#how dare i claim my friends are lying

[a-pirate]

I think one of my worst traits is not believing people. Thinking "they're just saying that and don't mean it."

[a-spes]

| DEVIOUS LIES — Part two (8.790 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, toxic relationship (OCxR), revenge porn, use of drugs.

| Author's notes — I don't know how I feel about that second part, i'm not sure i like it, but now it's written it costs me nothing to share. So here we are. I can just hope that I managed to convey, at least a little, the emotions I wanted to. And, most importantly, take care of yourself.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

Almost a year has gone by, and it means one thing: in a few weeks, it’s going to be Natasha's birthday, again. The woman is not sure how she feels about it. She never really had a birthday before she joined the Avengers, and despite the years that have passed since, she still feels a certain awkwardness at this time of the year. Especially as the boys tended to do too much.

She could only pretend to match their enthusiasm. A slight smile spreads across her face as she takes a sip from her drink, staying silent. She has been listening to her teammates talking about her birthday’s party for almost half an hour now. She stopped trying to avoid it a long time ago, when she realized how much they enjoyed organizing this stupid party. She can deal with anything they’re going to come up with if she gets to see their smiles in exchange. Her sentence won’t last more than a few hours, but the memories are going to stick with them for eternity, and it has no price.

"Wait, you know what?” someone asked. It was Clint, and by the mischievous smile on his face, the redhead already knew that she wouldn't appreciate the next words that are going to come out of his mouth. “I think we should have the mascot come over again," he added, his eyes not leaving hers. "What? It was funny to have a cartoon version of you running around," he defended himself when he saw her glance darkening.

"You know what? Do whatever you want," she mumbled, “it’s not as if you were asking for my opinion anyway,” she eventually gave in. Sometimes, you have to know how to pick your battles, and that is one she definitely cannot win, not when all the others seem to appreciate the idea.

"That’s such a great idea!” one exclaimed, and this time it was Peter Parker, “Mr. Stark, do you think they would accept to come again?” he asked the man.

"Obviously!" Tony replied without an ounce of hesitation, laughing at the question. The man thought it was a stupid thing to ask, "she likes you too much to miss your birthday,” he explained, pointing at the redhead while saying those words. "What? She pretends it’s not true, but I know she is lying. I can see right through her and, believe me, she’ll be here,"  he explained when he noticed the confused looks of his teammates.

"Who’s she?" a voice asked, cutting short to Tony’s rambling. That’s the question that has been on everyone’s minds, but that no one dared to ask out loud, except for one of them — And it hasn’t been Natasha, it is Steve that spoke first.

On the contrary, the woman remained silent because she didn’t need words to express herself, a silent conversation taking place between the billionaire and her through a simple glance. Even if she already has her suspicions, and is almost sure that she knows the answer to that question, she wants him to say it, refusing to believe it otherwise.

The moment she saw the box, she was intrigued by it, something drawing the woman to the small package that no one claimed as theirs. It’s almost as if it came out of nowhere, no one knowing who left it here, or what may be inside the black box. At first, she thought it was some joke, but she knew they were being honest when saying they had nothing to do with the gift. And if she had expected a lot of things to be wrapped in the red ribbon, she definitely wasn’t ready for a ghost from her past to emerge from it.

A quick glance before she suddenly closes the box again, that’s all it took for the redhead to know who was behind that gift. The only thing she could think about was how — How did it happen without any of them noticing your presence? Despite the appearances, and the smile she was trying to keep on, the woman was shaken — Why would you do that, more than two years after your break up? Could it be that you are that desperate?

"Is everything okay?" Clint asked, being the only one to seem to notice a change in Natasha’s behavior. At least, everyone had enough restraint to not ask the question that burns their lips — What’s inside the box?

She wouldn’t have answered if one of them had asked. She wouldn’t even have opened the gift if she had known that it was from you, and that’s probably why you left it on the table, avoiding giving it to her directly. Smart girl, she thought. At first sight, the woman couldn’t tell it was coming from you but there was no doubt remaining once she saw the content — There is only one person on Earth that cares enough to give her such a gift. A person that constantly looks after her, guessing what the redhead wasn’t telling.

A person that she used to love. 

A person that couldn’t be here, was she? The woman can’t help but glance around but she can’t find your face. What was she expecting anyway? To see you in the corner of the room with a bright smile and your arms open for her to throw herself in a hug? That was stupid, and so is the hint of hope she felt when she opened the box. The others told her many times she has to turn the page, but she doesn’t seem ready to let you go. Even after two years, she is still craving your presence as much as before.

The thought of it puts to shame the redhead who knows she shouldn’t hold on to the past, especially when the past in question has a pretty face and breaks her heart. Even after what you’ve done to her, she has spent hours crying, praying for you to come back. Even after listening to the others assuring her that she deserves better, she couldn’t forget how you’ve always been the most caring, and strong, and beautiful person she has ever met in her life. 

You weren’t horrible. Were you? 

Sometimes, she thinks you are a monster. 

Sometimes, she thinks she is, for not listening to you that day. 

That day, she let her anger speak for her, something she swore she would never do again. When she started to realize that, maybe, she should’ve listened to your version of the events, it was too late. At the time, she couldn’t bear to hear the sound of your voice or see your voice, but after two years, as the memory of it starts to fade away, she surprised herself to miss it. 

Except that Fury had refused to tell her where you were. She tried to ask nicely, to beg, and even to threaten the man, but none of it worked. He said that you needed time, that you’ll be back when you are ready, not before. Despite her frustration, the woman accepted it. After all, she is the one to blame, the one that puts herself in such a situation. She could only hold on to the fact that, one day, you’ll be back. Right? As the days go by, the likelihood of ever seeing you again is gradually diminishing. Some nights, when she can’t sleep, she stays up, eyes fixed on her laptop’s screen — Maybe she could give fate a helping hand? She knows she could find you easily. Yet, despite her urge to do it, she has always ended up closing her laptop without starting the research. 

She has to trust Fury, she repeats to herself. Even if she sometimes disagrees with the man, even if it’s frustrating, she has to believe him when he says that you are safe.

Some other nights, all she can feel is anger, and hatred. The redhead is lost, and scared, again, something she never thought she would feel again the day you two met. What if it was true, and you really cheated on her? Then, you could do it again if she forgives you, because history always repeats itself, and you are no exception to the rules of the universe. She knows how people tend to promise a lot of things that they don’t mean, especially when they are desperate, which is exactly what you’ve been that day. She couldn’t forget the look on your face when she dragged you out of the building, the despair in those bright eyes, glistening with tears. This is the only thing she can remember when she thinks about you. Not the good moments you’ve shared, only the brutality of the end of your relationship. 

You've abandoned her, and so did she.

It has been three since she last saw you, and almost a year since her birthday party, but the woman couldn’t stop thinking about it. She didn’t take the gift, leaving the jewelry in the box, and the box on a shelf. She hasn't touched it since. How could she when just the sight of it was already too much to bear?

Every day, when she wakes up, it is one of the first things she sees, and one of the last when she goes to sleep. If it doesn’t feel right to the woman to take the gift, it doesn’t feel right to throw it in the bin either, so it stayed here as a constant reminder of what she has done. Every time she thinks she is finally over it, the box rekindles her doubts. There are some things she can’t quite understand about the situation, and why you would give her such a gift, two years after she kicked you out, is one of them.

Maybe it was a poisoned gift. Maybe it was a sick trick to make her feel guilty, a way to get her to crawl back to you. Beside these possibilities, she couldn’t think of any others that were likely, and she was afraid to admit that your plan was working. The box was a permanent reminder of your existence, something she couldn’t get herself to give away because of those dumb feelings she was experiencing. Somehow, she was holding on to that last piece of your years together after she threw away everything else with the help of the team.

The pictures, the clothes, the gifts, even your favorite cutlery has been burned a few days after you left them. It is almost as if you’ve never stepped a foot into the building, as if you’ve never existed. The woman was fine with the idea of pretending that nothing happened — She was fine with the idea of erasing every remaining part of your relationship.

Except that black box. It is stupid how she hangs onto that last proof of the relationship she once had with you. She had burned everything, but she couldn’t get herself to do the same with that gift. Maybe because she knew that she could never erase you completely from her life. She surely could pretend, it is a game she is really good at, but you would always be on the back of her mind because memories don't go away as easily as objects do.

Since she had opened the box, doubt had been creeping inside of her — What if? What if she has been wrong the whole time? What if she should have listened to you? Give you a second chance? That day, her reaction had been dictated by anger and hatred, feelings that still inhabit her soul, but have faded over the years. For two years, she had been sure that she made the right choice — At least, that’s what everyone kept telling the woman, and she listened to their comforting words.

But since she opened the box, she was no longer sure of anything. She wasn’t the one that wanted you gone in the first place. She surely needed a bit of space before being able to talk with you properly, but only a few days, maybe a few weeks, not two years, and definitely not more than that. That little box only worsened her doubt because who would be desperate enough to still cling to the person they betrayed, years after the events? A person truly in love. She had kept her doubts for herself before that day. If she is almost sure of the identity of the person who gave her the box, because there is only one person on that planet that cares enough to gift her something so meaningful, there are still a lot of questions to which she doesn’t have the answers — For example, how did you manage to sneak into the building without everyone knowing? She now knows that someone knew the whole time.

“Tell me,” she firmly asked the man, leaving little room for discussion.

No one pointed out the thing he has said about the mascot, the subject of the conversation quickly changed after that. Except, while they were talking about which flavor the cake should be, Natasha could think of nothing but Tony’s words — “She likes you too much to miss your birthday”, “she pretends it’s not true but I know she is lying.” So when everyone eventually decided to go back to their rooms, around two in the morning, she stayed a bit longer in the common room in hope of getting some information.

“Sorryy, I can’t, I don’t know anything,” the man replied, indifferent to her tone, “anything at all,” he repeated, chuckling like a child who has done something wrong. 

The woman sighs, pinching her nose as she takes a deep breath, trying to not lash out her frustration on the man. The conversation isn���t exactly going the way she had hoped, Tony refusing to answer her question no matter how many times she has already asked. She even tried to blackmail him, but he was persistent in pretending that he didn’t know anything. When he almost falls on the ground trying to get a few steps back, it has been the last straw for the woman. Gladly, someone entered the room before she could hit him so hard that it would have sobered him in an instant.

"Is everything okay?" the voice asked, and both of them immediately shut up to turn their heads toward the woman who just entered the room, Astrid. She is leaning in the doorway, her gaze alternating between Tony and Natasha.

She hates her. Not as much as she hates you, but she still feels resentful toward the agent. When she smiles, when she speaks, even when she is just here, existing, the woman can’t help but hate her from the depths of her heart. Gladly, she rarely sees her, as an agent of the S.H.I.E.L.D., she is only around when they have outstanding missions. If Natasha had a choice, she would’ve thrown her away with you that day. 

"She wants me to admit that her girlfriend was the one in the costume," he immediately replied, "but sshht, we can’t let her know that!" he added, holding his index finger in front of his mouth for a few seconds before leaving the room giggling. 

"I know what happened," she eventually said when she noticed that Natasha was about to leave after a few seconds when they glanced at each other in silence. "Th- That night, in the motel room~," she added, her voice being hesitant. Those words made the redhead stop in her tracks.

"If you're about to rub in my face how you've ruined my life, you can shut up," she immediately cut her, not wanting to listen to the woman, not if it’s to tell her about how she fucked the woman she loves. Her voice was full of anger, just like the murderous look in her eyes. The only thing that prevented the woman from immediately leaving the room was the thing she saw in the other’s eyes. Her attitude betrayed her emotions, a mix of guilt, sadness, and shame, which aroused her curiosity. 

With a nod, she ordered her to continue.

That morning, as many others, you are woken up by your girlfriend’s gentle touches, her fingers slowly tracing circles on your stomach. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips before your turn around, nuzzling your head further into the crook of her neck.

How could you have known it would be the last time? How could you have possibly guessed that the routine you’ve got used to would be broken so quickly?

Every morning, it is the same thing, and while the former spy has no problems getting up early, you definitely can’t say the same for yourself. She is always awake before you are and, even if she had never admitted it, you are sure that she takes a few minutes to observe your sleeping form. She loves seeing you so peaceful and calm, being able to have a glimpse of your face without those worry lines, without the marks of your anxieties. 

She is always the one who wakes you up, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. There is no better way to start a day than Natasha’s sweet words and caresses. It’s her fault if you never want to get out of bed, wishing every morning that you could stay in that bed, next to her, for the rest of your life. Sometimes, you suggest that you tell the others you are sick, just to spend a day together, but she just laughs, dismissing your idea.

But all the good things must come to an end, right?

"It's time to get up, milaya," she softly said in your ear, her breath tickling your skin, "Astrid won't be happy if you are late again," she added when the only answer you gave her was a groan of discontent.

"They won't say anything if I am late once, it's okay", you mumbled, her words not being enough to convince you to leave the comfort of her arms. 

Especially when you realize that there is nothing to get excited about the day ahead of you, in perspective, only hours spent in an office, listening to men who think they know everything better than you do. Today, you are supposed to attend an important meeting alongside Astrid, and you still don’t know why you volunteered. The thought of the paperwork and the efforts that you will have to put in pretending that you are actually happy to be here definitely don’t worth your pay.

Except that you’ve lied to Natasha, and she knows it. This is definitely not the first time that you are being late, it happens almost every day, to the point that the day you are in time can probably be counted on your hands. Gladly, when you are coming in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters, it's Astrid who’s your supervisor, and she appears to also be your best friend. Most of the time, she is kind enough to accept to close her eyes on your delays. Today, you came in only ten minutes late, and the woman was somehow impressed, expecting you to be later than that.

“You’re late, again,” she replied, obviously waiting for an excuse that you don't have. She would know if you are lying to her, and you don't have the energy for that kind of game today, and you could see that the woman neither. She was starting to get tired of every day starting with the same bullshit coming from your mouth.

“I am so, so, sorry,” you said to her for what may be the tenth time since you’ve entered the office. She is walking fast, and you are trying to catch up with the black-haired woman, who is also your superior within the S.H.I.E.L.D. “Please, don’t tell Fury,” you begged, but all she did was roll her eyes, and give you a file when you eventually reached her office. You quickly glanced at it before closing it again, your attention focused on the woman, “Astrid, I am serious. He is going to give me more paperwork if you do. Or worse. Imagine if he forces me to train the new recruits, you know I can’t do that again. Please, …,” you added, looking at her imploringly.

“And what do I have in exchange?” she sighed, turning around to look at you, one eyebrow raised. Despite her serious expression, you know she was trying to not laugh. She may be your boss, but above all she is your friend, and you both know that she would never tell Fury about your delays. Even if she has threatened you to do so a few times in the past, she has never actually done it. Yet, this time she felt like she needed something in exchange, she had covered for you enough time for free, and you were happy to thank your friend with whatever she may want.

“Anything you want!” you replied, desperate but no less honest. 

“Tonight, after work, you pay me a drink, deal?” she asked after pretending to think for a few seconds. In reality, she already knew what she wanted from you. She has thought about asking you out since the moment you met, something you’ve never noticed, always reducing her to the role of a friend, and not keeping up on the clues she was leaving you. Tonight, however, she will be clearer than she has ever been.

“Deal!” you immediately said, accepting the proposal without thinking twice about it. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much. You are the best," you added, kissing your friend on the cheek before leaving the room quickly, a sight that made the woman chuckle.

It is a deal that makes you both happy. You have met Astrid at the Academy, when you were both trainees that dreamed of joining the S.H.I.E.L.D. without even knowing if you were good enough for that. The two of you quickly became close — That’s the kind of thing that happens where you are the only two females of your promotion. Either you hate each other over your dead bodies, or you grow so close that you become inseparable. 

Except that, since you've both achieved your dreams and joined S.H.I.E.L.D, something changed in your relationship. It wasn’t your fault, nor hers, that you had less time to see each other, your jobs taking a lot of your time and energy. Then you've been assigned on a long-term mission with the Avengers, and you’ve spent less time at the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters despite still working for the organization. Then you've met Natasha, and you feel like you’ve slightly grown apart from each other after you’ve announced to her your new relationship. On the whole, you had less time to spend with your best friend, and the promises to make up for the lost time have never been kept, not until today. That deal was the perfect occasion to spend a bit of time together outside of the office work.

