunch of strangers, probably like Chato, kids who were “different” to her.

She’d obviously only asked him because he seemed “dangerous” and “exotic”. According to Chato, she’d all but said it outright, and when you’d heard that, you’d rolled your eyes so hard that Chato saw nothing but the whites.

Because, you know, it’s not like it’s fucking L.A. or anything and Hispanic/Latino American were everywhere. They were dime-a-fucking-dozen like Black people in Chicago or Detroit, not that little Miss Priss stepped out of her privileged bubble enough to actually know that. Which is exactly the type of person you hated.

Your dislike was something Chato typically shared. Usually, when shit like that happened, he’d tell them to fuck off or blow him or something like that. But, surprisingly, Chato had accepted the invitation this time around.

Told you he just wanted something to do.

“Besides, Chaparro, if we go together, we can hang out and bullshit. You can even annoy me into doing my fucking homework if you want. Got my permission an’ everything,” he’d said.

Though that’s not to say that he wasn’t unsure of his decision. These types of places and people unnerved and irritated him just as much as they did you. He knew he wouldn’t blend in, but, he supposed, that was the point of inviting someone like him as much as he hated to admit it.

If anyone were to ask, he’d choose to stick to boredom as the motive for his uncharacteristic behaviour. But, the fact of the matter was, you were an even better one. Besides, it was worth being uncomfortable and a little on edge if he could get you to have some fun.

And maybe he’d get really lucky and hear you laugh. Get you to bury your face in his chest to stop and hide yourself from everyone else’s eyes, saving the sight of your joy for only him to see. Feeling comforted in the safety of his arms as he can wrap them around you and blame it on the need to keep you steady from your rippling giggles.

That was the dream, anyway. One you were none the wiser to.

Because, in your mind, he could have chosen anywhere, and he didn’t. It was odd, though not entirely out of character. He did like to party, but the crowd and type of people were a big leap out of even his rather large comfort zone.

You knew his choice of location would nag at you all night. But for right now, you chose not to question him. After all, there’s no need to ruin his night, so you’d just let it go and bring it up some other time.

Maybe he just needed a change of scenery or a reason to fight and blow off some steam (literally). Maybe he wanted to show off a little for you or maybe even get you to calm him down. He liked it when you did that, even if he’d never say it.

Whatever the reason, he’d already started to regret his decision, and he hadn’t even made it to the front door yet.

Chato warily watched his surroundings, searching for anything off amongst the well-manicured bushes.

Maybe this was a setup, and when he got too close, a couple of cops would jump out of the bushes, ready to accuse him of something.

It was a stupid worry but a worry, nevertheless. One that rarely left him.

Chato had expressed that anxiety and paranoia to you once or twice, usually when he was stoned and his lips were looser. You’d do what you could to relieve that almost instinctual panic whenever you could. But, sometimes, no matter what you did, nothing seemed to help. This is one of those moments. In a place like this, that people like you could be shot at for just looking in its direction. And all you could do right now was stay close and check on him.

You could imagine that you’re sharing the same thoughts about this whole party. How maybe it was some fucked up prank by the girl who’d invited him. You may not have known her, but from the sounds of it, she seemed like she would pull something like that for her own amusement.

But you knew a bit better than that and beat that thought away. After all, unlike at home, the cops didn’t hang around here that much. No easy way to fill their quotas. But even knowing that didn’t make you feel any better. You knew it wouldn’t make him feel any better, either.

The grim and fearful look on Chato’s face told you plainly what he was feeling. And despite his hands being stuffed into the pockets of his well-worn jeans, you could see them pressing against the fabric, clenching. You knew his knuckles were probably pure white right now, maybe even purpling from his crushing grip.

“Chato.”

He hummed in acknowledgement.

“Will you relax?” You asked, setting your hand on his upper arm. The leather sleeve of his letterman was alarmingly warm. “I swear, you’re more freaked out than I am, and you’re the one who actually likes parties.”

Chato chuckled lightly and glanced over at you; an intense stare that threatened to burn the door down softened as it landed on you. The tension visibly evaporated from his muscles, the extra heat going with it as he threw an arm over your shoulders, continuing his trek to the house.

“Don’ want nothin’ to happen to my favourite person, is all,” he said before looking around again.

His paranoia, while slightly endearing, also worried you. The whole reason you agreed, ignoring the puppy-dog eyes, was because Chato wanted to relax. If he wasn’t, there was no point in being here.

You slipped your own arm around his waist, listening as the asphalt lightly crunched under each step. It was far less than you were used to but still enough to temper your nerves.

“Don’t worry about me, bud. I ain’t a baby.”

Pulling away slightly, you walked along a small crack, trying to do anything to keep your thoughts off of how many people you were gonna find inside. But, you didn’t get far before Chato pulled you close again, like a bungee cord snapping you back to safety.

“I know, Chaparro,” he said, lips twisting into his signature smirk that’s usually paired with the nickname. “I know. You got those big kid pants on.”

You giggled lightly at that, the familiar joke enough to settle your thoughts.

He was good at that. Calming and comforting you, that is. If there was one person you trusted, who you wanted to be comforted by, it would be him. Always.

•

The two of you made your way through the fellow party-goers with red solo cups filled with who knows what. Probably soda or alcohol. Maybe both.

There were mostly rich kids with a few people like you and Chato hanging around. It was almost painfully obvious which was which. The poor kids didn’t have pristine or strategically ripped clothes or nice accessories. The rich kids did. You were pretty sure you saw some kid with a Rolex, for fuck’s sake. What teenager has a fucking Rolex?

You died a little inside as you watched the people around you. The differences were too obvious to be anything but disheartening.

But, despite the cups and people, it wasn’t like all those parties in movies and shows with so many people it was impossible to walk around. There were still enough to make you regret coming, though.

And while the number of people was less than expected, the loudness made up for any absences, especially near the TV where a bunch of people crowded around two others playing some racing game. The sound system was expansive, too. Wires and speakers were strung and stationed everywhere to give the sound that extra boom it needed to be heard by everyone in the house.

In short: it was sensory hell.

Turning to Chato, you watched him grimace.

There weren’t a lot of kids like you roaming around. But the ones that were looked as uncomfortable as you felt.

None of you had any idea how to act in this strange and alien world.

If the cops received complaints about this place, you all would be the first to go. They would probably think you were drug dealers or some shit. Anything they could to make the trip worth it.

“We can leave if you want,” you whispered into his ear, a hand on his chest to keep yourself steady as people hustled by. “I know I want to.”

Chato shook his head. “No,” he swallowed before taking a deep breath. “No, I can’t just leave without at least saying ‘hello’ to Leina. I did agree to come, after all. And Abuela always says: you should always thank your host.”

You gave him an inquisitive look. Not about his abuela’s saying but about the name he dropped. It sounded vaguely familiar and ignited a tickle in the back of your brain, trying to drag up any memories you had of it.

He turned slightly as he felt your gaze on him, and he, undoubtedly, froze that very second. For a moment, he was lost in your eyes, and scarily enough, he wanted nothing more than to stay lost and forget the world around him, around you both. To hold you tight in his arms and never have to let go, to feel your gentle, loving hands caress his inked skin hidden to all but you, to kiss those lips taunting him to do so, and, Dios, did he want to. But he knew that wasn’t possible, so as quickly as he had fallen, he dragged himself back up and into reality.

At your pressing and slightly confused stare, he feared that he’d made things awkward in his silence. He quickly reminded himself again and again of his place in your life. That place was not of lovers permitted to fall into each other but as friends who shared jokes and homework answers. That was all he was and all he could be, no matter how else he felt.

“La chica, who invited us?” he clarified after finally finding his voice and forcing himself to focus on literally anything but your lips.

You mouthed an ‘oh’ before nodding. “Oh, yeah. Her. Lo siento, couldn’t find the effort to care to think about remembering her name.”

Chato chuckled to cover up the cough to clear his suddenly dry throat. Shaking his head, he pulls you ever closer, close enough to kiss, not that he could muster the courage to do it. “That, mi amigo, was a very confusing sentence.”

You couldn’t help the shiver that ran down your spine at his warm touch. If you could, you would spend all day wrapped in his arms, safe and secure, with no other worry in the world. And while you get that sometimes, you can’t help but want more. To see his eyes filled to the brim with adoration of the romantic sort while his lips whispered sweet nothings for you alone to hear before he lowered himself to kiss–

Mentally, you slapped yourself for thinking about him like that.

You’d recently found your mind wandering to it more and more, and you weren’t entirely sure how to stop it. Usually, a nice mental slap to your face was enough to clear the haze, but that took a while to get through, so you can’t really do that here. Thinking quick on your feet, a trait you rarely possess, you quickly covered it up with a smile and let him keep you close.

His eyes never left yours, making no move to pull away, and you’re almost tempted to risk everything and close that little gap between you both.

Right up until some asshole bumped into you. This resulted in Chato quickly switching into “asshole mode” himself, as you’d affectionately started to call it.

“Oye, gilipollas, watch it!” he shouted at the boy, arm unravelling from your waist to be shoved in the other guy’s direction.

The other boy shrunk back, obviously not used to people being so aggressive. He was scrawny and wore baggy—and clearly expensive—clothes.

You didn’t know why that had set Chato off. It was a slight bump, if that, and an accident. But Chato had been on edge even before you got here.

That moment, just a few seconds prior, had been the calmest he’d been since arriving.

Besides, right now, the only thing that mattered was making sure Chato didn’t get hurt or arrested. You couldn’t bear the thought of that happening.

“Chato,” you said, pulling at one of his outstretched arms. “Let it be. He didn’t see us. It’s fine.”

“The fuck it is!” he snapped, lips curling into a snarl that had the other boy practically pissing himself.

His letterman jacket started to smoke as it smothered the flames beneath, and you took it as a sign to stop him before he decided to burn the whole place down.

Grabbing Chato’s shoulder, you yanked him back, glare turned at him with enough fire to counter his powers. “Fucking chill, Chato.”

If you were anyone else, he’d have burned you for that. But it was you, and hurting you was the last thing he’d ever do. You knew he’d never be able to live with himself if he harmed you. Chato hadn’t ever said it, but he didn’t need to.

A few other teens had started rubbernecking which earned them a sharp glare from you. They got the picture and swiftly went back to minding their own business.

Chato, meanwhile, roughly pulled away from you for fear of hurting you, mumbling in Spanish under his breath as he paced in circles. It worked to calm him down a little, and thankfully, the other boy ran off, taking the hint to run while he still could.

You turned to face your still angry friend, staring for a minute to measure his state.

He rolled his shoulders back, refusing to meet your gaze. He was embarrassed for losing his cool like that. But he was the hothead. Still, your disappointment was too painful to meet.

“Maybe we should leave,” you said, resisting the urge to cover your eyes. His heat waves could be pretty powerful at times like this.

“No,” Chato responded, tone clipped but noticeably calmer than before. “Estoy bein.”

You nodded.

When Chato wanted to do something, he tended to be rather stubborn about it. It was easier to let it be and watch him; pull him out when you needed to and all.

“Okay. But let’s not do any drinking tonight.”

Chato rolled his eyes, but his annoyance was betrayed by the small smile on his face. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like your concern for him. “Whatever you say, jefe.”

To be frank, he hadn’t wanted to drink anyway. He didn’t trust whatever the alcohol would let slip especially after the last time when he’d almost confessed. Besides, when he was with you, he didn’t want anything else to take up his time. You were it for him, all he needed.

•

A few minutes later, Chato saw Leina talking to some people. They put scraps of paper into two hats, one blue and the other red.

Leina happily, and awkwardly, waved them away.

Chato gently touched your back and guided you over to her. He did not want to deal with her alone. The first few times were more than enough.

“Hola, Leina,” Chato said with a strained smile. It refused to meet his eyes.

Leina looked over and grinned. “Chato, you made it!”

He nods stiffly, not really looking at her. His hand dropped from your back, and he tucked it into his pocket.

Oddly, your back felt cold without his hand there. No, not cold. More like empty. You chalked that up to Chato’s powers and his supernatural warmness. Something in the back of your mind said otherwise, but it was easy enough to ignore for now. You’d gotten rather good at that, actually.

Ignoring it, you stood there and crossed your arms. Your eyes fell to the floor, trying to stay out of this interaction as much as possible.

You weren’t the one invited anyway; Chato was. He had just brought you along. So, technically, it was up to him to make introductions.

It’s one of the informal norms you’d learned about in some random book you were reading. And, at times like this, it was one you were willing to abide by if it meant you wouldn’t have to talk to this chick.

“And who’s this?” Leina asked.

Mierda.

You could feel her looking at you, but your gaze remained rooted to the ground.

“Y/N, my best friend,” Chato said. “We rarely go anywhere without each other.”

His gaze drifted over to you as he watched a small smile creep onto your face.

His words were enough to give you the courage you needed to glance up at Leina in all her rich, white bitch glory.

Leina looked you over with a critical and clearly judgemental gaze. Her genuine smile had turned into something strained and oddly malicious. Something felt wrong as she looked at you. You couldn’t fully describe what, but everything felt off in your stomach. It was almost like a mouse faced with a cat, but the mouse wasn’t quite sure if the cat was hungry or not.

Deciding to push that aside, you squared your shoulders and put your hand out in greeting.

“Hi, Leina. It’s nice to meet you.”

Leina hummed with that fake smile on her face. “Why’s your voice so high-pitched? I thought you were supposed to be a boy?”

Your jaw clenched, hand dropped in an instant at the obvious jab.

It wasn’t the worst you’d gotten, but it hurt nonetheless. It wasn’t like you didn’t know.

“I am. Unfortunately, I’ve got a girlish voice. Genetics: They suck,” you joked, trying to play it off.

It came off as awkward, which was pretty much your life’s synopsis at the moment.

“Riiight, sure.”

Her sarcastic tone grated your ears like nails on a chalkboard. But again, you pushed it aside with little but a slight wince.

Chato wanted to stay and have fun. And if you had to put up with Leina’s bullshit for him, you would.

At not getting the rise she was aiming for, she quickly turned her attention back to Chato. “You gamble?”

“¿Qué?” Chato asked, confusion lacing his voice at the switch in her attitude and the abruptness of her question.

Leina giggled and set the hats she’d been holding on a nearby table. “Are you willing to gamble? We’re gonna play 7 minutes in Heaven. Everybody puts their name in a hat. One person from each hat gets chosen to go into the closet together for 7 minutes. Or do you need that translated?”

You rolled your eyes and folded your arms again. As much as you wanted to say something, you knew that Chato preferred to stand up for himself.

And, as always, he did.

“Translated? Seriously?” he spat. “You do realise I was born and grew up here, right? Right here, in California. In Boyle Heights, actually.”

You smiled slightly at his snappiness and let your softened gaze wander to him.

The light from the floor lamp not too far away was at the perfect spot to illuminate his head, making it almost seem like a halo was sitting on his buzzed, black hair. His eyebrows furrowed as he glared at her, and there was a slight scrunch to his nose.

It was cute.

No, bad Y/N.

You mentally slapped yourself again before directing your ire back toward Leina.

If what she’d said hadn’t pissed you off so much, you might have felt bad for her.

Most people who angered Chato didn’t usually do it again. There was a damn good reason for that. The guy could get scary.

Watching him for a beat more, you did have to appreciate how good he looked when he was angry at other people. Sometimes, it’s a little sexy… not that you’d noticed.

Leina raised her hands in surrender, Chato’s glare too scalding for her to do much else. “I figured, I just thought—”

“It doesn’t matter what you thought. You’re wrong.”

“Okay, sorry,” she grumbled. “Do you want to play or not?”

Chato deliberated for a moment, letting his anger subside.

This wasn’t about him or what he wanted. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight, he wanted to make you happy and comfortable.

So, he looked over at you expectantly. “You wanna?”

In his eyes, it wasn’t worth it. Not only had she slighted him, which he was used to, but the comment about you had already got him going. Anything revolving you getting hurt always did. He’d have much rather watched Leina burn than stick around. But, he figured, you might want to hang out and have some fun for once. It was your decision. Who was he to take that opportunity away?

You shrugged. “Sure. I don’t get it, but why not, right?”

Leina’s strained smile came back, clearly more eager for Chato to play than you, as she stuffed a piece of paper in your hand without even a glance.

You wrote your name down with the pen she offered. But, as you went to put the scrap into the hat distinctly labelled “boys”, Leina stopped you.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “That’s for the boys, not girls.”

You laughed through your nose a little, already expecting the comment but hoping it wouldn’t come. Sadly, the universe did not answer your prayers. “I am a boy.”

“Hmmm, pretty sure you’re not, though,” Leina said with that smile that didn’t reach her cold, conniving eyes. “Boys don’t look like that.” She gestured up and down at you as if you didn’t know your own body.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you squared yourself. It was just a stupid comment, after all.

Frankly, you were more worried about Chato’s reaction.

You looked over at Chato. His nose was twitching, jaw clenched with a deep-set frown on his face that was so close to turning into a snarl you could count on one finger how long it’d take for that to happen. A light amount of smoke lifted from his shoulders.

His fuse had already been burned rather short today. A few seconds longer, and he’d blow.

You wouldn’t allow that to happen. You couldn’t. It’s what you were there for. To protect him, even from himself and his own short temper.

Without another word, you turned back to her, put the paper in your mouth, and chewed.

Leina jerked back slightly at the rather odd behaviour before a wad of wet paper got spat at her scrunched-up face.

Chato himself was shocked by the action. His fuse had been doused by the hilarity of it.

And this is why I love you. he thought.

“Thanks for the party, perra, but we’ve got to get going,” you said with a smile, wiping the spit from your mouth as you walked away.

Chato followed quickly, desperately trying not to laugh but mostly failing as some quiet chuckles slipped past his bitten bottom lip.

Leina just stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. The wet wad fell to the ground with a small splat.

•

Right as the two of you headed down the stairs, Chato let loose all his muffled laughter.

“That was hilarious, Chaparro.” He stood there with a grin on his face, crinkled in both his nose and around his eyes, as he looked over at you.

Dios, it was cute.

“I mean, the fucking look on her face! That alone was worth coming here.” His hands flailed everywhere as he spoke, that pretty grin of his plastered on his face.

A smile of your own ghosted over you, but it refused to meet your eyes. “Glad you found it amusing.”

Chato’s eyebrows furrowed, his grin faltering into a frown at your expression. “Hey,” he said, “you good, homie? ‘Cause, you lookin’ a little lost up here.” He gently tapped your temple for emphasis.

You shrugged.

Truth be told, no, you weren’t okay. But Chato didn’t need to know that.

After enough years of hearing mierda like that, you were used to it. A little time disassociating usually did the trick, though. At least, until it happened again.

One of Chato’s warm hands laid on your upper arm, squeezing gently. You pretended not to notice, hoping he’d leave it be, but he didn’t.

Fingers drift down your arm, the heat leaving goosebumps in their wake until they eventually settle around your waist. “N/N,” he whispered softly, pulling you closer to where the heat penetrates through the gloom and cold shrouding you. The warmth was appreciated in both aspects. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“Estoy bien, Chato. Prometo.” The words fell from your lips, well-practised in both Spanish and English.

“Then why are you crying, mi todo?” He gently wiped away a tear you didn’t know you were shedding.

You leant into his hand with nothing more than a heavy sigh. That only furthered to worry him.

“N/N, talk to me,” he begged. “Please.”

You meet his eyes, and it felt like you were going to break. The heavy weight that had long since settled on your shoulders seemed impossible to lift right now with his gaze fixed on you. His warm, black eyes searched yours, pleading with you to talk to him as he pulled his hand away to settle on your arm.

Chato wanted to know. You could see it. He wanted to lift some of that weight, shoulder it with you instead of letting you do it all by yourself. You knew it because you felt the same. His problems were yours, and yours were his. Always.

“No lo sé. I’m used to it, but I guess stuff piles up.” You laughed a little at the situation as you wiped more tears away, the first one acting as a catalyst to bring forth the rest. “I’ve heard all of this before, and something this small is what gets to me. Kinda pathetic.”

Chato shook his head. “You are the furthest thing from pathetic, N/N. The fucking furthest. I never met someone so strong, besides maybe mi abuela. But this isn’t about her.”

A small, sad smile surfaced on your face at the comment.

This stupid idiot really loved his grandma.

Chato pulled you into an unbreakable hug, arms tensing to keep you secure in his embrace. The weight of him against you was like Heaven with the leather and cotton of his jacket wrapping you in his scent. Add to that Chato’s unnatural warmth, and you could stay like this for eternity.

“I could burn the whole place down if you want?” he asked, mumbling it into your ear.

You knew if you gave him the go-ahead, he would. But there was no point. It wasn’t the adults’ fault or any of the other teens there. If you were going to exact revenge, you’d do it on the person who wronged you in the same manner as she had. A true eye for an eye.

Then, of course, there was the irrational fear that someone could find out and take him away from you. The thought of that terrified you to the core and outweighed any need for revenge immediately, so you shook your head.

“Okay.” He pulled away slightly as his hands found their way to your cheeks, cupping them silently. “La opción está sobre la mesa. Just say the word, and they’re goners.”

You shook your head again before reaching your hands up and holding onto his wrists. “No, Chato, but thank you.”

The two of you pause, getting caught up in each other yet again. It was as inevitable as the day and night at this point.

“Your eyes remind me of dirt,” you mumbled, trying to pull yourself out of the intoxicating aura of the heartthrob known as Chato Santana.

Chato, surprised, busted out laughing.

Dios, how you loved his laugh. His smile. His, well, his everything, really.

“Lo siento. ¿Qué?”

You shrugged, smiling. “Your eyes remind me of dirt. Like, rich, fertilized soil. The kinda soil that is so dark and rich with nutrients, life is bound to grow there. Like in the Amazon or Nile. They’re so pretty. So… I don’t know, just so you.”

Chato’s grin only further widened, despite the weird compliment. In fact, it was rather tame in comparison to some others you’d given him. “You are so weird, Chaparro.”

“You say it like you don’t love it,” you said.

Chato rolled his eyes, playfully annoyed. “Gracias, N/N.”

“De nada,” you said. “Now, I have to ask, are you okay? After what Leina said to you?”

Chato snorted, accompanied by another eye roll, of course. “La perra es estúpida. Real insults come from family, not some random bitch. It was more annoying than insulting.”

