#something something 'he lashes out; she stands a little too close to him: he flinches like his subconscious anticipates Repercussions'

[osachiyo]

❛ WHAT'CHA READIN'? ❜

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — n/sfw content, teasing, edging, getting caught while reading erotica/smut, full nelson, oral (m recieving), cock warming, kolya's is the longest bc yea, squirting, kind of 4th wall breaking in kolya's etc • here it isss !! i didn't expect so many people to want this but im glad i got to write it. anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread

ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3

𝟎.𝟎𝟎𝟏 — 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈

his hands flew to her neck, squeezing not too hard — but firm enough for her to get dizzy with pleasure. "lily, you're simply ethereal like this," the man on top of her groaned, hips still pounding away, his pelvis slapping against her thighs with each thrust. she moaned, nails raking down the crown prince's back, all while —

"..her pretty cunt squeezed around him at the heartfelt praise,"

you felt someone whisper from behind your shoulder, making you quickly slam your book closed and whip your head towards that direction — only to see your boyfriend, dazai, standing there with a cheshire-like grin on his pretty face.

"i didn't know you were into historical books, babe!" he said with a teasing tilt in his voice, making your right eye twitch. "r-right... ahem — anyway, you really shouldn't sneak up on people like that, osamu," you scowled, clutching said book close to your chest.

"yeah? and you really shouldn't read dirty books at work like this, sweetheart," he tilted your head up to face him, "what if it was kunikida-kun instead of me, hmm?" his voice was playful, and if you knew him, you knew that he was hinting at something — if it's wasn't obvious already by the prominent bulge in his slacks.

"well, aren't you eager?" dazai huffed out a laugh at the way you grinded on his thigh, trying to reach your precious book that was in his hands now. "her back arched like a cat's as the prince pounded away at her — not having an ounce of mercy for the poor maiden," dazai read in a mocking tone — all while flexing his thigh under your cunt, which you were humping for dear life. "please," you pawed at his chest, hips twitching with the need for release.

"please what, baby?" he grinned mischievously, free hand snaking down to land a playful smack on your breasts, before squeezing them. "please let me cum," you whined once more, batting your wet lashes at him in hopes of getting at least a tiny bit of mercy.

"well.." dazai hummed, placing the book to the side, before sitting you fully on his lap and unzipping his slacks — "since you want it so bad, work for it."

𝟎.𝟎𝟎𝟐 — 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀

you and chuuya were in his office, with him working and you on your phone.

chuuya noticed how unusually quiet you got — and how.. strange you were acting as you scrolled further down on your cellphone.

his eyebrows furrowed as he saw your pupils dilate, your breathing getting uneven and you clenching your thighs.... oh.

a smirk found it's way on his handsome face as realization hit him — you dirty, dirty girl.

"what'cha readin' there, babe?" chuuya raised an eyebrow at the way you flinched when he suddenly spoke up. "um.. just some romance story, you won't like it, chuu," you tried to keep a straight face as your boyfriend got up from his seat, and stalked closer to you.

"oh yeah?" chuuya inquired further, "let me see."

"NO!— i mean — you really won't like it, babe," you smiled nervously and clutched the little device closer to you, which only made chuuya's grin spread further. "riiighhtt."

a gasp tore from your lips when your phone was snatched away from you by the ginger man — he was way too fast and strong for you to fight back, so you just sat there — blinking dumbly as he read the contents of your little "romance story."

"really? a mafia boss x reader? heh," chuuya snickered, voice holding a teasing tilt to it, "ya got a thing for boss, or somethin'?"

"NO! oh god, chuuya — give it back!" you finally recovered from your state of stupor, lunging at chuuya — who caught you in his arms with ease. "easy there, sweetheart. now, how about i give you the real fucking thing instead of this stupid... fanfiction, yeah? bend over f'me, doll."

loud clapping could be heard from outside of chuuya's office — it was so embarrassing if anyone walked by, especially akutagawa, but chuuya didn't seem to care one bit.

your tight little pencil skirt was bunched up, panties pulled hastily to the side as chuuya's narrow hips slammed against your ass, gloved hands gripping your hips so hard that you feared it would leave marks. "you like that, baby? like it when i grind into you like this?"

chuuya slowed his thrusts only to grind his hips in circles — making you see stars as you desperately clawed at the mahogany desk.

a sudden knock on the door sent your mind spiraling from pure pleasure to uneasiness. surely he wouldn't —

"come in, akutagawa."

𝟎.𝟎𝟎𝟑 — 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑

"don't flip the page, darling, i'm not done yet,"

you flinched at hearing fyodor's smooth, rich voice from behind you — startling you enough to drop the book from your hands, which conveniently landed on your lap. you looked behind to see your husband, who had a smirk on his handsome, pale face — "f-fedya!" you smiled nervously, "you were.. behind me this entire time?"

"why of course, my dear. i was wondering what type of book my beloved wife is into, and i.. certainly didn't expect this."

fyodor's tone was condescending, derogatory even — making your face heat up in embarrassment and shame. "now now," he tilted your chin up to look him in the eye, "there's no need to be ashamed, darling. though i can't deny that i'm a little upset from you going behind my back to read something so sinful," fyodor clicked his tongue, shaking his head gently before narrowing his amethyst eyes at you, "i believe you need to.. make up for this little... mistake of yours. won't you be a good girl and do as i say?"

you gulped before nodding hesitantly, sweat dampening your palms at the sheer nervousness you were feeling.

"good. on your knees."

fyodor held your head down on his cock, the small tuff of black hair tickling your nose —he didn't give you a chance to catch your breath. the feeling of the tight walls of your throat, along with the pretty view of you looking up at him with those teary eyes almost had him going feral. he wanted nothing more than to just pull your head back and face fuck you — but no, he had you cock warming him with your cute little mouth instead. all while he read his own book.

now, you might want to think twice before reading something so filthy behind his back again — unless you wished for an even worse punishment, that is.

𝟎.𝟎𝟎𝟒 𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈

"dove, can i ask you a little question?"

nikolai wrapped his huge arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest and resting his head on your shoulder, waiting for an answer with a grin.

"what is it, kolya?" you tried to turn to face him, but nikolai's grip only got tighter — his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, "who the fuck is 'toji fushiguro' and why were you reading smut about him?"

nikolai felt you stiffen in his arms — a shiver running down your spine at his warm breath hitting your skin, along with the embarrassing fact that your boyfriend had seen what you read on your phone. fuck.

"hmm? no denying?" he teased, freakishly large hands skimming over your torso, then settling all the way up to your breasts. "he's just a.. fictional character, love," you winced at how fucking embarrassing that sounded — which only resulted in nikolai letting out a snicker.

"really? you wound me, sweet pea — am i not good enough for you, that you have to settle for reading smut about fictional men?" he dramatically put a hand over his chest, but you both knew that was not true. "i'll just prove myself to you then, mm?" nikolai grinned, planting a kiss on your clothed shoulder.

you groaned, "n-no! baby, it's just —" "full nelson, huh?" nikolai cut you off — his expression dark as a borderline scary grin settled on his lips. "that was the position right? you could've just told me you wanted to try it! come on, little dove — i'll show you full nelson."

that's how you ended up with your legs against your chest, nikolai's huge arms hooked under your knees to keep you secured against his chest — all while his thick cock plowed into your cunt.

your mouth dropped into an 'o' shape, drool dribbling down your chin to your tits — the mounds bouncing up and down erotically as you were drilled into from below.

"god, just look at you,"nikolai groaned — his arms flexing beneath you as he bit the juncture of your shoulder, the soft skin littered in bruises and bite marks. his heavy balls were clapping against your ass with each rough thrust — your pussy felt like it was splitting in half from the sheer girth of his dick.

"oh yeah, baby — cum f'me, a-agh — cum on this cock," nikolai's voice was slurred, thick and heavy with lust as he encouraged you to soak his length in your juices.

and soak him you did — spraying your arousal all over the floor, his cock and balls were dripping with it — as you went limp in his arms. but he didn't stop, no — he didn't stop until he was cumming deep in your womb, the creamy substance leaking from your cunt from just how much there was.

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

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[little-bumblebeeee]

Hey ! Can I requestJason Dean x reader (she/her) where the reader is getting a lot of male attention and Jason get jealous, but reader calm him down and assure him that she love him ect...

Hey!! Sorry it took so long, I'm back in school and it's taking up quite a bit of my time, but I do try to put in a little bit each day when I do have time :) I realize you probably meant that JD and reader (most likely you ;P) were already together, but I went the friends to lovers route :>

JD watches as Kurt and Ram stand on either side of you, leaning next to your locker with sly smiles on their faces. He doesn't care what they're saying, he doesn't care what you're saying. He wants them out of his sight and away from you, he wants them gone. You quickly notice his gaze, dipping between Kurt and Ram grateful to get away from those two as you rush over to your best friend

"Hey, I was wondering where you were!" You say as he keeps his gaze off of you, a sour expression on his face as he closes his locker a little too hard, making some freshman next to him flinch like a gunshot just went off before scrambling away. You know something is wrong immediately as he doesn't act like this often. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask him, leaning back against the locker next to him, leaning so your face comes into his vision. JD takes a deep breath through his nose, trying not to lash out at you, as he knows you did nothing wrong. But he can't stop the fire burning within him, up his back and chest and into his brain, making his whole intentions fuzzy with pure anger. He shouldn't be this jealous over his best- and only- friend, you should be able to flirt with people, be flirted with, go on dates with anyone you want without him hating them with a burning passion that rivals even the hottest flames of hell.