You both really hoped that this night would make things back as they were before.

"You know, I love her," she confessed to the redhead, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she felt tears filling her eyes. "Since the day we met, I have loved her. That's what I told her, that night, when we went out," she admitted, and Natasha felt her heart pounding in her chest, her hands were shaking with apprehension, “but she rejected me. She loves you so much, too much," she sadly chuckled, but the redhead felt no relief when she heard those words because they were not explaining the pictures. She can't cry, not now, not in front of that woman.

"Continue," she ordered, feeling that the woman had more to say than that. She already knew that Astrid loved you, you may be the only one that hadn't seen it, or maybe you were pretending, or maybe you were blinded by your love for Natasha.

"I didn't plan to do that, you know," she started, carefully looking at the spy, "but I was so desperate that night, and I-," she said, except she was unable to finish her sentence, the words stuck in her throat.

The past three years, she had kept the truth a secret. At first, she thought it was better that way. The woman was ashamed of her actions, and she was relieved when heard that you’ve been transferred to another department, and she thought that her secret would be safe. Except that, if everyone acted as if you’ve never existed, her mind didn’t allow her to forget. Every hour of every day, you were in her mind, and the longer she thought about that night, the biggesther guilt became, until the burden was too heavy to bear. Tonight, hearing them argue about you, has been the last straw.

“What did you do?” she asked, sensing that something was wrong. She didn’t like the feeling that was creeping inside of her, “what. did. you. do.?” she asked once again, but more firmly that time, when the other didn’t immediately answer her question. As she saw the hesitation, she reduced the distance between them in a second, her hand gripping the collar of Astrid’s shirt that she pins to the wall abruptly, “tell me. Now,” she insisted as the interaction only reinforced the bad feeling she had.

That morning, unlike the others, you woke up alone. There haven’t been the gentle caresses of your girlfriend to wake you up, nor her sweet words to coax you into getting up. No, that day, it was only yourself, draped into the cold sheets, and it felt so strange, the silence and the loneliness of the room. Sadly, it has not been the exception you’ve wished it would be, but only the first of too many mornings like that.

In the sleepy state you were in, it took you a few seconds to realize that something was wrong, and almost a minute before you noticed that you weren’t home. You couldn’t even recognize the place you were in, only knowing that it looked like a hotel, a shitty one if you might say. The room was small, simple, and not-so-comfortable. There was something in the ambience that gave you an uneasy feeling about the whole thing, but you were unable to say what it was exactly.

Your head is throbbing, and you are definitely feeling nauseous, but you know that’s not the problem. Your physical distress isn’t the cause of the weight on your chest, the one that makes your breath aching, it’s something else that your mind can’t comprehend yet. It’s all these inconsistencies. The missing memories of last night, the unknown room, the fact that you are alone,... you don’t remember drinking that much last night. You may not be the most responsible person that planet has known, but you know how to handle yourself. Usually. 

Could you have possibly drunk that much? 

The day has barely started, but you already know it is going to be a rough one. If only you knew how right you were, maybe you would have taken a few more hours of sleep, enjoying the comfortable peace of your old life a bit longer before joining the chaos. Yet, you had no means to guess that your day would go that way. 

It's a note left on the bedside table that answered all your questions, easing some of the worries that were creeping inside of you. Someone has written the following words : “Couldn’t get you home because of how drunk you were. don’t worry about being late today, I won’t tell Fury. however, had to go on a mission, be careful when you go home. I left you a bit of money, it should be enough to pay for the room and an Uber. Love you.” The message might not have been signed, but you can easily recognize Astrid’s handwriting. A smile spreads across your lips as you are reassured, the situation not being as bad as your mind made it look.

Some memories of last night flew back in your mind, but it’s only a glimpse of what happened, a lot of the events staying unknown to yourself. The last thing you can remember is the conversation you had with Astrid, when she admitted that she loved you and you replied that you too, thinking she meant as friends because you couldn’t see her any other way, not when you were already engaged in a relationship. The rest of the exchange is confused, and you are not sure what’s real and what has been made up by alcohol. Even today, you are still not sure. 

Maybe you’ve really drunk too much that night.

Knowing that you’ve been with Astrid the whole time was reassuring, and you are no longer as bothered by the absence of memories. For a moment, you thought you'd been kidnapped by some weird man. As you regain your composure, your thoughts become clearer and you decide that the first thing you should do is to send a message to your girlfriend. She must be so worried, and your heart aches at the thought that you might be a source of problem for the woman you love.

It is not your kind to not keep your promises, and you’ve told her you would be home last night. It is not your kind either to not answer her messages or calls. In reality, you are quite the opposite, always sending her hundreds of messages when you are out with your friends. The only reason she hasn’t got after you is because she knew you were with Astrid, and she trusted you. However, the sweet messages are going to have to wait because, when you try to turn your phone on, you only encounter a black screen, a sign that you’ve run out of battery. Obviously, your friend didn’t think to leave you a charger.

You sigh, admitting your defeat. Shaking your phone surely won’t change the situation. For the moment, there is nothing more you can do, except hoping that Natasha won’t be too angry. As you are getting ready, your mind is focused on how to earn the redhead’s forgiveness — Maybe you could stop to buy her some flowers? You hate it, when the two of you are arguing. It doesn’t happen a lot, but it’s never pretty, and the mere thought that it might happen was already hurting.

As you definitely couldn’t go back to the compound by yourself, not knowing how far you were and being in a pitiful state, you decided to use the money left by Astrid to call a cab, as she instructed you to do. It’s not before you enter the car that you realize how late you actually were. It is almost one in the afternoon, and if you are not an early riser, like your girlfriend who is always up by six at the latest, you rarely get up after ten.

It has been a thirty minutes drive back to the compound, and the whole time you were thinking about two things: taking a shower, and leaning into your girlfriends’ arms. You are so exhausted, physically and mentally, that you’ve decided to skip work today — You were already so late that it wouldn’t make a big difference anyway. The journey was long, and those thirty minutes felt like hours. 

Soon enough, you started to suffocate into your own mind, then skin. You felt so sweaty, and dirty, that it quickly became unbearable. Maybe it was the effects of the alcohol, or maybe because you’ve slept in a seedy motel, but the only thing you wanted was to get rid of the clothes you were wearing and the uncomfortable state you were in as soon as possible.

When you enter the compound, you find it empty, and so is the room you are sharing with the woman. If you frown, you don’t think much about it. If the building is rarely empty, it sometimes happens when emergencies are called. A whine escapes your lips as you realize that, if it’s true, they are going to be mad at you for not being here when they needed it. You can already feel your mind losing itself to self-hatred thoughts, as you mutter to yourself how stupid you are. You are going to need more than a few flowers to earn their forgiveness. The fact that JARVIS confirmed that everyone was at the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s quarters didn’t, you would have preferred to hear that they went to the restaurant without you rather than that.

Tears brimming your eyes, you quickly put your phone to charge. It is only when you get out of the shower, twenty minutes later, that you saw the missed calls and messages from Natasha. The most recent ones were sent a few minutes ago. There were too many of them for you to take time to read everything so you just sent her a quick text that said: “sorry, my battery was dead, and I couldn’t answer your calls. I’ll explain everything, I promise. see you soon. love you.” A message she saw but she didn’t answer, which is unusual and an obvious hint of how angry she probably is.

Despite your decision to not work today, you still end up in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters. You are almost running in the corridors, going to the meeting room where you find your girlfriend, and the rest of the Avengers. When you stumble into the room, a deadly silence descends. None of them greeted you, and the only reaction you got was Fury’s nod when you started mumbling excuses for your late arrival. While your eyes immediately landed on the redhead, she didn’t glance at you once of the entire meeting. The sight made your heart sink. You love her, but you have to admit that the spy is scary when she has that stern expression on her face, one that leaves no room for discussion.

The safest decision was to sit on the furthest chair, leaving her space until you get the opportunity to explain yourself. Something that you hadn't had a chance to do before a few more hours, when you stumbled into her in the corridors. You have been lost in your mind, having a hard time focusing on your work. Earlier, when the meeting ended, she immediately left the room, not leaving you a chance to exchange a word with her, and it has been bugging you since.

“Please, wait,” you said, already begging the woman. When she heard your voice, she stopped, allowing you to gently grab at her arm so she didn't go. She could, if she wanted to, and a part of her did want to run away, but the rest of her knows that this conversation can’t be avoided. “Listen, I- I am sorry,” you started once you were sure she was willing to listen to your excuses, “I should have warned you, but I couldn’t, my phone’s battery was dead and, and- honestly? I don't remember much of what happened last night. All I know is that once was enough. It won't happen again,” you chuckled sadly. When you woke up that morning, you promised to yourself that it was the last time you drank that much. A promise you kept, and three years later, you still haven’t touched a bottle of alcohol. “I promise, 'tasha. Please, don't be mad at me for that, or at least tell me how I can make up for my mistake,” you said, and the woman knew she had heard enough.

“Seriously?” she scoffed, breaking free of your grip. “I can’t believe you are that stupid,” she said, as she started to walk away. But if she didn’t want to hear the sound of your voice any more, you, however, weren’t done yet.

"I know I’ve made a mistake, but I am fine, isn’t it the most important?” you asked, starting to follow. Except that, when she heard your steps in her back, she accelerated her pace. “I promise to be more careful next time but, you know, I can handle myself for one night. Well, I might have drunk a bit too much, but Astrid was wi~,” you tried to explain, except she cut short your ramblings. To say, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the woman quickly cut you. She scoffed again, in disbelief this time.

"You are really stupid, aren't you?” she said, stopping in her tracks, and you almost ran into her, surprised by her sudden stop. A few more seconds passed before she turned around to face you, her posture matching her stern expression. “Do you think I don't know what happened last night, with Astrid? Do you really think I wouldn’t have known the truth?” she added, taking a step forward for every question she asked, and you took one back every time, until your back hit the walls. You would certainly have found the situation hot if she didn’t look like she was about to murder you.

“W- what?” you said, “you are mad because I went out with a friend. That’s the problem? Astrid is the problem?" you snapped, starting to feel frustrated about the whole situation. 

You are tired, and the only thing you’ve wanted to do since you opened your eyes that morning — Throwing yourself in your girlfriend’s arms — was impossible to do. You hadn’t expected the woman to give you such a hard time. You knew she could be jealous sometimes, you’ve already had arguments about that in the past, but you’ve always been understanding because you know that her jealousy isn’t caused by a lack of trust. This feeling is fuelled by her own insecurities and past. Except that, that time, it was too much. The way she wouldn't listen to your excuses is seriously hitting on your nerves.

"Don't you dare to lie to me,” she said. For a moment, you thought she was going to hit you, but she took a step back before she could do that. She was angry too, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ease the feeling. “I trusted you,” she eventually added but her tone was different — The anger left her voice, replaced by pain. “I trusted you and, most importantly, I loved you,” she whispered, turning around to see you one last time. “After everything I have done for you, I can't believe that's how you are thanking me. You know, I really thought you were different, better," she laughed, trying very hard to not throw you against the walls or worse, to cry. The most insufferable was the look in your eyes, the false innocence. She was tired of pretending, she had given you enough chances to tell her the truth, “but you’re not,” but now, she was done trying.

That is the last time the two of you talked. The next time you’ve seen her, she hasn’t been kind enough to let you have a chance to explain things. She was done trying, and so were you. The last words she said are still ringing in your head, even years later. Maybe if you'd chased her once again that day, things would have ended differently, but you haven’t moved. You couldn’t, petrified by the conversation that just took place, you have just watched the redhead walking away without glancing back.

It’s only when you enter the break room that you understand the whole conversation you had with Natasha. No one was here, but the walls had been covered with pictures of yourself. At first, you thought it was a prank from your teammates’ but the pictures were all but innocent. You felt your heart sink when you took down one of the photos to get a closer look at it, and tears in your eyes when you realized that you were nude in those.

It was you, in bed, with Astrid. Your face doesn’t entirely show but you can easily recognize yourself and the bed you’ve woken up in that morning. There were dozens of different pictures, but all showed similar scenes: your bodies against each other as you are obviously sharing an intimate moment. Something that you should only share with one person on that Earth. A person that is definitely not Astrid. 

Except that the more you look at those pictures, the more foreign they feel. You are sure you are the one in the pictures, but you are still unable to remember what happened. Slowly, doubt creeps into your heart — Did you drink that much last night? 

So much that you betrayed the woman you swore to love until the sun dies? 

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You are suddenly overwhelmed by a bunch of emotions that you can’t describe, but that are definitely not pleasant. It is a mix of confusion, anger, guilt, and disgust. The pictures speak for themselves, and they leave little room for doubt about what you were doing — And you were surely not just sleeping. The woman was on top of you, her mouth closed to your neck, maybe she was leaving soft kisses against your skin, maybe she was whispering sweet things in your ears, you don’t know. But the thing you were focused on was her hand hidden by the sheets, leaving only your imagination to complete the scene. It wasn’t the only picture of that kind: they were all picturing similar scenes. You can easily understand her rage and hatred earlier because you are now sharing those feelings with your girlfriend, just for different reasons.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" a voice said, pulling out of your mind. It was Astrid, who just entered the room. She glanced around before looking back at you, a sad smile spreading on her lips when she notices the tears that are soaking your face. and you saw Astrid entering the room. She looks around, a sorry look on her face. "I am sorry,” she started, and you could feel she was looking for the right thing to say, “I- I sent the pictures to the wrong person. When I realized, I tried to explain to Romanoff but, well… you know how she is,” she explained, shrugging as if she was trying to make you believe she had actually tried to, “she wouldn't listen to me, and they- they did that before I could stop them. It doesn’t please me either," she added, reminding you that you weren’t the only one suffering from the situation. Except she seemed to deal with the situation better than you do. As she talked, she slowly walked closer to you, accompanying each of her sentences with a few steps forward until she was close enough to wrap you in her arms. 

You didn’t get the energy to push her away.

"Did we.. ?" you asked, but your voice broke before you could finish your sentence. It felt too difficult to say those words out loud — “Did we hook up? Did I cheat on Natasha?” But the woman doesn’t need the words to be said, she seems to read in your mind the end of your sentence.

"Of course we did, what kind of question is that?" she replied, frowning. She seems to be surprised by your question. For a second, the hand that was slowly caressing the back of your head stopped. The woman pulled back a little, just so she could see your face. "Why? Do you regret it?" she asked, and for an instant she seemed to be genuinely worried about your reaction, "because you didn't seem to last night, when you cried my name,..." she whispered in your ear. You could feel her breath tickling your skin but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling, unlike when Natasha does it.

Everything felt so much. Her voice, her touch, her presence so close to you, was now unbearable. As she remembers the night you’ve spent, a soft smirk spreads on her lips, but you are definitely not sharing her feelings. “Of course we did.” The words loop back into your mind, it seeps in like a poison that quickly takes over your whole being. Soon, you are paralyzed by an awful feeling. It hurts, but at the same time you are not sure you are actually feeling something, your body and mind feeling so foreign to you — If you wanted it, why does it feel so wrong?

At that moment, if you had been able to move, you would have ripped your ears off just so you wouldn’t hear her voice any more, and maybe you would have done the same with your skin. It felt like the only way to get rid of your overwhelming feelings. Suddenly, the reassuring touch of your best friend made you feel gross, and so do her sweet words — But if she said that you did it, and wanted it, then it must be true, right?

You have seen the pictures, they are in your hands, right under your eyes. You can see yourself betraying the woman you love and in those, you really don't give the impression that you didn’t want to. On the contrary.

"No, no, it- it's not that, it’s just…," you eventually managed to say, but you are hesitating and unsure of yourself. There are too many thoughts and words clouding your head, so many ways you could react and yet, none of what you could say or do felt right. "It’s just that I don’t even remember last night,” you admitted, feeling ashamed about it, “I mean, did we- you know,... for real?" you asked softly but you were not even listening to Astrid’s answer, the question was more for yourself in reality. "Sorry, I have to go, see you later", you said, interrupting the woman. Somehow, you regained control over your body, just enough to push the other away and leave the room. You are not sure where you are going, but as far from that room as you can is already a good start.

That's where she found you when she came home that night, sitting on the bathroom's floor, the pictures in your hands.