You hummed but watched for any signs of him lying. After a moment of awkwardly (at least on your part) staring into his eyes, there didn’t seem to be any. Thankfully.

He grabbed your hand, letting a smile surface again. “Now,” he said, “how ‘bout we get out of here? Have some fun elsewhere?”

You squeezed slightly before nodding. “Let’s.”

•

Laying on your back with your head pressed against a tree trunk, you stared up at the cloudy, smog-ridden L.A. sky and wondered what it would have looked like before the Industrial Revolution and massive amounts of smoke were introduced to the atmosphere. Was it as entrancing as you’d read? With colours and detail you could only find in remote locations now? Then again, the way some people wrote about the stars way back when, you’d write about Chato and his stupid, pretty eyes now. You couldn’t see what was so hypnotizing about the stars when you had him. Then, you wondered if you’d always have him or if he’d leave you alone with the stars trying to match the way he shines.

Thankfully, your position was very uncomfortable and pulled you from your thoughts. You shifted slightly, grunting at the pain that jolted down your spine. At least it distracted you from the pain that had embedded itself into your heart, though.

“¿Estás bien, Chaparro?”

“Sí,” you said. “Think I’m gonna get a kink in my neck from laying like this, though.”

You rub the back of your neck, squirming at the discomfort while trying to find a more comfortable position to lie in. At least the grass was soft. Though, the tree roots were not.

Chato nuzzled into your stomach for a moment, his nose tracing a path that sent shivers through you. But before you had the time to relish in the affection you so adored, he pushed himself up, sitting on his haunches between your legs.

As soon as his warmth left you, you regretted saying anything.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, frowning. “What are you doing?”

Chato smiled down at you, a street light glinting off his dark eyes and adding sparkles brighter than the stars themselves. “Tryna make you feel comfy, duh.” He slipped off his letterman and folded it into a very flat pillow. He only wore a tank and his silver cross under it. The metal glint drew your eyes to his toned chest it dangled in front of, like a magician's pocket watch, threatening to hypnotize you. For a moment, you thought about grabbing it and pulling him in. “Don’t move,” he said, leaning closer to you.

“Whatcha gonna do? Suffocate me?” You joked, trying to distract yourself from the closing distance.

Chato paused for a second, hand lingering in the air as he pondered your words before slipping the jacket behind your head. “Nah, not my style. If you died by my hand, which’ll never happen, I’d make it quick; so you don’t hurt too bad.”

“Awww, Chato. How sweet.” You playfully jabbed his stomach.

Tried to, anyway. But he was faster.

He knew you well enough to know what was coming. He always did.

Chato’s other hand came down by the side of your head as he caught your wrist in his dominant hand. Despite the roughness of the grab, there was no malice or harshness to his grip. In fact, it was rather comforting, especially after he started rubbing your skin with his thumb.

You wondered then what it’d be like if he was holding your hand instead of your wrist. Maybe he’d rub your fingers or the back of your hand the same way he did your wrist. Maybe kiss it every once in a while? Just to spice things up.

You could only hope.

“Careful, Chaparro; the Devil burns hot when he’s angry,” Chato whispered lowly, the sound reverberating into you.

It did something to you, his tone and even just his words. Something you knew wouldn’t be approved of.

His eyes found yours. And in the light of the street lamps, you could’ve sworn, on all that was unholy and sinful, that there was something behind his eyes. Something that you’d seen before on quiet nights in hidden places and parks like this. Something that sparked a fire in you.

He was good at that. Annoyingly good. Even if he didn’t realize it.

Chato loosened his grip slightly but continued to hover over you. He relaxed a little, too, the untensing of his muscles only bringing him ever closer. Too fucking close, just like at the party. If he got any closer, you were pretty sure you’d break and end up with your lips on his.

You flattened your hand, palm facing his chest, and he rested on it. His tank top was the only thing between the two of you. If you really wanted, you could have even slipped your hand underneath it.

You didn’t, of course. That would defeat the purpose of putting your hand there in the first place.

If it weren’t for the streetlight, you would have thought he was blushing.

You let yourself wonder, just for a moment, if he liked the touch and the closeness and the everything as much as you did.

Chato’s eyes flickered to your lips. Though just as quickly, the trailed back to your eyes, a hint of fear in them. From what, you couldn’t tell.

Even with the white tank top between your hand and his abs, you could feel the lean muscle beneath (or would it be above? Inside? You weren’t sure.). You’d always thought about the calories he had burned every day by running as hot as he does. It did him well. Too well.

You considered pushing upward. Maybe kissing him like you’d always wanted to, feeling him against you as you wrap him in your arms.

But then you’d lose a friend. A good friend. A lifeline. Someone who’d been through everything with you and stuck by you no matter what. You couldn’t. You already had so little. If you lost him, too, you’d have nothing.

“Chato,” you mumbled, not sure what else to say.

You weren’t exactly thinking straight right now. In more ways than one.

Chato just hummed; his eyes flickered to your lips again, almost as if he couldn’t resist. “What is it, Chaparro?”

You tried to think of something to say, but all you could think about was kissing him.

The thought was going to drive you mad one day; you knew it, too. When all you could think about was whether or not his lips would feel nice against yours, if he’d be gentle or rough, if he’d kiss you like a starved man or like you were a delicate flower, it was bound to drive you loco. Would he touch you? Maybe caress your cheek or squeeze your side? Would he want more? Would it mean anything to him?

How couldn’t you go mad when questions like that consumed your waking and resting thoughts?

“N/N?” he asked.

“Hmm?” You looked into his eyes, his warm, soft, and caring eyes. You’d be lying if you said they weren’t one of your favourite traits. “Sorry, you’re eyes are just so… enchanting? Is that the word? No lo sé. They make me feel safe and warm like a hearth. Like I’m home… And they’re so…” Your voice quiets as you trail off. Gently, you cup his cheek, your gaze wandering over his face. He leant into it, eyes fluttering shut as his breathing slows. On instinct, you spoke the words in Spanish. “Tan bonito…”

There was a pause before anything else was said. Chato was so enthralled by your touch, he couldn’t think for a moment.

“Eres bonito,” Chato whispered, breath fanning across your face. His eyes ever so slowly cracked open.

They were still barely open as your eyes locked, hazy with you.

You gasped slightly at his words.

You wanted to believe him, but how? How could someone like him believe that? After all, your body and mind don’t exactly match up. Not in the way you wished they would. And, he’d never shown any interest, not in you or any other guy. Hell, he rarely showed interest in girls.

“Don’t say that,” you whispered. You pulled away from him and his infernal warmth, resting your back against the tree. Chato’s jacket was a rather comfortable seat.

Chato sat up, watching you.

As soon as the words left your mouth, he wanted nothing more than to pull you close and repeat them until you believed him.

“Not to someone like me,” you continued. You refused to meet his eyes and hugged yourself, seeking what little comfort you could find without his warmth. “You want to say that to someone normal. Not a fucked up freak like me.”

“Freak?” He asked. “Chaparro, I was cursed by the Devil himself. If either of us is the freak–” he gently tilted your face to look at him, “–it’s me.”

Your hand found his wrist and pulled it down. Still, you couldn’t muster the courage to let go of it. He was your lifeline, whether you liked it or not.

“You’re just built a little different in a way the rest of the world doesn’t like. That’s all.” He rested a hand on one of your calves, thumb tracing over the bone as his fingers squeeze the flesh in a gentle hold.

His words, as simple as they were, felt good in your chest. But, well, he could be insulting you, and you’d probably still enjoy it as long as he was the one saying it.

You bit your lip and looked up at him. “The same could be said about you, Chato.”

The two of you shared a sad smile, his laced with an underlying concern that you couldn’t quite describe. But you had a feeling there was something similar in yours.

The both of you were trying to lift the other up even if neither of you believed what you were saying.

“You’re not just pretty, you know?” Chato said. “You’re the handsomest guy I’ve ever been lucky enough to see.”

You laughed. “Pretty sure that’s not a word. Also, we live in L.A. There are plenty of attractive men and women around.”

“Not to me, mi cielo.” It was his turn to cup your cheek. The two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Not for long, anyway. It was almost like an undeniable want that burned bright in you both. “While sometimes I had a hard time seeing what I loved about you, I always found it again. I always wanted to find it again. Even when we were fighting over stupid shit.” He smiled gently. “When we were kids, I needed you. I needed a friend. But, as we’ve grown up, I can’t help but want you. I know I shouldn’t. I know I should want some chica with a nice set of tits or a nice ass. But, at night, all I can think about is cuddling with you until we fall asleep or sitting with you on the couch watching something stupid. Sometimes, I think about kissing you and showing you just how much I- well, how much I love you. I dream of it, actually.” He laughed a little at the admittance.

“That’s a little embarrassing,” you said with a smile. You meant no offence and thought it was mind-numbingly sweet. And, truth be told, you often did the same. You were fantasizing about it not that long ago, actually. But still, hearing him say that out loud. It was frightening.

You knew what you were, and it wasn’t a girl or a woman. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t force it on yourself. It wasn’t in your nature. You already knew Chato got shit from his other friends about your friendship. And you were pretty sure his abuela would kill him if she thought something was happening. If things between you progressed, who knew what would happen? Times may be changing, but not that much.

The risks of being trans are enough to scare anyone. It routinely did that to you. You were afraid to even leave your home most days. If someone were to be with you, it’d be like putting a target on their back. Add to that being gay? It was a recipe for disaster.

A disaster you didn’t want Chato to have to go through. He had enough to worry about with his pyrokinesis.

Chato rolled his eyes. “Hush, N/N,” he said. “I’m trying to tell you something important.”

Rubbing the wrist you were still holding, you slide your fingers down until you can slightly grip his hand. You wanted to touch him, feel him close by. Even when he was the source of your discomfort, he felt like the best medicine for it. “I know, I just- I think I’m in shock.” You looked up, relaxing a bit as he rubbed your knuckles.

Dios. That was nice. Real nice. You weren’t sure the two of you had ever done that. Held hands so gently. Sure, you hung on each other like no other, but this just felt different.

“Do you– How do you feel?” he asked like he didn’t already know.

Maybe he just wanted you to say it. In that case, you were happy to oblige.

You almost laughed but held it in for his sake. “Chato, I practically hang off you. I compliment you at every turn. I write you stupid letters and give you whatever gifts I can. You’ve had my heart for years, and no matter how I try to take it back, you rarely let me keep it for long.”

Chato’s face split into a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling at your confession.

“¿Lo dices en serio?” he asked, slipping into his mother tongue out of habit. After all, his abuela had made sure Spanish was the first language he was taught.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then, can I kiss you?”

You paused for a moment and began to fall into yourself again.

A kiss would make it real. It would solidify things. Speaking them gave them a reality, but acting on them cemented them in this world.

“Chato, I- I don’t know. If anyone finds out—”

“Just one then. Just one kiss. Sólo uno. Then, fuck, we don’t gotta talk about this again until you’re ready. If you ever are.” He sounded so desperate, like a man begging for his life.

You bit your lip and looked deep into those beautiful eyes of his, searching for something. What, you didn’t know. You rarely did. Maybe it was sincerity this time, to make sure he wasn’t fucking with you.

“Okay,” you relented. It wasn’t like you didn’t want this, too.

As soon as the words left your lips, Chato went in. He wasn’t going to waste this chance or wait too long and give you time to go back on it. Chato had wanted you for so long. Well, long in comparison to his rather short life so far.

But in his rush to not waste the opportunity, he kinda fucked up.

While Chato had made the smart decision to tilt his head, he didn’t do it enough. That lead to his nose deciding to awkwardly press into the side of yours which felt weird on your nostril. He also applied a little too much pressure parting his lips enough to scrape against your teeth since your mouth was open.

Despite the surprise and awkwardness, you wanted this, too. Even as the overactive part of your brain kept listing off reasons to not do it. So, you kept going and trying.

Eventually, Chato pulled back and sighed.

He knew it was bad. After all, he’d never done this before.

Still, he met your gaze despite being embarrassed.

You laughed. “Ya know, I don’t think that’s how they do it in the movies,” you pointed out.

Chato couldn’t help but smile.

Of course, you’d play it off like that. It was you, after all.

“We could always try again?” he offered.

You shook your head. “Maybe some other time. I think I need to process these very sudden developments and revelations.”

He nodded before standing. “We should go,” he said. “Abuela is probably losing her mind from worry, and I know for a fact you got shit to do tomorrow.” He offered you his hand. “Speaking of which, can we can do this again tomorrow?” There was a light in his dark eyes, the kind of light that, when it surfaced, seemed to light up the whole world.

You took it and pulled yourself up, taking his letterman with you. “I’d like that. But, we should keep this quiet. Until it’s safer.”

Chato nodded before kissing your cheek. “Whatever you want, mi amour,” he whispered.

#chato santana #chato santana x reader #el diablo #el diablo x reader #suicide squad #suicide squad 2016 #suicide squad fanfiction #x reader #jay hernandez

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

I Didn’t Mean It - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, cursing, death

Summary: It was too early for this. All the yelling, the fighting, the screaming. You didn’t give in but for some reason Bakugou just couldn’t let it go. Words get said and hearts die.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“YOU FUCKING ATTENTION WHORE!”

Your boyfriend, whom you’ve been dating since your second year in junior high, was currently screaming your head off.

Last night, the two of you and your friends all went out but the night ended early for you and Katsuki when some rando got a little too handsy with you. Even though you pushed the guy away, Katsuki couldn’t help but feed into his jealous nature. You both argued all night but you left the argument early and went to bed, too exhausted with everything that just went down. Unfortunately, Katsuki was stubborn and the second you woke up to get ready for patrol, he brought the argument back to life.

“A-Attention whore? Katsuki, I pushed him away!” You said with a cracked voice as you gathered your things. Bakugou was standing near the kitchen island as he slammed his fist on the counter and continued to yell.

“Why do you think he went to you in the first place, Y/N?! You walk around, dressed like a fucking slut, even though you have a boyfriend!” He screamed.

His words were hitting hard and you teared up the slightest bit as he continued yelling. “Katsuki! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Would you quit fucking crying! Just fucking admit you were going to be a fucking hoe and cheat on me! Then you can get the fuck out of here!” He screamed in your face. You squinted your eyes as the tears pricked at the end of them.

“…is that what you want? You want me to leave?” You asked with a broken heart. You could see the hesitation on Bakugou’s face. He was fighting himself, trying to force himself to bite his tongue and take back every harsh thing he said but his pride wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t mean any of it. His heart cried for one thing while his wild mouth said another.

“…..yes.” He muttered. He watched as your face grew in heartbreak and he could practically hear your pulse booming. You bit in your lip to hold back your sobs before you blinked away your tears and nodded.

“I’ll get my stuff out after my patrol.” With that, you walked off to the door and left to work but not before you heard Bakugou mutter a soft ‘I hate you,’ knowing full well that you heard. Bakugou stood in the now quiet house, immediately regretting everything he said.

He knew you weren’t a cheater. He knew you wouldn’t do that to him. He doesn’t know why he said what he did but all he knows is that he’s going to make it up to you once you come back home. He’ll do whatever it takes. He loves you after all.

—

After hollowing in sadness and regret, Bakugou got up and began his plan to make it up to you. He left the house and went out to buy groceries, a new Teddy Bear for you, a necklace, and a bouquet of your favorite flowers and another bouquet of roses.

With the new groceries, he made your favorite meal and baked your favorite dessert. He wrapped the gifts and placed them on the beautifully set table that was littered in flower petals and candles. Bakugou was sure this would help aid in his apology.

Throughout the day, Bakugou sent you multiple texts trying to explain and apologize. He sent multiple messages and was starting to grow a little hurt at the fact that you weren’t replying to any of them. He tried calling but when you didn’t pick up, it worried him. He sent voicemails to no avail and continued waiting. It was only a morning patrol so you should be back soon. Right?

—

Wrong. Bakugou sat in front of the t.v screen with an open jaw and wide eyes as tears fell from his face.

Pro-hero, H/N, fallen in tragic battle against villain.

Bakugou could feel the world stop. He felt his heart beat all throughout his body as he shook. He couldn’t move. It was like he was frozen in place as he stared at the screen showing an image of you being impaled. He snapped out of his trance when his phone rang. Stupidly having hope that it was you, he immediately answered.

“Y-Y/N?!” Bakugou screamed into the phone with a broken voice.

“I’m sorry Bakugou.” He recognized the voice as his best friend, Kirishima. “I don’t think she’s gonna make it.”

Bakugou began to huff as he looked around the house. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t what he wanted! You were supposed to come home and make up! You were supposed to be here with him! You were supposed to be home!

“Where are you?! Where are you, where is she?!” He screamed into the phone. Kirishima gave him the information and Bakugou was out the door, blasting his way to your location.

He forced himself to go beyond his limits as he traveled the distance to where you were located. He arrived at the busy land where the battle took place. He ignored everything else and set his sights on where you could be, until he finally took notice of a crowd of people, surround your seemingly lifeless body.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!” The pro screamed at the crowd. Everybody took notice of the hero as he ran to your body with tears in his eyes. Tears he vowed to hide from the public. As Bakugou landed, Kirishima and a few other heroes at the scene pushed the crowd away and told them to leave the couple be. The paramedics tried to take your body from Bakugou in a foolish attempt, but Bakugou refused to let you go. The paramedics allowed him to hold you, for they knew it would be for the last time.

Bakugou knelt down at your side and pressed your body to his chest. He still held frantic eyes as he examined your condition and felt his heart sink when he came to the conclusion that you weren’t doing so good. “Hey..hey, hey, hey. Y/N? Y/N, please. Please baby, wake up!”

His heart and head were in battle as one knew you weren’t going to make it while the other held hope and prayed you would. Bakugou moved the stray pieces of hair that covered your beautiful face and caressed your cheek. “Y/N come on! You have to wake up! We have to go home now!”

As his tears finally fell and dropped onto your face, you began to move and awaken due to his sobs and pleas.

“……..Katsuki,” you ever so gently whispered out, barely audible. But Bakugou heard you. He heard you well.

“Y/N! Fuck- thank fucking god!” He exclaimed into your neck as he cried. He sobbed while you merely looked to the sky, waiting for the heavens to take you.

“…I’m gonna die.”

At your words, Bakugou picked his head up and looked at your dull and almost lifeless eyes. His heart began panicking again as he shook his head. “No…no, baby, don’t say that. You’re gonna make it. I swear!”

“……I didn’t get to move my stuff out. I- ngh- ….I’m sorry.” You said with a weak look as you stared at nothing. Bakugou felt his tears fall heavier as he was reminded of your fight. He told you to leave. He told you he hated you. And he hated himself for even doing it.

“Y/N, please don’t leave. Please. I don’t want you to go..I- I didn’t mean it! I want you to stay. Stay with me! Stay alive! Please don’t go.” He begged as he held on a little tighter. You felt yourself growing weaker by the second and your vision was beginning to dull and turn hazy.

“…it’s too late.”

“It’s not! Please, it can’t be! Y/N!” Bakugou looked around for help when he realized he was left alone with you. “Y/N, please! Just stay a little longer!”

“…I’m tired, Katsuki.”

“I-..I know baby. I know. But- you have to stay awake, okay!? Stay awake, stay alive!” Bakugou cried as he looked at your life force drain right in front of him. What was he going to do?

You began to curl in a little more as you felt your body relax in his hold. “Katsuki?”

“Yes baby?” He frantically asked.

“…. I love you..and I’m sorry.”

His body took a screenshot as he looked at you in shock. Sorry? For what? You did nothing wrong. Today was horrible and it was his fault and now..he was paying the ultimate price.

“Y/N, I love you too.” He cried. He didn’t know what to do. What to say, what to think. He didn’t know anything. All he knew was that he wanted you to live. As he cried with shut eyes, his world stopped spinning when he felt you become dead weight in his arms. He shot his eyes open as he looked at your now lifeless body. “Y/N?…..Y/N!”

You didn’t get to hear him say it back.

Bakugou shook you, but to no avail. You were gone. But he refused to believe it. “Y/N!….Y/N wake up! ….This isn’t fucking funny! Please!”

Bakugou continued to try and get you to open your eyes until paramedics came to take your body and heroes pulled him away from you. “No! NO! LET ME GO! LET ME HOLD HER! PLEASE!”

“Bakugou! Stop! She’s gone!” Kirishima screamed as he held Bakugou back. The blonde continued to fight and struggle against the heroes that held him as he continued to reach out for you.

“NO! SHE’S NOT GONE! SHE’S THERE! SHE’S RIGHT THERE! PLEASE! LET ME GO! GIVE HER BACK TO ME!” Bakugou watched as the paramedics laid you down on a stretcher and covered your body in a sheet. The sight made Bakugou nauseous as he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“NO!” He cried as he used his explosions to push away the heroes and ran to your body. The sight of the angry and heartbroken hero scared the medics away as Bakugou ripped the sheet off and was finally able to have you in his arms again. Kirishima was the first and only one who tried to reach out to him.

“Bakugou-“

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM US!” He screamed as he held into your dead body.

“…Y/N..baby, please wake up. This wasn’t supposed to happen!” He cried as he pressed his forehead to your own and held onto the side of your face. “I’m so sorry we argued and had that fight…but- but I was going to make it up to you! I swear! You were supposed to come home..so I could give you flowers..and gifts..and- and I made your favorite meal! I set everything up back at home! You have to wake up so you can see! YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP SO YOU KNOW THAT I DIDN’T MEAN ANY OF THE SHIT I SAID!”

You remained silent and breathless, and yet Bakugou still tried, hoping you could hear him.

“Wake up…so we can go home. So I can show you all I did for you. So I can shower you in a thousand apologies, so we can cuddle on the couch…please.” He cried. “Y/N…..”

All of a sudden, Bakugou was pulled back by a hero’s quirk and held there. He fought against restraints and screamed against everything and everyone. “NO! NO! GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!”

He continued to scream until he felt someone jab him with a sedative. He felt himself going weak and feeling drowsy. He was getting tired. His vision became fuzzy but he was still able to see them cover your body up once more as Kirishima tried to hide his view of you.

“No!” He screamed in a weaker, more tired tone. “No, please. Please..just-…just let me hold her. Please……Y/N….” And with that, he was knocked out.

—

When he came to, he awoke on his couch with Kirishima sitting at his feet with his elbows on his knees. When the red head noticed the blonde’s opening eyes, he was quick to grab him some water.