"JD, come on. Are you alright?" You ask him. You have no idea what gets him like this, you just hope it's not something you did. He takes a couple deep breaths, scrunching his eyes shut. His chest feels like it's caving in, just breathe, in and out, in and out, in and- fuck it. "No, why would I be? All the time, I have to watch guys flock to you like you're some sort of goddess, I can't stand it!" He says, hitting his locker by accident. Well, you think it's an accident. "What? You're not my boyfriend, you have no right to be jealous of guys that I don't even like." You say, crossing your arms. It pains you to say it, but it was a knee-jerk reaction. One that you wish you could've thought about, because now you kinda seem like a jerk to the boy you like who also just happens to be your best friend. He sighs, rolling his eyes and running his hands through his hair. "But I want to be. That's the whole damn point, I don't want to watch these guys crowd around you all the time, call me selfish but I want it to just be me." He says.

You're stunned, you can feel your face go both cold and hot at the same time, you don't even know what to do. "What?" You finally manage to say. "Yes!" He says in an exasperated tone of voice. The bell rings and he walks away, only for you to follow him. "JD, come on, don't just walk away!" You say, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. When you finally catch up to him, he looks even more annoyed than before, and this time it is kind of at you. "Why the hell are you smiling? This is funny to you?" He spits, and you smile only wider."Im tired of them too, but that's not the point." You say. JD looks kind of pissed, but he's going to listen to what you say, because you're the only person he'd ever trust, and he doesn't want to change that now. "The point is, that I love you, Jason." You tell him. His whole face becomes one of shock and just.. awe. "What." He says, it doesn't even sound like a question.

"I said I love you. And only you. So-" You start, but the bell rings again. The halls are empty and the school security guard starts to do that slow waddle/walk thing towards you both, so you both bolt in separate directions and try to get to class before you're caught without hall passes. You might have gotten to class late, and your teacher is totally pissed, but you could really care less.

[watermelonsugacry]

I know you’re busy but I adore your series and I was wondering if you ever thought of band member yn going through some kind of emergency on stage like someone threw something at her or she has breathing problems whatever you want to do. But like how would the boys react and such. Absolutely no rush on responding just putting it out there. All my love

anon: Anything bad like injuries or threats happen on stage and boys and harry get a little protective? Ily

A couple of moments come to mind:

In 2015, the band was all singing at the end of the catwalk. YN and Harry share the front side as they sing but right as they all go to rotate their side, some fans throw and splash water on the two of them.

Getting water thrown on stage was nothing new for the band, Louis and Liam constantly have water fights at least one time for each show, but this time was different. Harry sees the way YN flinches her head back harshly and takes a couple of steps further up the stage, putting a hand over her eye.

He glances at the crowd with furrowed eyebrows before following her to put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Y'alright, lovie?"

"Yeh," She scrunches her right eye closed, blinking a few times and gently pushes a finger under her lashes to help ease some of the stinging. "Was fookin' beer, that one."

After holding onto her shoulders and crouching down to her eye level to make sure her eyes looked okay, it was time for him to take charge of the situation. YN continues the song as if nothing happened but notices when Harry doesn't come by her side like he's supposed to.

She looks over her shoulder and sees how Harry walks back over to their previous spot, a water bottle uncapped in one hand as he beckons the guy who threw the beer with the other. YN laughs behind her hand as she watches Harry drench the fan—who looks like he's having the time of his life—in water as revenge.

When he walks back over to her, she puts and hand on his back and leans her head to rest on his shoulder as a thank you—an interaction that had fans screaming their heads off.

After the song is over and the boys ask what happened, Harry's the first to speak up.

"He threw beer and it when in YN's eye. She doesn't even drink beer!" He retorts, making everyone laugh. "Please, carry on. I have nothing left to say to you," Harry sasses back as he passes the guy in the crowd.

"I do," YN says before showing the fan her middle finger with a sweet smile. The audience roars in a mix of screams of excitement, disbelief, and laughter as they see her break out from the 'good girl' image she constantly puts out from her management team. The boys cheer her on as they know more than anybody in the room how little she gets to express her feelings the way she wants to.

...

On the Where We Are Tour, the band stands in their usual lineup formation as YN sings the bridge for What Makes You Beautiful.

As she sings, all their attention turns to a fan lifting up their neon pink sign that reads: YN, you can have this 1 D with an arrow pointing down to himself.

YN huffs out a laugh, cocking her head to the side with a quick raise of her eyebrows at the attractive bloke in the front row.

The fans get a kick out of the way all the boys immediately furrow their eyebrows and give the guy dramatic, nasty looks. They all begin to shuffle closer around her until they eventually have her trapped in the middle of their huddle circle. Louis even takes a quick, threatening stomp towards the bloke, his arms bent and flexing down by his sides.

...

And you guys remember when YN took care of Harry when he had the stomach flu? But he told her not to because he was contagious and she was too stubborn to listen?

Well...

YN hops up onto the elevated section at the end of the stage on the Take Me Home Tour. After she belts out her high note for Love You First, she can't help but put her hand to her stomach, makes a small "O" with her lips, and lets out a deep breath. She carries on with a smile, giving a couple of waves and blown kisses to the fans in the seats next to her, and continues to sing along.

But before the song is over, she runs backstage to go empty her stomach. When she gets back, she takes a seat next to the boys who are sitting on the end of the stage she was just on as Niall and Louis talk to the crowd for a bit before the next song.

"I hate to say I told you so," Harry teases as he hands her a water bottle, one which she gladly takes gulps out of.

"Then don't," She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before tossing the plastic bottle on the floor by their mini towels.

"Wha's going on?" Zayn leans over when he sees her place her head in her hands.

"She threw up," Harry explains.

"Why?" Liam pipes in as he goes to stand in front of his bandmates. "You pregnant or somethin'?" He teases with a chuckle.

YN huffs out a laugh at the suggestion and she lifts her head up to see how the boys have grown quiet with concern written all over their faces.

"Wha—no, m'not pregnant. Come on, lads," She scoffs with a laugh. "H passed his stomach bug onto me."

"I dunno," Zayn continues to the playful banter. "You have been spending an awful lot of time with that one bloke."

Harry snaps his head up at the comment.

"Oh yeah, what's his name again?" Liam taps his fingers against his chin in fake contemplation.

"Matt," Zayn says with a snap of his fingers.

"Okay, first of all," YN counters back with a wave of her hand. "M'gonna have a long talk with Perrie about telling yeh things. Second of all, m'not discussing my sex life with you guys."

Not like there was anything to tell for the time being anyways, she thinks to herself.

"And finally, stop talking like that. Yeh about to give poor Harry here a heart attack," She pats Harry on the chest with a giggle, snapping him from his worried expression. "Malik, cover me high notes for C'mon C'mon, yeah? My throat's killing me right now."

And with that, she stands up to walk back to the middle of the stage to join the other two band members.

"We were just teasing, man," Zayn reassures Harry with a pat on the back.

"Yeah, H. We all know your crush on her is still growing strong," Liam adds with a smirk. "YNrry for life or whatever the fans say."

"Shut up," Harry scowls before following YN as the two boys stay chuckling behind him.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

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[kanerallels]

My first Februfluff fic for @monthly-challenge! For the prompt "sharing food" I FINALLY finished a Valiant fic. It's three chapters long over on AO3 (and technically the food sharing doesn't happen until the last chapter, but it's close enough) but they're pretty short, and you can also read the full thing under the cut!

Read on AO3

1.

The police were already there when he pulled into the Reggen family estate’s driveway. Technically, Federal Marshalls weren’t first responders, but Galen had been called anyway. It was his family who lived here, after all— and his CI who was involved in the incident, allegedly.

As he strode towards the front door, flashing his badge to the cop who moved to stop him, Galen could already hear Eldin shouting. “This is unacceptable— I am not allowing some deceptive criminal to stay in my house and endanger our family!”

There was a response in a lower voice— Lissa, Galen guessed— and Eldin let out a laugh that bordered on hysterical. “Not her fault? Oh, no, how could it be? She only CHALLENGED AN ENTIRE GANG!”

Galen located the source of the noise— the study, which he still thought of as Torren’s even after he’d been gone for a few years now— and pushed the door open. Eldin was standing behind the desk, face flushed red with frustration, and Lissa stood before him, her face set impassively. They both looked up at his arrival.

“About time,” Eldin snapped, glaring at him. “Our home is under assault, and it’s your little criminal’s fault, Verras.”

It took a bit of a struggle to keep his face impassive, avoiding the grimace he felt. Eldin was far from his most reasonable at the moment, and this situation was going to be hard to deal with. “I heard there was an incident,” Galen said, his voice steady.

“Someone drove by and threw a brick through the window,” Lissa said. Her voice was far less hysterical than Eldin’s, but still a little unsteady as she continued, “The brick has the Duke’s symbol on it.”

“Which means it’s a message,” Eldin said, folding his arms and scowling. “And that message says that we’re being endangered by that Gramton girl and her brat.”

Don’t lash out. Stay calm, you know it won’t help. “Saville is in danger, too,” Galen said, keeping his voice low and reasonable. “You can’t just throw her out into the street, there’s too much at stake here. She’s our best weapon against them—”

“She’s a liability, and I want her GONE!”