Your hand is still wrapped tightly around the pictures, but you didn’t notice it. Not before being back home, in the room you are sharing with Natasha — Or were sharing, you thought, unsure about how the situation would unfold. It may be the last time you set a foot in that room that has been your safe place for months. Before you could completely break down, you decided to take a shower, thinking that, maybe, the steaming water would be enough to ease your mind. You took two showers. Then three, then four, and maybe more. You can’t be sure, you’ve stopped counting. All you knew was that it hasn’t been enough to get rid of the uneasy feelings and thoughts. You’ve scrubbed yourself until your skin was so sensitive that even the touch of the towel has been painful — But maybe you deserved it.

The rest of the day is a blur, and you are not sure what time it is. You’ve spent hours on the bathroom’s floor, your left hand clenched around the picture while the right one was holding the towel. Your head was so empty, but so full at the same time. That’s how she found you when she came home that night, and if she had been tempted to wrap you in her arms when she saw your pitiful state, the conversation she just had with the others discouraged her to do so — You didn’t deserve her pity. They are right when they say that you are not the victim: you are the one that cheated on her, and she needs to be firm, stern. You knew how hard it is for the woman to trust someone and yet, you still broke the fate she had put in you after years of making her dream of a better future.

"Oh, so you remember now?" she coldly said to you when she entered the room. You didn’t move, not even your eyes to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that the woman was leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. Maybe you would have also seen that her coldness was only a facade, and that she was as close as you were from breaking down. 

You stayed silent, unable to say anything. The words were stuck in your clenched throat, and they aren’t feeling right anyway — How could you defend yourself when you didn't even know what happened exactly? Plus, you weren’t even sure there was something to defend, the pictures speaking for themselves. Even when she started packing your belongings, you didn’t move. For you to move, she had to grab your arm and drag you all the way outside the Avengers’s building by herself. 

She needed you gone, and everyone agreed that it was only for the best. At least for a few weeks, just the time for things to calm down. That’s what she came to announce. The few words that left your mouth were useless, your pleas falling in deaf ears: the decision had already been made, and the sentence was irrevocable. The woman is done with your bullshit. She is done with you, and so you are.

"The pictures, they- they aren't real," she eventually admitted, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she unburdens herself of this old secret. “I mean, th- they are, but it’s a staging. Nothing happened between us, she- hm, loves you too much to give you away,” she continued, tears filling her eyes as she talks, her voice wavering a little more with each word. "She isn't even conscious in these," she continued when the spy didn’t react. If the black-haired woman thought it was because the other was listening, it was because she didn’t know how to react.

The weight of what she had done left her shoulder, and it was now lingering in the room, where the air was suddenly thick, and almost unbreathable. Natasha felt a weight in her chest that made each breath harder than the previous one. Overcome by surprise, she had let go of the other, stepping back a few steps. Her thoughts were racing, numerous and contradictory, they weren’t coherent enough to allow how to respond in any way. She needed to do something, but she didn’t know what.

“I- I don’t know why I did that. It wasn’t me, that night, you know that, right? That I would usually never ever do something like that,” she started to defend herself when she saw the look on Natasha’s face, “I was so angry, and disappointed, when she refused. I have given her everything since we met, and yet you are the one she chose. I thought that, maybe, with a bit of time she would eventually realize her mistake, … but I was so wrong,” she sighed, and the redhead could see the remnants of that anger in her attitude. A clenching jaw and fists, accompanied with firm words that left no doubt about the resentment she held towards her, and towards you. “That night, I- I wasn’t myself. We’ve already had a few drinks and, you know, it doesn’t mix well with emotions,” she continued, and the woman could feel her anger rising with every word the other spoke. “All I could think about was getting revenge. I wanted to show her she was wrong, that I had so much more to offer than she thought. I wanted her to change her mind, to see me for more than just a friend,” she admitted, her voice being just a whisper as she says the last sentence. “I never thought it would end this way, I swear, you’ve to believe me, Natasha,” and to forgive me. She didn’t say the last words out loud, but she doesn’t need to, her eyes are speaking for herself.

Only, when her gaze met the redhead’s, she didn’t see in her eyes the compassion she had been expecting, only pure hatred, an emotion that had quickly replaced the initial surprise. Not even a word was addressed to her as the other left the room, leaving her alone to dry her tears.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

[kurakisses]

⟡ ⠀hold me tight⠀⠀⊹⠀⠀ soshiro hoshina & you

gn, flower shop owner reader who deals with depression and anxiety. hurt/comfort, a bit of angst maybe. this is the part 1 of my scaredy cat series.

what you had achieved so far slipped through your fingers like fine sand, swallowed up, swept away by greedy waves of poisonous distress, almost like ivy, choking your laments as they hugged your throat.

the prelude to a chain of events that would almost push you over the edge in front of the person you most admired— you felt so weak and ashamed.

the piece of paper was lying in front of you, sharing a place next to your friend's results.

your expression bordered on sadness even though you had passed just as he had, lips pressed into a thin line

you thought you didn't deserve it

and soshiro looked at you worriedly

he took your hand gently and even dared to intertwine his fingers with yours for brief instants

he ran the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand.

"sorry…"

you mumbled in an almost inaudible whisper.

you knew how hard he had worked to get here, how many sleepless nights had passed in which he had dedicated himself to training

how he woke up almost every day only to pick up the sword

how his hands were calloused, rough to the touch from gripping the weapon so tightly for so long

but you thought you lacked the same spark that he did

and that you were just following him without any purpose beyond accompanying him in his dream.

even if that were so, you would be useless as his companion.

you couldn't protect others, you were incapable of fighting and you felt useless compared to most others.

so why did you decide to accept your friend's proposal to take the exams for the defense forces together?

perhaps it was because of how enthusiastic he seemed to be when he told you about his plan.

how his smile spread across his face and his eyes took on the shape of little crescents

he seemed so cheerful talking to you, convincing you to hold his hand if you became nervous during the exam

your lower lip trembled with insecurity as you realized that you just didn't want to disappoint him

you were afraid to see his dissapointed face

because you wanted to live up to his expectations

however, the silent, disconsolate sob you barely managed to utter was proof enough of how much you demanded of yourself, and how it didn't seem to be nearly enough for you to live up to the man in front of you.

you didn't deserve the results etched in ink that went hand in hand with your name, much less could you allow your racing heartbeat to be the cause of your fractured smile that came before your tears.

because you were happy to have passed, but you could not accept it.

there were people much better suited for this job than you— and you even assured yourself that you would fail the next exam.

so if you were so fervent in your claims, why would you even take that second test?

why put in the effort?

"it would be… better if i supported you from afar."

you managed to feel that hint of sadness through the touch of the dark-haired one, who refused to withdraw his hand from yours

even though you tried to retract yours, trembling.

"i don't think i can do this."

you bit your lower lip with the intention of holding back those tears that threatened to spill from your eyes

"sorry"

your jaw trembled to the rhythm of your hands, voice bathed in obvious fear

your gaze barely lifted at the sound of your friend's voice.

"'tis not a job apt for everyone, so don't beat yerself up over it."

a soft, almost gentle tone adorned those words

and your heart ached in anguish when you didn't find the disappointment you had imagined.

perhaps he was hiding it, so as not to make you uncomfortable.

soshiro was always attentive to you— even his touch on your fearful hands was as soft as feathers

and that made you imagine that he was hiding what he really wanted to tell you.

because you'd heard harsh words throughout your life

just like him

he was as exhausted as you, carrying so much on his shoulders— and yet he had decided to stay by your side, to comfort you when you hit rock bottom and try to ease what you were so worried about.

you felt that all you were doing was occupying him more than he already was, putting more weight on him, even though he repeated several times that this did not bother him at all, that he did it voluntarily.

the wall that divided the two of you was the simple fact that he wanted to begin to fight against what he had been told throughout his life

while you were just sinking, learning to live with it rather than against it.

so you assumed that everyone would treat you the same; and when that didn't happen you simply thought the worst

even if you didn't want to

"ya better support me like you say"

soshiro's finger was pointing at you, and his little fangs showed above his lower lip

you lightly mimicked his smile, aware that he was only acting this way in an attempt to cheer you up

"i wanna see yer pretty face all happy, 'kay?"

[self-awared]

The Anemo Archon

Genshin SAGAU Imposter Au!

Part 1 <— You are here! Part 2

Trigger warnings: Violence, not proof-read, not well written

Everything hurt.

Your whole body was on fire from running, from being stabbed, from tripping... If there was something that could hurt you, it did.

—

You had no idea why people stared at you with hatred as you entered the city of freedom. You were the Creator, after all.

It wasn't until you were jumped by the Knights of Favonius that you realized what was happening. They screamed at you, calling you an imposter that dared to steal their Creator's face.

You barely escaped with your life.

—

"The wind? What about it?" You spoke curiously as you held a small wind spirit in your hand. Istaroth had named it Barbatos. It had the ability to talk, and had a mind of its own. It had also become quite close to you as you made and molded Teyvat.

"Whenever you're hurt, follow the wind! I'll help you!" The spirit's glee brought a smile to your face.

"Will you, now? Who says I need protecting?" You responded, teasing the small and adorable creature.

"Me! I do! And the wind!" Barbatos's childish nature was nothing new to you. It was always refreshing to hear their giggles and watch them fly around you as you took a break from exploring your creation.

"Very well. The great Barbatos shall be my protector until the end of time!"

—

The memory brought a small smile to your face as you rested in the den of a cave, a squirrel huddled in your lap, a bird perched on your shoulder, and a snake around your neck like a scarf.

You had felt the wind comforting you as you ran from your attackers. The wind blowed past your face and almost pushed you forward, as if trying to get you to run faster before an arrow struck your shoulder.

You had managed to get away from your attackers, deciding to take the advice of an old friend and follow the wind. It led you to a deep cave, one that would provide you with shelter. The animals brought you food. Squirrels brought acorns, rabbits brought leaves and carrots, birds brought worms, snakes brought dead animals... The worms did creep you out though.

You ran a finger over the squirrel's fur, finding comfort in the feeling of something so soft after going through something so harsh. The peace was interrupted by a soft whisper in your ear, making you jump and scaring the animals.

"Seems like you do need the wind's protection after all!"

You were flooded with relief upon hearing the familiar voice of Barbatos, before panicking at the thought that he might believe that you were an imposter.

"Barbatos... You... Do you believe it's me?" Your hands were shaking just as bad as your breathing. It terrified you at the thought of having to flee from a beloved friend—

"Of course not, Your Grace! The wind never lies! And it's certainly not lying about the fact that your attempts at bandaging are quite poor." Barbatos teased as he sat next to you.

"May I?" Barbatos reached out to you, a hand hovering over the makeshift bandage over your shoulder.

You nodded ever so slightly, internally sighing at his normal playful nature.

As Barbatos tended to your numerous wounds—mainly the one on your shoulder—you couldn't help but notice that he looked different from what you remembered.

"Did you get a change of style?" Curiosity plagued your voice.

"I took the form of a friend." Barbatos's smile became rather dim as he spoke softly.

"Oh... I see." You paused. "What happened while I was away...?" You were reluctant in asking, as if afraid of the answer.

"Well, Your Grace... Someone claimed to be you. They fit the description told in the tales, and even the one I remember you looking like. Everyone believed them, and I'm no longer as strong as I used to be." He spoke softly, in a quiet tone, weary of any passersby, even though you were in the depths of a cave.

"So, I played along. I'm trying my best to find out how to get rid of them, I swear on my life, Your Grace." His smile was comforting as he finished tending to your injuries.

"And what should I do?"

[holylulusworld]

Love by heart

Summary: Can you and Dean work things out? What about Sam?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, a/b/o, arguing, insured Sam

Catch up here: Omega by nature

“Sammy?” you whisper as the tall hunter is still out cold. The shifter got him good. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it wasn’t Dean. It’s just, that we got so comfortable at the bunker that I never thought an enemy would be able to enter it.”

“Y/N,” Dean sighs deeply. He gently places his hand on your shoulder, making you flinch. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. I know it’s a little too much to bear. I cleaned the bunker and got rid of the shifter.”

“It’s all my fault.” You hide your face in the palms of your hands. “I should’ve known better. I’m a hunter, an experienced one. How could the monster trick me into believing it was you? You want to mate me. Hilarious!”

You start to laugh uncontrollably. “Y/N,” his features soften, and he softly whispers your name. “It’s not your fault but mine. Shapeshifters are sneaky bastards. They tricked me and Sammy years ago too.”

“Maybe I wanted to believe him, Dean. If I can’t have the real Dean, I want to have the second-best thing. An exact clone,” you sniffle. “At least this one didn’t hunt me with a hammer.” You chuckle this time. “Demon Dean on the loose was something else.”

“We’ve been through a lot together,” he runs his hand over your back. “You’re the strongest woman I ever met. No one can compare to you. Not my mother, not one of my friends, or any lover I had.”

“You only try to make me feel better,” you wipe your wet eyes. “It’s fine. Really. Please stop pitying me. I know that a woman like Cassie is more your taste. Finding the right mate is hard and maybe, I only wanted you because you were always around.”

“Sammy was always around too,” Dean argues. “Stop pretending that you didn’t hide your presentation from me to keep me from claiming you.”

“I did not! I hid my presentation since I presented,” you snap at Dean. “This had nothing to do with you, but my father and brother. I was born and raised in a clan of hunters. They had no use for an omega. A beta was fine. But an omega got abandoned and left behind.”

“Y/N, sweetheart,” he regrets his harsh words when you choke out a sob. “All these years  I made you believe that I don’t want you because I was scared of hurting. Loving a Winchester is a death sentence. Look at my mother, Jess, Lisa, and Sarah. They got killed or hurt because of us. I didn’t want the same to happen to you.”

“Liar!”

“I’m not lying! I tried to protect you.” Dean yells back. “Stop accusing me of being a liar. I’m anything but a liar!”

“You only rejected me because of my presentation. If not you would’ve crawled between my legs years ago! I simply didn’t do it for you!” You jump up from your seat to glare at Dean. “Admit it! Say it out loud. You’re nothing but a knothead.”

“Watch your tongue, Y/N!” Dean breathes in your face. “You should remember your place in the food chain.” He backpaddles when you backhand him.

“I dare you to say shit like that to me ever again DEAN WINCHESTER!” You growl in his direction. “No man talks like that to me and walks away with intact balls!”

“You want to hurt my balls?” His hands shoot toward his crotch to protect whatever he’s hiding in his pants. “Sweetheart that’s not nice of you to say.”

“Oh, when it comes to your balls you want me to be nice?” You snarl at the alpha. “You started this by changing the way you see me only because I’m an omega.”

“I did not! I-“ He huffs. “It’s just…you are an omega, and we could’ve been together all this time. I went through the worst ruts because you were around, but I couldn’t touch you. I was so scared of hurting you with my knot!”

“Liar, liar your pants are on fire,” you sing-song, and stick your tongue out. “Whatever kept you from being with me wasn’t fear. It was your knot!”

“Exactly!” He says. His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”  Dean curses loudly and grips the backrest of the chair you were sitting on earlier. “Fuck. You make me lose my damn mind one day, omega.”

You shudder as Dean addresses you with your presentation for the first time. “You are one to talk!”

“Do you know why the shapeshifter came here?”

“I guess he wanted to kill Sam and me. We are most wanted, on top of the list of every monster,” you shrug.

“No,” Dean shakes his head. “He only came here to get you. That monster couldn’t fight his instinct because he stole my identity. He remembered every single thought I had of you. And he felt what I felt. Need. Want. Lust. Possessiveness. Lust…”

“You said lust twice,” you grumble and cross your arms over your chest.  “This doesn’t count!”

“Well, lust is important,” he smirks. “He wanted you because I want you. Luckily I came here just in time before that sonofabitch got the chance to touch you.”

“I could’ve defended myself.”

“I never once doubted that you’d defended yourself just fine.” He growls. “Can you stop arguing about everything I say? I tried to tell you that I love being there for you and to protect you. I still have nightmares of my time as a demon.”

“The hammer?” You challenge. “At least the demon had a thing for me too. Even if bringing a hammer for a date is a bit too much.”

“You hit me pretty hard with that baseball bat if I recall right,” Dean snaps back. “It felt like you tried to kill me!”

“I had to defend myself against a knight of hell!” You and Dean snarl and growl at each other.