“Hey man, you’re finally-“

“WHERE IS SHE?!” Bakugou asked, slapping the glass of water out of his best friend’s hand. He grabbed onto the red’s shoulders and demanded answers. “WHERE’S Y/N!? TELL ME NOW!”

Kirishima looked at Bakugou with pitiful eyes. He slowly took hold of his friend’s hands and pulled them off of his shoulders. “Bakugou…I’m sorry.”

The blonde began to shake his head in denial as he began to cry again. “No..no! No, no, please! She can’t…”

“Bakugou…”

“She can’t be gone.”

The blonde began to sob uncontrollably as Kirishima consulted him the best he could. He was unfamiliar with the blonde’s despair, the hot head had never been this upset before. The two friends remained on the couch until Bakugou calmed down enough to a point where he could talk…barely.

“H-How long have I been out?” Bakugou asked.

“Just two days. Don’t worry..you didn’t miss her…” Kirishima looked at his friend’s broken face as Bakugou lifted his head to show his friend his depression. He knew what words were coming. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear them. “….you didn’t miss her funeral.”

Bakugou squeezed his eyes shut as he allowed his head to fall as tears poured out of them. He silently suffered before asking another question. “When is it?”

“…in a week. Y/N didn’t have any family left-“ Kirishima felt his friend tense at his words. “…She didn’t have any blood related family left to give her one, so our friends and the agency put together a small one. Just her closest friends, the agency, and the heroes who fought with her in battle.”

“……I’m not going.” Bakugou stated.

“What?” Kirishima asked. “Bakugou, Y/N was your girlfriend. You guys were together even before U.A. and even after that! You both built a home together. How could you not go to her funeral?”

“I can’t face her! Not yet. I don’t deserve to get a good look at her face after what I did.” The pro sobbed. Kirishima looked at him in confusion, urging the blonde to continue. “I-….I said so many horrible things to her. I called her a fucking whore! I- I completely disrespected her and accused her of cheating when I know she didn’t! I told her to leave and to get the fuck out of my life! I told her I hated her!”

“Bakugou…”

“KIRISHIMA I TOLD HER TO LEAVE BUT I DIDN’T MEAN IT!” He screamed. Bakugou began to cry again as he finished pouring everything on the table. “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t want this! And- and now, I’ll never be able to get her back!”

Kirishima processed his friend’s words and began to understand exactly why he was so upset. He placed a hand in his friend’s back before softly speaking. “…Go to her funeral. Going could give you some closure and relief. Don’t say you don’t deserve to see her because you do. Y/N would want you to be there for her. …Honor H/N’s name.”

Bakugou said nothing as he kept his head in his hands. He didn’t sob uncontrollably anymore but Kirishima could hear his sniffles. The friend pulled him in for a small one sided hug and spoke.

“You’re my brother, Katsuki…I hate seeing you this upset.” With that, Kirishima got up and walked to the exit. Before he left, he looked to his friend with a sad look. “I hope you show up..for Y/N.”

—

The day of the funeral came, and Bakugou didn’t show. He couldn’t. Despite everything Kirishima said, he just couldn’t bring himself to face you. To see you dead. Pale faced in the casket. The thought alone made him sick to his stomach.

Time passed and months went by before Bakugou could even leave his house to go to your grave. The first time he went, he brought your favorite flowers in a mix of roses. He found your name engraved on the stone slab before placing the bouquet down and sitting. It was a beautiful day..and all he could think about was how you weren’t here to enjoy it with him.

“Y/N…I’m so so sorry. The day you left..you didn’t even get to hear me tell you that I love you too. I love you so much and now you’ll probably never know just how much I do. You’ll never get to wear the ring I got for you..you’ll never get to walk down the aisle..I’ll never get to be the one to receive you at the end of that aisle. We’ll never have that family you wouldn’t stop talking about. We’ll never get to grow old together..and be together forever like we planned.” He said with a sorrowful expression.

“I told you I hated you, I told you to leave but I didn’t mean it! Please….. come back! I love you and I want you here with me! I didn’t want you to go, I didn’t mean it, please!…

…I didn’t mean it.”

As he cried at your grave, a gust of wind blew against his hair in a soft breeze. Too lost in his tears, he couldn’t make out that it was your spirit attempting to comfort him.

A ghost of you rested on your grave as you looked down at your ex-boyfriend crying more than he ever has before. You got down on your knees to sit infront of him as he cried with his head down as you placed an empty hand on the side of his face, knowing he couldn’t feel your touch.

“I know you didn’t mean it, Katsuki…I know.”

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04

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redpandaramblings · 3 years

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Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 3.

Part 1- Here

Previous part Here

Next Part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship

Where we left off-

You glanced up at the sound of the door. In came your parents, then the Yokomadas. You did a double take as the final person, the omega you were here to meet, entered the room. They looked equally as startled as your eyes locked.

“Y/N?”

“Denki?!”

You slowly walked through the teahouse garden, your electric blond friend oddly silent as he kept pace with you. Your parents and the Yokomadas had allowed the two of you a bit of privacy to talk. So far, neither of you had mustered the courage to break the awkward atmosphere. Neither your parents or the Yokomadas had seemed to pick up on Denki or your mood. If anything, they were thrilled you two already knew each other. With a sigh, you sat on a bench by the koi pond, not looking at the blond as to settled down next to you. After several minutes, he spoke.

“So. What are you doing here?”

You snorted, and gently dumped your shoulder against his.

“Right back at you, Pikachu.”

“I’ll tell you. After you tell me.”

You chuckled humorously, and tilted your head back to look at the sky.

“Would you believe me if I said I was just here to appease my mother?”

Denki considered for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. You’ve been saying no to her for years. So tell me, why are you here.”

You take a deep breath and let it out again slowly through your nose.

“I… I think I wanted to be here. Needed to.” You wrung your hands, throwing a sideways glance at Denki. “I… I want to be mated. Have a family. Have someone who needs me and lets me need them. I used to think Kat… I used to think Bakugou was my person. But I’m not sure anymore, Denks. You know what he’s like and so do I, but I’ve waited for years, and nothing, and I’m so tired, and I’m not even sure he even likes me anymore, and…” You’re stopped by Kaminari gently rubbing your back.

“Breath, Y/n. Come on. Deep breaths.”

You inhaled shakily. You hadn’t even noticed you’d been hyperventilating. Quiet settled again, aside from the sounds of nature and your slowly slowing breathing. After a few moments, you spoke again.

“I’m just so lonely, Denks. I see him every day, and I’m still so goddamn lonely. So I think… I think it’s time to let go.” Your lips twitched slightly upward as you tilt your head to look at him. “Am I terrible?”

Denki huffed out a breath and shook his head. “You? Never.” He sighed, removing his hand from you back as he began picking at the hem of his sleeve. “I wish I could say I didn’t understand. But I do. I’m kinda here for the same reason after all.”

You gave an encouraging hum and reached out, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his knuckles. He interlaced your fingers, giving a squeeze before continuing to speak.

“You know how I feel about Shinso, right?”

“I think everyone but Shinso knows how you feel about him.”

Denki snorted. “Yeah. Not surprised. But that’s the problem. I’ve liked him for years. Little bit of a crush but at UA, thought I could play it cool and it would go away; but then the agency paired us together and, well.” Denki gestured with the hand not holding yours. “It was so easy! I’d go boom! And then he’d go pow! Then shoom! It was amazing! He was amazing… And so I tried to get his attention. I tried so damn hard. And you know me.”

You snorted, giving his hand a squeeze. “You’re about as subtle as a brick through a living room window.”

“Exactly!” He shouted, pulling away to stand up and pace. “I flirted. I used all my best pick up lines. I asked him out to the club, and he said yes. But do you know what he said afterward? He said though it wasn’t his usual scene, it was really good being able to hang out with a friend. I… I asked him to spend my heat with me.”

You inhaled sharply. Kaminari looked at you with an expression you hardly recognized. He collapsed onto the bench, leaning heavily against you.

“He said ‘I’m glad you’re that comfortable with me, but it probably would be better for you to ask someone else.’” Denki whispered, sniffling.

“Oh.. Denki.” You wrapped your arms around the blond, squeezing him tightly. Half out of instinct, you tried to pump out soothing pheromones while you gently scented his hair. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing, sweetheart. You’re a wonderful omega!”

That was all it took for Denki to start sobbing heavily in your arms. You squeezed him tightly as tears filled your own eyes. The tears fell when Denki wrapped his arms around you, hugging you just as tightly as you held him. There in the tranquil garden you both huddled together as you finally allowed yourself to cry. Years of hurt and longing fell from your eyes one drop at a time.

You weren’t sure how long it had been when the two of you slowly pulled away from each other. You used your thumbs to wipe Denki’s cheeks. He gave you a halfhearted smile.

“So,” you asked tentatively, “what should we do? They’re going to expect an answer from us about this whole…” You waved a vague hand “Marriage date thing.”

Denki hummed, puffing up his cheeks as he blew out a breath. “God, I don’t know. Certainly wasn’t expecting it be you, you know? No offense.”

You drew back, gasping in mock anger. “Full offense!” You could only hold your expression a few seconds before you started snickering.

Denki grinned his first really grin of the day. “Well excuuuuse me for insulting your alpha sensibilities.”

“You’re excused. For now.”

You both chuckled. Looking out at the pond, you spoke again. “I just wish I had the right answers. And I really wish we had more time.”

Denki furrowed his brow. “Well… Technically, we could.”

“What do you mean?”

Denki bounced on his seat. “Okay. So. Hear me out. We both need time to process, clearly. Also clearly, our families are just not gonna give us that. So… Why don’t we do this?”

“Wait. Wait. We do this?” you asked, both curious and incredulous.

“Yeah! Think about it. One! They mainly want us in relationships they approved of. They set us up, so clearly, they approve. Two! If we say we’d like to try out this match, they obviously aren’t going to set up any more dates; therefore buying us time. And bonus of no annoying randos. Three! We can say we’re going to take the relationship slow because we’ve both been burned before and want to make sure. Four! Four…” Denki trailed off, looking at his feet.

“Four is maybe if we can’t find a love match at least we’re friends who work well together?” You murmured.

Denki nodded, glancing at you with a rueful smirk. “Yeah. Exactly. Vibe on the same wavelength. Hell, we even want similar shit in life.”

“Actual house, few pets, stability…”

Denki nodded again. “Sucks, but would make sense for us to consider it. As much as I fucking hate the ‘You’re not getting any younger’ speech, they are kind right. We can’t waste all our time waiting for things that aren’t gonna happen.”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “God, don’t you hate it when they’re right about shit like that?”

“You have no idea.”

You stood, stretching. “Well, I guess we go tell them, then.”

Denki groaned. “There isn’t enough saki in the world for that conversation.”

“And just so we’re clear, this stays between us for now, right? No one knows but us, our folks, and I guess your cousins.”

“Agreed. I don’t want to think about what anyone would say. Bakugou would kill me!”

You winced. “Unlikely. I doubt he’d care. But if Mina finds out, everyone will know.”

“You’re not kidding. No worries from me, I don't want this getting out any more than you do.”

“So… Engaged, I guess?”

Denki dusted himself off and stood. “Deal. Engaged.” Denki stuck his hand out, and you shook it.

You both turned and started making your way back to the teahouse, taking your time and going the long way to be sure to avoid and of the other patrons. This was fine. A good plan. Nothing could go wrong as long as no one found out.

And there you have part 3! Sorry the wait and thank you all for being patient! If anyone has any questions regarding the fic or how this particular omegaverse operates, please feel free to shoot me an ask. Also, please note that @snuggleyourredpandas is my main account, so it you see a message reply from them, that's me!

TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @one-simp-more, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I'd have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

#reader insert #bnha reader insert #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader #reader insert angst #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #omegaverse #omega bakugou #alpha reader #multi part fic #denki #fake dating #fake engagement

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Xingqiu - Yandere Profile

I actually just got my sweet bookworm boi to his next to last ascension, my hydro baby, my angel, I love him even if bc of him I have to marathon fight the oceanid

I’ve had a lot of reqs for him & Chongyun dating back to January again lol but it only felt right to wait until I finished both so I could release them at the same time, so, Chongyun’s will be up immediately after this!

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TWs: fem reader, yandere, confinement, manipulative behaviors, mentions of homicide, gaslighting, Xingqiu being a spoiled arrogant brat

TWs (below cut): noncon/dubcon, manipulating and guilting reader into sex, overstimulation, fluids/cumplay, humiliation

Since there's no canonical age but he has a bit of the rounded young face I'm tagging with the sh*ta tw as well!

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 7 Brutality: 3 Physical capability: 4 Mental/emotional instability: 6 Restrictiveness: 7 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Tries to buy his way to you, initially. He's grown up seeing the power that money holds over people, and, well, his father can always just wave a bit around and get whatever he wants from most people, so why should you be any different? He goes for stereotypical "girl" things like flowers and jewelry at first, unless you have some prominent and well-known interest, in which case he'll invest in something related to that.

Honestly, for all his chivalry and all that, his maturity is something of a faux one, a sort of projected self-image of the gentlemanly figure he strives to be... but when he lets that slip, he can be something of a childish spoiled brat. The thing is... he's completely unaware and refuses to acknowledge that he can be so immature. He likes getting what he wants, when he wants it, exactly how he wants it, and being denied the things he wants isn't particularly common in his life. So rejection comes not so much as a disappointment so much as a shock. No matter, you're just... a brat, yourself. You think you're too good for everyone, he reasons, so you play hard to get.

Really, after recovering from the initial shock, he realizes he likes things this way. He likes challenges. It would be no fun if you came to him easily. You may be a brat, but in the end, the one thing he refuses to ever do is lose. Chivalrous gentlemen are fine with having to earn their things, so really, he's thankful that you reminded him of his morals, of his desire to truly earn the things he wants. It will make it that much more meaningful.

So he goes heavy on the idea of "courting", following whatever old and prudish traditions may exist in Liyue. If you're from somewhere else, he figures, that could be why -- clearly he hasn't followed through on whatever is normal for your culture. Silly him. He makes an effort to research whatever those traditions may be, and goes to the absolute maximum on performing them. Lavishes you in gifts of all kinds, constantly giving you compliments. He even goes to the effort of, if all else fails, reading romance novels targeted at women to get a better grasp of what exactly you're supposed to like, and emulates those behaviors.

Overall, though, in later stages Xingqiu slightly more mild for a yan, allowing you to have interactions with others (even if he’s irritated), such as his family, family servants, and his friends, and will even take you outside now and then. However, he will cut off your ties to those friends you had before that weren't mutual friends. He's also one of the least likely yanderes to ever kill someone, and will avoid hurting people if possible -- if anything, he prefers more discreet methods like ruining their life socially or financially.

He's also a lot more moody behind closed doors than he is to most people. His attempts to be oh-so-mature eventually kinda crumble, and the more comfortable he becomes around you, the more he lets his immaturity show.

He could assign family servants to looking for you, but really, he prefers to do it himself, this is about love after all, he doesn't want to assign them to a task they would never perform as diligently as he could. But rather than stalking, he chooses to just kind of... stay with you. He's somehow always where you are, "coincidentally" running into you everywhere and then somehow nothing having anything to do, because he clings to you for hours until you finally have to go home, and even then, he'll just follow you to continue the visit there if he can. No point in watching from a distance when he can be right there with you. And again, he's actually surprisingly unaware that his clinginess is so obvious, he's oblivious to how obvious his infatuation is. Which is a bit odd, considering that he's usually fairly perceptive, but he's so confident in the fact that he is normally perceptive that he allows himself to slip into abnormal behaviors without really realizing it, because he's not constantly on guard in the way some less socially adept yanderes are.

On a genuinely sweet level, there's one little thing he keeps hidden from you. He's actually written a lot of love poetry for you, verses about you and all of the things he loves about you so much... Despite usually being fairly confident in his work, he can't bring himself to show it to you. He's too flustered. And considering your negative reactions to his affection (read: not wanting to be kept like a captive animal), he is actually a bit sensitive to that perceived rejection, which further discourages him. He keeps them all stashed away, stuffed into some fairly hidden drawer. Should you ever come across them and bring them up, it's one of a very few things that will genuinely make him super embarrassed, and he'll just insist they weren't about you, even though the details make it obvious they were, and storm off, never bringing it up again.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It's not kidnapping. It's... relocating. He's far too chivalrous to resort to something so brutish as kidnapping! He'll make sure you want to come with him. He can easily arrange for there to be rumors and reports of... occurrences near your home. Criminal activity, maybe false rumors of mysterious disappearances. Hell, he'll get Chongyun to testify that your house has demonic spirits in it. Something to make you want to move out. Maybe some things start happening to you -- you get the feeling you're being watched, you get threatening messages mailed to your home, you have strangers (read: randos who will do anything for some mora he gives them) telling you you're not welcome in the area and to get out. It's all incredibly confusing and scary and you have no idea what brought it all on!

Luckily for you, you have a rich, generous friend who makes it more than clear you're welcome to come stay with him for a while at any time. Eventually, no matter what it takes, he can push you to a point where you'll take him up on that offer. Something feels... oddly ominous about the way the gates to his family estate close behind you once you walk in. Like they're sealing your fate.

And once step one is done, step two of his plan goes into place - make sure you never want to leave. He can make that happen, there's plenty of space here for you to roam, plenty for you to do, and even when he's not there to entertain you, there's plenty of servants to keep an eye on you and make sure that whenever you try to leave, they'll smile and tell you you can't go just yet miss, there's this or that going on tonight! The young master said he had something important for you when he gets back later! You can't go out now, there was just an attack by some deranged person in the town still on the loose! Just... go back inside for now.

Of course, it's wishful thinking, but he likes to maintain the delusion that he can just keep this going indefinitely, that you won't finally one day put your foot down and tell him you've been stuck here nearly a month and you're ready to at least go visit home. He might even entertain it a bit - sure, you can go visit your old house with him and collect some of your old things to bring back with you, but he makes sure to make it look at though whatever problem he made up is still occurring. Nonetheless, if you're insistent, or at whatever point you finally crack and catch on, demand to know what's going on - well, it's not pretty. He gets into something of a tantrum if you don't comply, but ultimately, in his own little huffy, ticked off way, says you can't leave, and that's that, no more questions allowed, and no more of this ridiculous demand to leave. Of course, darling is taken aback at first, even thinking he's joking, but it soon becomes very clear he's completely serious, and intends to enforce that command.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

When he's with you, he's tends to be pretty clingy, both physically and in conversation, never ceasing talking about this or that, and he's actually a sleep-clinger as well, keeping an iron grip around your waist when you sleep. So, whenever he's at his home, he insists on you being in his presence, usually physically touching, so you won't really get an opportunity while he's just in another room or something because you can't get any privacy to begin with. When you're in public, he's incredibly watchful over your every move and incredibly clingy then as well, so don't expect such a chance to arrive either.

Thus, your best bet is to try when you're under the watch of guards, whenever he's gone for whatever reason. They've been instructed to watch you from a distance, you see, he doesn't want them interacting with you directly, so you'll have a few chances here or there where they get distracted or their backs are turned. There will likely eventually also be a time where there's a scheduling error, you end up unsupervised! However, physically getting out of the estate is still difficult. There's still posted guards everywhere. So all in all, it's fairly difficult, especially in broad daylight, the only time he's not with you.

When you're inevitably dragged back kicking and screaming by some poor guards that aren't getting paid enough to deal with this, after getting back and hearing the report he deals with it in that unnerving saccharine way of feigning ignorance to try and get a reaction. Now, he knows you weren't trying to get out... right? Surely you got distracted by a bird or something, right? That's the only reason why you'd ever try to leave, right? It's obvious he knows better, and is just fucking with your head, but it's best not to lie. What he wants is an admittance of guilt and an apology, preferably down on the floor begging for forgiveness.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Moderate, leaning towards difficult. He's perceptive, and intelligent, but that intelligence is largely a sort of book-smarts type of intelligence. He's generally crafty and a prankster himself, so pulling things over on him is difficult because he's familiar with the mindset and methods of doing so, but he can be tricked if you put on a believable enough act. Basically, a darling who is a good actor stands a much better chance.

However, he's ultimately a learner. You can get away with some tricks or plots once, but he won't fall for the same thing twice. Any sort of escape or deceit you've tried once, he'll make active efforts to guard against and prevent in the future.

Manipulation, though, you can forget it. He's way too proud and stubborn to be emotionally manipulated, in the end getting his way and what he wants takes priority over making you happy, so don't expect to be able to manipulate him based on the notion of something making you happier.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Fairly lenient, actually. You get a lot of access so long as your behavior is good, so really it's wise to be on your best behavior in the long term of things. He can get you anything you want, especially reading material. And you actually get to go outside, yay! He's like my earlier Childe profile on that -- he likes to go on dates, and he's actually really enthusiastic about it! He's big on date planning, wanting to see everything there is to see and do everything there is to do together. The rules are that you just need to be physically attached to him in some way -- you can hold his hand, grab at his sleeves, or he can do so to you (although he'd prefer you cling to him. He likes the image it projects to people around you). He actually gets really hyped about said dates whenever you plan them, he'll talk to you for hours plotting out all the things to do on this particular outing. At one point, his smile drops and his voice goes low and he tells you that, just a reminder, you know the rules for dates, right? ...Good.

Similarly, if you ask, he'll let you accompany him on more trivial outings as well, say if you'd like to go grocery shopping, and he certainly won't turn down a trip to the bookstore. The same rules apply, although he's a bit less excited for something so mundane.

One thing he won't do, surprisingly, is let you have anything to do with Guhua arts or skills. He won't teach you anything he knows nor let you learn, and if you were a follower of it before, he'll cut off your access to any material. His reasoning is that he just doesn't really think anything to do with combat suits you. You're better off learning more passive skills and hobbies.

In reality? He can't stand the thought of you ever being able to present a challenge to him in that sense. It would kill his ego if you ever managed to do something related to the Guhua arts better than he can, or even half as good as he can.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Well, to occupy your time, he has things that need cleaning you know... Honestly, he's messy, and he's already used to having maids, so he kinda treats you like one to some degree. Of course, he's active in his little heroism adventures, but when it comes to his own living spaces and such things he can be a bit lazy. So, he'll give you tasks to do sometimes, he likes the power rush too that he gets from ordering you around a bit. It soothes the ego.