“Eldin—”

Jabbing a finger at him, Eldin said, “Don’t you DARE try and convince us, Marshal Verras. She’s leaving TONIGHT and that’s final.”

“If you throw her out, someone could come after her—”

“I don’t care, so long as it doesn’t happen in our house! We are the victims here, you realize!”

Galen loved his cousin, he truly did. But there were times when he almost wanted to take him by the shoulders and shout at him. Didn’t he see that Saville was in danger of far more than bricks through the window?

But she had yet to flinch, even after facing down gang leaders and his cousins and the AUSA, Leymonn. She’d been terrified, Galen could see that much. But despite all of it, she’d stood strong and fierce, protecting Will and herself.

He admired it. Maybe more so than he should have.

“Well?” Eldin’s sharp tone cut through Galen’s thoughts. “Are you going to do something about her? Or should I call Leymonn, see what he thinks we should do with her?”

No. If Leymonn got involved, Saville would wind up on the streets, or worse. Galen glanced at Lissa, hoping to find an ally there. But her gaze was lowered. Which means it’s up to me.

Taking a deep breath, he said, “I’ll handle it. Where is she?”

2.

I could hear the shouting from all the way upstairs, in the small room I’d been given when Marshal Verras brought Will and I to the Reggen’s home. Pressing my lips together, I tried hard not to scowl, to push down the fury I felt twisting in my chest.

It wasn’t as if I’d ever been a particularly welcome guest here. Eldin had treated me with uneasy dislike, and his attorney friend Leymonn with open disdain. Lissa had, after a little while, become more civil with me, but we were far from becoming best friends. The brick through the window had been the last straw, and Eldin had demanded Will and I leave before the police had even arrived.

So here I was. Shoving clothes into the ancient suitcase I’d carried with me when we had left. Trying not to think about everything at once— where we would go, what would happen next, how soon the Duke’s men would catch up with us.

“Sir?”

My eyes moved up to where Will was sitting on the bed. He’d been given his own room, but snuck into my room to curl up with a few blankets on the rug next to it almost every night. He’d been sleeping there when we’d both been jolted awake by screeching tires, shattering glass, and the sound of Eldin shouting.

He’d stayed upstairs while I went down to deal with the situation, but I knew he’d had to hear the yelling. And with me packing, he knew what was going on.

“Where are we going to go?” he whispered.

It was a good question. A question I wished I could answer properly, or at the very least, protect him from. But Will was far too smart for me to lie to. “We can’t go back to the shop,” I told him. “It’s being watched, by the Duke’s men and by the marshals. I have a little money, so we might be able to afford a hotel room.”

I hoped, at least. If there wasn’t enough, we might find ourselves sleeping on a park bench, and I had a very hard time believing the Duke would let us last the night somewhere so vulnerable. If only I could keep him safe. If only I could keep both of us safe. If only I didn’t have to. Sky above, it was getting hard to stand up to everything coming my way. 

There was a small part of me, a part that I could never entertain for long, that wished someone else could be strong for me. That someone would come along and protect us. But I knew better. I would have to protect both myself and Will, whatever it took.

“Go get your things,” I told him quietly. 

Will got to his feet, looking a little less nervous than he had before. But I knew him well enough to see that he was still scared. And, if I was being honest, I was too.

Enough of that, I told myself. Now’s not the time for honesty, if it makes things worse. Now is the time to grit your teeth and get it done, because no one is going to do it for you.

As Will slipped out of my room, I caught the sound of a familiar baritone downstairs, cutting through Eldin’s yelling. It was too low for me to make out the words, but I knew who it was. Marshal Verras had arrived on the scene. Which meant he was probably going to try and convince Will and I to stay, and I’d have none of that.

We may have been protected from the Duke and his men here, but we weren’t safe. Not really, with Leymonn skulking in and out all week, making sly comments about Will and trying to leverage me into agreeing to things.

Eldin and Lissa may have been hard to deal with, but Leymonn was far worse. He didn’t scare me— his power did, and what he might do with it.

So I was leaving, and so was Will, and that was that. Gathering myself, I collected the last of my things in the room— a jacket hanging over the end of the bedstead. The puzzle box that Marshal Verras had given Will to play with. The shirt of Will’s I’d been mending, which I tucked into her suitcase— and headed for the door.

Will was waiting for me outside my door, his backpack over one shoulder. Together, we headed for the door for the stairs that led down to the main level. I clutched her suitcase in one hand, slipping my jacket around my shoulders.

I pulled open the door, and came face to face with Marshal Verras. 

He looked only mildly surprised to see Will and I. His gaze moved from me to the suitcase in my hand to Will, then back to me.

Lifting my chin, I said, “We’re not staying here.”

To my surprise, he nodded. “No, you’re not. You and Will are coming with me.”

I only hesitated a minute before following him, down the stairs and into the main hall. There were a handful of police there, some of them interviewing Eldin and Lissa. Several of them looked up as the three of us entered.

“My car is out front,” Marshal Verras told me quietly, passing me the keys. “Go wait for me there, alright?” A smile twitched across his face, and he added, “Try not to take off without me.”

I found myself almost smiling in response, remembering the day I’d tried to escape the Reggen’s house by breaking into his car. I’d almost made it, but he’d been there, and convinced me to stay, that it would be safer for Will and I. I’d been frustrated at the time, but had known, as I did now, that he was looking out for us. “I won’t,” I said.

Will and I slipped out the door just as Eldin started demanding to know what was going on. I could hear arguing erupt as we headed to Marshal Verras’s car, but I didn’t look back. Instead, I unlocked it, slipped into the backseat with Will, and waited.

He came out of the house roughly ten minutes later, looking tired, with a slightly grim set to his mouth. But when he opened his door and dropped into the driver’s seat, he glanced back at the two of us and quietly said, “I’ll bring you somewhere safe for the night. We can talk about everything else tomorrow.”

“Alright,” I said. There were a thousand different questions bouncing around her head. But I was so tired, and so was Will— he was already nodding off against my shoulder. So I kept my questions inside for now, and passed Marshal Verras his car keys.

The car drive passed in a blur of back roads and headlights. I found myself nearly nodding off on a few occasions, and by the time we pulled up to a large house, I could scarcely keep my eyes open.

Rubbing at them viciously, I turned to Will, only to find him fast asleep. Wincing, I moved to wake him up, but Marshal Verras held up a hand, stopping me.

“I’ve got him,” he whispered, passing me his keys again. “You get the door.”

Dimly, I knew there was something that a far less tired version of me should be connecting about all this, but at the moment, all I cared about was finding a bed. The Duke himself could show up and I would ignore him in favor of curling up under some blankets.

So I took the keys and made my way to the front door. Marshal Verras followed after unbuckling Will, then picking him up, carefully resting his head against his shoulder.

He was so gentle with him, so cautiously unlike his usual stern, grave exterior. It caught at me, making my heart stutter, just a little. Hastily, I turned my gaze to the door.

It took me a few minutes to find the right key, but when I finally did the door swung open to a dark house. Marshal Verras took the lead, heading for a nearby flight of stairs, and I followed him to a set of doors.

Fumbling for a moment, he managed to push the door open, revealing a bedroom. Two beds took up most of the space, with a table between them and a dresser on the far side near the window. After carefully lowering Will onto one of the beds, Marshal Verras turned to me. “I assumed you would want to share, so that Will didn’t get confused,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“Yes— thank you,” I said, wishing I could put my gratitude in my voice properly. We were safe and together and far away from both the Duke and the Reggen’s. Nothing I could say would really cover all that I felt. 

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Get some rest, Saville. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

The door shut behind him with a quiet click, and I found myself alone, swaying on my feet. Pausing only to pull a blanket over Will, I moved to the other bed and collapsed, my eyes flickering shut almost immediately.

My sleep was deep and peaceful, without any real dreams. I wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed before I jolted awake, disoriented. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. And the events of the night before began to piece themselves together in my head.

Sitting up, I held back a yawn as I took a better look at the room. The sunlight streaming in through the window and lighting up the pale blue walls told me that it was late, but not too late. Will was still curled up under his blanket, breathing steadily.

Seeing him peaceful and calm eased a tension I hadn’t even fully realized I was carrying around. I wished, not for the first time, that I hadn’t dragged him into all of this. That Will could be safe.

He’s safe here, now, I reminded myself. He’s away from Leymonn, and the longer that lasts, the better.

Although that did bring up the question of where here was. Even as I thought it, however, I was fairly certain I knew. We were at Marshal Verras’s house. It was the only place he could have conceivably brought us under such short notice.

It shouldn’t have been strange— but it was, a little. More than just strange, though, it meant he’d found yet another way to help me, to protect both of us. I owed this man more than I’d ever be able to pay back.

There has to be something I can do for him, though. To thank him, even in a small way. I thought for a minute, then got up from my bed.

Stopping next to Will’s bed, I knelt down beside him, brushing his hair back from his eyes gently. His eyes flickered open, and he whispered sleepily, “Sir? Are we safe?”

“We are,” I told him, my heart aching a little. “I’m going to go downstairs to make some breakfast. I won’t be far, okay?”

“‘Kay,” Will mumbled, his eyes already drifting shut again. I watched him for another moment, then rose to head downstairs.

It became apparent the minute I left my room that this wasn’t exactly a small house. It was far from the mansion-like quality of the Reggen’s house— which made sense. Their family had founded this town, after all— but it was far larger than me and my family had ever owned.