“Guys, I appreciate you are trying to talk things out, but can you do this outside of my room,” Sam says. “I got attacked by a shifter and still got a terrible headache.”

“Sammy!” Dean and you gasp. “Sorry, Sam. We were about to…” you trial off. “Uh-you know. Dean and I will talk things out later.”

“Good.” Sam slowly sits up. “I only had to get myself almost killed to make you talk.” The hunter looks at you and his brother. “Please for the love of fuck. Go out there and do something against this tension going on between the two of you…”

Part 4

[ohsunnyboy]

steal your night (part 1) | sung hanbin ˚₊‧⁺˖

you never knew you had a boyfriend until sung hanbin eats your tiramisu and steals your heart under the stars of monaco

SERIES: a night in monaco — one, two

TAGS: fake dating, strangers to lovers, business man!hanbin, gn!reader, flirty hanbin and you ehe, meet cute <3, summer vibes

A/N: sorry for the disappearance lmao take my hanbin pining as an apology, and as always, purely self indulgent

WORDS: ~1300

Trouble comes when dessert is served.

Everything considered, it’s horrible timing. Sun setting just so over the Mediterranean, hearty chatter firing all around in all sorts of languages and your wine being warm company on a supposedly lonely night. It makes a perfect set-up as your spoon hovers mid-air as you prepare to dig into some well-deserved tiramisu.

Until someone slides into the very empty seat across from you, slips a crisp black business card across the table to you – it reads 'Sung Hanbin' – and uttering the most insane thing yet: "Love, I'm so sorry for being late!"

What.

You barely get to say anything before he's swooping in for la bise. As you lean in, his expensive cologne lingers like smoke in the air. It's a narrow dodge of your lips, but he swerves and lands a quick kiss to your right cheek and then dares to go for a second on your left. Consider yourself stunned because all you do is watch him pull away and a grin at you with a gorgeous smile.

You want to sit and gape for a second, let yourself breathe, and now with a longer look, let him breathe.

This, Hanbin, has flushed cheeks and is twitchy with how he holds your hand – when did that happen?! – across the table. There's a light sheen of sweat on his skin and not due to the heat, more like he's either embarrassed or nervous about this. He breathes in short, sharp gasps as if he's been running and mouths something to you.

Please play along. His hand still holds yours, and he squeezes just so.

Hanbin turned his head to the right slightly. Stood at a table near the entrance was a woman with a flowy silver dress on and hair pulled into quite a severe bun. Her pointed heels tapping on the spot and her jittery eyes glance over at you two, but quickly look somewhere else when she catches your curious gaze.

“She’s been trying to get me to buy her a meal all day,” he sighs. “Thing is, I even saw her scoping me out yesterday at a bar last night. I was naïve enough to buy her a drink to start some conversation, but she’s taken it as personal permission to stalk me. She clearly hasn’t gotten the memo.” And he squeezes your hand again, this time to comfort himself.

“What about me? What if I turn out to be some crazy that’s out to steal your Amex and claim my fifth husband?”

“You? No way, you have a top shelf wine and a second plate of tiramisu in front of you already. You're doing perfectly fine without my money," Hanbin lists before his gaze turns considering. "Unless... you weren't lying about the husbands.”

You laugh into your wine and eye Hanbin over the rim. "You wouldn’t look too bad in a wedding tux, pretty boy, who knows?”

The long column of Hanbin’s neck is exposed thanks to the open collar of his shirt. Revealing the delicate sun, moon and star on his collar that only keeps you stuck in wonder for longer.

You can only imagine how smooth the skin feels – under your hands and lips – but maybe that’s the wine talking when he sits there fine and handsome against the candlelight. The sunset paints saturated hues against his skin, you can barely see the blush that peeks above his collar thanks to it.

If you friends were here, you know what they’d say about him: trouble, hot and wealthy trouble.

“Eyes up here, love.” Your eyes leap back up to Hanbin’s to only see amusement in them. Getting caught flushes your face with heat but his eyes are dark enough to forget yourself in.

You try to push on, clearing your throat and pulling yourself together. “So, the deal is we act like lovers the rest of the night?” The weight of the word lovers is a syrupy one, overtly sweet and something far from familiar for you but Hanbin only smiles at it.

“Of course, love. Shouldn’t be too hard with someone as sweet as you,” he grins however his eyes still linger on that woman in silver, clearly on edge.

You drum your fingers on the table, the rush of meeting each other melting quickly in the air. Awkward tension is bound to seep in soon and you'll be damned if it does! you're not losing this chance no matter how much trouble this man could be.

A stroke of brilliance brings you to push forward your untouched plate of tiramisu over to him, careful with the spoon balancing precariously on the plate. “What?” you smile at his confused face. “I wasn’t eating it anyway and you need a distraction.” But he just raises his brows like he doesn't believe it.

At his reluctance, you sigh and begin to flag down a waitress.

“Hey! Hey, don’t kick me out please—I’ll eat it!… even pay for it!—” Hanbin flusters even further as you push a finger against his soft lips to shut him up as the waitress arrives.

It’s a beat of silence.

“Two more tiramisus, please.” Hanbin’s laugh of disbelief trails the waitress as she leaves.

What you do find out is that it’s stupidly easy to talk to Hanbin. You tell him why you’re even here in Monaco: about your crazy best friends marrying after years of adventures, about being the responsible one in a group of misfits, about growing up and never quite finding the one unlike how they did. Loneliness is a familiar tale on your tongue, the wine tinging everything you say with bitter honesty you’ve never been able to let out with anyone else.

With Hanbin, you learn about his job as a business consultant: his annoying – but endearing! – juniors Yujin and Gyuvin, how him and Zhang Hao – his other colleague – are out here for strictly business. Until of course, he met you.

“What are your doing out here so alone, anyway?” he probed. He’s so much closer now, having moved his chair to be next to you instead of opposite you. “You’re too pretty to be single but I really hope you are.”

You shrug off the flirting for once and let yourself disappear back into the chair. “Everyone else I know are in relationships so they’re all away on dates across the city. I figured stealing myself away on a self-date would be better than sitting lonely in a hotel room all night.” 

He hums, a low and melodic thing. You can feel the heat of him next to you, the weight of his presence and the cut of his cologne all over again. Though nothing prepares you when Hanbin takes your hand in his.

He raises it, gentle and kind, slow and despairing, and presses his lips to your ring finger.

"Well then, may I steal your night?" he asks like a dare. A whisper barely heard but shared between you two.

Eyes far too low and gaze far too heavy for a look between strangers. The implications are clearer than the night sky above. Hanbin's lips linger with a smirk, and you can feel everything in you screaming to look away before you melt into the floor but all you can do is stare.

Trouble. Is what your mind is screaming. It's what you really want after all this pining in silence. Someone to crash into your life and take you with them.

"You don't even know my name."

It comes out like an accusation. Trouble, trouble, trouble. It brings you here and leaves you dizzy, craving for more.

"Why would I need it, love. You'll be saying mine all night.”

The woman is long gone into the night so there's no need for this play-pretend. But trouble looks you in the eyes and you kiss him with a heart that yearns for more.

ahjbsdkh thanks so much for reading <33 i had a lot of fun writing this so a like and reblog would be nice if you enjoyed :] ⭒ masterlist

[sp-by-april]

Kenny McCormick Master List

a list of fics @by-april-march aka RoundTheWayGrrl 💖

F!READER Bodyguard [Ao3] [[tumblr]] Mysterion offers to protect you. You just have to say yes.

I Didn't Just Come Here To Dance [Ao3] [[tumblr]] [WattPad] Mysterion catches you trying to steal from a club.

Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off [Ao3] [[tumblr]] [Part two] Mysterion has you all tied up for an interrogation.

Blonde [Ao3] [[tumblr]] You turn Kenny into a shaking, begging mess.

Where Did The Party Go? [Ao3] [[tumblr]] [WattPad] [Kyle, Kenny x Reader] You, Kenny, and Kyle turn a wet dream about a threesome into a reality.

Dare [Ao3] [[tumblr]] [Wattpad] [Stan, Kyle, Kenny x Reader] A game of truth or Dare devolves into Kenny, Kyle and Stan using you as a plaything.

Claim It [Ao3] [[tumblr]] Kyle and Kenny have you on your knees and bound.

MISC Yandere!Kenny HCs Smutty Kenny HCs

Beware This Boy [WB Teaser Comic]

Warm Blood [Ao3] [[tumblr]] [WattPad] [Kenny x Martine, Kenny x Annie Knitts/Nelson] Kenny McCormick knew better than to fall for Kyle's ex-girlfriend, the same one who spent her nights working for Professor Chaos as a villain... but fucking her a few times couldn’t hurt, right? A one-time thing that turned into another (& another, & another, & then.. a love triangle) will eventually threaten the lives of everyone in South Park. Kenny just had to become infatuated with the only girl on Earth whose birthright was to destroy him.

I Could Be Van Gogh, If You'd Be My Muse [Ao3] [[tumblr]] [Kenny x April] There's a smut writing group at South Park High!!

South of Nowhere [Ao3] [[tumblr]] [Kenny x Nichole x Kyle] Senior year. Kyle and Kenny have been defacto best friends since Stan pulled away. Kyle and Nichole have been fooling around, but he hasn't made a move or said anything about being interested in a relationship. Kenny and Nichole have been getting closer as she trains Karen. 💚 🍯 🧡 Virginity. Prom. Love triangle. Young adulthood. Yearning. Aching. How will they ever survive?

Broken Clocks [Ao3] [Tumblr] [Kenny x Nichole] Kenny's kid is starting third grade. Should he continue as Mysterion or quit to spend more time with his family?

SMUT-A-THON ONE SHOTS Kenny x CartmansGF!Reader [Cheating] Kenny x F!Reader [Throwing it back!] Dom!Kenny x F!Reader [Overstim, Praise] Kenny x F!Reader [Voyeurism] Kenny x F!Reader [Secret Party Sex] Kenny x F!Reader [Rockstar Kenny] Kenny x F!Reader [Breeding Kink]

Mysterion x F!Reader [Size Kink] Kenny x F!Reader [Be Quiet] Kenny x F!Reader [Age Gap] Kenny x M!Reader [Tammy's New BF]

Kenny x Tammy [Kenny Losing His Virginity] Kenny, Kyle, Stan x F!Reader [Kyle Shares You] SMUT CAFE [EMOJI LEGEND] Mysterion x F!Reader [🤍🍒⚡️] Princess Kenny x F!Reader [🧡🍒💫🙌🐾]

FURTHER READING 🔞 [Kyle Broflovski] 🔞 [Stan Marsh] 🔞 [Eric Cartman]

HEAD CANONS South Park Guys x Aftercare HCs Main Four x Choking HCs Yandere!Main Four HCs Main Four (+Butters) x 👅😻 HCS 🍆🍆🍆🍆 Head Canons

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Tip the Scales Chapter 1

Prosecutor Sun, Prosecutor Moon, Judge Eclipse x Defense Lawyer (Devil's Advocate) Reader

(You are a charismatic defense lawyer in a constant competition with two ruthless prosecutors that do not understand your ideals about criminals deserving a second chance. You are also housemates with a certain bitter and retired judge, who has a habit of operating at night as a cloaked figure known as the Judge of the Damned. Things get complicated when your old friend Monty gets accused of a murder he claims to not have committed willingly. Will you balance the scales once more?)

Warnings: suggestive themes, possessive behaviour, mentions of violence

There was a particular universal truth that court employees would never dare to admit about court proceedings: not a single one of them actually wanted to be there. Those that did enjoy being present during a session were either lying to themselves or were being paid obscene amounts of cash to pretend to care. In other extreme cases, it was all a part of unhinged ambition sprinkled with a dash of insanity.

Normally the whole process was a dreary affair, varying from sordid and depressing, all the way to showing what an administrative inferno the whole institution had become over time. True to the Dickensian fashion of describing things, one could say that the gloomy and omnipresent fog that had consumed the city with the arrival of Fall was equally present in the courtroom itself, both metaphorically and literally, entering every pore and chilling everyone to the bone.

However, in our specific situation things were getting quite heated. The cold September fog had been rudely pushed aside by the steam of intense and fiery debate you were having with prosecuting attorney Sun.

A bitter rivalry existed between you and the celestial-themed animatronic, but over the past year it seemed to have bloomed into obsessive fascination on Sun's part. We could classifiy it as another universal truth that one was bound to eventually become infatuated and captivated by their “nemesis“.

Placing you two in the same room was a very bad idea. Or a very good idea, it honestly depended on who you asked. For instance, the general public that had come to listen to your long nonsensical argument had arrived there for the sole purpose of finding out whether you two would passionately kiss somewhere in the middle of the whole discussion.

The suspense was maddening, the tension was more than palpable. One of the clerks was fanning himself with a folder, wondering whether or not he had taken his heart medication earlier.

“Could somebody open a window, please?“

There had always been an unusually thin line between love and hatred, enemies and lovers, but somehow it seemed oddly fitting for you and Sun to combine both at the same time with no problem.

After a well crafted comeback, believing himself to be the victor, Sun winked at you, triumphant and his grin wide and sinister.

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?“

“My dear sir, I cannot say, I hardly even felt anything.“

“I was under the impression that we have long abandoned this little “playing hard to get“ scenario.“

“Goodness, that sounds serious, delusions could be a sign of a system malfunction, you should get that checked, Sun.“

“Don't be so high and mighty. You will lose today, both the case and the little bet we made.“

“Oh, my, so ominous. I sure am devastated on the inside, inconsolable, I shall probably never recover.“

You were driving him insane. Healthy competition was usually highly encouraged, but this was beyond ridiculous. No matter how eloquent and skillful he was in the art of rhetoric, you refused to yield. You were still a relatively young jurist, having passed the bar examination barely two years prior, but your legal reasoning was unusually innovative and your application of creative solutions to impossible problems was astounding. There wasn't a single thing that Sun could throw at you without you catching it and throwing it ten times harder right back at him.

The judge, an elderly man that was diligently counting down the days till it was socially acceptable to retire from what was regularly a life tenure, was listening to the two of you bicker as if it were the latest installment of his favourite picture show series. He wondered if he should simply let you silly lovebirds borrow his chambers for a minute or two. Or thirty, wherever the feeling takes you. He was very supportive.

He was also the only judge in the building willing to tolerate the nonsense that you and the Celestial Prosecutors kept pulling off in the courtroom. It was free entertainment and he needed some amusement in his old age. The rest of the judicial assembly would have to pull straws each time a new case had to be assigned.

He remembered how different things had been a few years prior.

It was an open secret that the judicial assembly missed the old days when the esteemed Judge Eclipse had still been in office, before his abrupt retirement under unusual circumstances. Eclipse would always volunteer to do all the work, snatching case files from everybody's hands and closing himself in his chambers, leaving the possibility for the rest of the assembly to simply enjoy their coffee and gossip in the conference room.

Intense and immensely dedicated to his work, unyielding, unforgiving and merciless, Eclipse had been akin to a dark deity of the afterlife, deciding the fate of souls that had succumbed to corruption. His golden eyes had held nothing but pure contempt for evildoers, his mechanical heart perpetually hungry for the suffering of the wicked. Court sessions under his administrations had been a thing of horror for some and an example of a job well-done for others. Deranged and disproportionate punishments had made Eclipse quite unpopular in the criminal milieu, and there had been quite a few attempts on his life that would usually end up with the assassins themselves having their spines twisted into a pretty pretzel.

Self-defense, clear-cut, no questions asked, nobody left to mourn a few dismembered rulebreakers.

The euphoria had been too intoxicating, the flesh of Evil too delicious, the screams of the damned a symphony unmatched.

One thing had lead to another, interfering into interrogations, conflict of interest, violating every possible rule of criminal procedure, prisoners being found dead in their cells, acquitted individuals dying under suspicious circumstances mere days after their release.

The courthouse and law enforcement would always turn a blind eye. Whispers in the corridors, silent gasps in the archive rooms, everybody knew of Eclipse's tendencies, his desire to play god. Nobody had dared to make a fuss about the whole situation, not even when a few fellow judges that had been accused of bribery had one day "mysteriously" disappeared. It was all a silent approval. Crime statistics had been fixing themselves, who would dare interfere?

Deciding to return to topics less grim and vile, the current judge smiled fondly at the prosecutors and the sly defense lawyer before him. Such a sweet change, whimsy and passion reigning supreme, banishing the sepulchral dread of olden times.