Outside of your strolls together, you can't be going outside (and you don't get to choose when you do go on your little walks and dates, he does, although he may grant you the wishes of your begging). Also, don't actually try to talk to the guards. They're there to watch you, nothing more, so pay them no mind, and by no means should you ever have a reason to make conversation with them. If there's an emergency or something you need, you may inform them and get help, nothing more. And really, they're more afraid of this rule than you are -- you'll have difficulty finding one even willing to talk to you, they all take the warnings they've been given very seriously.

He eventually gets nitpicky and makes all sorts of little behavioral rules, it's incredibly obnoxious. But honestly, suffering his bratty tantrums is enough of a punishment, even if he didn't usually follow it up with actual punishment, which, for him, tends to be something perverted in some way.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

He actually gets jealous rather easily, often over people who are no real threat. You can never be too nice to anyone -- even after he introduces you to his father and older brother, he expects you to be happy to meet them... but not that much. If you show too much excitement or happiness over any other being, he gets pouty, especially other men, but also your friends, male or female, family, even animals. His first reaction isn't to kill, rather, just an increase in isolation. Drag you back home and make sure you get a lot of time to yourselves, seeks reassurance that you really love him. If it's his own family, he might get grouchy towards them, snap at them a bit, bitterly drag you back off to your own room, where he'll then proceed to get equally grouchy towards you until you have given him enough reassurance he deems sufficient. In his own time, when you're not around, he makes sure to make it perfectly clear to those around him that they aren't to get in between you two.

He's one of the better yans to have in this regard, though, because he's unlikely to resort to killing anyone. He's got too much of his self-image invested in the idea of morals and justice to be able to do so, he can't delude himself into believing it's right or acceptable. It's not impossible to push him to that point, but it wouldn't just be someone you show any positive reception towards -- if Xingqiu did end up killing a rival, it would have to be one for whom you have very blatantly made clear you have actual romantic and sexual affection, someone who poses a genuine, real threat.

Xingqiu is a sort of open book when it comes to jealousy -- it's obvious to everyone around you that he's mad at someone else for even looking at you, and he doesn't try to hide it. It makes him that much angrier if someone doesn't obey his silent demand to stop interacting with you, doesn't seem fazed by his glares and coldness. He'll meet with them privately and make things clear verbally, since he tells himself maybe they're just dense and too stupid to understand. But they only get one more chance. Cross him twice, and they'll likely find themselves in financial ruin after pulling some strings through the connections of his father and brother.

What would make him significantly more likely to kill someone is someone who poses a legal threat, someone who catches on to what's going on and threatens to get him in serious trouble for it. Even if he tried bribing them, well, they'd likely just pretend to accept, and someone so bold likely wouldn't bow to threats.

This is where he can slip into the mindset of a delusional yandere. He once again projects the image in his head, that knight he wants to be for you, and hey, sometimes to save the princess, the heroes in his martial arts epics have to get their hands dirty, have to unfortunately get blood on their hands for the sake of the greater good. And hey, then it's usually called character development. Most of his fictional heroes tend to have killed at least one person in a sort of epic battle to defend something precious to them. This is no different. Of course, ambushing an unarmed person and running them through hardly counts as an epic battle, but he doesn't really take that part into account.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Again, a bit of a spoiled brat at times. He's pouty, gives you the cold shoulder, yet dramatically inserts himself in front of you and whatever you're occupied with so you can't do anything. Basically he's forcing you to acknowledge his pouting and ask him what's wrong so that he can pull the "oh, nothing" until you ask again, and maybe he'll eventually bitterly, passive-aggressively make it clear what you did wrong. The bright side is he's easily soothed - an apology and some groveling will fix his attitude pretty quickly, although he'll have an infuriating air of superiority about it all, telling you he's glad you were able to understand what you did and have, hopefully, learned to correct the behavior in the future.

Worse offenses, things that make him genuinely and truly infuriated, are significantly worse, but rather uncharacteristically for him, he's quiet. And that's what's do frightening about it - for once you almost wish he would blabber or complain or whine like you're so used to, but his fury is dead silent. He moves without speaking, harsh motions that will either shove or tug you to wherever he's trying to maneuver you, and he shows how he feels through actions rather than words - he slams doors and objects, stomps, everything about his body language is frightening enough to make you stiffen and jolt.

Thankfully, Xingqiu is a milder yandere when it comes to severity of things he'll do to you in moments of anger -- he's one that can control himself well enough not to severely hurt you, break bones or anything like that. When it comes to his flashes of anger, at worst he might slap you in his tantrums, but he has at least enough self-control and empathy for you to manage better than a lot of yanderes.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Below. It's mostly that he thinks rather highly of himself - he's an important person you know. He saves people, he goes around doing his little vigilante thing, and he's not afraid to flaunt sometimes.

If you happen to also be from a rich family, you can earn a little bit more respect from him, you're cultured and sophisticated. If you're intelligent, you can get some validity in his mind as well. He'll still consider himself more intelligent and higher status, something you'd be mindful to remember, but he'll begrudgingly acknowledge it.

A commoner darling, though? God forbid an airheaded one? Forget about getting any respect - you're more like... A cute little puppy to him. Dumb and loud and clumsy, but nonetheless very cute and loveable. You were just... Made to be something of an accessory to him. And he loves and values you, you mean the world to him really, but that's all the more reason why you should accept your place as such.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

It drives him up the wall. You know, his father could arrange his marriage to a ton of young rich daughters in Liyue who would be more than happy about it, but he can't get the attention of ONE girl he likes? It's infuriating. And it makes him all the more insistent to have specifically you.

For Xingqiu, it's a mix of both desperation and a pride thing as well. One one hand he desperately does truly want his feelings to be returned, he wants you to love him, he wants the fantasy he has in his head of you two having a long, happy future together. On the other hand, rejection is also a mark on his pride, and that irritates him beyond comprehension.

So don't expect him to ever give up, really. Unlike a lot of loving yans though, he doesn't blame himself, he directs the rejection hurt outward - maybe you're just so spoiled yourself that nothing is good enough for you. Maybe you're just playing hard to get. Maybe you just think constantly turning him down is funny, it's amusing to you, and, well, he doesn't take lightly to you trying to play games with him. So while he'll continue to try and earn your love, don't be surprised if it results in an irritated mood swing every now and then.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

A lack of desire/hesitancy to resort to violence or more morally wayward methods. He stakes a lot of his pride and self-image on being a chivalrous, upright, just person, someone who should exemplify right and punish wrong, and unfortunately for him he's not a delusional and can't convince himself that he's doing the right thing. He wants to be a gentleman, your knight in shining armor, the storybook hero he projects in his head that always comes to save his princess, who in turn is receptive and showers him in praise and affection and gratitude. You're the problem, you see, you're not following through on your role in all this.

As such, he really, really hates having to dirty his hands in any way, or do anything that he knows is wrong and will consequently drag him into guilt. Not that he can't be driven to it, because he certainly can, but if it reaches that point, that means you didn't cooperate with him to begin with, which would have made things so much easier, so he'll definitely rid himself of that guilt by redirecting the blame to you, or deluding himself into some bizarre justification.

Another thing... his family's compliance. Honestly? His dad is far too busy and far too done with Xingqiu's shit to expect any help from him. His son tends to be picky, whiny, and demanding -- now that you're here, he's finally satiated, finally actually paying attention to the important matters his father wants him to be involved with, finally not causing nearly as much trouble now that you're around. You can bet he's more than happy to put in some extra funds and personnel to restrain some random commoner, so long as his son is satisfied. His brother doesn't really agree with it all, but his brother wants this and his father is supporting it, so... his hands are tied. He turns a blind eye. And the staff, the servants? They're getting paid far too much to care, and besides, the family is incredibly influential -- should they get fired, it could smear their reputation. It’s kinda really discouraging, being surrounded by so many people, but none of them willing to help you.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Bounces back and forth. On one hand, he wants to maintain, again, a gentlemanly and sophisticated image, and in his mind, such people don't normally think about such things, don't behave in lewd or degenerate ways. On the other hand, he's a nasty little perv that secretly sinks to the absolute depths of depravity. There's not much he can't get off to. If his poor brother hadn't been so busy being concerned about the martial arts books under his bed, and had dug further, he would have found that those books are actually just a cover-up for a different set of nasty, gross materials he's spent years accumulating -- some of the most vulgar smut you've ever seen, stuff you question how he ever even got ahold of. Surely the book house wouldn't sell this kind of material... it's honestly a mystery how he manages to get so much.

With his first few interactions, he tends to display the former image, but the more time he spends with anyone, the more that inner little pervert side tends to come out. He's definitely one to get touchy, his light grazing little touches become firmer and more daring, his hands always rest just at a point that's right on the boundary of being inappropriate. Sometimes he'll straight-up grope you and pass it off as teasing. He's also like Kaeya in that he intentionally tries to embarrass you by making your mind go to lewd places, making obvious innuendos and euphemisms, then pretending like he doesn't know why you're looking at him like that... oh, is that what you thought he meant? Wow, you must have such a dirty mind, you little pervert.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Something like rape is barbaric! Of course he would never, eeeeever do something so awful, so unbecoming of someone like him. And he really never will. He's another yan that will simply... Secure your consent by whatever means necessary.

In the end he'll most likely guilt trip and gaslight his way into it. I mean, you're staying with him for free, he took you in, he feeds you and clothes you and you can't show one little bit of gratitude? He treats you like a wife and you can't fulfil your end of that role? Don't be selfish. He loves you so much... He'd do anything for you... don't you want him to be happy too?

He'll try different approaches. If seduction doesn't work off the bat, he'll try gaslighting, if that doesn't work, he'll try guilt tripping, if that doesn't work, he'll make up a bizarre lie - he has to have sex or he'll die, somehow! You get the idea. If you really, really, really push it, he may just resort to a vague threat of sorts - nothing too bad or deadly, but hey, it would sure be a shame if this recent market crash affected your family financially... Not that he knows anyone who has power over the local commerce or anything.

With a more timid, soft darling, you're likely to end up essentially... Dubcon'ed. Half-noncon'ed. He just kinda... Slowly goes for it, and at your protests insists no, it's ok, you'll feel good... And a timid darling too afraid to stop him doesn't exactly fight back or resist, so hey, silence is a green light.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Experimentation

As I've said, he's a nasty little perv deep down, and he can get off to, well, a LOT of things. And he loves to try new things out, no matter how weird it may be. He's one you can get into a lot of things involving toys and objects, or physical forms of things applied to the body (think temperature play, hot wax, nipple clamps -- anything that has to do with objects being used on you). Part of the fun of it all is having something new that he's never tried before! Even if it turns out to not be his favorite thing, he'll still enjoy the trying it out, and those things he DOES find himself liking, well, he'll just have to add them to the little mental list of favorites.

And he, honestly, enjoys the little reactions you often have to the notions of this or that -- the shock and sudden fear on your face when he tells you today you'll do this or that, and how you shake your cute little head so rapidly. It's not that bad, he promises, and he's done a lot of research and reading to be sure he does things correctly, so no worries!

Body writing

It's kinda comical because you can't make out a word. With his canonically horrendous handwriting, but fondness for the act of writing, it makes for what essentially looks to you like abstract art on your body -- but just know it's the lewdest, most degrading shit you can think of that he'll get all over your thighs and stomach, marking you as his. If nothing else, he gets off to it, and based on the little things he whispers in your ear, you know it's the same sort of humiliating things. If he takes his time, he can write better, but he gets caught up in the heat of the moment.

Lingerie

He's a fan of lacey, frilly things. And he will definitely invest in as many as he can buy, ornate and intricate things, stockings for your legs that have pretty lace patterns at the top of the thigh, bras and panties that are somehow both lacey and perfectly see-through. He's also a big fan of things that have holes in them for easy access, so you can wear it the whole time. And, if he's feeling meaner, he'll definitely have you walk around in just that for a while -- not out where anyone else in the estate could see you, of course, but in his room with him.

Master/slave

He's not a sadist per se, and doesn't really put you in pain, but he loves your submission. And no better way to exemplify submission than with service. The little bastard already makes you act like a maid outside of bed, but now he likes it even more -- there's a certain rush of power to laying out a command and seeing you follow it. Not to mention the cute look on your warm face as you follow though with the degrading shit. Oh, and you'd better believe he gets humiliating. It's not necessarily degrading in the sense that he says or makes you say bad things about yourself, but rather, just the commands themselves, getting on your hands and knees and crawling over to him, and demanding you slowly strip down. Make it cute, give him a show, you know? He won't be cruel in the things he says about you, yet your pride is still wrecked by the end of it all.

Voyeurism/masturbation instruction

He loves to watch you get off, honestly. It ties into the slave thing to a degree, making you follow every little command, telling you exactly how to touch yourself and move your hands. He'll sigh and tell you no, you're going to fast, you can't do it that fast yet... and if you get too overexcited, he'll just have to make you stop, since you can't seem to listen, and maybe not get to cum until tomorrow, so you can learn to behave better about it next time.

Fluids/Cumplay

He has something of a fixation with all kinds. He loves seeing the trail of saliva from your mouth when you pull off his dick, the way cum drips out of you and runs down your thighs. He also likes seeing it splattered across your face, your chest, in your hair, something about the sight of it nearly has him hard immediately after and ready to go. But he also likes how it will gross you out, leaving you tied up so that you can't wipe it off, are forced to just stay there with it dripping out of your holes and down your skin in a way that makes you shiver. And, really, he loves your fluids too, sweet salty slick that's just so mesmerizing to watch coat his fingers and face. But his favorite thing, probably has to be running his fingers through your own juices and slick, collecting it on his fingers, holding it up to your mouth and telling you to suck them clean. Somehow, it's even hotter when you're licking your own fluids off of his fingers, although you doing so with his is certainly nice too.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’d like an heir one day. He's one to want a kid, maybe two, but not a whole lot. Just enough to have a proper family structure, much like the family he was raised in. It's the proper thing to do, he thinks, a natural part of the social order and continuation of a legacy. As a natural extension of his spoiled brat tendencies, he often doesn't think very responsibly in regards to preventing children, so, lucky for him, that ideal will likely come to fruition eventually, if physically possible.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Absolutely uses overstimulation. Whatever sorts of toys exist in Teyvat, he's rich enough that he can easily obtain them - little things he can attach to you and leave buzzing, or thick plugs and internal toys to stuff you full and leave you there to suffer in stimulation and stretching for hours on end. And he doesn't leave you alone, no, he stays close by, leaving you tied up and blindfolded, the occasionally lazy checkup of "oh, how are you holding up over there? I almost totally forgot you were there!" in a mocking tone while he goes about reading his books or practicing or jerking off to the sight.

Also ruined orgasms. Ugh, he's the worst. Gets you right to your peak, likely also after hours of edging, and then just... stops. Right as you reach the high, stops all motion, leaves you whimpering and sobbing, it's literally painful to actually reach it, and then still have that orgasm taken from you. And he'll be sure to remind you that if you were good, you could experience it in full, he could make you feel so good and let you ride out that high... but so long as you insist on being such a stubborn little princess, unfortunately, he can't just give you that. He hates this too, you know, he says. He'd love nothing more than to share pleasure, but you insist on being difficult.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Legs and thighs. He likes the aesthetics of legs, the softness, the way the flesh feels in his hands. The way touching them can make you jolt, the sensitivity, the way they leave little marks so perfectly if he sucks and bites at the skin. It's just really pretty.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere xingqiu #yandere x y/n #tw: noncon #tw: dark content #tw:shota

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skyeee · 2 years

Note

oooh please speak. share the juicy story

Well, so far I have that Julchen and Arthur are a couple living in a nice flat from Arthur’s job as a publishing executive. One day Amelia moves in, introduces herself with a home-baked apple pie to Arthur who is very hesitant. This woman in front of him makes him pause— she’s literally his dream woman that he had in mind years ago, before settling down with Julchen (who is decidedly not the type of girl Arthur imagined being with, but hey she’s got some fun edge AND she’s a cleanaholic. Win-win.)

(rest under the cut)

He knows Amelia’s bad news, and so he starts to narrowly avoid her in the halls and lobby. Meanwhile, Julchen is growing increasingly upset and annoyed with Arthur, who is falling back on Julchen’s cleaning obsession with an “eh, she’ll clean it up eventually” mentality. Leaving Julchen to do much more work around the house, and not allowing her a real job. (God knows why they don’t just hire a maid. Maybe Arthur knows that would ALSO be bad news. Rumor has it he has a thing for maids and governesses…) Imagine Jules, cleaning up a puddle outside the shower, glaring at Arthur who was the one to put it there, and neglecting to clean up after himself in the first place. Not a happy couple right now.

And so blooms the animosity. With Julchen’s growing irritation and nagging, Arthur finds himself hiding out at the local library reading pretentious (and dirty) novels to pass the time and delay his inevitable return home. There he runs into Amelia, arms full of children’s books she’s taking to the school she works at as a preschool teacher. In typical American fashion, she strikes up a conversation with her neighbor. At first, he’s standoffish. Trying hard to avoid any contact. But then she mentions watching oldie films, and he’s reeled in. The conversation progresses from casual “what’s your favorite film?” talk to Amelia pushing him to pick up ballroom dancing again, at a local dance clinic she attends. He declines, realizing he’s already in too deep with her, and promptly leaves.

In lieu of a “real” job, Julchen takes up game streaming, adding to their shared bank account with donations from randos who watch her stream. Arthur is already disgruntled by this, not liking that any random man could ogle his girlfriend online. He’s a bit (ironically) jealous. He chides her: “why don’t you get a job that helps society? Like a teacher?” And she just replies, “Me? A teacher? Have you met me??” He’s already starting to compare her to this new American in his life.

With that, he tells Amelia he’s ready to sign up for those dance classes. And they’re a force to be reckoned with. Other students start to think that they’re a couple with the way they’re so in sync while dancing and because they always come and go together. Arthur has also taken to calling her small Britishisms like “pet” and “love”. His initial annoyance with her has completely vanished. They fit into the perfect image Arthur always wanted for himself. Jules has always been so abrasive and never romantic but Amelia is the opposite. By the time they're six weeks into their course, he is convinced he is in love with her.

In a small turn of events, Amelia mentions she won’t be able to continue their lessons due to it not fitting into her teacher's salary. This being his refuge and coping mechanism for his turbulent home life, he immediately offers to pay for her classes. They’ve also taken to interlocking fingers when it gets cold on walks to and from the studio.

Soon enough, the funding turns into buying her things like lunch, lessons, clothes, and trinkets. The man is her wallet. She’s taken to attack hugging him whenever possible, and he’s taken to lingering a bit longer with his hands at her waist. He relishes the feeling of her against his chest.

But of course, with a shared bank account, things are bound to be noticed eventually. And Julchen isn’t dumb. She immediately notices this sudden dent in their funds from… lunches (she thought Arthur hated pizza, and yet there he was once a week going to the local pizzeria), clothes that she’s never seen the likes of, dance lessons that are seemingly out of the blue and out of character for him. She’s rightfully suspicious.

…And petty. In response to this, she figures, hey, if he’s spending all this money on frivolity, then so can I. And so a new gaming setup and some cute streaming outfits are ordered. Seeing this huge lump sum of money withdrawn from their account, Arthur is LIVID. He confronts her about it, and in the process, insults her line of work. Julchen responds by insinuating she’s doing something behind her back with his purchases, that actually rack up to much more than she spent in one go. But he’s good at ignoring criticisms of himself, and the argument ends in a stalemate, with Julchen going back to streaming and Arthur not speaking to her the rest of the night.

Later that night, Jules — carrying the sinking feeling he’s up to no good— attempts to appeal to him by recounting how they first met. Arthur had found her in a train station, newly immigrated from Germany and surrounded by strewn luggage after tripping on the stairs. He had helped her and invited her for tea. The rest if history. Jules succeeds in getting his favor, even just for a moment. This is the warmest he’s felt towards her in months.

This is the part of the story I haven’t really gone any further with. I’ll let you know how it develops when my friend and I get around to brainstorming the rest. In my vision, Arthur falls prey to a gold digger, and in the process, completely ruins his long-term relationship with Jules, all because he fell in love with his so-called “dream girl”, who in actuality was just bleeding him dry of his money. In the end, he loses both of them. Haven’t figured out how or why yet tho.

#ayooo this got long #my bad #skye speaks

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seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

Beta

(This is a Yandere Alpha N’Doul x Beta Female Reader! I hope you guys enjoy this :))

TW: !Noncon/Dubcon!, no stand au, sexual harassment (from the big man himself, Dio), mentions of disability(blindness)!, mentions of organised crime!, mentions of violence!, !knotting!, breeding kink!, you have no rights even as a Beta :((, !Alpha kink, !slight scent kink, !slight body horror at the end but nothing explicit!, etc..)

When you accepted the role as a caregiver, you assumed that the man you were going to watch after was normal. After all, the man was rumoured to have a trust fund, and you assumed that he was rich from old money.

How wrong you had been.

How would you have known that the man you’re helping is in one of the most feared mafia’s in the world?

You’d found this out by accident. He’d asked you to bring an expensive wine for him and a ‘friend,’ but when you walked in, you saw his ‘friend’ sprawled out on the floor, dead. That’s when he used his ‘Alpha Voice’ on you for the first time. He demanded you move into his estate, because he couldn’t risk you being a snitch.

The ultimatum was to move in, or die, and by God, you weren’t going to die.

“If you weren’t a Beta, I’d have stolen you away a long time ago,” Your hands shake slightly when you pour an expensive scotch into the blond Alpha’s cup. You’d always been sensitive to an Alpha’s scent or words, and this man’s smell is overwhelming.

“Thank you, Mister Brando, but I’m sure my boss wouldn’t like that,” You chuckle nervously, as you swiftly move away from his large form. Taking a small glance towards N’Doul, you see an impassive look on his well-sculpted face. He’s used to his boss’ crude words towards you, but the annoyed pheromone in his scent is very apparent.