It was certainly fancy, but understated enough that I didn’t feel overwhelmed. It felt more natural and lived in than Eldin and Lissa’s— stacks of books on side tables, newspapers and files here and there, along with a few empty cups.

It took me a few minutes to locate the kitchen. It was large, but painted in warm shades of yellow and orange that didn’t seem to match Marshal Verras at all. As I rummaged through a few cupboards, I wondered if someone else lived here, or if it was just him. He hadn’t mentioned much about his family, other than the fact that Eldin and Lissa were his cousins, and I hadn’t noticed a ring. Did he have a girlfriend?

Was it strange that I hoped he didn’t?

I pushed away the thought firmly, and returned to searching for the ingredients I needed. I was a decent cook, when I needed to be, and one of the recipes I knew I’d mastered was pancakes. The very least I could do, at this point, was make breakfast for Marshal Verras.

It was such a little thing, and he’d done so much more to protect Will and I. He’d wrangled Eldin and Lissa, convincing them to let us stay because we would be safe there. He’d figured out the paperwork to keep them from taking Will back into the system, he’d faced off with Leymonn more times than I could count. This was very literally the least I could do.

I did her best to be quiet as I assembled my ingredients and pulled out a frying pan, knowing that Will— and probably our host— was still sleeping. But something, be it the clattering of the bowls or pans, or the sound of me moving around, must have disturbed him, because he appeared just as I was pouring the batter onto the pan, carrying his handgun. He lowered it the minute he saw me.

“Saville?” he blinked at me, looking disoriented. This was the first time I’d seen him not totally put together, I realized. His tie and jacket were gone, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair was sticking every which way. It was almost endearing, and I had to hold back a smile.

His gaze traveled from me, to the frying pan and the bowl of batter next to it, and back to me. “What are you doing?”

“Making us breakfast, of course,” I said.

3.

Galen didn’t think of himself as a man who was often caught off guard. But when he woke up and found Saville Gramton making pancakes in his kitchen, that surprised him.

“Breakfast?” he said slowly, eyebrows traveling upwards.

Saville nodded. “Yes. Breakfast. I assume you’re familiar with the concept.”

Letting out a snort of amusement, Galen slid his weapon back into the holster strapped to his chest, switching the safety back on as he did so. “I am,” he said, “but that doesn’t explain— how did you find everything?”

“I looked,” Saville told him, pouring out another measuring cup full of pancake batter. It hit the pan with a satisfying sizzle, the smell of cooking pancakes rising through the air. “Your kitchen is a lot better organized than your office.”

“I don’t use it as much,” Galen said. “Why don’t you let me take care of that?”

“I’ve got it,” she said, directing a frown at him as he started to open his mouth to tell her that he didn’t mind, that she should get some rest, that the idea of cooking for her was actually very appealing. (Well. He probably wasn’t going to add the last part, true though it was.) “If you want, you can make some coffee.”

Coffee sounded like an excellent idea, and Galen moved over to the coffee pot to get started. As he filled the filter with coffee grounds, he glanced at her again. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“It was the least I could do,” she said, flipping one of the pancakes. “And someone had to do it.”

“I would have.”

“I know. But…” she paused before glancing up at him with one of her direct, honest looks. “You’ve done so much. For Will and I. This is one small thing I can do to repay you.”

“Oh.” Galen felt himself flush a little, which shouldn’t be surprising. She’d turned out to have that effect on him, with her unabashed stubbornness and honesty— and he was pretty sure she enjoyed it. “Thank you. It’s not necessary, but thank you. I’m just doing my job.”

“In that case, I take it back.” A half-smirk crossed her face briefly, and she added, “In fact, I’m sorry. I’ll throw your serving out now, then.”

“I accept your apology,” Galen said, and she looked up at him, so startled that he couldn’t hold back his smile anymore. And for just a moment, her smile matched his.

But then she glanced back down hastily, and the moment was gone. “I need some plates.”

“Right,” Galen said, a thread of remorse pulling at his heart, though he couldn’t say why. Just that it had been nice to have a moment, just the two of them laughing at an inside joke. That it was nice to be able to smile and see her smile, in the face of such things as they were dealing with.

Turning, he opened one of the nearby cupboards and started pulling out plates. He’d barely gotten them to the counter when there was a clatter and a cry of pain.

“Saville!” Galen spun around, concern flashing through his chest at the sight of Saville wincing, her hand cradled against her chest. The spatula she’d been using lay on the stovetop.

Crossing the room, he said, “Are you alright? Let me see.”

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice tight as she waved him off. “My hand slipped— it’s just a burn.”

“At least let me take care of these while you run it under cold water,” Galen told her. She gave a quick nod, crossing the room to the sink.

As she turned on the tap, Galen picked up the spatula and turned his attention to the pancakes. Flipping one, he slid the other two onto the plate he’d set nearby, and grabbed the cup, using it to pour more batter onto the pan.

He kept his gaze focused on his task, but he could hear Saville moving near the sink, and a few seconds later the tap shut off. Her voice came a second later. “I can take over now, Marshal Verras.”

“I’ve got it handled,” Galen told her firmly. He could sense her hovering nearby for a heartbeat, and glanced her way. “I do. Sit down— how’s your hand?”

“It doesn’t really hurt anymore,” she said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “And I don’t mind taking over.”

“I know,” Galen said, deftly flipping another pancake onto a plate. “But I don’t mind either. And I think you should call me Galen. It doesn’t seem right to go around Marshal-ing someone you’re making pancakes with.”

It took a heartbeat before she met his gaze, but she lifted an eyebrow nonetheless. “Marshal-ing?”

“It’s an official term, I’m sure,” he said, smiling. Hoping she’d listen to him. It made sense— they’d known each other long enough, worked together on this case long enough.

And truth be told, he wanted to hear her say his name. Few enough people used his first name, and he knew there would be something special about her saying it, just by the virtue of it being Saville.

“Here,” he said, sliding her a plate with two of the pancakes stacked on it. “Eat.”

Accepting the plate and the fork he handed her a few seconds afterwards, Saville offered him a smile. “Thank you, Marshal Ver— Galen. Thank you, Galen.”

“You’re welcome, Saville.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, Galen stacking pancakes on one of the bigger plates he’d taken down. Saville got up a few minutes later and poured both of them a cup of coffee, adding a single dash of milk to his cup— exactly the way he liked it. He hadn’t known she’d noticed, but he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Galen was just adding the final pancake to the now somewhat precarious stack when Will appeared in the kitchen doorway. Yawning and rubbing at his eyes, he surveyed the scene before him. “Is there breakfast?” he asked.

“Right here,” Galen said, offering him a plate with a few pancakes on it. The boy accepted it immediately and took the seat next to Saville. 

As he drowned the pancakes in syrup, Saville handed him the fork Galen passed her. “Did you sleep well?” she asked, smoothing down where his hair was sticking up in the back.

“Yeah— thanks for the pancakes, Mr. Verras,” Will said, cutting them into pieces.

“You’re welcome, Will,” Galen said, switching off the stove. Taking another sip of his coffee, he grabbed another plate, and claimed a seat next to Saville.

As she passed him the maple syrup, Will said, “This is a fancy house— whose is it?”

“Mine,” Galen said, covering his pancakes with syrup. “Or, my family’s, really. I grew up here, but when my father retired, he and my mother moved south and left the house to my siblings and I. My brothers had already moved on, so I was the only one who could get much use out of it.”

“It seems a big house to live in all alone,” Saville said, her gaze moving from him to the rest of the kitchen, taking it in in a thoughtful look. He wondered what she saw. So often, she seemed to see things he didn’t, stitch together tiny details that he almost wouldn’t have noticed.

That was why he’d told Leymonn he saw better when he was with her. And it was the truth.

“It is,” he admitted wryly, cutting into his breakfast. The pancakes were just as good as he’d expected, and he took a minute to savor the bite he’d taken before he spoke again. “I feel a little foolish sometimes, living here. But I don’t have to pay any rent, and it’s… it’s home, in a way. I don’t know that I could bring myself to leave. Not until I’m ready, at any rate.”

He saw something like understanding in Saville’s eyes, but before she or Will could speak, the sound of a phone ringing split the air. His phone, Galen realized.

“Excuse me,” he said, rising to his feet and heading out of the kitchen.

He’d left his jacket draped over the back of his chair, and his phone in the pocket. Fishing it out, Galen flipped it open and answered it. “Verras.”

“Good, you’re awake.” Galen recognized the voice on the other end immediately— Anders, another marshal in his department. They weren’t close, but they shared a mutual dislike for Leymonn. “Your cousin showed up and told Leymonn what happened last night, and they’re in rare form. Leymonn’s trying to get in contact with a judge. I don’t know what he’s got up his sleeve, but—”

“But it’s a bad sign,” Galen finished, grimacing. “Thank you, Anders. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Snapping the phone shut, he headed back into the kitchen. Saville and Will looked up at his entrance, and he could see the wariness in Saville’s eyes. “Is something—”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he told her. “But… Leymonn found out about what happened last night. So I need to get into work now, head off anything that he’s planning.”

“Do you need us to come with you?” she asked, already getting to her feet. But Galen shook his head.

“Stay here for now— I’ll be back or call in a few hours. Feel free to make yourself at home— there’s a library a few doors down from my office, and keys to any of the other doors in the house in my desk drawer.” Catching Saville’s gaze, he added, “But please, stay here.”

Saville nodded. “Okay. But call us soon.”

“I will.”