Contrary to custom, Sun was working with his brother Moon by his side. It was definitely unusual for two prosecutors to work together on same cases and appear in court as a team, but nobody had ever complained about it and regulations had no explicit rule against it. It was Moon's duty to make a thorough research and keep Sun informed of any new facts or legal acts in order for Sun to prepare a proper presentation to enthrall everyone in the courtroom or ask for appropriate actions.

They used all of their individual strengths and skills to achieve the best results. Reminiscent of their older brother's inclinations, their methods and ruthless determination in the pursuit of their version of justice at all costs had become notorious, eventually making the general public refer to them as the Grand Inquisitors.

All of that aside, the two of them still had to make sure that each investigation went perfectly by the books and that there were no irregularities made by law enforcement in the initial stages of each investigation. Being a prosecutor was akin to being a sea captain that constantly kept hoping that his crew was sober. One single mistake meant that the other party would pounce on it like a feral animal.

And pounce you did.

For instance, you were easily capable of rendering a whole confession useless by claiming it was inadmissible evidence obtained through coercion. It was no trouble for you to stage a whole scene.

You had pulled off such a stunt a few times in the past and the results would always follow a hilarious pattern: the confused police officers would simply blink and question their general reality on whether they had truly applied excessive force, the public audience would try not to snack too loudly on the popcorn they had brought, the defendant would do his best to keep crying and keeping his story straight about how absolutely devastated and tortured he was, the judge would hope that no reporters would come crawling in the courtroom and asking about human rights violations. Again.

The celestial twins were unused to such audacity and blows to their pride. Sun and Moon had always been a powerful force that had never known the meaning of failure, the playing field had been theirs to dominate and it was pure madness to even think that anyone could place an end to that. And then you showed up and suddenly the courtroom was a circus, you were the ringmaster and you turned the two of them into the lead jesters of the whole show.

They were furious with you for making a mockery of their act. How dare you?

Moon did his best to remain subtle with his temper, even if his pencils did audibly snap in half from time to time. He had to keep an appearance a patient man, someone courteous and polite. It was of great importance to keep that thick layer of ice above the boiling madness that stirred deep within.

Oh, how you tested his patience still. It all kept accumulating, over and over, cracking the ice bit by bit.

He could write a masterpiece of scholarly analysis and a seemingly perfect reconstruction of events, and you would destroy all of that effort simply by telling him he wrote a date wrong, messing up the entire chronology and all further conclusions, rendering the whole thing useless. You always tripped him with the little things, formalities, so many tidbits that made the whole construction fall apart.

The devil was in the details, after all.

Speaking of which, since the majority of your clients were desperate people that had strayed from the morals of society into a life of crime for mere survival, you had earned yourself the title of Devil's Advocate among your colleagues. The world of your clients, however, was quite grateful for your services and assistance, all of them calling you their Fairy Godparent.

You got them out of trouble, you found them alternatives and new respectful jobs, you gave and gave, granting wishes and making them all happily dance to your music. If anyone had issues or needed help, they knew who to come to. You were waiting with good life advice, cupcakes, a hot cup of coffee and assurance that you would solve all of their problems. In many cases, you were the last angel before the gates of Hell for them, grasping their hand and pulling them back to safety.

After all, placing their fate in your hands was a far better alternative than sinking deeper into darkness and one day being inevitably visited in the middle of the night by the Judge of the Damned, having their life taken as the midnight bells rang.

Because of this looming threat, you did your best to save each soul you came across.

In this particular case, it was a young man that had gotten himself in some serious trouble after associating with a dangerous faction of drug dealers. Such business always came with its risks and there was no true loyalty nor help if someone got caught. Moreover, it was common practice to silence the person from revealing the others by simply ordering their assassination in prison. The young man had gotten way in over his head, too ambitious and too confident in his own abilities, intoxicated with the romantic ideas of what he had seen in movies.

His older brothers had approached you for help after his arrest and you had accepted, of course. You would get the boy out of trouble, free of charge, under the condition that he dedicated himself to getting his life back on track and you would be making sure things stayed that way.

Sun was still waiting for you to speak, and the rest of the room was wondering whether or not you were truly speechless this time or if you were simply preparing something spectacular. Of course, it was the latter. You had pulled a lot of strings and cashed in a few favours, but it was all for a good cause. You heard Sun's impatient voice:

“Ready to admit defeat? There is no conceivable way for you to counter any of this evidence, it is over.“

“Only for those that lack the imagination to do so. I call in question the credibility and the competence of your toxicology expert. You cannot claim that my client was in possession or consuming a certain substance, if its chemical components do no even match what you claim it to be.“

“Pure cocaine was found on his person. He has been known to associate himself with dangerous smugglers of forbidden narcotics.“

“A second analysis, that I took the liberty of ordering from another expert, proved that it was mere flour.“

“Excuse me?“

“He is a baker's apprentice. Poor boy, he is just keeping all of that secret out of shame, which is why we did not mention this earlier, by the way. Alas, I cannot keep this silence anymore, for I must act in his best interest. You see, ever since he was a small lad, it was his dream to make fine Danish pastries, but everyone in his general vicinity was obsessed with the whole “dashing gangster“ persona that is so popular right now, so no wonder that this sad young man, just look at his eyes, this poor innocent child tried to emulate all of that simply to get some respect from his cruel peers. So, he walked around with flour and pretended that it was cocaine. It is all because of societal pressure.“

Had Sun been gifted with a detachable jaw, it would have fallen on the floor by now. It was madness. Your claim was pure madness. He wasn't certain, but he did feel as if all of his systems were about to crash down in a sad attempt at self-preservation. Moon's crimson eyes had turned black and he seemed as if he were silently rebooting himself. It was best for everyone to have him unconscious for a bit, otherwise he would have probably gotten violent. The stenographer stopped typing and blinked at you in a very “what the actual hell“ manner and the old judge took his glasses off emphatically as people normally do in such situations for no specific reason other than dramatic effect.

“God, I haven't felt this much excitement since my last divorce.“

The defendant was very much surprised to hear this as well. He gestured for you to come closer and whispered to you:

“I am a baker's apprentice?“

“You are now. Be the role, become the role, make the rolls. Also, you start next Monday at five in the morning, I got everything already arranged with the baker on main street. This whole process should by over by then.“

“What? The only dough I know how to roll is the monetary one.“

“You learn while you live.“

The poor man looked at you with the expression of someone that would really rather just go to prison than go through such blood pressure oscillations.

His brothers, three friendly chaps in dashing suits, homburg hats and leather gloves, were all smiling and holding a thumbs up in encouragement. He turned around to look at them with a genuinely desperate expression. Listening to this nonsense was punishment enough, regardless if he did the crime or not. They had assured him that you were the best, but nobody ever said that your methods were the sanest.

You cleared your throat and spoke up again:

“In light of this and to support these claims, I enclose all the necessary documents and I am prepared to call the relevant new witnesses if you agree, Your Honour.“

“I can adjourn, I personally got no problem with continuing this on a later day of the week. I have to tell you, you kids are keeping me young, I always thought that my later years in life would be boring. Boy, I sure was wrong.“

A partially drunk man from the spectator area began to clap.

“Bravo!“

The bailiff looked over at him.

“What are you clapping for?“

“I thought this was the theatre.“

“It's a courtroom, is what it is.“

“What's the difference?“

Just as you were about to sit down, Moon was suddenly by your side, having miraculously finished his little reboot session and feeling more energized than ever. It was rather concerning, since he was capable of pulling such a stunt within mere seconds, changing location so fast before you could even register it. You had a theory that he was probably capable of some type of flight or teleportation.

You made a little squeak of surprise as you felt his hands on your shoulders, pulling you close to his face plate, crimson eyes trying to cut your soul to shreds. Nevertheless, you refused to lose your decorum and you kept up an air of aristocratic disinterest.

“May I help you, sir?“

“Don't give me that. You know exactly what you are doing. I am not letting you humiliate us like this again.“

“And you are going to make things better for yourself by intimidating me in public like this? I really want to know what the plan is, I'm curious now.“

“Curiosity will kill you one day, little devil fairy.“

“I am certain that satisfaction will bring me back. What exactly do you want from me?“

He squeezed your shoulders and began to lightly massage them. It was oddly pleasurable, since you were tense and tired. Moon's voice was low, raspy, almost a whisper, akin to that of a nocturnal demon that haunted the shadows and ruled over nightmares.

“What goes around comes around and one day I will humiliate you, as well. I will tear those fairy wings apart.“

“Do you think I am afraid of you?“

“You should be. But, yes, I do have an additional request. Meet us in the conference room as soon as we are done here. We wish to talk.“

For a moment it seemed as if the two of you had forgotten that you were in an oddly compromising embrace in front of the entire courtroom. The same man from the spectator area whispered to the bailiff:

“Is this when the smooching starts? I could have sworn I read it somewhere in the play synopsis.“

“This is not the theatre!“

“Listen, Shakespeare once said that the whole world is a stage. He also said that we should kill all the lawyers, though, but I vote that we keep these three here, I need to know what happens next.“

A normal person would refuse to accept Moon's request after his little outburst, but you wished to talk to him and Sun, as well. Perhaps the old saying of “keep your friends close and your enemies closer“ had some wisdom to it, but you also genuinely wished to somewhat make peace with them. Maybe even explain your perspective and your ideas of justice to them. If things got really wild, possibly even form some fragile bond of friendship.

“Alright, I will be there, I just need some time to get my things first and I will also fetch a cup of coffee.“

You pushed him away and he allowed you to do so. However, his gaze was still on you even as everyone had risen and prepared to leave for the day. He watched you as you cheerfully talked with your client and his family, so warm, so caring. They gave you presents to show their appreciation, bags full of chocolates, teddy bears and a ridiculously large plush rabbit. Such whimsical things, childish and ridiculous, and yet your eyes almost had sparkles from how happy you were.

You were considered a beauty by many, but you were not coquettish, ignoring any amorous comments with your usual aristocratic disdain. Your hair was long and soft, well taken care of, but there were always a few little disobedient tufts that almost appeared like tiny and cute devil horns. It was impossible to straighten them out and you simply let them be.

You had a penchant for black pinstripe suits. However, the professional sterness was mitigated by the presence of a star-shaped pink diamond brooch pinned to the striped bow on your chest area. Moon found it conveniently suitable for your “fairy godparent“ aesthetic. The diamond would catch even the faintest amounts of light, reflecting it on surrounding walls to signify that you were approaching. You were wondrous, gentle hues of pink always heralding your arrival.

Sun spoke to him as the two of them made their way to the conference room, distracting him from his reveries:

“They are so cold to us and yet so warm to them. Did you see that smile?“

“Our fairy sees value in miscreants and mongrels. It is only a matter of time before those strays bite the hand that feeds them and then the little fool will come crying to us.“

“It would be cruel of us to refuse them a warm embrace, brother.“

Moon pondered the thought, the potential image of you in a disheveled state, disappointed and heartbroken. There was something wonderfully poetic about the idea of your rose garden withering away. It was a fair trade for all the times you kept trying to ruin their own view of the world. He and Sun were the righteous hands of justice and not even you could protect your little army of demons forever, shielding them with your dark angel wings till one day their final feather crumbles to dust. A misguided fallen little seraph had to have limits.

Sun and Moon waited for good while for you to arrive. Getting coffee was serious business, after all.

The windows in the conference room were covered with Venetian blinds, creating a game of light and shadow, giving it an air of mystery and melancholy. However, the moment you entered, your diamond brooch cast little sparkles of warm pink all over the walls.

You were carrying the bags with gifts and also balancing your coffee cup. It was honestly a miracle you did not spill everything yet. You set it all on the large table and for a moment you almost seemed to have forgotten the two animatronics even existed as you were fiddling with the little treats you had received.

“These chocolates are my favourite. It is a shame you two can't eat, you are missing pure heaven. Now, what exactly did you two want to talk about?“

Sun was very straightforward and went right down to business.

“You cheated, lied and manipulated facts today.“

“Me? I can only aspire to be that productive in one single afternoon.“

“Furthermore, you shamelessly tried to avoid the consequences of losing our little bet.“

“Tell me something: are you more upset about the case or the bet? It seems to me as if the latter is tormenting you more than the former.“

“I am not answering that.“

“If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask like a sensible man, we don't need these convoluted schemes for something that simple.“

“Would you, then?“

“No.“

“See, this is why we need the schemes.“

“Such a tragedy your problems are, Sun.“

You opened another box of chocolates and you were wondering whether to try the one with dark ganache filling or the one with hazelnut cream. You were rudely interrupted when Moon lifted your chin up to look at him.

“You are no longer going to prance around acting as if the justice system is your own personal circus. If we expose what you did today, you will be kicked out of the Lawyers' Association and you will lose your license to practice.“

“That sounds so depressing when you put it that way.“

“I personally can appreciate what you were trying to do for all those people in the past year or so, but enough is enough. We could have offered you a plea bargain, had you only asked us. We are more than happy to settle if those puppies of yours mean that much to you, but they will need to serve time, whether you like it or not.“

“When they get in the system, it's over, it will haunt them and follow them for the rest of their lives, from getting employment all the way to daily life and relationships.“

“None of that is your concern, Y/N. You cannot save everyone.“

“With all due respect, Moon, you have no right to tell me what to do. I do not hate you, but I will not tolerate you being in my way either. Do not be fooled by my kind nature, you have no idea who you are playing with. Dreams can become Nightmares fairly quickly.“

“I am saying all of this because I do not want you to share the same unfortunate fate that keeps repeating itself in your family. Always best friends with the wrong lot. You need to stop fraternizing with criminals, for your own good.“

Moon expected a specific reaction from you with that statement, foolishly assuming that he would hit the right spot, that he would cause fear, pain, uncertainty and a need to run somewhere for some emotional safety. Even Sun knew that he had gone too far with that topic.

You were not having it. Yes, you were a regal and delicate flower. However, that flower was also poisonous and with plenty of thorns. You huffed at him.

“Oh, so we are playing that card now? While we are on the subject of family tradition and dubious practices, I am well aware of the person that gets rid of the truly bad people. Did he ever come for any of my current and recent clients? No. Therefore I don't see why you are so determined to lecture me about helping those that only do crime out of necessity, not evil. If anything, this is just petty revenge because you hate losing and because you are a manipulative jerk with no empathy for the misfortunate, Moon. If you wish to punish someone, start with yourself.“

That certainly did hit a nerve.

Moon went over to the window, pulling the blinds shut and letting the room bathe in darkness, the pink light disappearing. You blinked to adjust your eyes.

“Is this really necessary?

Moon's voice was unusually low, almost a whisper:

"Is darkness not a familiar thing to you, little devil fairy? You certainly seem to linger in the shadows, refusing to see the light, you are blind and unable to grasp reality as it is."

You sighed and shrugged.

"That is still better than believing in blind justice. Also, at least I got the comfort of knowing that Sun over here cannot see anything right now, either.“

The daylight animatronic made a huff at your words.

“I still know the basic layout of the room, thank you very much.“

Sun then leaned over to you and whispered:

“Now, why did you have to tell him all that? He is very touchy on that subject.“

“Well, he started it.“

“And you had to continue it?“

“Yes. I too am allowed to be petty.“

Moon's crimson optics were the only light left and they were getting closer, wicked and menacing. Their glow suddenly disappeared and all that was heard was Moon's malicious cackling. Even with Sun present, you knew you were pretty much screwed and that it was best if you made your merry way in the opposite direction.

An interesting chain of events followed that led to even more interesting consequences. You reached for the nearby bag that had the giant bunny plushie in it, throwing it in the general direction of Moon's laughter, hoping that it would hit him and buy you enough time to run out of the room. However, you miscalculated while waving your hand, accidentally hitting Sun in the face instead. In your defense, you could barely see a damn thing in the dark.

As this happened, Sun stepped backwards out of sheer instinct, bumping right into Moon as he was trying to elegantly sneak up. This caused Moon to lose balance and fall on the floor. As he tried to catch onto the table to pull himself back up, his hand landed directly on the coffee cup and the whole contents spilled over the edge right onto him, ruining his coat, vest and shirt.

Needless to say how much noise you three idiots had made in the process.

You reached for another bag, and you began to swing it around without a care in the world.