“Of course he wouldn’t, you’re one of the few useful servants here,” He swishes the amber liquid around in his cup, the ice clinking against the glass making you flinch, “But, I have a proposition for you that I know you can’t refuse; you smell very… enchanting for a mere Beta. This is a known fact. The only differences between you and an Omega is that you’re level-headed and less annoying. That means that you’ll make a very good mate for one of my most trusted men,” By this time, you’d made your way to your boss, and were in the middle of pouring him a glass of a strong smelling bourbon. The blond Alpha’s words make your blood run cold, and you quickly stop pouring N’Doul his drink in fear of your shaking causing a spill. Dio’s golden eyes flash in amusement, “Why do you seem so surprised, Beta? You’ve been faithful to us for quite some time now, and I believe you deserve some comfort. If you marry him, you’ll live a lavish life. The only thing you must do for us, besides giving us unwavering loyalty, is bear him many children. The mafia needs a future generation, after all.”

You gasp in disbelief, your free hand covering your gawking mouth. He can’t be serious. You weren’t born into a mafia family, you weren’t rich, you aren’t good on the field, etc., why would he want you to marry one of his high ranking men?

“I, uhm, I’m flattered that you’d offer me such an amazing, uhm, opportunity, but I don’t think I can up and leave my boss. I’ve helped him for about two years, so it might not be very good for him-” N’Doul suddenly grabs your right wrist, scaring you half to death. You almost drop the bourbon bottle in your left hand, but luckily regain your hold on it.

“She’s right, Master Dio, I still need her assistance in my manor. She helps me write my paperwork, reads off important messages, and assists with many other equally as important tasks. It would be quite hard for me to find someone who is as trusted and reliable as she is,” He slowly releases his hold on you, gently squeezing your right hand’s fingers. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, Dio looks positively pleased with himself, while your boss looks in his general direction with an unamused expression.

“Are you both sure that you want to miss out on this opportunity? I didn’t even say the Alpha’s name yet,” The both of you vehemently nod, you because you don’t want to marry some rando to become a baby factory, and your boss because he can’t bear the thought of you being mated to someone else. “I see, what a shame. I was actually going to offer her to you, N’Doul, but I guess she can continue to be your servant if you want,” The dark haired Alpha’s scent turns sour, making you gulp in both fear and confusion.

“Master Dio, what are you implying?”

“You want to marry her, don't you? Your sweet Beta always takes care of you, she’s willing to do anything to make you comfortable,” Oh God, Dio thinks you’re in love with your boss, “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the change of your scent when she walks into the room, or how you treat her so kindly. The N’Doul I know wouldn’t have hesitated to kill someone if they found out his secret, yet you spared her without a second thought. It seems that the both of you have found your match,” He throws his drink back, finishing it with a single swig, “But, if you still don’t wish to marry, I understand-”

“Please don’t play with my feelings,” Your boss stands to his feet, his scent now overwhelmingly angry, “Of course I’d want to marry her, is that really a question you must ask?” Dio smirks at his uncharacteristic anger.

“Oh, is that so? Then I suppose I will allow it,” He stands to his feet as well, easily towering over the both of you, “Now that that’s settled-”

“Wait! I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but don’t I get a say in this?” N’Doul, who is closest to you, tries to reach out for you again, but you easily dodge his hand, “I’m sorry Master N’Doul, but I don’t want to marry you. I also don’t want any children, and I don’t want any direct involvement with the mafia. I’m fine helping you out around the house and doing my job, but I don’t want anything besides a professional relationship,” It’s quiet for a long moment, a look of hurt flashing over your boss’ face, along with an upset smell permeating the room, before Dio begins to laugh.

“Oh my, it’s so adorable that you think you have a choice. Did you forget that even though you’re not an Omega, the law still views you as lesser to an Alpha? For once, we’d be following the law in making you submit to your Alpha,” The blond rounds the left side of the table, heading straight towards you. In a panic, you try to move to your right to round the table and run for the door, but you run into your boss.

Instead of being thrown off kilter like usual, he stands firm. His arms wrap around your middle, forcing you up against him. You think that he’s surprisingly well built for a man who needs your help 24/7, and that’s when you realise that you’re just a cover. The police know that you work for him, and whenever they’ve questioned you, you’ve always said the same thing; he has no sense of balance, he needs your help to get around the house, etc.. But, looking at the situation at hand, it’s clear that he’s never needed you for anything besides his mafia paperwork.

“I think she’s figured it out N’Doul,” The scary Alpha is now before you, staring down at you with a shit-eating grin, “Though, that doesn’t matter. What matters now is that you listen to me well,” Oh no, “You’re going to marry him, whether you want to or not. You will give him as many pups as he wants, or else you’ll be punished. If you try to escape, you will be punished. Do you understand me?” He’s used his Alpha voice on you. Normally this wouldn’t phase a Beta, but you were no normal Beta.

Against your better judgement, you nod, saying a very forced, “Yes, Alpha,”

“Good. His rut will begin in a few days. When that happens, you will service him as an Omega would. I will give you some heat inducing pills, and you will take them the moment his rut begins,” You stare at the ground with a frown, and nod.

“Okay… but how will they work? I’m not an Omega-” N’Doul’s hold tightens around your ribs exponentially, making you wheeze.

“Don’t act too rash,” He scolds the dark haired Alpha, “That’s an excellent question, Beta,” You flinch at his words, and freeze in fear when he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “There are many drugs on the market that can trigger a reaction from your kind. Many Alphas find it fun to break a Beta down into a gushing, cock or pussy hungry whore. You, my dear, are going to be my dear friends’ mate, which means you need to be ready for a long and hard week. If you aren’t you’ll surely die of exhaustion,” N’Doul growls at that, causing Dio to shush him softly, “So, to stop that, you’re going to go into heat as well. It’s as simple as that.”

His words are calming ones, trying to lull you into a false sense of security. But, you know better. You know that both men can kill you easily, you know that your boss could give you up, ending with you becoming a sex slave. So, to save your own skin, you give in.

“Okay. I understand.”

The next few days are a whirlwind of emotion. Because his cover has now been blown, N’Doul refuses your help with any task besides paperwork. Turns out, he’s very high functioning, and he is able to count his steps to-and-fro, and is also able to do things like cooking without your help.

Ever since that day with Dio, he’s been trying to make it up to you. He’ll make you your favourite food, dress you in pretty dresses, help you shower, etc.. It’s honestly suffocating, but whenever you try to distance yourself, one of his few servants will detain you, only to return you back to the patient Alpha.

The day before his scheduled rut, one of the female servants took it upon herself to wax your entire body. Unfortunately for you, she’s a very old fashioned Alpha, and she had no qualms in using her Alpha voice against you. So, she sat you down on the edge of a large jacuzzi like bath tub, and went to town. When your soon to be mate called for you, it’d taken all of your power to walk down the stairs without falling flat on your face. He’d known something was wrong, because your smell wasn’t as lovely as usual, and the way you walked sounded completely different than normal. You didn’t bother lying to him, and to say he was pissed was an understatement.

A low growl draws you from your thoughts, along with the heavy smell of arousal trailing from N’Doul’s quarters. Sighing in dread, you head towards your dresser, grabbing the pills Dio gave you from a small unused jewelry box. Chucking them into your mouth, you unscrew the cap of your water bottle and take a large swig, swallowing down the aphrodisiac you are forced to take.

Shuffling towards your door, you hear the male’s groaning grow loader. Is he outside your door? Grabbing the cool doorknob, you practically throw the door open, expecting to see him kneeling outside. When the hallway is exposed, there’s no one there. Sticking your head outside, you check to see if he was farther down the hall. Nope. It’s empty.

You see his room a few doors down, and realise he’s just that noisy.

Straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, you trudge towards his abode. Knocking lightly on the door, you call out to him, “A-are you okay in there?” All noises cease, leaving you in suspense. Putting your ear against the door, you try to listen in to see if he dropped dead or if he was walking towards the door. You hear nothing, and prepare to pull away, only for the door to open, making you fall forward. Two warm arms catch you with a quickness, before you’re dragged into the dark room, and tossed onto a very comfortable bed.

You bounce once you hit the mattress, only to be pinned down in an instant. He noses your throat, ghosting over your scent glands. His tongue laps at your neck greedily, trying to taste your skin on his tongue. N’Doul’s large, Rough hands grope at the fat of your hips, trailing up to your breasts. He seems to be trying to get a reaction out of you, but all you do is cringe.

The pills haven’t fully kicked in yet, so you’re very uncomfortable under the rough treatment the Alpha is giving you. Noticing this, he growls in annoyance, “Don’t act shy, Darling. I’ll make you feel good if you make me feel good,” Did he truly mistake your discomfort for timidity?

“I, uhm,” He silences you with a heated kiss, both of your spit mixing together, much to your disgust. His fingers pull and prod at your blouse covered nipples, twisting slightly to elicit a reaction. A gasp leaves your lips, as you try to remove his hands. The medicine was slowly, but surely starting to work, making your breasts more sensitive than usual.

He grips the material of your shirt with two fingers, a small snarl coming from his lips, “I want this off. If you want to keep it, you better strip fast,” You practically throw your shirt over your head, moving as fast as you can. Your best friend had given you his shirt years ago, and you’ve used it as a sleep shirt ever since.

A small smile decorates his harsh features, as he is finally able to feel your skin against his. He squeezes your breasts, loving the feeling of your fat between your fingers. You try not to look, hoping to zone out the entire session, but the rapid heat appearing in your tummy is making it very hard to do so.

“I can’t wait until these are filled with milk, your Alpha might have to have a taste for himself,�� A gasp leaves your lips at his erotic words, especially when his lips connect with your right nipple. He suckles on it like a child, whilst toying with the hem of your panties. With one swift movement, he shucks them down your legs without separating from your chest.

A loud moan escapes your throat, as he starts to toy with your puffy pussy. The waxing from the night before makes you more sensitive than normal, eliciting all the right reactions. He removes himself from your chest, bringing your panties to his nose, breathing in your slick.

“Such a yummy and cute little Beta, no wonder everyone everyone confuses you for an Omega,” He licks the seat of your panties, practically cumming in his drawers at your taste, “Fuck, you even taste fertile. Does your little womb want my cum, Darling? Want me to pump a cute baby into you?” His words send another wave of heat to your core, causing your slit to gush out your arousal.

“Yes, yes please! Please fill me up!” He smirks at your neediness, and he shoves your legs apart. The smell of your arousal permeates the room, causing the large man to choke on his own spit.

“Oh my, your pussy smells so good,” N’Doul practically dives between your legs, sniffing at your dripping pussy. Your hands reach down and grip at his black locks, practically begging him to eat you out.

“Please lick my pussy! I was to take your knot,” He starts to kitten lick at your clit, causing tour hips to buck into his face, smearing your arousal over his chin and nose. He moans, loving the thought of everyone knowing that he belongs to you.

“Such a Good Girl, in no Time, we’ll have a cute pup running around. Then I’ll fuck another one into you, giving them a sibling to hang out with,” You keen at his words, especially when he inserts two fingers into you at once. He scissors them at a fast pace, sucking on your clit harshly. Your cunt gushes in your first orgasm, making your back arch and a scream leave your lips, “What a good Darling, loosen up so I can fuck you full.”

He adds two more into your cunt, your pussy sucking his fingers with an iron grip. His hips rut into the mattress below, as he brings you to a second release.

“I’m gonna stuff you full, keep you locked on my knot. My Darling Beta, my cute cumslut,” he withdraws his hand from your heat, making you whine. But, he’s quick to shut you up with another heated kiss. Pushing your knees back, he puts you into a mating press. With one hand he keeps you in that position, and the other pushes his drawers off of his hips, kicking them off onto the floor.

Lining his tip to your slick hole, he dips it in, testing the waters. When he feels your ring of muscle practically pulling you in, he can’t help but slam his entire length into you, causing you to scream out in both pleasure and pain. His tip rams into your cervix harshly, trying to access your deepest point.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, and starts to roughly fuck into you. His heavy balls slap against your ass in a rhythmic fashion, whilst he forced your knees by your head.

“Fuck, your sloppy cunt is taking me so well. I love the way you gush around my cock,” You can’t say anything, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back into your head. Pathetic moans rattle your chest, as he smashes himself as close as he can to you, “Don’t worry, Beta, your Alpha will fill you up nicely. I’ll make you round with my baby, I’ll give you pretty milky tits, and I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life!”

He picks up his pace, trying to draw out more noises and slick to help him force his way in. His knot is quickly forming at the base of his cock, and it pulls almost painfully at the opening of your slit.

“A-Alpha, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!” He smiles at your admission, starting to force his knot inside.

“Good Beta, cum around your Alpha’s knot,” N’Doul forces his entire weight onto you, bucking his hips even harsher than before.

His knot catches on your opening one more time, before breaching your drooling cunt. He ruts into you for a few moments longer, before his knot hardens fully, breaching the opening of your womb, locking himself inside of you.

The feeling of him knotting you causes you to squirt, your release just barely slipping past your stuffed opening, painting his abs with your cum. He forces his mouth onto yours, as his seed pumps into you in thick spurts. He fills you up so much, that you feel bloated, your tummy poking out a little bit more than normal. N’Doul Real esse your legs, letting you settle into a comfortable position, his warm hand lays on your stuffed womb.

“My beautiful mate, I’m so happy you accepted me. We’ll have the best pups, I’ll make sure none of you want for anything. Fuck, why’re you squeezing me so harshly?”

You whine in both pain and pleasure, laying your forearm across your eyes, “I think I need to go to the hospital. Betas aren't meant to take knots, and you’re currently deep in my womb,” He scrambles to pull himself out, only to yank on your womb harshly, making a small scream of pain escape your lips, and tears dot your eyes, “No! No! Not right now, oh god, that hurts so bad!”

His moment of post nut clarity, brings him to kiss your face with multiple tender kisses.

“It’s okay, Darling, we’ll patch you up soon. Maybe Dio will have a drug to make this less painful for you.”

You stare up at the ceiling with dread, the pills he gave you makes you feel good, yes, but the pain of no longer having freedom and a knotted cock in your womb is enough to make you sick.

Hopefully your kid will be cute. Because, if not, you don’t know what you’ll do.

#yandere n'doul #yandere n'doul x reader #n'doul x reader #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere omegaverse #omegaverse #jjba omegaverse

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Marks - John B Routledge

Request: Hi would you be able to write something about John b (outer banks) were the reader and him have been secretly seeing each other and one day they are all one the boat and she's wearing one of his shirts over a bikini and the others see the marks???? Love your work btw and sorry if this makes no sense and it OK if you can do it and thank you 💛🌻🌼

A/N: So I hope this is what you wanted?? I like how it turned out.

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

No one knew where the unofficial rule of Pogue life in the Outer Banks had come from but you all agreed that it felt like it had been around forever. Was it something Kiara made up in seventh grade when boy/girl parties meant more pressure to kiss whoever the cutest person in the room was? Was it something someone else made up that was overheard and adopted? Had it been around for a long time? It was hard to say, all you did know was that the rule was the rule, no Pogue-on-Pogue macking, and the rule was sacred. It hadn’t been transcribed in stone by a burning bush but it might as well have been the way that everyone talked about it. Some people broke the rule but never your group.

You’d kissed tourons, a odd kook once at a party that you never spoke of again for fear of retribution, but never a Pogue. It was a stupid rule, honestly, but it’d helped you not make terrible decisions. Like when you and JJ got so high in ninth grade that you almost kissed him. But even in the haze the rule was the rule and you didn’t break it.

“How am I supposed to get a boyfriend when the guys I’m allowed to like leave after two weeks?” You questioned, laying on the end of the HMS Pogue. It was this very conversation that had changed your opinion of the rule. Before that afternoon you followed like it was written law and you were afraid of burning in hell for breaking it.

But as you turned your head to the side to look over at your friends, at John B steering the boat through the marsh, it suddenly occurred to you that your question wasn’t a vague observation but rather a specific wanting. You didn’t want any guy to be your boyfriend, you wanted John B. You must’ve looked at him a thousand times in your life, you’d known him through bad haircuts, the summer before high school when his face broke out, the year he only wore stupid graphic tee’s from five below, and ill attempted bucket hat phase. All the unpleasant, unattractive moments in life that were supposed to deter you from even thinking about him that way didn’t seem to matter when you gazed at him across the boat. Tanned, unruly hair getting a little close to too long, some ridiculous Hawaiian shirt that he had the inability to button correctly.

“I’ll be your boyfriend.” Pope offered, handing you a beer.

You sat up to drink and gave him a skeptical look, “you going somewhere I don’t know about?”

“No Pogue on Pogue macking,” Kiara piped up like she was the spokesperson for it.

“Oh my god; I know!” You groaned and Pope laughed, “why do you think I’m in this dilemma?”

“You could date a kook,” JJ teased.

“Fuck you JJ.”

“Just mack on some Pogue we don’t know,” John B suggested. You looked over at him and took a long gulp of your beer, if he only knew.

“You know everyone,” Kiara pointed out.

“See, Kie understands my dilemma.”

“Actually, I kinda prefer not being tied down.” Kiara replied.

“Okay, archaic...I’m not trying to be someone’s property or something but it’d be kinda nice to have someone ya know? To not have to flirt with rando tourists all summer.” You complained. It was a legitimate problem.

“Sure. I hear that.” Pope agreed.

When everyone else had dispersed for the night, Pope back to his house, Kie to the Wreck, JJ to sleep in the hammock outside the Chateau, you and John B sat on the couch watching a movie on your laptop. You had your head on his shoulder and he was slumped against the cushions, far too quiet for a movie about a mega shark attacking people. He hadn’t said much else after your discussion about dating had died down. John B talked the talk, he flirted easily with tourons at parties but you never knew him to really be with anyone. You couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever called someone his girlfriend but you also didn’t know him to be the type to have random hookups.

“You’re so quiet.” You observed, “we haven’t even ragged on the stupid CGI.”

“The CGI is stupid.” John B said, tilting his head to look at you and smiling.

“Loser.” You shook your head. You wanted to tell him, you had decided on the boat that you had to. If he wasn’t interested in you, if the idea of dating one of his best friends freaked him out that was fine, you could be friends and move on. But if you just thought about it, obsessed over it, you would make it awkward. It would never be normal between the two of you because all you would focus on would be the what-ifs.

John B shrugged.

“Hey John B, can I ask you something?” You sat up, shifting away so that you could look at him.

“You just did.”

“Okay dad,” you rolled your eyes at him when he smiled.

“What’s up?” He asked, turning to face you, movie forgotten. The mega shark could eat whoever he wanted, John was focused on you and that was better than a movie.

You were never sure how these things worked. Did you say that you liked him and you wanted to be in a relationship with him? Did you tell him you wanted to kiss him? How did you say okay to him when he inevitability said he wasn’t interested? He probably liked someone else. Sure, you had never seen him with anyone but that didn’t mean he didn’t like someone else...maybe Kie, everyone liked her. And if he did you couldn’t be mad about that.

“Hey, E.T., phone home.” John B teased, waving a hand in front of your face.

You laughed and grabbed his wrist, “sorry.” You moved his hand to your lap and held it there, taking a deep breath. You could do this. This was John B, best friend, dork, treasure hunter. You talked to him about everything, you could talk to him about this. “The thing is-” You leaned forward, getting a rush of adrenaline as you closed your eyes and pressed your lips against his.

John B’s eyes went wide as he sat there, his brain working overtime to catch up with what was happening. His free hand gripped the back of the couch as he leaned more into the kiss. When you’d mentioned wanting to date someone, he never imagined that you could be thinking about him. You’d been friends for a long time but that didn’t erase the fact that you were attractive. He’d never do anything that you didn’t want but there were plenty of times when he stared a little too long or hugged you a little too long. He was sure JJ and Pope had too, it wasn’t anything unusual for a group so close to have crushes on each other but he couldn’t even wrap his mind around the two of you.

As the kiss deepened you let go of his hand to hold onto his shoulders, shifting yourself to straddle his lap. John B wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you against him completely as he laid back on the couch, the sudden motion making you yelp a little.

“Oh my god, JB!” You laughed; foreheads pressed together as you laid there on top of him.

“So uh, definitely broke a rule or two,” he joked. He watched as you sat up in his lap.

That was two weeks ago and in that time you and John B had almost perfected your ability to sneak around. Though no amount of perfectly crafted excuses, late nights at the Chateau without your friends, or actively pretending you were interested in other people when you were at a party could have helped you avoid the most obvious clue that one of you might be fooling around behind the group’s back.

You were on the HMS Pogue with the others, sitting cross-legged at the front with JJ smoking while Kiara and Pope swam. It would be dusk soon and the air was getting colder this far out. You would have just put your shorts and shirt back on but JJ had thrown you in the water earlier, fully dressed, and now you sat there, cold, with your wet clothes hanging over the side of the boat.

“Just give me your t-shirt.” You begged. You’d been asking JJ for his shirt to keep you warm for the last ten minutes.

“No. Then I’ll be cold.”

“So much for chivalry.”

“I’m sorry,” Pope called, “is your complaint that JJ isn’t chivalrous?”

“Yeah you’re right, my bad.” You stuck your tongue out at JJ and he smiled in return. John B was at the wheel, wearing your favorite of his numerous Hawaiian shirts. The one with the girls surfing. “Hey John B!” You called, leaning toward him and smiling.

“Yes?” John asked, smirking at you and raising an eyebrow in question.

“Can I have your shirt? JJ’s a douche and won’t give me his.”

“You’re such a baby.” JJ laughed.

“I guess I can spare it.” John replied, unbuttoning the only two buttons he’d done up and slipping the shirt off. You smiled, holding your hand out to him to accept the shirt.

Once he handed it over he walked back to the wheel, JJ sliding his sunglasses down his nose dramatically and letting out a low whistle. “Hot damn John B, didn’t know you liked it so rough.”

“What?” John whipped around, looking at JJ questioningly. The other boy slipped his sunglasses into his necklace and signed toward John B.

“You have, uh, scratches...on your back.” You supplied. JJ was still smirking.

“Wait what?” The commotion had caught Kiara and Pope’s attention, both swimming over to the boat and climbing in.

John’s eyes shot instinctively over at you and you looked away as he reached back and felt the slightly raised welts on his back from the previous night. None of the other pogues had stuck around last night, leaving you and John B in the Chateau alone.

JJ was watching your behavior and, when you turned away from him, noticed something off. “Hey Kie, hand me a water?”

“Seriously JJ?” She tossed the water at him as Pope followed up his “wait what” with twenty other questions. Who was it? When did you meet them? How long have you known them? Where they a pogue, a touron, worse? A kook?