It didn’t take long for Galen to get ready. Throwing on his jacket, he grabbed his car keys and was heading out the door when he stopped. Just for a moment, lingering outside of the kitchen door.

Saville and Will were still sitting there— Will eating and talking, Saville quietly sliding him a napkin as she listened. Her gaze moved to where Galen stood for a minute, and she sent him a smile.

Somehow, that smile sent a little flash of energy through him. He knew the rest of the day was going to be long and tiring, and that battling Leymonn would take up half of it. But that smile helped, more than it should have.

For a minute, he wished he could stay with them. But that was dangerously close to wishing for something that he wasn’t at liberty to want. Not now, not with a woman who was part of a case he was in charge of.

Focus up, Verras, he told himself. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.

He gave himself one last backward glance, then left the house.

[triplesilverstar]

A talk about parents

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Death, talk of death, parental death, angst

Word count: 1.7K roughly

A/N: Chapter three of Cold Night, Warm Hearts. In a moment of vague curiosity, you ask Vash a question you immediately regret. Both of you sharing things about yourselves you shoved away once upon a time.

A little more history and interactions as Vash and Snipes bond a little more. I also wrote this one a while ago and had no idea where it would fit in, so hopefully with the edits it makes sense here since I'm trying to keep the one shots more in line in the time line now.

It strikes you one day while you’re both out walking in the desert, and instead of thinking you just ask. “Vash?” A light hum lets you know he has your attention. “Do you remember your mother?” As he freezes you feel your stomach drop, some days you are really an idiot biting the inside of your cheek at your bluntness.  

“Why do you ask?” His voice is somber, starting to walk again and passing beside you, but you can tell he’s looking closer to the sand instead of the sky out in the distance towards the horizon like he normally would.

“Just curious, I guess.” Something in your tone grabs his attention, the hand not holding his bag reaching out for your own, wrapping your smaller one in his much larger one. Those long digits easily encompass the fine bone structure, making your hand look dainty when compared to his even with you both wearing gloves. 

“Once we were old enough, Rem brought us to meet her. I remember her unfurling and floating closer to the think glass to see us, humming while she watched us through the sides of her tank, but” his voice cracks, you step ahead and around so you're facing him, free hand going up to cup his jaw. 

“You don’t have to finish.” You’re wiping the wetness from his lashes, trying to soothe the anguish blooming across his face, your heart sinking in your chest. “I should have thought more before I said anything.” He shakes his head, dropping his bag, so the metal fingers of his prosthetic wrap delicately around your wrist to keep your hand in place, tilting his head so he can press a kiss to your palm. Even if you don’t feel it through the leather of your glove, the action is what matters, trying to console you even if he’s the one who’s hurting deep down.

“It’s alright. I think we were too young to really understand her. I didn’t really understand how to listen when the others talked to me until later.” His admission still leaves your heart churning, stepping closer to him so your chests are pressed against one another. Able to disentangle both hands from his hold to palm his cheeks, both of his resting on your hips. Out here in the middle of the desert, you don’t need to be concerned about onlookers, judging your interactions. It’s still something both of you are getting used to, being together and acting on it instead of shoving your feelings down. Being free to touch one another and only having to worry about onlookers, but you don’t have that problem right now.

“It doesn’t feel alright. I hate to dig more since I've already upset you. Did she?” You won’t say it, but from the flinch on his face and the sharp inhale through his teeth, you know he understands what you’re asking him. As painful as this is, you genuinely want to know, hopeful it’s a positive answer even if you know how unlikely that is from what Vash has told you about the big fall. 

“Yea. She did.” Dropping his forehead so it’s pressed against your own, eyes closed as he just breathes, and you do the same. It was the answer you were expecting, but you wish it had been a different one, another person Vash has lost. Moments pass as you stand there, just being, taking solace in one another while the breeze softly blows, sand swirling around you before he speaks again. “It’s alright to be curious about it, Mayfly.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel like an ass.” That gets a sad little chuckle out of him, releasing your hips and pulling away to grab his bag before he takes your hand in his once more, lacing your fingers together and tugging you along with him. As you both walk in silence a thought crosses your mind, at some point you’ve stopped noticing the difference in how both of his hands feel. When you stopped noticing the cold feeling that seeped into your skin, you’ll never know. So used to the sensation now of your fingers encased in his even if it hasn’t been that long since the events in the ship, another reminder you’ve shoved what should have been obvious to you down for a while. 

“Tell me about your parents. You don’t talk about them much.” You know he isn’t trying to make you feel worse, it’s an honest question, prompted because he wants to know more about you. The same way your question was a result of you wanting the same, to know more than the surface level about each other.  

“Well” you pause, unsure of where to even start. “My mother worked at the terra forming plant. Not like plants here.” Putting a break in, making sure you and Vash are on the same page. This time it’s your turn to stare at the sand in front of your feet. “Like a building that contains all the tech to affect the atmosphere. My father was a farmer, he worked in the greenhouses growing vegetables.”

Vash chuckles, gently knocking his shoulder into yours “I mean tell me about them Mayfly, not what they did.” That soft sad smile is back on his face, his fingers giving yours a soft squeeze and his voice holds a note of cheer knowing it’s hard subject to talk about.

"I don't know what to say" feeling wistful as you give him an honest answer unsure how to answer. It’s been so long since you thought about them and time has made your memory fuzzy. 

"You've heard me talk about Rem, think about stuff like that. How she'd tuck me and Nai in after we'd fall asleep in the atrium watching the stars. Hum songs when she thought we weren't listening." Talking about Rem usually puts a spring in his steps, the woman who shaped so many of his ideals. It's easy for you to tell he truly loved her like a mother. 

Licking your lips you try to rack your brain for memories, so many of them long gone, lost to time. "My dad. He was a big goofball, and usually had terrible jokes." 

"That's where your sense of humor comes from. No wonder you make such bad puns." Vash is quick to quip at you, giving your fingers a quick squeeze with his teasing. You chuckle at that, reminded of how bad both of your puns can be. 

“Gee look who’s talking” you tease right back and give his hand a squeeze in return. “He would always tell me it was ok to just be me.” Looking down at the sand again as you think of your father. “I wasn’t the smartest which I think you know already, and Dad would always say I just needed to be me. Well, he’d always ruffle my hair too, which was annoying.” 

You should have known better than to admit that, Vash dropping his bag again to swing you towards him and doing just that, except when he’s finished he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “Like that?”

Snorting as you look into his eyes “minus the kiss? Yea. Just like that you dork.” Dropping your head so your forehead was pressed against the center of his sun warmed chest. You still don’t understand how he can wear a black turtle neck under his jacket with the heat of this planet. Raising your free hand to rest it against him, feeling his beating heart beneath your palm and taking a few deep breaths. “I miss him. Even if I can’t even remember what he looked like now.”

“He sounds like he was a great dad, Mayfly.” Vash reaches to rub his flesh hand along your back, pushing your jacket out of the way even if it is awkward with your bag pressing against it. 

“He was.” A few more deep breaths and you use your palm to wipe the slowly building wetness from your eyes. “Why is this so hard.” Muttering more to yourself as a comment and you don’t expect Vash to answer. 

“Because you miss them, just like I miss mine.” A real kiss this time, even if it is just a quick press of dry chapped lips together before you separate again. “Now” grabbing his bag for the second time in a short span of time, and once more getting you to talk alongside him. “What about your mom?” 

You let out a small laugh. “Mom was a no nonsense ball breaker when she needed to be, she was definitely the more serious of the two when it came to my parents.” That you could remember, while your mother was calm, any excuse you tried to give her for missed chores always fell on disbelieving ears with a snarl following after you. “But, when I used to stay up late or had nightmares she would sing to me.” 

“Wait. Does that mean you can sing?” Vash is almost like a happy big dog at that question.

“Only if you want your ears to bleed Sunshine.” You deadpan, a musical mother but you know you’re tone deaf. It’s well established. “Wait. Can you sing?” Turning on him and watching a light pink hue cross his features. You know he hums a lot when the two of you are out walking, some of them songs and at nights when he wakes up from his own nightmares he sometimes hums. That particular one is something Vash says he doesn’t remember Rem teaching him or singing herself, but it always calms him down.

Raising a hand to rub at the back of his head and an awkward laugh “I’ve been told I can, but I don’t really like to draw attention to myself for that one.” Doing everything in his power to avoid looking at you. 

“You have to sing for me at some point, Sunshine.” Doing your best puppy dog expression to see if he’ll give in the same way you know you would have when he fixes you with a similar gaze. 

A grimace on his face, but Vash gives in, singing low and just loud enough for you to hear, and you listen as you walk alongside one another across the dunes. You try to tell him more of what you can remember of your long dead parents. Another shared tragedy between the two of you.

Back to the series

[tallytals]

Whispers

summary: Macaque has made many mistakes in his lifetime. Sooner or later, each of them come back to haunt him.

word count: 1k

read on ao3

One mid-air fight with a band of rogue demons later, and Macaque finds himself running through the forest. Blood soaks the scarf he tied around his leg, air burns down his lungs. He swiftly turns on his heel and bolts in the opposite direction of an all too familiar voice.

Each step is sharp and agonizing, but he forces himself to keep going. To keep running. Because maybe the farther away he gets from her, the better off he’ll be.

The girl’s laugh rings in his ears, blue wisps cloud the edges of his vision. There’s a piercing pang in his head and tight, restricting pressure on his neck. Macaque feels like he’s being watched. Like he’s back in that stone-cold cell with his back pressed against the wall, indulging a scared little girl with idle conversation.