“Stay back, both of you, I am armed with plushies and I am not afraid to use them.“

Sun's face kept being caught in the collateral damage, of course. With a swift motion, he managed to catch you and pick you up, placing you on the table and pinning your wrists to it to stop you from further attacking him with such a deadly weapon. Meanwhile, Moon was removing his coffee-stained coat and vest, lamenting how the whole fabric was ruined now.

“This is not how I envisioned this meeting to transpire.“

The whole scene was then interrupted when a clerk opened the door, seeing the two celestial animatronics looming over you while you were lying on the table, Sun holding your wrists and Moon having half his clothes off.

The man blinked a few times, before clapping in joy.

“Oh, my god, finally. I have been placing my bets on the three of you for months. I have to tell the others that they owe me money. They said you three would get together by December, but I was a visionary and I said somewhere in Fall. Ah, passion! Such a fantastic thing. Have fun, you crazy lovebirds, you! I'll tell the group of people that is standing right outside not to disturb you for the next few hours, okay? Okay, take care.“

He closed the door and left, leaving the room in darkness again. A few moments passed and you burst out laughing, unable to control yourself. The situation was absurd and you were starting to love every minute of it.

“I must say, this madness is better than some boring date. We should do it again sometime.“

AO3 Link

[neetily]

↳ EVENT 13. Sebastian & Sam (Hypnosis & Dumbification)

— ✧ warnings: Hypnosis, Dumbification, Squirting, dubcon, Strip Tease, Degradation, Masturbation — ✧ word count: 3,004 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)

— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

As you start to peel off your surely sticky panties, skirt flipped up and pinned to your tummy for their viewing pleasure, Sam's barked laughter earlier rings in his ears. You're lying, he'd said. There's no fucking way, he'd claimed. And yet, as he tilts his head to the side to gloat about just how wrong his best friend truly was, he's met only with wide eyes and an open mouth in shock.

Well, that and the growing bulge in Sam's pants.

See, Sebastian thinks to himself, too afraid to speak his dirty mind out loud in fear of disrupting the spell he currently has on you. I told ya so he attempts to communicate to Sam telepathically, eager to rub you in his besties face. A tent forming in his own tight jeans at the mere sound of your sinful shuffles of clothes, a lewd reminder of why he's gathered you both in his house tonight. You let out a sigh of relief, ringing his gaze back to you like a siren call, a soft smile on his lips at the way your eye glaze over his own. How fucking empty they look, a perfect match for your dumb little brain, right pretty girl? He wants more than anything to show Sam what a good girl you can be for him, make good on his promise to him that you'd listen well, and that you'd put on a good show. And so far, you've got his cock aching. Sam seems to be feeling much the same, given the fact that Sebastian can see him shift around uncomfortably through the corner of his eye.

Probably because you look so pretty undressing, not a single thought behind those glassy eyes, a perfect little doll for him them to play with— just like he'd said to Sam, catching him bouncing his leg beside him. Only, Sebastian knows it's not a nervous bounce. Far from it, actually. Rather, something more akin to frustration, right? Like, God, you're so fucking sexy, y'know that? Stepping out from your see through underwear, globs of slick just drooling from your exposed cunt, tacky on your thighs for the light to shine against. Pretty, from the way you move your body, slow and sluggish thanks to the hypnosis spell Sebastian has unknowingly forced you to endure, as if you were sin incarnate. Softly swaying your hips in a seductive manner for your two man show, all that's missing is the showgirl smile he so often compliments you on.

But don't you think that the dumb drooling expression you now wear suits you just as well? Makes his cock all twitchy, throbbing in his pants when you drag your nails up your hips, further to your tummy— fuck, the way you shiver into your lewd touch is so fucking cute— continuing all the way until you reach under your shirt and you start to toy with the hem of the fabric just to tease your audience some more.

"Good at it, ain't she?" He speaks up, though doesn't dare take his eyes off you for a single second, tongue poking out to wet his lips in concentration. And when he neglects to immediately receive a reply from Sam, he continues. "Every night."

What he's alluding to is obvious, slouching in his computer chair like some sort of sleaze, open palm flat against his growing erection as you continue to slowly strip for them; an every night occurrence for him. And yet, though he's seen this sight plenty times before now, whispering sweet nothings down your ear to leave you dumb and vulnerable under his hypnosis, he still can't quite get over the sight of your shirt getting lifted. How your tummy stretches with your movements, how cute you are and how much he wants to kiss all over your abdomen. The pretty bra he bought you to wear in preparation for tonight looks good on you too, a soft gasp escaping him when that too drops to the floor with the rest of your clothing.

All that's left is your skirt, too short to be worn outside; he'd fucking kill you if you did that. But bought specifically for tonight, his tummy filled with lust seeking butterflies at the memory of helping your stupid numb legs hook through them properly in time before Sam arrived for the evening.

"Still can't believe it..." Sam finally half laughs, though his tone bares more resemblance to serious concern than anything more light-hearted. "Got your own private stripper, insane."

And Sebastian supposes it is, his own secret little slut, coaxed into stripping for him under more than dubious consent. It's something he learned from the old coot in that even older tower, a gift or something. And for a while he didn't really have any use for the magic words, holding onto them for some imaginary perfect moment.

But all it really took to eventually convince him to use the spell on you was a horny night. Cock deep in your cunt, drooling over your pretty tits, huffing from how fast he was thrusting into you, the bed under him creaking ridiculously against the old wood floorboards of his room. But he wanted more. Wanted to fuck you so well that your brain switched off and he could really enjoy you, y'know? Leaning down to reach your ear, whispering those prized words he'll take to his grave. And almost immediately he witnessed something switch in you. Brainless, much like how you are now. Mind-fucked stupid on his fat cock, a dumb pretty girl for him to use and abuse as much as he'd like. Sure, maybe he should have asked before hypnotising you like that; but fuck, can you blame him from doing it again and again when you become the perfect little fuck toy for him every single night? It's so fucking addictive to him, unzipping his pants to let his drooling cock free, wincing a little as he lifts his hoodie enough to let the tip slap against his tensed tummy. String of precum connecting, like the one between your legs.

"Wow," He hears Sam sigh, a brief clearing of his throat, followed by: "Just like that?"

Sam eyes up his cock, and Sebastian shakes it a few times at him as some form of response. Tugging on the tip and relaxing into the feeling by shifting his weight further down the chair to fully enjoy your show. "Whenever y'want, really." He answers simply before returning his full attention to you and the way you slither your skirt down, hypnotised himself by the way you swing your hips from side to side like a practiced dancer. You look so pretty in it, all dolled up just for him and Sam. But when the fabric drops and you're stark naked in the middle of his basement room, he thinks you might look even better like that. His cock quickly agreeing with a fat bead of precum dripping over his fingers, convincing him to start pumping at his full length absentmindedly. Just an easy up and down, there's plenty time left of your show tonight, isn't there? And he wants to enjoy you, wring you out for every drop of slick your angel cunt wants to offer him and his best friend.

Because while this night might have started as a way for him to prove himself an honest man, showing Sam instead of telling him all about your night time activities; it's also just fun to show you off in such a dirty way. To have someone else drooling over you, right? So pretty, it's obvious that Sam thinks so too when he hears the unbuckling of his belt and the swift thud of jeans dropping to ankles.

But he can't tear his eyes off of you, barely stroking his own cock to the sight of you getting on all fours like he's made you practice before, but the sliver of drool that drips down your pretty pouty lips as you start to crawl closer to him is so fucking hot, has his skin all tingly under your mindless gaze.

"Stop." He commands of you when you get close enough, tummy flipping with adoration when you perfectly adhere to his instructions, the gasp Sam lets out in return for your obedience filling him with pride. "Sit and lean back, 'kay?"

His eyes narrow on you as you shakily get into position, catching the way your thighs tremble when you spread them like you were taught to. And oh the sight you grace him with, pretty little slit glistening in the light, your bottom lip quivering before him as he eye fucks you up and down. It doesn't help that Sam gives you a hearty wolf whistle too, soon accompanied by a fast, wet, fap! sound.

Well, isn't that so nice of him? Look, he's showing you how much he likes you, baby. Sebastian figures he might as well join in, throat dry at how wet you are already, voice almost lost on him as he starts to jerk off right in front of you with Sam. So fucking hot considering how utterly debauched the whole scene is. Just two friends, masturbating openly and fervently to you, you who is currently hypnotised and has no fucking idea what's going on, what you're doing to yourself. Dumb, stupid, braindead little you. Nothing more than a mere toy for them in the moment, a life sized doll for them to play with. Talking about you as if you weren't really there, and Sebastian laughs inwardly at the thought that that's partially true— there's no one home right now in your head, is there? Less of a human being with autonomy and more like walking holes begging to be used.

Speaking of holes; "Touch yourself for us, would you?" He implores you, and of course you follow orders.

Atta girl, his chest tight with all the love and affection he regards you with when you dip your hand down between your legs, eyes boring back into his until you brush a pad up your slit, and the way your lashes flutter shut into the too sensitive touch has his cock leaking some more for you, fist wrapping tighter around the fat of his length to really provide some friction, satisfied sighs crawling up his throat when you immediately take to circling your pretty little clit the moment you remember it's there.

Confidence courses through him, the metaphorical ringleader of tonight as you heed his words immediately, just like how a good girl should. Deep down he knows that you'd abide by his word in private just like how you are now, but would you be comfortable enough to have Sam watch too? Would you let loose as instantly as you have right now without the hypnotism? Your fingers sticky with slick, coating your hand and thighs with how much of it gushes out of you, the hand on his cock stroking in time with your movements as you dip down to gather more wetness between your digits only to rub them sloppily against your clit again.

God he wants a taste. Wants to clean you up himself, stick his pulsing tip between your gushy folds and hump himself silly until he's as fucked stupid as you are. A mess of fluids, a pile of limbs, gasping and grasping and tugging and pulling and fuck he loves you. Loves it when you don't have the capacity to think for yourself, waiting on his next instructions like a dog on a leash. Do you even understand how good that makes him feel? Cock rock hard and heavy in his pervert palm, squeezing at the base a few times to stave off his fast approaching orgasm just because you're listening to him?

"Shit— Tell 'er— fuck," Sam struggles with his words, and a brief—really brief, a mere few seconds—look over at him has Sebastian choking on air. One hand carding through his hair, the other pumping furiously at his cock. Sam looks so pretty too, he thinks. Inviting him was a good idea after all, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in horny frustration. You win his attention span in the end, a whispered moan catching his focus as his head snaps back to you, eagerly awaiting Sam's request. A request, not a demand. Not like how Sebastian orders you around like you're performing party tricks. Good boy, he knows his place.

He understands Sam, though. The breathlessness, the strained muscles, arm taut with the amount of resistance it takes not to fucking pounce you when you're in such an exposed state, soft and pliable and fuckable on the floor, presenting yourself to their hungry mouths and throbbing cocks simply because he said so. Isn't that so fucking hot? He gets it, because he feels the exact same way as his friend does. Desperate.

"Tell 'er to— y'know, keep goin' an'— fuck, please."

Yeah. Yeah, yeah yeah. Too busy fucking his fist to the self indulgent thoughts he has about you, a little more show couldn't hurt, right? Why not go all the way when you can't fight back, idly thumbing away at his slit to help ease off the pent up tension in his core, the tight feeling in his balls simply from looking at you enjoying yourself. Pretty girl, doesn't it feel nice to not think for a while? Bet you wanna go a lil further yourself too, right? Pretty girls like you always wanna have all the attention, right? Well go on;

"Wanna watch you finger yourself—" He groans, panting for air the moment you dip a single finger into your sopping cunt, soaked little hole swallowing it up with such ease that he can only imagine how it'd feel to sink his cock in there. Get him all coated in your sticky slick, shit. He can't believe he's jealous of your fingers.

But watching you pleasure yourself is fun enough, allowing him full freedom of movement to hump his hips up a little, fucking into his hand as if it were your cunt instead. Pretending that it's his cock that's making you moan like that, that it's him that's making your back arch when you bury your hand knuckle deep in your hole, cunt oozing around your finger until you add another one. The cute scrunched up expression you wear when you start curling against that spot— it's too much. You're too much for him, especially when you start lifting your hips up in a seeking of more, a silent beg of: touch me! touch me! fuck me!

And he wants to comply, wants to crawl over to you and sink so deep into your pretty slit, slobber all over your tits like a bitch in heat. And he's sure Sam wants to do just the same, how hard it is for his friend to breathe, all rushed gasps and choked sighs. The chair under him squeaking with how fast he jerks off, Sebastian too ending up making a lot of noise from how hard he thrusts into his fist. He just wants to fuck you, okay? Doesn't care about how embarrassing his movements might be, literally fucking the air while you finger fuck yourself, there's pleasure to be had in making himself wait for it. Let you fuck yourself open first, and then he'll indulge himself. Maybe he'll even let Sam have a shot of you too, cause from the greedy moans that sound beside him, he thinks Sam might be struggling just as much as he is right now.

By the time a minute has passed of your cunt getting stretched by your dumb fingers, he can notice you shake. The barely there tremble of someone who's close, right? It's so cute, the way you mumble for him. How you can't even form a single coherent sentence, and the fact that he's not sure if that's due to the hypnotism or because you've fucked yourself so well that you can no longer speak, either option causes the knot in his core to tighten. An intrinsic need— not a want. One more thrust of your fingers inside and it snaps with you, a chain reaction effect. Your cunt, squirting at him, a muffled sob of a moan that he wants to fuck outta you again and again in the near future, fluids spurting out towards him as you pump in an out of your pretty hole and staining the floor all slippery. Silly girl, did you not know that you could do that? The look of shock on your face is so good, he wants a picture of it. And oh how pretty you are when you shake, convulsed on the floor when you don't stop rubbing and stroking your abused insides, milking yourself for his own selfish pleasure when he cums soon after. Fat strings shot your way, landing with thick splats on the wood below him to mix with your squirt. Gross, isn't it? How the fact that such degenerate behaviour only turns him on more, has him standing up and proudly thrusting his cumming cock your way as a reward for making him feel so good. And Sam, last but not least. Cursing under his breath as he at least tries to cum into his hand, but your performance has unfortunately turned him on too much, and puddles of it form below him, seeping through his fingers as you buck and moan all pretty like that.

But before he can catch his breath enough to tell you to stop, conscious of the fact that you're awaiting a command, he finds himself instead walking towards you. Cum glazed cock in hand, chest heaving, steps heavy.

"Lay down." He mutters, kneeling down with you to line his tip up to your twitching hole. "Spread your cunt for me."

Sam, huffing behind him, scrambles to arrive at his front row seat to your demise.

[jflemings]

Emily Fox + ex childhood sweetheart who reconnect years later (second chance trope) where both are too stubborn to admit that they still care for each other and it leads to an angry confession, “It just— it feels like I can never love someone else the way I loved you.” (feel free to go heavy on the angst, the way you write angst is so chef's kiss)

— the way i loved you

emily fox x reader

a/n: changed a quote a lil bit, but it’s still the same energy

ficlet

since you and emily split during your freshman year of college, there hadn’t been anybody else. not truely. you had tried really hard. tried the apps and blind dating and chance encounters, you tried sleeping around and almost committing and even a workplace romance, but nothing stuck.

the two of you had grown up together and started dating at the end of middle school after she kissed you because of a dare. your close friend kayla was hosting an end of school sleepover with your group of friends, and all was going well until she decided to challenge emily to kiss you.

it was merely a peck to please your friend, but it had opened the floodgates.

feelings progressed and you mindlessly pined for your best friend until she told you that she liked you and that if you for the same, she would like to be your girlfriend. it was the definition of puppy love and the two of you continued like that until the day you broke up.

now, life has lead you here, to arsenal’s media team and you’d be lying if you said that emily’s transfer to the club had nothing to do with it. only, when you got to the club she acted like she wanted nothing to do with you outside of work.

you suggested coffee or drinks to catch up and she brushed you off in a hurry, claiming that her schedule was just too packed. you accepted the excuse and persisted, offering to do dinner at yours or go on a walk together, but she was adamant that she just didn’t have the time for any of it. or for you.

you were confused and hurt, and the unspoken feelings bubbled over. you stopped trying. stopped trying to talk to her, stopped trying to get her attention, stopped trying to be nice. if you didn’t need to interact with her for work, you didn’t interact with her at all.

this went on for weeks before she turned up on your doorstep soaked to the bone from the rain.

you open your door after persistent knocking, not even looking through the peephole as you fling your door open. you’re just about to give a mouthful to whoever has decided to interrupt your dinner when you realise it’s emily.

her eyes are pleading “why are you ignoring me”

you can’t help but scoff “talk to me when you have time for me, em” you say sarcastically as you go to close the door.

she slams her palm against the wood “i have time for you”

“so blowing me off was, what? completely unintentional? be for real, emily, you were blowing me off” you shake your head at her audacity “and now that i’ve stopped trying, you’ve decided that you can just show up at my house”

“it’s not like that”

“then what’s it like?”

emily pushes her wet hair out of her face “it was hard seeing you again after years of no contact! i mean, really, how did you think it was going to go? did you think everything would go back to normal?”