JJ, meanwhile, spilled some water on his fingers and reached over, rubbing your neck without warning, “what the fuck JJ!” You shouted, jumping to your feet and moving away from him.

“Think I can answer your who Pope, unless that’s a coincidence.” He joked, pointing to the newly revealed hickey on your neck. You’d covered it with bronzer and foundation that morning but hours in the sun had sweat some of the makeup off and JJ had rubbed the rest.

“Oh my god!” Kiara grabbed your arm, turning you to look at the mark, “oh my god! For christ sake, we have a rule.”

“It’s a fucking stupid rule Kie and you know it.” John cut in immediately.

“Can’t argue with that.” JJ announced.

“Shut up Jay, you aren’t helping.”

“Guys...why didn’t you just tell us?” Pope asked.

“Cause I knew exactly how Kie would react.”

“We have a rule for a reason! What happens when you break up and then shit is awkward because we have to choose who to be friends with?” She argued.

“We aren’t gonna break up.” You insisted.

“You don’t know that, all summer you’ve been ‘I just want a boyfriend to mack on, it doesn’t have to be serious’ and so what? Some tourist won’t do because two weeks is too short but you and John B are gonna hook up? Until when?”

“Whoa, don’t turn on me!” You snapped.

“She’s got a point...not just you,” JJ quickly clarified. “But both of you...what happens when you get sick of whatever this is?”

“I’m not getting sick of anything and we’re not just hooking up for the summer Kie,” John B said, looking between his friends.

“You say that-”

“I love her.” He cut in. Turning to look at you he continued, “I love you, not exactly how I imagined telling you but...I love you.”

You bit your lip as you smiled, “I love you too.” You had known that first day on John B’s couch that there was no way the feelings you had for him could be contained to a random hookup. You weren't just dating for the summer to break up, this was something real. Something serious.

“Good, now I’m turning this fucking boat around and all of you can go the fuck home.”

“You’re kicking us off the boat cause Kie threw a tantrum.”

“I did not throw a tantrum JJ!” Kiara said, smacking his arm.

“You kinda did.”

“I’m not kicking you off the boat cause you threw a tantrum-”

“I didn’t throw a tantrum!” She laughed this time as she cut John B off.

“I’m dropping you off cause you definitely don’t wanna be around for the next couple of hours.” John B announced, glancing over at you and winking.

“Oh my god!” Pope groaned, “can you guys not talk about it.”

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @calumhoodsbuckethat @millie-753

If you want to be tagged let me know!

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

Wholesome Frat AU, Clearly aged up, college au, main characters are Bakugou, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro, Mina, and of course you my dear reader. Sexual themes, mentions of drugs and booze through out.

AHEM

Chapter 1

Denki lies upside down off his bed, staring at his phone when another invite to a party comes through. It's from a classmate he shares notes with and one of the few non toxic dudes on campus. A smile forms on his face, his fingers ready to fly across the screen to confirm his Friday night to be golden and one to remember.

Or maybe wish to remember as alcohol and maybe some weed numb his senses.

But then the location comes through, a frat house that's notorious for ignorance and low key rape culture. He turns it down claiming to study and sighs. Staring at his shared four walls from the top bunk.

"What's going on with you? No one wants you to keep their bed warm tonight?" Sero teases passing him up a beer before starting the next round of his game. Preferring to get buzzed and troll in Apex lobbies than find somewhere to be tonight.

Their phones buzz at the same time, Kirishima coming through on the group chat.

Big Red 🦈 : Any plans tonight boys?

Boomboi 💣 : Fuck off, busy.

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Apex

Zaptos ⚡: got invited to a party but location is sus af. You bro?

Big Red 🦈 : Yikes 😬 Keepin some ladies safe. Don't like the scene here…

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Same

Zaptos ⚡: Same

Boomboi 💣: FUCK OFF!

Denki and Sero both smirk at their phones before moving on with their Friday night with small talk of Instagram stories and received risque snapchats. As the beer fridge gets dwindles their thoughts seem to grow.

"Okay, listen. Here me out!" Denki says as if Sero would ever come off defensive. He finishes his eighth beer before continuing.

"What if we started our own frat? Like...like a fucking wholesome one."

"Dude not only does that sound impossible but what would we call ourselves?" Sero chuckles nursing his seventh beer. Denki pauses for a moment, trying to think of something, anything great.

"Alpha Kappa Wholesome." He smiles, "Yea that's it!"

Sero laughs from his bottom bunk earning an angry faced Denki to put half of his body over the side of his bed.

"I'm serious man! We could kick out whoever doesn't match our values. This college is supposed to be about making 'lasting connections' with fellow heroes! How are we supposed to do it when we are cooped up in our tiny dorm!" He gestures to their cramped room. A set of bunk beds and desks with their TV and shared dresser on the far wall. Sero looks around, this sure as hell wasn't like the dorms at UA that's for sure.

"Okay well two people isn't enough for a frat, man." Sero lets the dream die before it can bloom, running a hand through his raven hair. Denki scrunches up his face before he remembers where his crush stays. It's as if a light bulb lit up atop his upside down head. He jolts himself falling from the top bunk crashing into the empty beer bottle. They clink in protest but thankfully non break, just roll beneath the bottom bunk.

"But there is a sorority of only four and we have four friends in our group!"

Denki decides now is a good time to face time them. Kirishima answers first with a shout that he's gonna step outside, the roaring party and flashing lights die behind the shutting door while Bakugou is illuminated by the light of his screen glaring into the camera while a meek looking girl hides.

"This better be fucking good." Bakugou growls.

After an hour and a half of screaming Denki finally convinces Bakugou that sharing a house with the three of them as opposed to a rando was a much better idea. Reminding him that he had done it for three years in highschool surely he could last two more. He agrees but refuses to help argue with the dean meanwhile Kirishima is GLOWING with excitement over the idea formulating with his sober mind the best way to handle the notorious harsh Dean.

It takes petitions, several meetings and almost til the spring break to come down to this, the final meeting. Bakugou, who has attended every meeting and true to his word has said nothing. Denki nervous as a sinner in church, Sero who's sweating bullets and Kirishima all sit in the room with the board, treasury and the Dean in a final meeting of sorts.

Kirishima gulps and before he can explain the benefits the frat will have to offer the Dean stops him with a simple show of his hand. Taking a report from the secretary of treasury to look over, he just needed the monetary excuse to back up his favorite word.

"No." He clears his throat, "Unfortunately funds are too low to be able to support another fraternity." The Dean leaves it at that not even bothering to offer they join something preexisting.

Three of the four men accept defeat, mentally communicating that they did a good job trying. But the fourth man dreamed of his own room, of his own space to do as he pleased. And all without threat of being charged with murder. Although the fourth man would never admit that the reason he spoke up wasn't totally about the room, it was the look of defeat, anguish on his friends faces that had the room heating up a degree or two and smelling heavily of boiling sugar.

"Oi, toupee." The hot head let's his seat fall back to all fours, fixing the Dean a withering look, "You said something about not enough money huh?"

The Dean swallows thickly carefully thinking out his next sentence.

"Why, Yes its…." Bakugou interrupts before the Dean can even finish his thought.

"Pretty sure I'm the reason this campus is gonna be swarming with fucking no name extras next year." Katsuki's smile widens as his hand pops, "If you deny this request with the money I'm making you then I'll participate in the university sports festival with another college's across my fucking chest."

The Dean visibly sweats, Bakugou really was a hard student to land. His brash attitude and unapologetic behavior was popular among the younger generation bringing with it an influx of applicants and donations. It hadn't even been 24 hours since his announcement did it crash the admin and donation site. He panics, not even sure if there is any real estate available on or around campus in order for him to legally allow this fraternity to flourish. As if reading his mind the secretary of grounds offers him a file, an old run down home within a decent walking distance of the main campus. The Dean exhales the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Let's not act so rash. It has just come to my attention that we have some extra funding to be able to purchase a place for you all…" He looks over the file, he hopes this is enough to placate the hot head, "But it will need some old fashioned sweat equity, if we can secure it. The town has been kind enough to offer us first dibs to real estate within a certain radius of campus and if they like our offer you hardworking men will have your 'Alpha Kappa Wholesome home."

"They better like your offer." Is all Bakugou says before standing, "We get the keys in a month, got it?"

He doesn't give the Dean time to rebuttal, he just leaves while the other shocked three follow suit. It isn't until they are in the courtyard does their excitement hit them all at once.

"HOLY SHIT BAKUBRO ALWAYS COMING IN ON THE FUCKING KLUTCH!" Denki shouts, tackling Bakugou into a hug, Sero and then Kirishima wrap their arms around the yelling hot head who threatens to blow them up.

"I owe you a fucking drink!" Kirishima shouts lifting the group and twirling them

"OI OI OI SHITTY HAIR PUT ME DOWN!"

After that promised drink and a month of waiting the four musketeers stand before their new home. The house is trashed, easily a short sale of a foreclosure as the rent went higher but their wages stayed low. The amount of work to make this place semi decent was going to be astronomical at best.

Bakugou is thoroughly unimpressed, scoffing as Denki runs up the porch. The vision is clear in the electric blonde's head. The massive porch is clean, with a swing and some chairs, string lights hanging from the wooden ceiling while the half wrapped around, second story porch is draped in endless artificial star light cloaking the house in cozy warmth.

Dneki opens the front door and plume of dust rushes out around him, the other two follow suit. Taking the steps two at a time as they rush into the house. Harsh garnet stares after them before glancing at their luggage. He decides to leave it all stepping inside.

Their imaginations run rampant as they stand beneath the large archway to the main living room while Bakugou begins to second guess opening his mouth. That or getting more money from the Dean. Before displeasure can leave the hot head his friends turn to face him, their eyes shining and smiles stretched wide, wide enough it begins to hurt Bakugou's own cheeks. They encourage him to step into the home more, telling him what will go where. For a moment his smile is soft, tender as he looks at these three idiots seeing the bright side of everything before he steels back into his normal self.

"Oi! Quick acting all googly eyed. We've got a lot of work to do and a lot of fucking money to raise."

The four friends spend majority of their spring term picking rooms and doing basic cleaning. Bringing only one of the two full bathrooms up to par, trying their best to keep up with the old big house. Even after all of them picked their rooms there were still three bedrooms and a den with a door left. They brain stormed adding recruits but Bakugou shot the idea down despite Sero being elected the president of the frat.

Spring boils into summer, bringing with it the promise of cold hard cash. Bake sales and lunch deals thanks to Bakugou's cooking skills brought in a large amount of income, so did the odd jobs Kirishima, Denki, and Sero found themselves doing. Still they find themselves short.

"Shirtless carwash!" Denki announces earning a glare from Bakugou. Kirishima pipes up before the idea is blasted sky high.

"Think of the money man. The community around here is soccer mom's and freshly graduated college kids and I don't know about yall but when I go for a run or hit up the corner store after a good run I'm being stared at."

"That's a valid point Bakugou. I've seen how they flock to you for baked goods, they've been staring at your arms and eyes man." Sero adds voting yes to the idea making it three to one.

Just as Kirishima said, woman and even some men, flock to the area for a car wash. Some even coming back twice in one day! The cash flow is good but still a bit lacking. Denki wipes the sweat from his brow as he wonders how they will get enough to be able to get decent light fixtures and a working fridge in the dorm. Let alone anything aside from a blown up mattress and folding chairs in the living room. He scrolls through his social media on his break and comes across the miracle he has been asking for.

A lovely summer picture of four women in bikinis, three of them his housemates have lived with before. Mina Ashido, Jiro Kyoka, Ochako Uraraka, and then there is the new woman, you.

But what makes the picture that much sweeter isn't even the content itself, no it's that gorgeous caption just beneath it.

"BASIC BITCH CAR WASH! Help us raise money for an apartment so our sorority doesn't get disbanded!"

An idea formulates in the electric blondes head so quickly he thinks sparks fly from his ears. A dangerous smile forms on Denki Kaminari's lips.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha au #bnha college au #bnha wholesome frat au

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kjack89 · 3 years

Note

there are so many good ones on that list but UHHHHH... 24 or 31? (or 36. or 37 👀)

Every now and then I like to take a prompt that is clearly intended to be angsty and instead make it...not so.

This is one of those times.

ExR, Modern AU, established relationship. Brief misunderstandings, healthy(ish) communication, and lots o’ fluff.

31. “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

“Are you shitting me?”

Grantaire stared down at the brightly colored flyer in apparent disgust, and Bossuet bent over to pry it from him. “What could possibly…” he started, trailing off as he saw what had caught Grantaire’s ire. “Ah. I’ll take it he didn’t, uh, clear it with you first?”

“It’s not about clearing it with me,” Grantaire snapped, snatching the flyer back. “I’m not his keeper. But I would think it would get at least a cursory mention.”

“What’s going on?” Joly asked from across the table, using Bossuet’s preoccupation to snag a bite of hashbrowns from his plate. Grantaire just thrust the flyer at Joly, who took it from him, raising both eyebrows as he read out loud, “‘Pucker Up for Change – A Kissing Booth to Fight to Legitimize Sex Work’?” He glanced up at Grantaire, who was scowling. “But what does this…”

It was his turn to trail off as he spotted the name listed among the other participants at the bottom of the flyer: Enjolras. Joly switched his glance to Bossuet. “What do you think?” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth. “Do you think Courfeyrac blackmailed him into it?”

“Either that or Combeferre’s getting revenge for something,” Bossuet muttered back.

Grantaire cleared his throat. “I don’t think the why really matters,” he said, his tone clipped. “When the more important thing is that my boyfriend is participating in a kissing booth and, y’know, neglected to tell me about it.”

“I’m sure it just slipped his mind,” Bossuet said bracingly. “You know that Enjolras has been so focused on the cash bail reform bill that’s in the House at the moment that he probably completely forgot he even agreed to participate.”

“Or,” Joly added, in what he clearly thought was a helpful way, “maybe Courfeyrac signed him up as a joke, and Enjolras doesn’t even know about it!”

“Or, maybe Enjolras forgot that he had a boyfriend who wouldn’t be super thrilled about him macking on a bunch of randos for ten bucks a pop,” Grantaire said sourly.

Joly and Bossuet both stared at him for a moment before Bossuet bit his lip, and Joly elbowed him. “Not the time,” he hissed, and Bossuet shook his head rapidly, clearly trying to stop himself from laughing.

Grantaire sighed. “What?”

“Just…’macking’?” Bossuet repeated with a snigger.

The corners of Joly’s mouth twitched. “I thought you were going to point out the use of the word ‘randos’,” he said, the pitch of his voice rising as he tried not to giggle.

Grantaire sighed again. “You two are the worst friends,” he grumbled, picking up his phone and texting Enjolras the four most ominous words in the English language: We need to talk.

----------

They didn’t talk.

Enjolras texted Grantaire back that he was in and out of meetings between the community bond fund and various state legislators, and asked if it could wait until that night. Considering that the damned kissing booth was scheduled for that afternoon, that didn’t exactly give Grantaire any opportunity to bring up the fact that Enjolras was planning on spending his afternoon locking lips with random passersby.

He texted Jehan. Pretty fucked up that passersby is the plural of passerby, and not passerbys.

I’ll take it you’re freaking out about the kissing booth thing? Jehan responded not even a minute later.

Grantaire didn’t bother asking Jehan how he knew about the kissing booth, or how he knew that Grantaire was upset about it – he had learned a long time ago not to question Jehan’s borderline omniscient ways. Don’t you think he should’ve at least told me about it??

I think that you’re interpreting the fact that he didn’t as evidence that he doesn’t care about you, Jehan replied. Which is crap. Enjolras loves you.

Loves me enough to make out with strangers without telling me about it?

Jehan’s response took longer this time. I highly doubt there will be any making out. And have you considered that the reason he didn’t tell you is precisely because he didn’t want you to feel this way?

The thought had occurred to Grantaire, who scowled down at his phone. Doesn’t change the fact that he should’ve told me, he texted stubbornly.

Maybe not. But maybe you should give him a chance to explain tonight.

Grantaire’s scowl deepened and he shoved his phone back in his pocket. He figured he could be magnanimous enough to allow Enjolras a chance to explain.

But he sure as hell wasn’t going to wait for that night.

----------

“Next,” called the bored-looking guy who was managing the short line waiting for the kissing booth, and Grantaire took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Boy, girl, or nonbinary?”

“Sorry?” Grantaire said, blinking at him in confusion.

“Would you prefer to kiss a boy, a girl, or a nonbinary person?” the guy clarified.

Grantaire knew he should be impressed that something as asinine as a kissing booth was inclusive, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to be. “Boy,” he said, and the guy gestured for him to head over to the right side of the booth.

Taking a deep breath, Grantaire squared his shoulders and stalked over, plunking a ten dollar bill down in front of where Enjolras was sitting. “I believe this is the going rate,” he said stiffly.

The look on Enjolras’s face was everything that Grantaire had hoped it would be, a mix of horror, regret, and a particularly Enjolras-like defiance. “I suppose I owe you an explanation,” Enjolras started, but Grantaire held up a hand.

“First things first,” he said. “I paid, so I should get what I’m owed.” Enjolras rolled his eyes but nonetheless leaned in obliging and gave Grantaire a swift peck on the lips. “Not sure that was ten dollars worth…” Grantaire said, before continuing, “Now, about that explanation—”

It was Enjolras’s turn to hold up a finger, and he leaned back in his seat to talk to someone on the other side of the booth. “Hey, I’m tapping out for the moment.” Whatever response he got was apparently enough, as he stood, reaching out automatically for Grantaire’s hand.

For a brief moment, Grantaire thought about yanking his hand away, but even as ticked off as he was, he couldn’t do that.

Instead, he let Enjolras take his hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked away from the kissing booth . Enjolras glanced over at Grantaire and opened his mouth to say something, but Grantaire shook his head. “Not here,” he said tersely.

Instead, they headed to a nearby Starbucks, though Enjolras made a face when he realized where they were going. “Starbucks, really?” he asked.

“You spent an afternoon kissing people who are not me,” Grantaire said. “The least you can do is buy me an overpriced coffee.”

Enjolras didn’t argue any further, and they both got their coffees and made their way over to stand against the bar, their shoulders brushing against each other as they drank their coffee in silence.

“So,” Grantaire started eventually, and Enjolras sighed, draining his coffee.

“So I gather you’re upset,” he hedged, and Grantaire looked flatly at him.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

A small smile crossed Enjolras’s face. “Am I at least allowed to make my defense?”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “If you think there’s anything you can say in your defense that will make even a remote bit of difference.”

“How about this: I agreed to the kissing booth before you and I started officially dating,” Enjolras said calmly. “And you know that I honor my commitments.”

“Just not the commitment you made to me.”

It was unfair of Grantaire to say, and he knew it, but Enjolras just sighed and shook his head. “I’m not going to pretend that I owe you every part of my life,” he said. “And I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t decide that asking forgiveness was easier than asking permission.”

Grantaire frowned. “You don’t need my permission,” he said.

Enjolras arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what this is about?”

“No, this is about you deciding that it was easier for us to not at least have a conversation about it,” Grantaire said evenly. “I know damn well that you don’t need my permission for anything, and vice-versa. But you still should’ve at least given me a head’s up about it so that I wasn’t completely blindsided.”

For a moment, Enjolras looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he ducked his head and nodded. “You’re right.”

Grantaire blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I said, you’re right,” Enjolras repeated, a little louder.

Grantaire smirked at him. “Oh I heard you, I just wanted to make you say it again.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Hilarious,” he said dryly.

“Yeah, but my superb wit is one of the things you love about me,” Grantaire said, still grinning.

“You are unfortunately correct,” Enjolras said with a light laugh, pulling Grantaire in and kissing him. “So does that mean that I’m forgiven?”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “That depends. You got any other makeout sessions for charity planned?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “There was no making out,” he said, a little impatiently. “It was just kissing.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to,” Grantaire muttered under his breath.

“And it wasn’t technically for charity. It was in protest of how things like kissing booths are completely normalized and accepted, but sex work is marginalized and—” Grantaire yawned exaggeratedly and Enjolras rolled his eyes again, but it was with obvious affection. “It wouldn’t kill you to pretend to care.”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Pot, meet kettle.”

Enjolras’s expression softened. “I do care,” he said. “And I’m sorry for making you doubt it.”

Grantaire softened as well, not at all surprisingly. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to stay mad at Enjolras for long. “Well, for that at least, I am more than willing to forgive you.”

“And for the rest?”

But that also didn’t mean that Grantaire was completely willing to just roll over. “Answer my previous question.”

“No, I have absolutely no future plans for any kind of kissing booth or anything like that,” Enjolras said firmly. “Besides, I don’t know if I could bring myself to do it again.”

Grantaire cocked his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

The breath seemed to catch in Grantaire’s throat, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Good answer,” he managed, before tugging Enjolras to him and kissing him.

When they broke apart, both men were grinning. “That’ll be ten dollars,” Enjolras said, a little breathlessly.

“Shut up,” Grantaire said, laughing.

“So am I definitely forgiven now?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire just kissed him again, curling his fist in Enjolras’s shirt, knowing full well that the kiss would say far more than words ever could, and content in the knowledge that from here on out, the only person that would be kissing Enjolras was him.

And he wouldn’t even have to pay $10 to do so.

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #bossuet #joly #jehan #ask #answered #eldritchw1tch #ask meme #fic prompt #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #established relationship #mild misunderstandings #fluff

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imaginethatneathuh · 3 years

Text

Silence: Elijah Mikaelson - TVD/TO (Request)

Elijah Mikaelson x partner!reader, romantic

Elijah is upset with you for drinking so much and the two of you fight.

Request from Wattpad.

TW/CW: Drinking, controlling partner, fear, might be something else I've forgotten.

Word count: 2.4+ K

Completely unedited.

•

Swaying to the music and feeling the hot bodies around you, you smiled. The Mystic Grille back home was great and all, but places like this, places no one cares about who you are and you can let loose, are the absolute best. Though that may be the alcohol talking.

You had five, maybe six, shots. Plus, of course, a fuck ton of beers prior to said shots.

Despite Elijah’s warning, one you didn’t really care to listen to, you had gone out.

Kol, of course, came along for the ride. After all, if his brothers wouldn’t let him have any real fun, then he’d tag along with you and find some trouble of his own.

A pair of hands rested on your sides.