Heavens, he can still hear her every sob, every watery laugh, every desperate, pleading whisper, telling him to promise, promise that you’ll take me with you—

A tree root catches him by the foot, and Macaque falls flat on his face. Blood bursts from his lip. Blue flickers all around him, an icy chill runs down his spine. Macaque curls in on himself, waiting for it to stop. Waiting for the others to find him already. Where are they? The sky is dark and the moon slowly rises to replace the sun, and he hasn’t found them yet. He should have found them by now—

“Why would they want to find a liar like you?” The girl asks from behind a stone wall. Anger drips from the seemingly innocent question.

Macaque screams at her, swiping a ring of violet magic through the air. Trees bend and fall in the face of his anger, but the girl doesn’t even flinch.

“Well, I guess there’s one thing that we still have in common, Six Ear.” Her laugh is shaky and filled with tears. “Neither of us will be missed!”

Bai He’s watery laugh edges dangerously towards hysterics. Then suddenly she’s sobbing and screaming, her voice grows raw, and yet she still shrieks. Macaque covers his ears as if that would block out the voice in his head.

Because it had to be in his head, it had to be. That’s all the Lady Bone Demon could do. That’s all she was. Just a bunch of old bones and whispers and blue, blue, blue—

“You promised! ” Bai He shouts, pounding at the stone wall separating them. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me alone! You’re a liar, Six Ear! I hate you! ”

Macaque digs his claws into his ears, trying desperately to block out the girl's enraged voice. Vines crawl up his arms and legs and wrap tightly around him, and Macaque lets it happen, too focused on Bai He’s continued shout of “I hate you!”

The Lady Bone Demon laughs, and Bai He’s sobs turn into pained, terrified screams.

“You drive everyone away eventually, Macaque.” She whispers, placing a cold hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Soon everyone will realize that you shatter every promise, that you corrupt the brightest souls. Those who do remember your pitiful existence will call you a fake, a shadow, a mistake. You are nothing. And you will die that way, M—“

“Macaque?”

Opening his eyes--when had he closed them?--Macaque just barely stops himself from lashing out with shadow magic when he catches sight of MK, crouching in front of him.

“Are you okay?” MK asks. "We've been looking everywhere for you." The kid's face softens into something akin to understanding as Macaque looks around, taking in the bright, vine-less forest. Red Son stands off to the side, watching the exchange with cautious concern.

The voices are silent, but the blue still clings to the edges of his vision. Macaque blinks, tears falling unbidden from his eyes.

Surprise flickers across MK’s face before he schools his expression and slowly places his hand on Macaque’s shoulder. He pulls away quickly at the demon monkeys flinch. “...whatever you saw, whatever the forest did, It wasn't real.” He tells him firmly. “Trust me, I know.”

Trust me.

You corrupt the brightest souls.

I hate you!

Furiously wiping away his tears, Macaque silently moves to stand, Mk sighs and slots himself next to him, taking a bit of weight off of Macaques injured leg.

The moon rests high in the sky by the time they regroup with the others. Pigsy grumbles about infection as he goes to grab the first aid kit, and Wukong practically tackles his successor. Red Son, who neatly side-stepped the tackle-hug, laughs until he’s pulled in by Wukong’s tail.

Macaque gingerly lowers himself to the floor, his wounded leg stretched out in front of him. He leans his head back against the ship's railing and focuses on the others voices instead of the ones trapped in his head.

He tenses up when he hears Pigsy approaching with a first aid kit in tow.

“No,” Macaque says, tiredly. He shifts away from Pigsy, his fur bristled.

“Ah-ah, don’t give me the immortal shtick." Pigsy huffs, mistaking Macaque’s uneasiness for his usual stubbornness. The pig demon crouches down in front of Macaque, setting out the supplies, he reaches for his injured leg. “You should at least clean it--”

“I said no!” Macaque snaps, pulling his leg close to his chest. He immediately hisses in pain as the wound flares up.

The idle chatter around him stops at his outburst, everyone turning to stare at him. Pigsy’s eyes widen in shock, nevertheless, he pushes himself up and walks away, grumbling under his breath. He leaves the first aid kit behind.

You drive everyone away eventually, Macaque.

“...Why don’t you guys start dinner? I’ll be down in a moment.” Wukong suggests, pushing Mk and his friends below deck. The kid lingers for a moment before disappearing down the steps.

And then Wukong is sitting down right next to him. Reaching for the first aid kit, he sets to work untying Macaque’s scarf from around his leg and cleaning up the wound. He frowns as he opens a bottle of antiseptic, the smell making his eyes water. Macaque barely winces as he applies it, his tail swishing back and forth in quiet agitation.

“Alright, what’s wrong with you,” Wukong asks, setting down the bottle. “You’ve been...weird since you got back. You’re not hurt anywhere else, right?”

Those who do remember your pitiful existence will call you a fake, a shadow, a mistake.

Old anger swells up in Macaque, he shakes his head, turning away from Wukong. The Monkey King stares at him like he’s a complicated puzzle in need of solving, it only further irritates Macaque.

“No, I’m fine.” He growls. Wukong levels him with an unimpressed side-eye, but there’s a genuine concern hidden in his expression as he continues to wrap his wound, and that scares Macaque more than he’s willing to admit.

“...Promise?”

Promise that you’ll take me with you.

Blue clouds his vision, a little girls voice fills his head, a demons icy touch lingers around his neck. Macaque squeezes his eyes shut and ignores the part of him that wants to tell Wukong everything. This is his problem, his choice, his mistake. The others already have enough to deal with as it is.

You’re a liar, Six Ear!

Macaque puts on a smile. “I promise.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forbidden Lessons XXXII (Path B)

Masterlist

Make sure to follow which path you’re reading and I hope it’s not too confusing. Each path (a and b) are separate storylines.

Warnings: noncon, age gap, abuse of power, coercion, mentions of suicide, depression, pregnancy and abortion, violence. Y'all know I do it dark and spicy. You have warnings, use them.

Thots, comments, screaming, and feedback are welcome and highly encouraged. Thank you!

You walk through campus with a sense of sullenness. You recall the first day you got to college, how hopeful you were. Your aspirations weren't high or extravagant, you were only happy for the possibilities. You could be your own person. Away from your mother and your childhood bullies.

That day, you walk over your crushed dreams strewn in the wet grass. It's been so long, no doubt, you've been scrubbed from the class lists. Your tuition forfeit just like your independence.

There is little solace to find in your circumstance. You can stay with Bucky, afraid and alone, or you can strike an ounce, a semblance of vengeance.

You feel the tickle on the nape of your neck. That day in his class when he sat beside you, his arm hooked behind your seat, as he played the tortured admirer. Then all those times, in his office, in hushed tones in the hallway, in his car, at the hotel, how he bemoaned the wrongness, the risks.

Well, he gambled and he will lose. Something, anything, maybe not everything.

You get to the historic building and look up at brown brick, set a century or so ago, standing the test of time. It stood here long before you and will remain long after you. You climb the steps to the arched wooden doors and let your feet carry you off sheer memory.

As you near his office, the door is closed. You recall how you met him here, what he did to you inside, the words, the way he touched you, the way he coiled around like a snake around a mouse.

You read his name engraved in the gold plate and raise your hand, pausing as you hear a giggle from within. You step closer and turn your ear to the wood. The laughter turns to a purr, the shallow breaths of pleasure underline by his low encouragements. Those once spoken to you.

You hit the door. Hard.

The office goes quiet and you wait. Whispers, waiting. Then it starts again. You knock just as quickly, hammering with the side of your hand.

A sigh and some muttered disappointment. You hear shuffling and the click of his soles as he nears the other side. You haven't thought of what to say. Or even do.

"May I--" he stops short as he sees you. His face tenses with his surprise and he fixes his tie.

A young girl stands by the chair, gathering up her bag as she tries not to show her awkwardness. She keeps her lashes low and refuses to look at you.

"Professor, I should go--"

"I'm pregnant!" You burst out suddenly.

Her mouth hangs open and Loki blinks slowly, eyes rolling sardonically to the side.

"And what does that have to do with--"

"It's yours," you interrupt, shaking with adrenaline, plunging headfirst into the unknown. "You know," you step forward and elbow past him as you speak to the girl, "I sat there once. He said the same things to me, touched me the same way, told me he's too old, too afraid..."

He grabs your arm and pulls you back, "don't listen to her. She doesn't go hear anymore, for obvious reasons. She's delusional."

"I'm not delusional, maybe a little broken, maybe a little sad, maybe?" You tug away from him, "but don't be like me. Say something or run. Do anything but let him do what he does."

"Loki?" She murmurs as her eyes shine.

He huffs and waves her off, "whatever, it was fun while it lasted."

She scoffs and her brows arch, "you're a pig. I should tell the dean--"

"That you came onto me? I'm certain he'll believe you. Besides, the union will protect me. Like they did last time."

You're surprised by that. Last time? Doesn't matter. She sneers and storms towards him. He doesn't flinch even as her palm collides with his face.

You step aside as she sweeps out with some select words for the professor. He shakes his head as he watches her go with dull irritation. He grasps the door and swings it shut, jolting you.

"Well, what is it you want from me? You and your... bastard?"

You squint at him. He hasn't changed, not that you expect he would. It only emboldens you to keep on.

"It's yours, we both know it."