“the loss of normalcy wasn’t my fault” you spit as you cross your arms “you broke up with me”

“and i have regretted it since!” her voice jumps “please, give me the time”

“i tried and you didn’t want it!” you match her tone and throw your arms out

“i did!” she begins to shout “oh my god, all i wanted was to see you, to have you again, but i was scared!”

“and you didn’t think i was? emily, i took a chance moving to the other side of the world to try to reconnect with you because, apparently, i can’t love anybody the way i loved you!” you shout as tears begin to well in your eyes “you have plagued me since the day you left me”

you can see the gunner’s eyes go glassy even through the rain. her windbreaker and sweatpants are soaked, and you’re sure that the uggs on her feet don’t feel good judging how wet they look.

she frowns and reaches for your hand. you look down at her outstretched fingers and slowly take your hand off the doorknob so that she can intertwine your fingers.

“i’m sorry” she says “for everything. for ending things, for brushing you off, for making you feel unwanted. none of it reflects how i truely feel”

you nod along as she tightens the grip on your hand. you wipe your tears with the back of your hand.

“and i would love if you gave me the opportunity to make it up to you”

you bite your lip before grabbing the collar of her jacket and pulling her into you, crashing your lips together messily. her wet hair tickles your face and you’re sure that you’re going to have an emily-shaped wet patch all down the front of your nice warm clothes, but you don’t have it in you to care.

“dinner’s on the table” you mumble into her lips “would you like to come in?”

she pulls away from you “of course” she smiled shyly at you before squeezing your hand “do you think i could get a towel as well?”

[ur-mousey]

Kiss Up, Bitch ~

- Class of 09' Nicole x Jecka -

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Imagine! Nicole prowling around the pool deck. Her back was on fire from the glare of the sun. People screeched around her like drowning pelicans. And beach balls spun in the air, taking shots at her temple.

She'd already dodged three.

And, she realized seven shots in that her brain didn't cast out the summer day noises, but amplified them.

Every soft whisper played on a loop -especially Ari's gay ass. She just wanted all of them to shut up. It's her shit luck that she found herself at Kylar's Poolside Extravaganza.

Ari sang I Kissed a Girl at a high-pitched chirp. She lounged on a pink sprinkle donut floaty, incapable of keeping herself upright without it.

Each word carried over the pool's lazy currents and under the blast of heavy rap music straight toward Nicole's pulsing head.

The taste of her cherry chapstick, I kissed a girl just to try it, I hope my boyfriend don't mind it.

Nicole's amounting anger might have been due to the fresh breakup, but, being tone-deaf should be a crime. Maybe it's true that gay girls can't sing.

Imagine! Nicole found irony in the last line. I hope my boyfriend don't mind it -It suited Ari. She was yet another weak-minded lesbian, now, off the streets due to Nicole's intervention. For all she cared, she did God's work.

But, Jecka saw it as immoral. Bullying should be reserved for all men prone to violence, not turning a *slur* bitch into being straight.

*she got censored*

If you're gonna backpedal on your sexuality, never claim it to begin with. You can't handle one toxic bitch, then maybe, you were never meant to handle a woman at all.

Ari will forever be dicked down. And in the middle of the night, after receiving minimal pleasure from her dozed-off boyfriend, she'll think, 'I miss that slutty whore Nicole who demeaned me but gave amazing head. I wonder if I called her up now, would she burn cigs out on my thighs and make me her toy. What a wild lesbian ride we could have.'

Imagine! Nicole shaking her head, she whispered, "What the fuck." To be frustrated over Ari came naturally and callously. She wondered as she tossed and turned in bed. Wondering where it stemmed from.

When she found the answer, she never wished to admit it aloud. Nicole found trouble making the first move herself.

And the alcohol buzzed a bright idea to the forefront of her mind. Could the opposite apply? Can she turn a straight-girl gay?

Time to fuck with Jecka. As a friend, not a lover.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Imagine! Jecka lying in the bed of a truck, snuffing her cig out on the bed of it. Her feet were lifted and parallel to the back of the seats. Her 'date' whisked away to tabletop drinking games.

It's not her's obvi -the truck. She drives a cute white mini buggy. Her steering wheel cover was made of pink tuffs that were always soft in her gripe.

Teenage boys seemed far off, yelling obscenities while daring each other to jump off the second-story balcony into the pool. Oh, how it filled the void of the cul-de-sac.

"How fucking white?" Jecka muttered to herself.

Did Kylar even invite black kids? There was Emily, Hunter, Braxton, Ari, Nicole... Yeah, everyone's white.

Imagine! Jecka nodding off while the sun fades in and out behind her closed lids. She's wearing a classic two-piece that's tied on both hips in the color sapphire blue. It wasn't a color she adorned often. The set complimented her pale fawnskin, and it brought out the pinks of her cheeks.

She should wear sapphire more often.

Jecka knew that she was stunning in pinks. She often wore millennial pink crop tees with baby blue low rises.

But never did she wear a deeper blue, the color of the ocean's depths, awaiting to drown her.

Imagine! Jecka, on the cusp of sleep, heard the call of her name. Far off at first, then beside her ear after multiple turns. A finger wrapped around her bouncy curls. Jecka stirred awake. One eye lifted to see a pair of sapphire blues. Oh, it was Nicole.

"Wakey, wakery~" Nicole purred over her. "I've been looking for you."

"Found me," Jecka hummed. She closed her eyes once more. "I don't think I wanna."

"No?" Nicole leaned closer to her best friend. She reached over Jecka to the floppy bow on her hip that kept her bottoms secured. "I could... wake you up some. Example, I could go down on you?"

Jecka squinted up, "No. What the fuck? Not interested. Let me return to sunbathing."

Imagine! Jecka waved Nicole's sexual harassment aside and settled back into a half-dreaming state. "Napping is Sunbathing to you?"

"Yeah, I get both done at once. I'm outside. Duuuuh. Wake me later if I start to get burned."

Nicole flopped onto her belly, she kicked her legs out from under her quicker than she could fathom. "Not happening, I think we should at least make out. Spice it up. This friendship is dull." Her nose brushed along Jecka's neck. She took a tentative inhale before her teeth took a steady hold that made the blonde yelp.

Her skin slotted perfectly in her jaw.

"What is wrong with you, Nicole?" The beach wave blonde squirmed her neck out of its entrapments. Jecka rolled onto her belly, face-to-face with the narcissist in question. "What needs to be spiced up is food, Nicole. If you're that horny to makeout with me, find Ari. I bet she'll loooove the attention."

Imagine! The brunette pouted at the thought. "I don't want her."

Jecka's nose turned up. "Then what? Sorry to break it to you. I'm not gay. Find Emily, she's obsessed with you. I'm kinda surprised that she never slept with a girl before so add her to the roster of virgins you've deflowered." And after the end of her little spiel, Nicole attacked.

And Jecka vaguely heard, "Kiss up, bitch."

Nicole's tongue was in her mouth, and Jecka squealed. It fit snuggly between the gap of her teeth. The tang of tequila was hot on Jecka's breath. Nicole's tongue flickered over hers, running over her teeth. A whine spilled between them. Who knew a girl's lips were this soft.

Jecka tried shoving Nicole aside to little avail. Maybe it was futile to resist sapphire eyes. Even when shut, they drowned Jecka's mind.

'Was she wearing cherry chapstick?' She thought, swimming with the waves that would surely cast her adrift.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading! Request rules are here! Follow my ig = lil.thoughts.xo!

[dira333]

Spa-Day - Kyoutani x Reader

@notsochillnerd I did it, woohoo

The water is hot, but not too hot. If you could stay here forever, you probably would, floating on clouds of scented foam. The background music is a little annoying, but you can blend out the brainless tunes.

You put your head underwater, let your hair float until you have to come back up for air.

The sight has you squealing like a mouse, jumping back on instinct.

Kentarō is scowling at you, brows furrowed, nose barely above water level. He looks like he's just done planning your murder. And the murder of your family.

"Baby!" You press a hand to your chest, heart racing underneath your wrinkled skin. "You scared the shit out of me."

His brows unfurl and he blinks, one, two, three times.

"Sorry," he mumbles, voice so low you can barely catch it over the music and the sloshing of water. But you can feel his hands grab you by the hips, pull you in like he always does. "Didn't mean to."

"What got you so upset?" You ask, hands running through his wet hair. He's sitting on a ledge in the shallow part of the pool, a place that's normally bustling with activity, especially when the jacuzzi jets are turned on. But you always go to the bath in the early morning , when the pools are almost empty and no chatter drones out the annoying music.

"Nothing," Kentarō claims, "I think it's the music."

"Nuh-uh," it's your turn to furrow your brows at him. "You're lying. You know I can tell when you're lying. Tell me? Please?"

"Fine," He huffs, wrinkled fingertips playing with the strings of your bikini top. "Seno made a stupid comment at training."

"What about?"

He huffs again. Averts his eyes. You dig your fingertips into his side, right where he's the most ticklish. He pulls back and glares, but he opens his mouth.

"Spa Days are unmanly, apparently."

You snort. "Says who?"

"Seno."

"And Seno is the world's leading expert on manliness since when?"

Kentarō's lips pull up, even if just a little.

"Well, I told him to shove it, but... I don't know... it kinda stuck? I was thinking about it just now."

"Hmm..." You playfully put a finger against your lip as if you have to think really hard about it. "If you ask me, you're really manly. The manliest of them all. You could wear pink shirts to work and you'd still not lose any manliness."

Kentarō grins, proud and a little smug. He knows just how well he pulled of that pink shirt last date night.

"And?"

"And you never care about what other people think," you remind him, pressing a kiss between his brows before they start to furrow again, "So I don't think you should start doing that now. Especially not when it's Seno, who begged me to give him my friend's number."

"You're so right," Kentarō pulls you in.

Your proud grin vanishes just seconds later when he lifts you into the air.

"Don't you dare-" He drops like a stone, and you fall with him, pressed to his chest.

When you come back up, sputtering water and hair sticking to the side of your head, Kentarō's grinning from one ear to the other.

He looks so cute, you can't even be mad.

But he better watch out, because you're going to dunk him next chance you get.

my Kofi if you want to tip me

[starlightshadowsworld]

Jason but he was never claimed.

Everyone knows he's the son of Jupiter.

He's known his whole life.

From his mother's whispers to not cry in storms, for they were a sign of his father's love.

To Lupa's howls and harsh temperament that this was not behaviour fitting Jupiter's son.

But never was Jason ever claimed.

There was never a lighting bolt dancing overhead.

No fanfare.

No cheers.

Because Thalia had a use, and she was favoured.

The one he actually tried to save instead of turning a blind eye.

But Jason?

He was the bitter reminder of a mortal having sway over the God's.

Over Jupiter himself.

He was nothing but afaceless soilder raised to fall in battle when his time was up.

Why should the King himself care for one so... Pitiful.

So Jupiter never claimed him.

Didn't acknowledge him until Jason dare spoke out against him.

But Jupiter always knew exactly who that boy was.

He even named him.

He just didn't care.

Jason knew, had known but it was something he never shared.

It was a dark secret, a shameful one.

For you see without being claimed, Jason could never access his full power.

He heard the laughter, the mocks and the digs.

Of how could the Prince of the Sky's be so weak.

Luckily he'd never had another like him to measure up to at Camp Jupiter.

... Which lead him to the bittersweet reunion with his sister.

Thalia was every bit the striking daughter of Zeus.

She even looked like him while Jason shamefully resembled their mother.

Thalia never put him down, never even insinuated he was weak.

Even glaring down anyone she caught whispering at his expense.

But Jason could see the confusion on her face when he failed something she did like breathing.

He would just smile and try again to no avail.

He waited for the day she left him too.

It came to ahead one night when his friends were all there. Laughing and smiling till their cheeks went red.

"And the dress! Ugh it was so embarrassing." Cries Piper, setting off another wave off laughter.

"Oh man, I'm glad I didn't get a dress. I'd burn it off." Declared Thalia with a snort before lightly elbowing Jason.

"Lucky we just got the lighting treatment, ey Jason?" Jason paused, nodding immediately "right..."

Something must've shown on his face because Thalia frowned.

But the one to ask was Leo "hey yeah we never saw yours! Must've been something special for Mr Prince of the Universe himself. Sooo what it was like?"

Jason looked down.

He shouldn't say it, but they were all looking at him expectantly.

He didn't want to let them down.

... But what if they left him because of it?

Sure they fought a war together but Jason learned quickly that can sometimes mean nothing.

But lying to them almost felt worse.

"I... I don't know..."

"What? Sorry can you, say that louder? Can't hear you man."

"I don't...I don't, I wasn't..." He took a deep breathe. "I don't know what it was like because I wasn't... I haven't been claimed."

Silence.

Dread filled his bones, Jason didn't dare look up to see the disgust on their faces.

"That bastard!"

Jason blinked in suprise, hesitantly looking up.

And finding anger.

But not aimed at him.

"How... How are you... How are you still alive?!" Cried Thalia, anger blazed through her eyes.

But there was very clearly fear alongside of them.

Jason didn't understand.

"Before I got claimed I couldn't use my powers without getting tired so damn easily...and that was just your run of the mill monsters..." explained Thalia, seething.

Jason had fought "run of the mill monsters" since he could walk.

Percy clenched his fist "I knew he wouldn't keep his damn promise but... This is low even for him."

His eyes widened in realisation. And gave way to more anger.

"He knew... He knew this whole time! And he didn't do anything! We were fighting Gaea and he didn't..."

No one wanted to add on that it wasn't the first war either.

Jason felt tears well up in his eyes, he'd never known it to be an injustice against him.

He always thought he had deserved it. And he was supposed to die anyway soo... Why waste your powers unlocking his?

.... And by the look of horror everuone was giving him, Jason had spoken that part out loud.

"Jase...you are not a waste of anything. None of this was your fault." Said Piper firmly, angry tears in her eyes.

"She's right, none of this is right...which is why I have half a mind to go ask him what the Hades he was thinking..." Seethed Annabeth.

Nico nodded, his anger was quiet but simmering along the surface.

"I don't get why your so mad at him though... I should've... I should've been better." Said Jason, he'd never experienced something like this before.

If he wasn't so useless maybe his father would've cared about him.

"Besides, I already knew I was his son, that he didn't want me...I always have."

That little admission broke of all their hearts.

"That doesn't make this right Jase, and I know deep down you know that." Said Thalia, gently pulling him into a hug.

"We're gonna fix this, because you deserve it. You deserve so much and I'm going to spend every day of my life proving that to you."

"Me two."

"Me three."

They all began chiming in.

Tears spilled from Jason's cheeks, and for once Lupa's yells of them being weakness fell on death ears.

He was loved.

Jason rested his head on his sisters shoulder as everyone began brainstorming, threathing and maiming.

It was the most loved he'd ever felt.

Jason had always known Jupiter hadn't loved him back.

Would never love him back.

Jason had given up on anyone truly caring about him... And now he knew that he was loved by his little family.

It was worth more than his father's praise ever could.

"You think re-stealing the master bolt might do it?"

"Let's try to make sure we're still alive after this."

"... So that's a no?"

[ahgasegotarmy116]

what was jk’s initial reaction to the revelation? Like after oc went outside to cool off and he was left with Jared and Jina. Did he tell them off? I really wanted to see what he would tell Jared since he was apperantly giving him the stink eye for a while now

"Jina" I call after her as I watch her stalking towards Jared as he walks back into the house after chasing y/n. "What?" she spits out, whipping her head back around to face me. 