The contact of someone you knew wasn’t your partner caused you to turn around in fear.

Kol stood there, smirking.

“Don’t worry, it’s just me, love,” he said, shouting over the music.

Realizing it was him, you relaxed and smiled.

“I wanna do more shots,” you said, bouncing around.

Kol laughed. “You keep this up, I might not be able to get you home without Elijah knowing.”

“Shots, Kol, shots,” you said, dragging him to the bar. “We are doing them.”

Kol allowed you to pull him along, smiling. “God, Elijah is going to kill me in the morning.”

“What?” You asked, not hearing him.

The bartender smiled politely at someone and handed them a martini.

The bright lights of the club’s neon lined bar reflected off Kol’s pale skin, making you giggle slightly.

The bartender smiled, placing their hands on the edge of the bar.

“What can I do for you?” They asked.

“Shots!” You shouted, continuing to bounce.

Kol nodded, giving the bartender a polite smile.

“Water them down a bit, will ya?” He asked, leaning over the bar slightly.

The bartender looked at you then back at him before nodding.

“Gotcha,” they said.

•

Kol, with one arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding your arm over his shoulder, made his way to the front door of your place.

“Come on,” Kol said. “We’re almost there.”

You laughed.

“Almost pear,” you said, still laughing.

Kol smiled a little, shaking his head.

As the two of you reached the door, Kol tried to grab your keys from your pocket but failed. You moved away from him, giggling.

“Y/N,” he said. “Let me get the keys.”

He tried getting them again but you moved away, landing against the wall and falling, all while giggling.

“Nuh-uh,” you said, smiling at him in your drunken state.

Kol sighed and tiredly smiled at you. He picked up the keys that had fallen out when he fell.

“Come on, love.” He reached for you but you crawled away on all fours. “Y/N, you need to go to bed. Elijah --”

“He is not my daddy,” you said, crossing your arms and pouting.

The drizzle from earlier made its home on your trousers.

Kol glared at your childish actions. But he couldn’t really fault you for that. He would have acted the same way and besides, you were drunk. Most people do and/or say stupid shit like that. It wasn’t surprising, really.

While talking, neither noticed Elijah as he walked over.

“Am I not?” He asked, causing Kol to whip around.

Eyes wide, Kol’s mouth opened to say something but Elijah held up his hand.

“You can go,” Elijah said, his gaze only leaving you for a split second to look at his brother.

Kol shrugged and tossed him the keys.

Elijah caught them with one hand.

Instead of walking over and helping you up, he walked to the door. He didn’t even bother to say anything as he did so.

“Elijah,” you called.

He ignored you.

“Eeeliijaah,” you called again.

He kept ignoring you as he unlocked it.

Pouting, you got up but stumbled. You couldn’t help but laugh a little as you fell. The ground wouldn’t be so bad to sleep on. Sure, you’d be wet in the morning, but you’ve done it before.

Elijah stood at the, now open, door.

Of course, he wanted to go back and pick your drunk-self up. He was your partner and did love you very much. Even if you had directly and purposefully disobeyed him.

After fighting with himself for a good minute, he went back and picked you up. But, using his vampire-speed, the two of you went inside and he tossed you on the sofa.

You sunk into the soft, blanket covered sofa, grinning. Though the ground and grass of your front lawn was fine to sleep on, a sofa was definitely better. Not as good as your bed, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“I knew you loved me,” you mumbled, pulling one of the throw pillows into your grip and quickly falling asleep.

•

At the Mikealson’s place, you relaxed in one of the sofas, hiding your face from the sunlight. As much as you enjoyed the relative silence of the house, you hated how open the rooms with sofas were. But, it wasn’t that bad.

There was this crushing force being applied to your skull from pretty much all angles. Since you got onto the soft, warm, comforting sofa, you hadn’t left. Every time you moved, the ground under you felt like it was swaying and you wanted to puke. The mere mention of eating also had a similar effect. The feelings were slowly diminished, but not as much as you wished they had.

Elijah, your current partner and favourite person, walked into the area of the house you were desperately trying to sleep in. He said nothing as he poured a glass of alcohol.

The mere sound of it made you cringe.

You pulled the blankets tighter around your body. “Do you wanna join me? I could use some cuddles.”

He didn’t say a word.

“Elijah?” After realizing he wasn’t going to respond, your shoulders slumped. “Is this because I got drunk?”

His silence spoke volumes as to what he was getting at.

“You’re really going to give me the silent treatment because I wanted to have some fun?”

He sipped the dark liquor from his glass, turned away from you.

“Okay, fine. Two can play at that game.” You fell back into the sofa and buried yourself.

If he was going to ignore you, you would ignore him, too.

•

Several weeks passed by and he still hadn’t talked to you. It was really starting to get under your skin, but Elijah seemed cool as a cucumber. As always.

Happily, you threw your arms around Kol’s neck. He was sitting on the sofa, making it that much easier.

“I’m bored,” you said, pouting.

He flipped the page of his book. “Your point?”

Straightening, you smiled. “Let’s go to a club or something! I want to party.” You mimed dancing, tossing your hands into the air like you just don’t care.

Kol laughed and set his book down. ‘You sure? Elijah still hasn’t talked to you since last time and that was weeks ago.”

You nodded, still dancing to nothing.

“Fine, but he gets pissed again, don’t go blaming me,” he said as he got up.

•

The pulsing music felt good as you swayed to it like there was no one else there. It felt good in your soul. The three or four drinks you’d had definitely helped loosen you up. They let you move to the music in a way you usually wouldn’t which is just what you needed.

Kol, instead of dancing with you, sat at your table and watched, drinking and smiling. A few girls had taken peaks at him. When he looked over at them and smirked, they giggled and looked away. The Original had that effect on people, especially girls.

Someone comes up from behind and starts dancing with you, getting a little too touchy for your liking.

You turnt to Kol, giving him a look that said “help”.

He nodded and stood, leaving his empty glass on the table.

Before Kol could reach you, someone else pulled the stranger away.

“What the fuck, dude?” The rando asked.

Elijah cooley glared at them before turning to you. “We’re leaving.”

“Oh, no, fuck that, you can’t make me do shite,” you said, crossing your arms. “I’m having a good time and I ain’t about to let you ruin that.”

The two of you glared at each other for a while before Elijah grabs you and drags you away.

“Elijah!” You yelp as he pulls you along, his strength far exceeding your own.

Kol hoped that the two of you would actually talk about Elijah’s overprotectiveness so the hostility between the two of you would go the fuck away and he wouldn’t be stuck between you two anymore.

•

The bouncer for the club watched as Elijah dragged you away but said nothing. Still, he watched on with narrow eyes.

You turnt back and waved goodbye with a smile. It was your way of letting him know you were fine.

He nodded to you, a polite smile on his face.

Elijah dragged you along to his car, opening a door for you.

“I’m not getting in,” you said.

Elijah sighed. “I do not wish to compel you, my love, but I will if I must.”

The defiance you tried to keep up faded as you got into the passenger seat of the black sedan.

•

Elijah sipped on a glass of whiskey, sitting on the sofa in the living room. His suit jacket lay over the arm and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

When he had found you gone, he wasn’t surprised but still the anxiety of your disappearance had made him feel like puking.

Despite his rather cold actions toward you lately, he loved you more than he had loved anyone else in his life. He’d said it before about other lovers in the past, and he had loved them greatly at the time, just as he did with you now. But now is slightly different to back then. Now, there were other monsters he had to fear, ones that could find him and, more importantly, his family much easier than before. That family now included you and you had no way to protect yourself from the horrors his family had to face.

He mentally slapped himself for even considering being with a human.

With all the dangers of just being around supernatural creatures like himself, being with one romantically was even more dangerous.

Elijah downed the rest of his drink and set the glass down. He leant back into the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

“So, what?” You said, walking into the room. “You can drink, but I can’t?”

Elijah sighed and closed his eyes. “I don’t feel the effects the same as you do, my love,” he said. “I’ve also had one drink over the course of several hours, not a bunch over the course of not even an hour.”

You rolled your eyes.

In a random act of defiance, and right in front of Elijah, you poured yourself a glass of whiskey. It was your way of saying “fuck you, you controlling arsehole”.

He didn’t try to stop you, not even when you downed the entire glass.

“You should eat something. There are still leftovers in the fridge,” Elijah said.

Ignoring him, you poured another drink and downed it.

“My love,” he said. “Please, eat something before you go to bed. I can make you something if you wish.”

“Fuck you.”

The vampire sighed and rubbed his face. “Why are you like this?” He mumbled.

“Why do you have to be a controlling prick?”

He looked up as you drank more from the decanter containing whiskey. His jaw tightened but he said nothing.

“What? Can’t admit it so you ignore it?” You asked. “And I thought you were the mature one of the lot.”

Elijah stood and began to leave. “I’m going to reheat some leftovers for you. It’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done.”

“Don’t.”

He looked back. “Don’t what?”

“I want answers, Mikaelson, not fucking food.” You set the decanter down with a thud.

Turning back to you, Elijah sighed. “I’m rather tired, Y/N, can we do this tomorrow?”

“No. I want answers and I want them now. You’re being a total fucking control freak and I want to know why.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I’m not trying to be.”

You crossed your arms and scoffed. “Well, you are. I’m safe with Kol. He knows how to make sure I’m okay when I drink. I don’t need you butting in.”

Elijah got closer to you. He looked down before meeting your gaze, his voice hardening. “And what if he loses track of you at a club or bar? What if you find yourself in a dark alley? What if there’s someone there? Someone we’ve-- I’ve done wrongs to? What happens then?” He asked, torturing himself with the idea.

You looked him up and down, finally understanding what was going on in his head. “This isn’t about my drinking, is it?”

Elijah shook his head.

“Doll, why didn’t you just talk to me about it?” You asked, getting closer and taking his hand. “I’d be fine with drinking at home or somewhere you believe’s safe.”

He shrugged. Elijah, ever respectful, brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

“I hate thinking about it,” he whispered, pulling you in close. “I hate thinking about you getting hurt. When I sleep, it’s plagued by different scenarios, each one more horrific than the last. And even if I don’t, I still stay up and play and replay things that could happen to you.”

You kissed him softly on the forehead. “Elijah, you don’t have to worry about that. Not when my best friend is Kol Mikaelson and my beloved partner is Elijah fucking Mikaelson. What vampire, or witch, or werewolf, or whatever, in their right mind would try it?”

Elijah chuckled. “Not many of them are, my love.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll stop going out to clubs and bars and shite.”

He shook his head. “No, no. I was being too ‘over dramatic’, as Rebekah would say. Just, please, tell me and take Kol with you.” Elijah cupped your cheek and rubbed his thumb across your skin. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you said, smiling at him.

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson x reader #the vampire diaries #the originals

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beomglocks · 4 years

Text

terror ave. ; c.bg

warnings and other: um?, theres a serial killer, murder is mentioned, nothing too detailed, not proofread bc i wrote this at 4am

"we advise everyone to be in complete lockdown as there have seemed to have been reports of a serial killer gone loose in the area. so far no one has been injured but we suggest taking extra precautions tonight. please do not go outside during this time. lock your doors, close your windows, and turn off all the ligh-"

frowning, you look down at the tub of ice cream situated in between your legs. you lick the ice cream from your spoon as the rest of the news report gets drowned out by your thoughts. wait- shit i think i forgot to lock the back door... you shrug. you forgot that you had invited your neighbor beomgyu over, earlier in the day. he had insisted that he had a cool new pokemon to show you on his switch and you, stupidly, allowed him to show you. to your dismay, it only turned out to be a measly skwovet.

"gyu, you can literally catch these at route 1. you know, in the beginning of the game?" you had told him with a disappointed look on your face. "you're on your 5th gym."

he had gasped in offense, bringing his switch closer to his chest to shield the creature from further judgment. "y/n how dare you! it's the cutest pokemon in the game so of course, i went back to get one. don't you think you're being too mean?"

you giggled to yourself remembering the little back and forth. you've been living alone in your current house for only a couple of months. you were surprised your parents let you move out and have a whole house in the suburbs to yourself considering how strict and overprotective they were. upon moving, you quickly befriended choi beomgyu, the literal boy next door. he had offered to help you get your couch through the door and proceeded to eat his melting chocolate bar on said couch. from then on you and him have been best friends ever since, sometimes having him sleepover or vise versa.

you weren't worried about some rando serial killer in your neighborhood since nothing ever happened to you. you were convinced you weren't the main character.

from your couch, you looked outside to see that beomgyu's lights were already turned off. he must've gone to sleep early. your eyes catch the clock on your wall and you subconsciously yawn when you see how late it is. 1:56 am? damn... i should probably go to sleep too.

you pick up the tub of ice cream and take it back to your kitchen. its fucking chilly in here. you rub your arms as goosebumps start to form on them. you peek around the corner of the wall dividing your kitchen to where the back door is located. it's slightly cracked open and that raises some bit of concern in your head. again, you shrug. you remember beomgyu leaving out the back door since he liked coming in from the back instead of the front. an odd quirk of his that you never got to question him about because every time you tried he would simply smile at you cutely and say something like "its cool that's why."

you walk over to the door while being cautious about where you step since your house was pretty messy. you shut the door and sigh, dragging your body towards the living room again to turn the tv off. the news reporter was just about to give more instructions but frankly, you're too tired to care.

now that the tv was turned off you felt a weird sense of loneliness. the white noise being emitted from the screen becoming a bit too deafening to your ears to handle. you switch the tv off properly and toss the remote somewhere on the couch.

you walk up to your bedroom while scrolling through your Instagram feed. you laugh at the caption of beomgyu's latest post because it's alluding to the argument you both had earlier and type a comment hoping that he'll have time to read it when he wakes up.

when you reach your bedroom you toss your phone haphazardly on your bed and flop yourself into the sheets. today was fairly unproductive but that's been the premise of your days lately. you wonder how you manage to do absolutely nothing yet feel the weight of 10 thousand bricks on you back.

you sigh as you feel yourself slowly drift off to sleep but a noise in the room next door startles you. if you had been fully asleep you probably wouldn't have heard it but you're sure you heard a noise even in your half-asleep state. you sit up in your bed pulling the sheets closer to you. you decide to hold your breath in case you hear another noise or if you're just being delusional and sleep-deprived.

you wait for a while and after 5 minutes you don't hear anything. you sigh quietly but before you can settle back and get back to sleep you hear another noise. ok, you know for sure you have no roommates and beomgyu always tells you he's coming over before he does. the room you're hearing the noises from is the storage room where you keep all the extra furniture and miscellaneous items that you haven't had the chance to use or set up yet so nothing should be moving in there. you also recall the movers checking the house for any squatters since that seemed to be more common than most people would think. that day you had been happy and relieved to know that there was none of that in the house.

a thought crosses your mind that it could be the serial killer that's on the loose currently. if that's the case then the killer is in your house, a few feet away, in a room that has old kitchen knives that you decided don't need to be displayed.

you stare at your door while reaching for your phone. you can hear the person walking around the room and dragging the knives across the wall in a menacing manner and that's when the anxiety finally kicks in. your eyes start filling up with tears at the thought of a deranged serial killer being just a couple feet away from you, literally a wall away.

you feel your phone graze your hand and grab it shakily, slowly getting up from your bed. you don't wanna call anyone right now since the walls are thin, the killer might hear you then it's really game over. once you get to your bedroom door, you push it open so painfully slowly that you just wanna sob right there. you hate that something like this is seriously happening to you.

the killer doesn't seem to be out in the open yet. you figure they're still deep in the storage room. that gives you some time to get out of your house and maybe run to a police station or something. you walk out into the hall and cautiously walk down the stairs hoping they won't do that annoying thing where they creak in intense moments. thankfully though, you make it down the stairs.

immediately, you bolt out of your house. you don't know why but you have the sudden idea to ask beomgyu for help. you run to his house and ring the door repeatedly, you don't care if you're being annoying. you look back at your own house and all the lights are still turned off except for your bedroom lights which you left on. hopefully, the killer isn't persistent and won't come looking for you. you turn back to beomgyu's door and keep ringing the doorbell hoping his ass will wake up since you know he's a heavy sleeper. "come on, come on. fucking choi beomgyu, come on!" you whisper anxiously.

suddenly the door swings open and an angry but half asleep beomgyu is standing there. his hair is disheveled and his face is scrunched up in confusion and drowsiness. you push past him and jump on his couch covering yourself with one of his pillows. "y/n? what the fuck are you doing. it's like 2 am?" he shuts the door, walking over to you.

"is everything locked? the windows? the door just now?" you look up at him, biting your lip. "yes everything is locked and look," you watch him walk back to the front door and lock it. "now the door is locked. mind telling me why you bum-rushed into my house at the ass crack of dawn?"

"gyu-" you can't even manage to get a proper sentence out because a broken sob leaves your mouth rather than words. you walk up to him and hug him tightly. you don't care that you're probably soaking his t-shirt with your tears, you need him to know that you really care about him and you were almost permanently separated from him today. "y/n?"

"gyu t-the killer. the s-serial killer! he's in m-my house right now," you sob even harder into his shirt and you're glad he feels warm because those 2 minutes of ringing his doorbell out there made you almost freeze to death. especially since you're only wearing your pjs which consisted of a t-shirt and short shorts.

you feel him hug you back and you sigh shakily as he rubs your back to comfort you. "y/n," he says simply. you pull away from him, which you immediately regret because you start to feel cold again. "w-we need to call the police," you wipe your tears harshly but to no avail, since they just keep falling against your will.

you take your phone from your pocket and start to dial but beomgyu takes your phone from you and pockets it into his sweats. "y/n, i've never seen you cry. you look so pretty when you cry," he leans closer to your face and you flinch when he brings his hand up to caress your cheek before wiping a stray tear from it.

"gyu, we need t-to call the police! it's not the time f-for games. give me my phone please," you move his hand away from your face and motion for him to give your phone back. he chuckles right in your face, mockingly.

"please, she says."

you watch expectantly as he takes your phone out of his pocket but feel your heart drop with it as he lets it fall to the floor with a deafening crack. if that wasn't enough, you watch in disbelief as he stomps on it with force, effectively rendering it useless.

your eyes start to fill with tears again and the sinking feeling that beomgyu isn't gonna help you starts to settle. "w-why," you blubber. you fall to the ground in defeat and confusion. you don't even have the strength to run to the door to get proper help because you felt you had no energy after watching beomgyu turn his back on you.

"ever since you moved here i've had my eye on you. i really like you y/n. scratch that, i love you y/n. the other girl that lived in the house before you was boring so i had her killed off within the first week of her moving here. i mean she was pretty but you're gorgeous, i like you much more." he lifts you off the ground and examines your face to see how your taking in this information. you can't even speak because of the burning sensation in your throat from trying to hold back your tears so hard.

"i bailed that asshole killer out of jail and hired him to kill people for me," he continues. "didn't actually wanna get my hands dirty."

he moves you to sit on the couch as if this is just another normal conversation between friends. it finally clicks in your head what's happening and you stand up and snap at him. "what the fuck gyu? i thought you were just a regular person what the fuck is wrong with you!" you begin to walk to the front door but he grabs you with a force you've never felt him use before.

"y/n really? i've been protecting you this whole time!" you can sense that his patience is thinning. "all this time! when we walked to the store and those guys catcalled you, i had them killed. that guy that hit on you in our seminar class, he's gone!" he smiles wickedly and you hate the fact that he still looks like your adorable best friend.

"y/n you're the only for me. im sorry i scared you but i knew if the serial killer went to your home you'd come running to me," you feel him rubbing your hand soothingly and you pull away from him with disgust.

"don't touch me! i'm going to the police, this is fucking sick." before you can even reach the door you hear something click. you feel a cold metal around your wrist and when you look down you see that beomgyu has handcuffed you to the door. "you're not leaving y/n, do i really have to do this to you? i've been waiting for months just for you to run away?" he whispers.

"beomgyu let me go right now," you seethe. the anxiety you felt before is only heightened when you look around and catch someone leaving from your house. "beomgyu please," you resort to petty pleads.

he pouts at you, "don't worry y/n i'm not gonna hurt you, i would never." he gives you a tender kiss on your forehead before standing up again.

"i just want you to myself that's all."

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monst · 4 years

Text

In love and loathing

Yandere? Hawks (Takami Keigo) x Yanderish! Reader

Warnings: Death, there is also mention of some rando dying too, Mention of suicide, blood, distrubing obbession. Stalking, gaslighting and other yandere themes =D

I just read your brujería tamaki fic and was A-MA-ZING! if you could, please do another one but this time it’s reader putting a love spell on Hawks! please and thank you. BTW I think that most latinxs know of at least 1 person who’s into macumba and willing to do crazy stuff - @the-temple-pythoness (Sorry for the long wait…)

WC: 3,500

You watched the man in astonishment, observing every explosion of color that lit the air when a shivering bubble popped. The air in the small room had become thick with smoke, your nostrils assaulted with the scent of fire and burning roots. Long dexterous fingers plucked leaves from odd shrubbery tossing them into the simmering brew. Once the thick bubbling liquid cooled the man let it flow into a jar like molasses and handed it to you.

“Find a way to make him drink it, it should start kicking in, in a couple hours.”

“T-thank you-

“Don’t thank me. And don’t come back to this place. I won’t answer.”

Had you been desperate? Yes. Had it been worth it? You didn’t know… Your fingers dug into the wood, nails creasing at how tightly you gripped the podium. You were counting in your head reaching as far as eight hundred fifty-five before the Judge cut off your clutch. It was but a miniscule change but you could see how the balding man rolled his eyes. The subtle movement had your heart plummeting to the pit of your belly. In that moment you could tell that he had already made his verdict and calling up the pro hero was just procedure.

“Mr. Takami.” The judge began. “I have heard the allegations you have made towards Ms. (Lastname), I would like you to recount the events. Please start with how you met.”

“Certainly your honor.” Keigo nodded. He cleared his throat, molten gold eyes meeting yours in a slitted glare.

“I was on patrol at the time, something my protegee and those of my agency can confirm. It was nearing the end of my shift and I was headed back when I saw…Ms.(Lastname).” He grimaced at the sound of your last name leaving his lips.

“The moment I saw her I took off in her direction.” The judge asked why, even though he had read up on the matter. “She was standing atop a building, Block twenty five, building six. I noticed by the way her body was being pushed by the wind that she had climbed over onto the ledge. A jumper is what I thought and I was there right as she stepped off.”