"Do I? No one's seen you for two months. How do I know you haven't been hiding with some boy. We both know it isn't very difficult to get between your legs--"

"You know," you insist, "I'm not that far but I am."

"You stupid girl--"

"You stupid man!" You bluster, "you did this. You... you know better. The first time, the second time."

He looks away, crossing his arms as he paces. It's the first time you've seen him uneasy. Truly and completely unprepared.

"Your mother--"

"Should I tell her too?"

"She wouldn't believe you. She thinks you've run off with some college boy, just like she did. She did tell you about your father, didn't she?"

"Don't," you warn.

He chuckles and turns to lean against his desk, long legs angled beneath him, "she still calls. Drives in every weekend so I have to hide away my pets..."

You shudder and clench your fists, "I will tell everyone I need to destroy your life. Just like you did mine--"

"Or perhaps you might take a tumble down those stairs and it there won't be anything to tell?" He stands straight, "we can both make threats."

"I'm not walking away with nothing. Not again."

"Oh, I know you won't, because you can't," he says loftily, "no doubt, you've escaped whatever fool you've been hiding with. I have an idea of who it is. He did make another visit after our last romp. He left without content. Pity."

"I'm not going to get rid of it."

"No, I suspect you won't, so let us barter," she nears and brings a curled finger up under your chin, "you're nothing special, you were just another girl and yet, I do look back fondly at the feel of you around me."

You grimace and pull away, "you're disgusting."

"And you're a used toy," he counters, "so, money? Is that what you seek?"

"It's what I need, what your baby needs," you affirm.

"And you you expect me to... care for that child?" He asks reluctantly.

"I don't expect you to care about anything. I learned that the hard way."

"Well, I suppose it's only owed. Your needs taken care of, and the child too," he turns his hand out, "I can afford it. Your mother may not be happy to have her tainted daughter back on her doorstep--"

"I'm not going back to my mother."

"Certainly, you won't stay with me--"

"Never," you snort, "my own place, for me and the baby."

His jaw grits and his lashes flutter in agitation, "fine."

"Fine," you agree and stretch out your fingers.

"And I will visit, like a good father and you will behave as a good mother," a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, he reaches for you once more, walking you back until you hit the door, "like the good little pet you always were."

"No. No," you catch his hand, "I can't. I won't. My mother--"

"Your mother would let me bend you over in front of her and enjoy her wine all the more," he swats away your hand and frames your through, "she might even love you if you can make me happy."

You swallow and press yourself to the wood. This was a bad idea but what other option do you have?

"Please, I'm pregnant--"

"As you do keep reminding me off. So, you protect that child, we wouldn't want you getting hurt," his green eyes gleam, "do we?"

You reluctantly nod as his hand slips under the weight of yours. He slides it down to grope your chest and squeezes with a hum.

"Take a seat, pet, you did interrupt me and office hours are not over," he pulls you away from the door, "doesn't this bring back memories, darling?"

[ninzied]

good night moon, good night stars

anthony reads to baby edmund and kate during a storm.

also on ao3.

It is the sound of the storm that wakes her.

A thick roil of thunder that pulls her from sleep, and for a moment she can still feel the rumble, as though it emanates from her very bones. It is a disconcerting feeling, that her body knows something isn’t quite right even before her mind has fully woken.

Something isn’t right.

Kate sits bolt upright in bed.

It is the sound of the storm that wakes her – but not the sound of dear baby Edmund. Edmund, who’d inherited his mother’s unease with loud thunder, the relentless patter of rain on the windows. How the very house seems to come alive in the wind, waking with a creak and a groan, shifting all its parts around like something utterly restless.

She turns, pulling the covers back, and—

Anthony is not there.

Her hand finds only cold sheets and a pillow. He has not been there in some time.

Panic grips her mind, but her body is already moving, lighting the wick at her bedside and standing. The floor is chilled, but she hasn’t the time to search for her slippers. She hastens toward the center of their room, candlelight flickering in her wake. Lady Bridgerton had insisted on employing a wet nurse for them, but Kate sleeps better when he is near.

The bassinet is empty, too.

Kate wonders if she isn’t still dreaming. If she’ll wake once the real storm has passed, curled up against Anthony’s side with baby Edmund soundly asleep just nearby.

There’s a flash of lightning outside, and she flinches before the thunder even sounds. Heart hammering, she slips through the door into the darkened hallway, stepping solidly through the odd shadows cast by the small flame in her hand.

She walks quickly, hardly knowing where her feet are taking her until she’s already arrived.

She stands before the late Lord Bridgerton’s library, and surely enough, the door is slightly ajar. A low gleam of candlelight seeps through the crack, and with it, she hears Anthony’s voice.

Kate closes her eyes for a moment. She leans her entire being into that sensation of sound, its cadence deep and lulling. There’s a rhythm to it now that’s absent from Anthony’s regular speech. Hearing it sends an instant calm through her body, settling her nerves, sinking them into a deep state of rest.

She knows that rhythm, intimately.

She’s heard it so many times now, soothed by its slow, steady lilt as a storm brewed outside, rain lashing against the windowpanes. He would read to her in their bed, until all other sound faded away. Until nothing existed but the warmth of his body, the low tenor of his voice as he set the book down and pulled her into his arms, reciting the rest into the curve of her shoulder, the hollow part of her throat. Creating a world with only their bodies, quite apart from the one they were in.

Creating new life, too, as it so happened.

Kate edges the door open just a bit wider now, peering in.

Anthony is seated at one of the thick leather armchairs, his hair mussed with sleep, his shirt collar open. He is reading to their child. Keats, if Kate is not mistaken.

And he always claimed not to be a man of poetry.

Baby Edmund is half-asleep in his arms, dark lashes fanned out over soft, round cheeks. He’s tucked into his blanket, but one of his hands has made its small escape, little fingers curled over the edge.

“Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,” Anthony murmurs. “Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, and so live ever—”

He pauses in his reading, glancing up at Kate as she approaches. “I was hoping the storm wouldn’t wake you. And I was certain this little one would. I’m sorry if I alarmed you in our absence.”

He cradles Edmund with one arm, reaching the other out for Kate as she joins them on the armchair.

“You did,” she admits, kissing his cheek as he looks upon her with some chagrin. “But it does not signify now, I promise.”

He appears skeptical, but then she takes the book from him, smiling down at the open page. “What concerns me more, my lord, is that I’m not so sure this is appropriate reading for his age.”

“Mm,” says Anthony, innocently. “Is that so?”

“Well, let’s see. Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast, to feel for ever its soft fall and swell?” She raises her eyebrow in question.

Anthony smiles, and God help her if baby Edmund is to inherit those mischievous dimples of his. “Perhaps, viscountess, you’d like if I read it to you sometime instead.”

She nestles herself against him, feeling his smile touch her hair in a kiss. “Depends, my lord. Would there be actual reading involved?”

His laugh is but a low rumble deep in his chest, a kind of thunder all his own that only makes Kate want to move even closer.

She reaches for Edmund’s hand too, feeling it form a tiny fist around her finger. Anthony pulls them both further into him, thumbing the book for another poem to read, and the rest of the world quiets, into the steady beat of a full heart.

[xivu-arath]

an inquisitor having a good time

“Tread softly, little Sith,” Khem Val rumbles, looming a little too close as Meyrikh tries to catch her breath. Her hands tremble, though she hopes it’s from the stunning bolts she was hit with and not anything more fragile. Fighting comes more easily to her after Korriban, and now that Zash has provided manuals to study from, tutors to help keep her from slicing her hands off, but being surprised brings up the reflexes of a slave, not a Sith.

She should be stronger than this – not just that but smarter, more ready. This errand had meant coming close to Grathan’s territory, but she had thought she was well beyond any checkpoints. She hadn’t expected an ambush by people trained to fight Sith.

Of course, that is the point of an ambush. What hurts is that it worked so well, and that she can still feel her heart beating furiously, almost at the back of her throat.

“Is there something you want to say?” she asks, turning away from the bodies. Khem grunts, and she can feel his scorn ripple off of him like heat.

“You flinch. You grapple with weakness, and there is no place for weakness here.”

“I am not weak,” she mutters, but he keeps going all the same.

“I think that when you falter next, I will devour you.”

It’s hardly the first time he’s uttered that threat, and it’s certainly not the worst one she’s heard, but there’s something about hearing it now, with corpses at her feet, the thrill of lightning still crackling in the Force and her own shame thick on her tongue. It reaches down and claws out something sharp-edged and trembling, and Meyrikh flings out an arm in the same instant.

For all that Khem is half again her height and all dense muscle, he’s hurled back and away from her. She’s on him before he can get back to his feet, lightning arcing from her hands. She can’t keep it up for long after the other fight, but her fear and fury give it strength, if not sustenance.

“Enough,” she spits over the hum of power, and when it fades, it leaves the Dashade on his knees. “You will not threaten me again. You will not try to kill me, now or ever again. Not unless –” She falters. He’d raised his arms to ward off the damage, and she can’t help being struck by the memory of having been in that same position countless times, hoping that a guard or taskmaster will take the easier target offered.

Now she’s the one standing over someone, seeing them cower and knowing she could be more cruel if she chose it. Her anger dies just as quickly as it had roused, and she’s left empty-handed and aghast, staring at him.