"Wanna try that again?" I ask, cocking a brow at her and she stiffens after realizing what she had done. "I'm sorry dad I just...well Jared he-" "What were you thinking Jina? Sneaking around with your best friend's boyfriend? Oh I'm sorry her fiancé" I say, throwing it back at her again to instill further guilt. "I raised you better than this and you know that" I growl out, trying to keep my anger at bay. 

"How could you do this? Y/n was your first and from what I can see only true friend you've had since we moved here. Why would you do something that cruel?" I ask, clearly not understanding how my own daughter could cause someone that we both care about such heartbreak.

"I don't know dad it just happened okay. There's nothing I can do about it now so can we just drop it already?" she says, her head on a swivel, no doubt looking for where Jared had disappeared to. "No we can't just drop it. I expect to see you and Jared in my study. Now!" I bark out and her whole body stiffens in fear before running off to find him. 

~~~~

I hear a faint knock at the door and grant them entry without even glancing up. 

"You wanted to see us?" Jared asks with that all to familiar arrogant tone. "Sit" I bark out and they both take a seat at the two chairs I have placed in front of my desk.  I stand up and glare down at Jared thinking about how easy it would be to snap his neck right now. 

He's been a thorn in my side ever since Jina brought him and y/n over to the house for the first time and I've been waiting for the day I could put him in place. Although I wish it was under different circumstances. 

His gaze always full of lust towards both of them when they weren't looking but oh how I saw it. I saw it every damn time and I kept my mouth shut mistakenly thinking that my daughter would stay as far away from him in terms of anything more than a platonic friendship and even that had me grinding my teeth at the thought. 

"You're lucky you're not six feet under for what you did to y/n and Jina" I growl at him, holding myself back from hurting him. "Are you serious? She came onto me" he claims but I know without even looking at Jina that it's a lie. 

"Oh yeah and so I guess you really don't have much of a brain if you couldn't tell her no or get her off of you. Or did you even try?" I add, cocking my head, cracking my neck in the process to gain some form of relief from the stiffness that come over me after I heard those devastating words leave y/n's mouth. 

"Right" I say, filling up the silence Jared had left, all of us knowing he would be lying if he said otherwise. I take a deep breath before turning my back to them to compose myself before saying another word. 

"I'm keeping the baby dad" she says, making the choice I was sure she would've made anyway, at least this way one less person has to suffer. Life might've been seen as being 'better' if she had taken the easy way out but we all know that we would've felt their absence everyday if she had. 

"Did he force himself on you?" I ask her, not daring to look him in the eye otherwise I might snap. "Are you seriously asking if I raped her?" Jared says, getting up out of his chair and after that I'm at my limit and loom over him and look him dead in the eye, this time asking him the question since he so eagerly jumped in before she could answer. 

"Yeah Jared I am. Did you rape my daughter" I growl out, praying to anyone who might hear me that the answer is no. "No I didn't fucking rape her" he grits his teeth and flares his nostrils, clearly trying and failing to intimidate me. 

"He got me drunk dad but I said yes" Jina admits to me and before Jared gets whatever insult that had been bubbling in his throat out my fist collides with his face, leaving him falling to the floor and coughing back the pain from the blow. 

"Fuck" he groans out as he staggers up to his feet. 

"If I catch you anywhere near this house. If I see you touching either one of them I will gut you from the inside out you hear me?" I bark out at him and he flinches back at the volume, now knowing that violence is not beneath me when it comes to my girls. 

"Yes sir" he says, hissing at the sting of his busted lip. "Get the hell out of my sight" I say and turn my back to him again and hear him stalk out of my office and out the front door. 

"Dad why-" "Why did I what? Punch the guy who got my daughter vulnerable enough to be able to convince her to have sex with him and is now pregnant with his baby? Are you really asking me why I did that?" I scoff and she tries to speak again but I cut her off before she can say anything else. 

"How long?" I question, waiting for the answer and dreading the number. "Wha-" "How long have you been sleeping with him Jina for fucks sake just answer the question" I shout and watch her cower back into her chair. 

"Why are you talking to me like this? You've never yelled at me before" she asks, making my heart break as I see glimpses of the broken little girl I know she hides inside of her but not letting up because I know she needs discipline and not sympathy right now. 

"How, long?" I say again, emphasizing each word. "Six months" she whispers out, cringing at revealing the shameful amount of time they had spent together. "How far along are you?" I question, this time a bit gentler. "Two months" she says even quieter than the last. 

"Do you have a doctor?" I question, wanting to make sure that she and the baby are being looked after properly. "Not yet" she says hanging her head, finally letting her shame consume her entire being. "Get one and tell me the name so I can cover the costs" I say, my back turned to her, trying to withhold that part of me that wants to hold her and tell her everything is going to be okay. But she fucked up, and she deserves to feel the guilt and the shame of her actions for a while now that it's out in the open.

"Dad I can-" "This isn't open for discussion Jina. Find a doctor and send me their information or I will find one for you myself. Now leave, I don't want you coming back here until I say so" I say, keeping my voice as level as I can. 

"But dad I-" "No Jina, go. We'll discuss this later" I say, leaving the room before I have a chance to lose my resolve and go to the nearest bedroom to calm down before seeing the rest of our lingering guests out. 

~~~~~

Hope this answered your question hehe

Thanks for the ask love 🥰

[casteliacityramen]

Impossible.

Rio stared, dumbfounded, to the heavens as she lay on her back. She charged at the intruder with a steel wing, but he caught her attack between his palms and threw her onto the ground like a rag doll. She thought the first time was a fluke, but if he was able to do it a second time…

The dust cleared from her vision to reveal the cloudless sky. The sun suddenly felt all too bright and all too revealing.

"How?" Rio asked, lying still on the ground with her wings spread flat on the dry dirt, "How did you catch that?"

"You might be the strongest wyvern on Twist Mountain," The Hero King of Ideals beamed, "but I'm the baddest living thing on the West side of this continent!"

The Hero placed his hands on his hips, took a deep inhale through his nose, and laughed out his exhale.

"Hah! I miss how simple this is," the Hero brushed a lock of light green hair away from his face, "'Might makes right' is the easiest governing system of all. Just be the strongest and you get to make all the rules!"

Rio craned her neck upwards off the ground to glare at this… naked mankey. This sack of meat and bone who dared to trespass into her territory and challenge her authority. The same one who dared to claim that he was the strongest person here, in front of her.

She's beaten everything from a raging Hydreigon to an entire Durant colony. Ever since she was born, she fought wing, fang, and talon to establish herself on this mountain. Her mountain.

This is beyond insulting!

"Your Majesty, your hands-"

"Ah, what of them? This is nothing!" The King turned towards his group of bodyguards and raised both his clenched fists into the air. Small trickles of blood dripped from under his tattered gloves and down onto his forearms.

"I haven't had this much excitement in years!" The Hero King exclaimed. His face fell a little when his company provided concerned glances instead of the roars and cheers that he was typically used to.

He turned to Rio and extended a hand for her to help herself, but Rio frowned deeply at the sight of the dirtied, bloodied gesture. With a beat of her wings against the ground, she flew up, rolled to level herself, and levitated at eye level with him.

The human and pokemon guards raised their respective weapons, fangs, horns, and claws at her, but an obsidian colored dragon raised a clawed hand to lower them. The one whose name she heard whispered throughout the valleys surrounding Twist Mountain. The one she actually wanted to fight. Zekrom.

"You're going to give your wife so much grief when she finds out you've been wrestling with dragons again," Zekrom laughed.

The Hero shrugged and wiped his hands on his clothes the same way a child would brush their palms after eating something sticky.

"What do you want?" Rio glowered.

"I'm sorry, my friend. May I borrow your cloak? I will get you a new one," The King completely ignored her, speaking to a young guard. He ignored the guard, too, since the question was asked after the cloak was already torn and wrapped around his hands.

"I asked you a question!" Rio shouted, her mouth spewing technicolor flames as she readied a dragons breath. Her outburst included a pulse of psychic energy which blew the dust and sand away, leaving everyone in the vicinity clearly in view.

This time, Zekrom didn't stop the guards from taking up their arms to protect their king and crown. Any sign of playfulness dropped from his face as he tensed his own body. However, the Hero King made a gesture as if he were patting unleavened dough with both hands, telling everyone to stand down and relax.

"I've heard stories about you," The Hero King finally turned to address Rio after calming down his posse:

"I've heard stories about a dragon who felled everyone who dared challenge her. The possessed Demon of Twist Mountain… terrifying my subjects," The King loosened and clenched his fists to get a feel of his makeshift bandages. Satisfied, he lowered his hands and looked her straight in the eyes:

"But I also heard stories about a benevolent dragon who offered shelter in her territory as long as you brought her a gift. It didn't even have to be that grandiose. Even a single oran berry would suffice as an offering, as long as you were genuine. Which of these stories were true?"

The King continued to smile, despite the imminent danger. He raised his hands towards her, as if he were marveling at a grand statue of himself.

"I had to see for myself! No matter what you hear about someone, you never truly know them unless you fight them. And now I understand more than what these stories told me. Now, I want you to work for me."

The Hero King looked behind him for a reaction. The royal guards looked at each other in confusion and worry, but Zekrom rolled his eyes and laughed as if to say, "Of course you would." That was all the validation he needed.

"Perish the thought," Rio spat back.

"Oh? But what if I were to defeat you once more in this bout? What say you?" The King lowered his stance, his arms in front of him in a braced position like some sort of feral beast, "What's the saying? The third time is the charm?"

Rio felt her face get hot. Her pride and image was on the line. She couldn't let this go. She clenched her teeth, dispelling the dragon fire as she readied another physical attack.

"I'll make this deal of yours. If this is what it takes for you to get excited at your own death, so be it," Rio sharply laughed.

"Give me another story I can tell my kids!" The Hero grinned excitedly as he twisted his feet further into the dirt.

"Come!" The Hero King shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice loud enough to rattle a lesser man's bones, "Let's see if the Demon of Twist Mountain has what it takes to kill this king!"

If Rio was less enraged, she would have noticed the pebbles near the King's feet levitating off the ground. She would've seen the hand wraps whip around with more force than what the wind could provide. She would've reconsidered the moment she saw everyone, even Zekrom, take a worried step back.

But Rio was all too happy to oblige. With all of her strength, she darted forward like an arrow released from a bow, aiming to shatter the human's ribs with a Zen Headbutt. The air felt like it caught on fire and exploded from the sheer speed and sudden acceleration...

... And then she tasted dirt, stone, and dust. Again.

Impossible.

|| Ray's First Interaction with the King of Truth | Pinned Post ||

[slashy-hanako]

Dead by Daylight Killers Being Jealous

Reader insert, no use of Y/N, gender neutral.

This is my first time writing on this account, I hope you like it. 

Characters included: Anna (Huntress), Caleb Quinn (Deathslinger), Danny Johnson (Ghostface).

☠Warnings: Blood and gore, strong language, sexual themes.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

♥ Anna - The Huntress ♥ 

Such an athletic and skillful woman would prove to be a great challenge for anyone looking to reach your heart. Behind the mask, there is a face marked by war and famine but still beautiful with its modest charm. Anna is a territorial lover, you are hers and anyone who crosses the line she sets will meet her hatchets. She is violent with her impulses, you would have to stop her from acting upon simple interactions you might have with friends, such as friendly hugs or hand-shakes. Anna does not try to hide her feelings, it will take a good time to educate her about the boundaries of what is appropriate, and even if she loosens her grip on you a little she will still overreact if she sees someone actively flirting with you.

It was a cold evening, you found yourself shaking even near the campfire, your body trembled and your skin arched in response to the chilling wind biting through your defenses, even with a coat the fog seemed to swallow all the heat from the surroundings. You could not bear it any longer and indulged in the request of a survivor to keep you warm, lying by their side so they could wrap their arms around your frame. You knew they liked you, and it felt terribly wrong to allow them to be this close just because you needed it, still you ignored the thoughts and closed your eyes. You felt warm and were finally able to sleep. 

As the hours passed, your slumber was interrupted by the feeling of strong hands holding your waist, it was not like the other survivor who had kept you warm through the night, it was different. You felt the hot breath of the broad figure behind you, so close to your neck, the voice that hummed a lullaby was the familiar one of the Huntress. You were shocked, wondering how she got there, but you remained silent as she embraced you tightly and placed a leg over you, you were being squeezed and it was all the warmth you ever needed.

When she left, after you had proper rest, the camp was empty; she had scared all the other survivors, luckily violence was not allowed outside of trials, but she would sharpen her hatchets to focus on a certain someone who dared to take advantage of your vulnerability.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

♥ Caleb Quinn - The Deathslinger ♥

Caleb was a rough man, unpolished and disheveled all around, he never felt confident about his appearance, or his age, or his personality; he didn’t have much during his life, and his passions had been stolen from him, but not anymore. He is not one to express it loudly, it is difficult to read his deadpan expression, but when his left eye twitches and he clenches his teeth it is because something is bothering him. 

He might pin you against a wall and be direct with his questions about what is happening, Caleb is blunt like a mace and too anxious to allow the possibility of someone taking you from him, and when he gets a name things will be complicated.

It was not unusual for relationships to blossom amidst survivors, the time in the entity’s realm would go so slowly sometimes that having another human to hold was what kept one from snapping. You had seen a certain someone stealing glances at you, during the trials they would constantly follow you around and on occasion even pulled you with them inside a locker, claiming that it was to keep you safe. You had noticed those advances, but your heart belonged to someone else, and this someone had a dead aim. 

It was a trial like any other, if not for the fact that the Slinger was not paying too much attention to you and the other two survivors, instead he would chase only one person, the same one who kept flirting with you every time you were together. You knew exactly what was happening, but you would not dare saying it in front of Caleb, if you accused him of being jealous he would be mad. Instead, you focused on doing the gens while he kept your friend on the ground, watching them crawl around like a slug.

The bounty-hunter would follow the miserable soul, his boots oftenly making contact with their body as he kicked them around and smirked, delighted with the cruelty and suffering. “If I see your hands on them again, I will make sure you can no longer use them.” He would mumble, piercing the back of the survivor with the spear of his marvelous weapon; Death to Shorebay, what a masterful piece of art that gun was, perfect for torture as the Deathslinger kept the harpoon stuck in the survivor’s body to drag them around until they bled out. 

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

♥ Danny Johnson - The Ghostface ♥

As an inquisitive spectator, Danny has watched survivors from far away, he had his moments of voyeurism and shameless photography while invading their privacy, be it inside or outside trials, after all there are no rules against making pin ups with pictures. But you were especially intriguing to him, you knew someone had been following you, leaving mysterious notes for you to read, mostly with strange questions and nonsensical observations; ‘What is your favorite horror movie?’ had been the start, followed by a note written in blood ‘You like a man with a knife?’, it was disturbing and you expected it to be a prank from one of the survivors, maybe someone was just having a good time laughing at how distressed you became. 

But time worked its wonders and soon you dismissed these events as nothing but a hoax from your friends. You could sleep in peace, and it was during one of these moments of careless slumber that you were awakened by the feeling of gloved hands caressing your skin, groping, pinching, someone wanted to call your attention. When you opened your eyes, there was the sight of the Ghostface white mask, his hand covered your mouth so you would not scream, and he showed you his knife, running the tip of it delicately over your chest. Was he crazy? Killers were not allowed to do that outside of trials.

“Now keep your fucking mouth shut, darling.” He warned, caring little about the entity’s rules “I will not hurt you, at least not now.” His voice sent shivers down your spine, he was too close. “I saw you are getting close to that… What is their name…? Uh… I forgot.” He shook his head “I thought we had something, you know. I sent you so many letters and now you betray me, holding hands with that lame bag of flesh.” It made sense now, he was the one stalking you. 

Danny was delusional for sure, he had lived too much inside his own head, with his sick fantasies and distaste for society in general. A man like him lived only to spread violence, chaos, he was an avatar of decay.

“I will give you one last chance, next time we meet, you bring them to me, and I will pretend this never happened.” Then he cleared his throat “If you don’t…” He pressed his left hand on your neck, the mist enveloped him, threatening to take him for punishment for crossing the lines, then his grip loosened “You are mine. Remember that.” He muttered, standing up and tossing a picture at you, before disappearing in the shadows.

The picture was a nice one of you in an intimate moment with someone else, but their head was cut from the picture. 

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