The room was quickly filled with incredulou susurrations. Keigo allowed the bystanders to control themselves before continuing. “I managed to catch her before she plummeted and hit the ground. At the time she was rabid, her nails dug into my skin, she tugged at my hair and bit me, as you can see from the images in the report. After a while she was left sobbing and after a small conversation I took her to the hospital and we found the right people to help her.”

“Is all of this true?” He looked to you for an answer.

“Yes your honor.” You whispered. You wanted to yell at Takami, shout at him for lying. It wasn’t just him catching you!? It was much more than that! He saved your life!? He gave you hope that life wasn’t meaningless and he cared enough to get you help, it wasn’t as emotionless as he described it was much more..intimate.

Regardless of your thoughts in the matter, Takami continued with his tale.

“A couple of weeks went by and I had forgotten about the incident.” He shrugged, the nonchalant tone was like being a bug and having someone squash and rotate their shoe on you. He spat on your feelings in his next confessions. “But then all of a sudden she showed up at my agency, I didn’t think much of it. She thanked me like someone normally would, offered to buy me dinner which I declined and left me a thank you card.”

‘That wasn’t how it happened..’ You fought the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He had been incredibly sweet with you, asked you how you were doing, he smiled like the sun when he gave you a hug congratulating you on your new will to live, he declined your proposal for dinner and promised. He promised, he said ‘Maybe some other time.’ You grit your teeth not wanting to lose your cool in front of everyone. ‘But at this rate…He’ll really get a restraining order.’

Sweat began to dot your back, your dress shirt clinging to your skin as you waited for the spell to kick in. However, Takami was showing no signs of being under the effects of the potion as he listed off every ‘offense’

“From there it only got worse, I began to see her everywhere. No matter where I went she was always shadowing me, She kept leaving me unwanted gifts, she got a hold of my email address and number, She found my personal address and broke into my house… “ He visibly shuddered before adding. “I had someone over one night and we had heard something, she was in my fucking closet-

“Language Mr. Takami.” The judge sighed. In the judge’s eyes you were just another overzealous fan, this case was nothing that he hadn’t heard.

“Objection.” Your lawyer called. The judge grunted allowing your lawyer to speak, he knew how this would play out- “Mr. Takami has lied, there is no evidence placing my client in his apartment at the times he has reported. Mr. Takami has also failed to produce said witness to testify that they did indeed see Ms. (Name) (Lastname).”

That was new… The judge furrowed his brows and looked at the reports on his desk once more. There was indeed no evidence….Odd. You looked at your ‘lawyer’ a discreet smile upon your lips, then you turned to look towards Hawks who glared at you. Unease set in your belly…’It wasn’t working..’ You dared another look at the blonde and saw that his steely gaze was set on your lawyer. Blood drained from your veins, only to be replaced by liquid nitrogen ‘Did he know!?’

“Y-Your honor.” Takami stuttered, a pained grimace on his face. “There also was an incident last night.”

The elderly man sat up straighter, intrigue bubbling in his irises.

“Ms. (Lastname)… Ms.. She.” An odd flush colored his cheeks, his wings puffed out like a blowfish as his breath quickened. A collective gasp was wrought out of everyone once his eyes rolled and he slumped over. There was a rush of people, colors swirled around you as the cacophony of chaos penetrated your ears. Your wrists were caught and you were quickly restrained, the officers on standby clearly finding his last statement to be indicative of foul play.

‘Slam!’

“Tell me what you did?!” The officer shouted in your face.

“I-I swear I didn’t do anything.” You stuttered. You quickly recalled what your ‘lawyer’ told you to say. “I swear my life on it that I only spoke with him, I apologized to him, I didn’t mean for my behavior to come across as ‘odd’.”

“Lies!” He shouted.

“I dunno man.” Another cop shrugged, crossing his arms as his brows furrowed in thought. “From all of our evidence it shows that she’s been on a good track, takes her meds, follows up with her therapist, hell there’s no proof of her even being near Hawks all the times he said she was…Then there’s also the matter of his reputation…”

The other man backed off his co-workers words seeming to resonate with him. “So you’re saying that….What if it’s the other way around?”

“Exactly!? What if she rejected him and this was his way of revenge?” The other added.

“Hmm it’s not that much of a stretch, he is a pro-hero after all.” He scoffed. “Is that what happened?” He asked you. You weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Y-Yes… I-I went that day to thank him and he flirted non-stop with me, then he started appearing everywhere, I told him I wasn’t interested in him like that, that I only wanted to thank him for saving me. The next thing I knew I was being brought down to the station and was shown a bunch of messages I didn’t type.” You whimpered. “I-I don’t get w-why he’s doing this.” You sniffed.

“That fucking bastard.” The man who had been shouting at you hissed.

“Fucking pro-heros!? They think they can do what ever the fuck they want!?” The other seethed. Once you were let go a grin crawled onto your face, they probably thought you hadn’t noticed but there was a red light coming off the camera.

The next hearing came a week later after Hawks had recovered from whatever happened. You had to thank the ‘witch doctor’ he did such a thorough job that even the top medical professionals were left baffled. Said man walked up next to you, he sat next to you and slid you over a note. ‘It’s done.’

“Done?” You whispered. You didn’t have to ponder it any longer as the blonde hero strolled by, his sunlight orbs glued to your frame as he sat down. He had his head bent at an owlish degree as he continued to bore his eyes into you….. It was slightly unnerving. You leaned over to adjust your shoes-

Bam!

The noise startled a yelp out of you and your wide eyes looked up to see Keigo, the palms of his hands had slammed down on the wood allowing paper to fall like scattered leaves. Angel curls of blonde shadowed vibrant gold as he looked down at you. It was then that you heard the voices commanding him to sit back down. He left albeit reluctantly to his seat…

That display along with the recording the police had presented crumbled his defense and when he was called to stand the foundations perished.

“It’s true.” He lied. “I made it all up. The truth is I fell in love with (Name) but she didn’t return my feelings and my pride got hurt. I apologize for inconveniencing you all.” The last words were but lip service and the judge set a price. It was obvious that he was getting off with a slap on the wrist but that was fine with you. In fact you refused the offer they made of you getting a restraining order against him clearly that was the last thing you wanted.

The spellman was gone as soon as you had collected your things from the court lockers, he left with a cryptic smile his last lines you had brushed off. “As if I’d regret this.” You scoffed, a smile on your lips as you caught Hawk’s gaze on you.

Your knuckles rasped against the wooden door aggressively. Your knuckles were raw, blood vessels popped, red streaks of your vital fluids seeping through. Tears dotted your waterline, the horrid liquid distorted your vision as you practically slammed your body against the door. Your voice was hoarse wrought with strenuous use.

“Please!?” You screeched feverishly. “Please let me in!?” You cried.

The rusting door gave way with a particularly harsh kick. Said kick set off pins and needles but the pain was drowned out by the relief of having the door open. You peered inside.

“No” You whispered. You recalled the man who sold you the potions words. ‘Don’t come back.’ “Fuck” You cried quickly turning to find somewhere else to hunker down. ‘If only I could get to a precinct!?’ You thought.

Your lungs burned, the sacs expanded in quick succession, they had been overworked and their production volume wasn’t nearly enough to fuel you. With every pant you lost momentum, with every pouding step your bones shook, but you couldn’t stop. No you wouldn’t even stop to ask for help even that could prove to be detrimental. ‘His eyes are sharp, too sharp he’ll spot me.’ You skid to the right tumbling into a narrow alley, it would be difficult for him to get through due to his wingspan.

As you caught your breath against the grimey wall you took a moment to think. ‘How the hell did it turn out like this?’ Everything was amazing, the effects of the potion were immediate, he asked you out at the speed of light, and soon you were going on blissfully sweet dates. He doted on you and fawned over you at every moment, you even took pride in the fact that he was neglecting his work for you. It made you feel special, loved.

You shared intimacy allowed him to get even more familiar with your body than even you were, it wasn’t even a month and you had moved in together, it was perfect. Until it wasn’t. Everyday.. Everyday or every minute or second he spent with you he’d fall more in love with you. It was becoming suffocating, he wouldn’t leave your side, his feathers glued to you at all hours of the day whether you were relieving yourself or watching clothes tumble and swirl in a washer.

He had to always be touching your skin, an arm, a hand, hell a pinkie, if your skin wasn’t in contact with his he’d go into panic, pupils shrunken to needle points as he panted and called for you. The jealousy was endearing in the beginning, but soon you weren’t allowed to let your gaze shift from him. You weren’t allowed to watch the actors on the T.V. You weren’t allowed to hear music because you only needed to hear his voice.

You could feel the hot tears streaming down your face as you stood in the dank cold alley. You only wanted him to at least spare you a glance, to give you a chance… You didn’t want whoever this person was. He looked like the angelic man you fell for but that was not him. Today you had taken the opportunity to run. His speech had become frightening, he spoke of gouging your eyes so that the ugly world didn’t taint your eyes, he spoke of having your beauty preserved for eternity. ‘The world doesn’t deserve you’ You could almost gag at the remembrance of those words.

“Baby bird!” You pressed yourself against the wall behind a dumpster hoping and praying that he wouldn’t spot you. “Birdey!?” He cried.

To any bystander he looked like a worried man calling out for his lover, hell he probably already spread that lie. You cringed when you heard a snipping sound, it was a habit he had picked up when he stressed over you, he bit his nails to the bed, even behind your clenched eyes you could see his wide yellow eyes watching you, thumb in his mouth as he watched you and thought. You covered your mouth, you were ready to erupt, hysteria was tugging at your heart and you wanted to give in and just scream.

You couldn’t hear him anymore. You breathed out a sigh of relief, he had gone to search elsewhere. You took a moment to think, ‘where do I go from here?’ You summarized that he was probably a block or two away. ‘If I go down block twenty-seven I can go into the club and borrow a phone.’ With a plan set you nodded and opened your eyes.

Gold.

A painful scream tore through your throat, his cattish eyes were glazed over a smile stretching his lips. His hands quickly shot out towards you, he wrapped his body around you, his heat more uncomfortable than the cold autumn air.

“I was so worried.” He breathed, you felt his tremors. “Why did you run away?”

“I-I wanted to-

“Don’t lie to me babybird.” His clipped tone froze you. “Are you trying to leave me?”

You shook your head. “O-of c-course not I-I love you K-Keigo why w-would I leave y-you?” Your voice wavered horrendously.

“I know.” He smiled, he rubbed his cheek to yours affectionately. He pulled back and his smile dipped. “But you don’t love me enough.”

The dark timbre had you squeaking out a choppy what. “I love you so so much more than you love me. And that hurts, it hurts so much… Why can’t you understand that I just want you to know that.”

“I- T-the way you love me is scary Keigo.” You dared to whisper.

“No it’s not!” He shouted, his grip becoming tight enough to make you wince. “I love you, I love you, I love you so so damn much that I don’t want you to think or anyone else, I don’t want you to see anyone else, I don’t want you to hear anyone else, I want to be your whole world like you are my world.”

“I-I know-

“No you don’t!” He screamed. “You don’t know because you keep trying to leave and put distance between us! You don’t listen to me and you keep on looking at things! You keep hearing other people’s voices when it should only be me! Why won’t you let it be me?” His voice cracked near the edges and your eyes looked around frantically, you were desperate to find a way to defuse him.

“K-Keigo look I-

“I hate you.” Your jaw dropped. “I love you so much I fucking hate you (Name).” You couldn’t understand, but you were powerless to stop his next course of action. He tackled your body into him and shot up to the sky, bloody plumage fell down around you as he flew above ropes and powerlines till he was above the cracks of the building. Fearing for your life you clung to him, surprise filling your being when he landed on a building. A very eerily familiar building.

“It was here that we met.” He mumbled hugging you to his chest tightly. “It’s only fitting that we depart here too.”

“K-keigo m-my love what-” He pressed his cool finger to your lips, your words wouldn’t change his mind.

“You don’t love me enough to call me that, and remember I established that I hate you.” He chuckled.

You looked around your eyes catching sight of his watch, you needed to stall. ‘If he’s thinking what I think he’s thinking then he’s going to do whatever it is at the exact time I jumped a year ago.’ When you were going to end your life last year you calculated it so that the janitor of this building would find your note in no less than five minutes. You had wanted him to lean over and see your distorted body. And now the janitor, that Ex you were going to kill yourself for was your only hope….

“W-why do you hate me?” You asked softly, your eyes hard on the hands of the clock. You prayed to every deity above hoping that he didn’t hear the rapid pitter patter of your heart.

“Because… You’re too cruel, I just want your love to the same degree that you have mine, but I can see that I’ll never have it. And I hate that. I hate that you’re causing me so much pain.”

“I c-can love you like that if you want.” You gulped.

“ You’re lying.” He sighed, the puff of air sounded like that of a parent in disappointment of their child. “You’re waiting for someone who isn’t even alive to come in and drag you out of my arms.”

“….”

“You know…” He stood up with you, and you struggled in his hold as he walked you towards the ledge. “I’ve stayed awake for night on end wondering, I wonder when was it that I started feeling this way? Why? It’s all a mystery to me and it irks me heh… I guess that’s another thing I hate about you… I hate that I don’t know why I love you so much.”

The wind cut into your face as you looked down. Keigo grabbed your face squishing your cheeks together. “After I do this I’m going to turn myself in and make sure they end me, even though I hate you I can’t imagine living without you.”

“Wait please!” You shouted, you weren’t ready to give up just yet.

“No more word-

“Shut up and listen!” you hissed. You felt him tense behind you. You hadn’t even spoken to him in such a nasty tone. “Yes you’re right! You don’t love me.”

“But I do so mu-”

“No you don’t!” You were openly crying now, snot running down the tip of your nose. “It’s all a lie! You really hate me and you should! I.. I gave you a love potion a couple months ago.”

“Wha…” Keigo froze, a million thoughts rushing in his head.

“It’s true…” You whispered “And I’m sorry.” A rush of emotion filled him, love, hate, loathing, disgust, remorse, doubt and in the heat of it:

He pushed you.

#yandere hawks x reader #yandere hawks #yandere takami keigo #yandere keigo x reader #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #tw: suidice

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wenevergotusedtoegypt · 3 years

Text

It has been a DAY, let me tell you people

After waiting for almost an hour after our appointment time at the pediatrician we finally got in and had the pleasant surprise of actually getting to see my son’s doctor instead of another doctor at the practice, he promptly diagnosed the ear infection and wrote a prescription for antibiotics, great.

Normally we use a pharmacy that delivers, but when the prescription came through shortly afterwards, they had no delivery windows open til tomorrow afternoon. Which like...no, not waiting that long to start antibiotics. This actually happened to me a different time, also with antibiotics, and that time I called customer service and they were able to squeeze me in that day. So I decided it was worth a shot trying that again.

They were not able to do that this time, so they offered to transfer the prescription to a different pharmacy so we could get it today. I gave them the information for the closest pharmacy to us, which was a mistake, because I should have KNOWN something would go wrong. At least some small minor thing has ALWAYS gone wrong every time I’ve used that pharmacy, which is why I stopped using it and switched to this other one. But we had a cranky as heck toddler to deal with, and going further out of our way to a different pharmacy seemed inadvisable.

That was all in the car on the way home. After we got home, my husband went to do some errands near that pharmacy and stopped in to see if they had the prescription yet. They told him to come back at 5:00. This was about 3:15.

At 5:00 I called the pharmacy. I said, “Hi, I have a prescription that was being transferred to you and I wanted to see if it was received yet.” The woman asked for the date of birth, which I gave her, and the last name, which I gave her. She said, “Yes, I see it, it came in today.” I said, “Great, when will it be ready?” She said that it has to be mixed so I said ok, when will that be done, and she clarified that it has to be mixed at the time of pickup so whenever we come to pick it up they will mix it and it will take about 5 minutes for it to be ready.

At about 5:45 my husband showed up at the pharmacy to pick up the prescription and was told they did not have it. One of the employees claimed that I called and asked about the specific medication, and coincidentally they had just received a different prescription for the same medication, but I never gave my son’s DOB or name and so they didn’t realize it wasn’t for him (which was framed as my fault). Which, first of all, if that had been what happened, that still would have been a screwup on their part? You should not confirm that you have received a particular patient’s prescription without finding out who the patient is?? But also, it’s not what happened. It played out exactly as I wrote above. I DID give his DOB and name and I DID NOT ask about the medication by name, mostly because I do not frickin know how to pronounce it so why would I try.

Anyway my husband keeps trying to talk to various staff for a while and Pharmacist 1 (of 2, to be relevant later in the story) then adds to the story to be that they have been trying to get in touch with the original pharmacy and have not been able to and that my husband should call them. So my husband calls the first pharmacy and they say that they left a voicemail for this pharmacy, which Pharmacist 1 says was not received. Pharmacist 1 then proceeds to give the other pharmacy a completely different phone number than the one publicly available for this pharmacy.

My husband waits a bit longer and then Pharmacist 1 tells him that he needs to call back the first pharmacy because they haven’t done some administrative mumbo jumbo with the prescription that would allow it to go through with the insurance. By this point it is after 6pm and the first pharmacy is closed. Pharmacist 1 tells my husband there is simply nothing they can do today.

By this point I was flaming mad and in full mama bear mode because my husband had been telling me about the whole thing and I couldn’t believe the way they’d lied about my 5pm call and were taking zero responsibility for things (if they had told me at 5pm that they didn’t have the prescription, we would have had 45 extra minutes to sort it out with the first pharmacy, but no, I was told we could walk in anytime and walk out 5 minutes later with the medication). I was also staring at a second night in a row of basically no sleep with a toddler in pain taking up half my bed thanks to this incompetence. So I grabbed my son and ran out of the house with him, met my husband halfway to hand off the toddler so I wouldn’t have to take him into an enclosed public space, and headed into the pharmacy.

At this point I had no hope that we were going to actually get the antibiotic today, but I wanted them to own up to the fact that they screwed up and at least make some attempt at rectifying the issue (like, “we’ll get on this first thing when we open tomorrow morning and call you the moment it’s ready” or something along those lines). Now, there were 5 staff in this pharmacy, 4 of whom could theoretically have answered the phone per their positions. Of those 4, 2 were men and so definitely did not tell me at 5:00 that they had my prescription, and 2 were women. One woman had a heavy accent. It was not her who I spoke to. So I basically 100% knew when I walked in the door who was responsible for this issue (this is not a place that has a zillion staff running around, and they close at 7, so it wasn’t a new shift from 5:00).

I waited in line and when I got to the front, to the woman who told me at 5:00 that they had the prescription, I said, “Hi, my husband was just here asking about a prescription for my son and I need to follow up with someone about what happened.” This woman acted like she had no idea what situation was being referred to even though my husband had left maybe 10 minutes ago max, and politely requested my son’s information like it was the first time she was dealing with it. She then told me they did not have his prescription. When I related the 5:00 call (without letting on that I knew I’d spoken to her - and now I was even more sure because I recognized her voice), she just said she didn’t know who I’d talked to but they didn’t have it, and refused to take any responsibility either personally or institutionally for what I’d been told.

At that point, Pharmacist 1 jumped in and related the same story she’d told my husband and told me that she couldn’t fill a prescription that she didn’t have. I told her that I understood that at this point it seemed we were not getting the prescription tonight, but what I wanted to address was the fact that I was told at 5pm that I could walk in and walk out 5 minutes later with my son’s medication and now he was going to start his antibiotics a day late. She continued to tell me over and over that she couldn’t fill a prescription she didn’t have, no matter how many times I reiterated that what I wanted was not for her to do that, but for the pharmacy to just take responsibility for the fact that they screwed up and because of that my toddler was going to have to suffer an extra night. This kept going back and forth with no headway being made, just getting more and more heated, until she got sick of talking to me and handed me off to Pharmacist 2. With whom I initially proceeded to have the exact same exchange of “we can’t fill a prescription we don’t have” “I’m not asking you to do so, I just want to speak to someone who will take responsibility for what happened here” “well we can’t fill a prescription we don’t have” “I KNOW I AM NOT GETTING THIS PRESCRIPTION TONIGHT, I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR WHAT HAPPENED AND RECTIFY IT”

....and then suddenly he’s like, “well if you just give me the doctor’s name and number, I can try to get the doctor to send a new prescription directly to us.” OH. OKAY. IS THERE SOME REASON THIS IDEA DID NOT OCCUR TO ANYONE BEFORE I HAD TO DRAG MYSELF OVER HERE AND TAKE THE TIME TO YELL AT ALL OF YOU??? Like, you know, when my husband was there?? I don’t actually enjoy yelling at pharmacy staff or just at people in general! This is not a thing I go around doing! In fact, I had never done it before and if the medication were for anyone other than my sick small child I probably still wouldn’t have! And apparently you had this super sensible, doable, easy solution the whole time but we had to go through all of this crap and me making a giant scene* to get there??

7 minutes later they have the prescription and 8 minutes after that I’m walking out the door with the medication. 🤦🏻‍♀️Pharmacist 1 rang me up at the register and told me that it was ok that I yelled at her because she would have done the same thing for her child in my shoes. People. We didn’t even need to do this!!! You literally could have just called the doctor when my husband was there without my ever setting foot on your awful premises! Why!!!!!!

Anyway then I FINALLY got home and my son was a cranky, exhausted, snotty-faced mess and we still had to actually get him to take the medication, which did not go well. I’m not sure how much he actually swallowed. Really need to figure out a new strategy going forward, but he has no appetite so mixing it into something is unlikely to work. So I asked for advice in a group and while I did get some workable suggestions to try, I also had a rando stranger ask me why he was prescribed antibiotics, as if perhaps her judgment might be that they were not necessary depending on the reason and perhaps I might weigh that more heavily than our literal doctor 🙃(I responded that he was prescribed them because our doctor deemed it necessary)

*my husband’s friend, who knows me as a relatively quiet, calm, and collected individual, was in the pharmacy for the duration of this encounter and I’m sure he was like WHAT THE HECK who knew she yelled like this??

#really more than a day it's been a few days #in conclusion if this ever happens again we are going however far we have to go to use a different pharmacy #🙃#and it's a good thing we're going out 2/4 yontiff meals because today was supposed to be my main prep day #and i did exactly zero cooking #and my husband has class from 9-5 tomorrow

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