“Good,” Khem says, heedless of her reaction. Or perhaps not. She’s always been able to read people easily, known the right things to say to keep herself safe, but he is inscrutable, even when threatening her. Meyrikh can’t help but think of him as half person and half some old predator, something that lurks in the depths and waits to drag its prey down. “Fear becomes rage, rage becomes power. You are learning, little Sith.” She can already see the beginnings of the burn marks on his arms as he lowers them, though he makes no move to heal the damage.

This is not what she wants to become, but if it is this or death, Meyrikh knows what she will choose. Always.

“I was left little choice,” she says instead of voicing something he would probably take as more weakness. Had he been trying to goad her into lashing out? Should she even feel guilty for it? He might follow at her heel and obey some of her orders, but he has more power than she ever did.

She had always thought being Sith must be easy. The few she had seen before Korriban had seemed so set apart that they might as well have been walking on air. Everyone obeyed them without question, and they had the power to do anything they wanted.

Maybe she’s the only one it’s so difficult for, because she can’t trust either that power or the freedom it should bring.

“So,” she says, before her silence invites any further commentary. “You had better mind what you say. I’m no longer the acolyte that first bound you.”

“You are not,” he agrees. “I listen and obey, my master. When you die, it will not be at my hands.”

Hearing that does little to ease either her guilt or her doubts, but it’s still something. Surely it’s worth it, to no longer fear him at her back.

Surely.

[volleychumps]

Heyy! Can you do one where Osamu, kuroo, akaashi and Tsukishima, say something mean to their s/o and their s/o avoids them for days? When they finally get ahold of their s/o, their s/o just sorta cries because it hit their insecure spot? Fluff in the end🥺

Listen, I can’t not write this. 

Irrevocable Words. 

- the one in which they accidentally make you give them the silent treatment because of their lashing out. -

~ Osamu Miya, Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji, and Tsukishima Kei~ 

TW: Cursing, angst to fluff, timeskip! for Osamu, 

------------------

Osamu Miya

“Those are important files, ya know?” 

“Samu, I’m sorry. You should’ve told me you needed last month’s earnings and I would’ve looked for them before we came this morning.” The hand you tried to settle onto Osamu’s bicep was shaken off as your movements faltered. 

Your voice wobbled at the sight of your stoic fiance, an annoyed glint in his eye as he rummages through his files. Osamu felt a flare in his stomach, a lack of sleep contributing to his impatient state. The day had been a busy one, Osamu deciding that he needed this particular file for his business call tomorrow before the two of you headed home for the night. 

“I told ya not to move anything back to the place.”

“I didn’t.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Here, just let me help-” 

“Don’t touch a goddamn thing, I’ll do it myself.” There it was. The lashing out that was bound to happen occurred with a pointed tongue as he refused to look at you, rummaging through his file cabinets. “As I do everything else.” 

He closes the cabinet sharply. “The least ya could do is try your best not to be a nuisance-” 

Osamu flinches at the slam of one of the office desk drawers, chest sinking when he sees the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The paper he needed is thrown on the desk carelessly as you shove your jacket on, wetness slipping down your cheeks.

“And I’m not your goddamn secretary. I’m heading home first.” 

“Y/N-” 

“And don’t worry, I promise I’ll manage to do this by myself somehow.” Your voice cracks bitterly, the bell by the door jingling mockingly in Osamu’s ears as you exit, the chef hanging his head with a sigh and regret tinging his chest.

He was wrong to pray this would blow over, not expecting to wake without your warmth by his side. You avoided him on the way to the restaurant, cleaning quietly while giving vague answers to his questions, shifting out of his attempts to embrace you with apologies. 

Deciding to give you space, he softly tells you to take the next few days off, unprepared for the tired look you had given him, simply nodding in response as you slipped into your side of the bed with your back turned to him.

“Where’s your pretty girlfriend?” 

“Fiance.” Osamu forces a smile at his two elderly regulars two days later, the wife’s smile widening at his correction. 

“Oho! Cherish each other while you youths still can, she really does brighten this place up, doesn’t she?” 

You do.

Osamu’s eyes feel hot as he does a messy job of cleaning up the restaurant, closing up shop early and stopping by your favorite bakery to pick up the ridiculously expensive cake he only ever buys for your birthday. 

Throwing the door open to your shared apartment hastily, you gasp at the gray-haired man’s sudden entry, dropping the spoon you were about to use to taste the dish you were making on the stove.

“Samu, y-you’re home early-” 

“What’s all this?” He tries to steady his breaths at the sight of a nicely prepared table, something you hardly ever got to share ever since the night shifts overtook your lives and caused a rift between the two of you. 

You’re silent for a second, looking away from his warm stare as you shift under his gaze. 

“...I miss you.” Dark eyes widen when you begin to hiccup over your words, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “But I didn’t wanna be a nusciance-”

“Oh god, darlin’ no.” You’re pulled tightly into his chest as you cry, whole body shaking with tremors as Osamu’s inner turmoil merely increases.

If Osamu could go back in time and punch himself he would, unknowing of the torment he caused you over the past few days, thinking you just needed space. 

“I want to marry ya Y/N, I’m so sorry.” 

“I love you so much Samu.” You sniffle into his chest, causing him to smile softly, a hand sifting through your hair to hold you tighter to him. 

“I brought cake.” 

You laugh through the onslaught of tears. 

“And I made dinner.” 

“Then what are we waitin’ for?” 

“Just hold me like this for awhile?”

“Y/N.” He kisses the top of your head, finally feeling at ease with your figure in his arms. Osamu whispers a confession he hardly shared with you, wanting those words in particular to be special as he bridged the gap between the two of you.

“I love ya so much more, don’t you go forgettin’ it.”

Kuroo Tetsurou

“I said I was sorry!” 

“Is sorry supposed to just fix everything, Tetsurou?” 

“Tetsurou? Are you seriously withholding me from my nickname privileges?” 

You cross your arms at his attempt to make you laugh, thoroughly angry with the mess your boyfriend made of things as his smile fades at your peeved stare. 

“Look, what was I supposed to do?” 

“How about not leaving my parents waiting for you at the restaurant that you invited them to for another one of your spontaneous volleyball practices?” 

“I texted you I had to cancel!” 

“That was a half hour before we were supposed to meet, Kuroo! They were so excited to meet you they got there early. God, why can’t you ever take things seriously?” 

“You’re right.” A bitter chuckle slips Kuroo’s lips as you falter at the sudden tone change, the volleyball gym seeming bigger than ever as his next sentence makes your lips tremble.

“Since I can’t ever take things seriously, then I must not need my serious girlfriend then, right?” Your eyes widen. “I can just find somebody else who won’t fucking hound me all the time.”

His cat-like eyes widen as the words slip his tongue, unintentionally coming out crueler than he intended. To make it worse, you simply stayed silent, your body physically backing down and away from him as you turned on your heel. 

“Wait, I didn’t-” 

“Do it then.” His chest just about shatters as your shoulders tremble, refusing to turn back around as your voice takes on an uncharasterically defeated tone. “I hope they make you fucking happy.” 

Kuroo runs a hand through his raven hair frustratedly at the way you rushed out of the gym, throwing a stray ball so hard at the wall before his vision becomes skewed with heat. 

He should have expected the next week to be utter hell. You left class before he could catch you by escaping to the bathroom with all your things, leaving school another way instead of the exit you always took together before he had to start club activities. 

“Kenma, what are you doing?” 

“You can’t come in here.” 

“I’m missing class for this. Let me through.” 

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Kenma shrugged, eyes on his handheld. “I told her I’d watch the door so you can’t surprise her during our breaktime.” 

“I’m her boyfriend. And you’re not her guarddog.” 

“No, I’m her friend.” Kenma’s eyes narrow at his childhood friend. “And last time I checked, you’re on the search for someone who isn’t her.” 

“So she told you.” 

“Dick move, by the way.” 

Kuroo’s calls go straight to voicemail, his emotions affecting his playing with each passing day. He leaves little notes in your shoe locker to meet him, heart sinking more and more with every time you stood him up. 

And it wasn’t until he saw you smiling again at a joke Yaku made that he truly felt like he was losing you. 

“Go home.” 

The sight wasn’t one you were expecting to see, Kuroo sitting on the steps to your house with his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, the dark bags under his eyes sparking worry within you. 

“It’s probably better if my parents don’t see you-” 

“I’m sorry.” His eyes seem to have lost a little of their glint, regret swimming in the tall boy’s pupils as your guard softens. “I’m so goddamn sorry I ran my mouth and said shit I didn’t even mean-” 

“Tetsurou-” 

“And I hurt you in the process. I hurt the one thing that matters to me the most, and I’m sitting here playing the creepy ex that stalks the girl he loves-” 

“You love me?”

“Doesn’t matter, does it? You’re done with me, and I deserve it-” 

He’s cut off with the sight of tears hitting the wood in front of him, lifting his head to see tears streaking down your cheeks. On instinct, he reaches out softly, rising to his feet to cup your cheek, astonished when you curl into his touch. 

“I’m so fucking mad at you right now.” 

“Noted.” Kuroo laughs somberly, a wave of emotion hitting him as you do something you hadn’t done in days. 

You look him in the eye, tugging him closer by the sides of his jacket. 

“But I love you too, you absolute idiot.” 

Kuroo grins into the kiss you press onto his lips, heart lifting in weight as he pulls you closer. 

“Does this mean we can go back to Tetsu?” 

“I’m going back to ignoring you-” 

“No.” Kuroo’s tone turns serious as he holds you a little tighter. “I can’t do that again.” 

You smile as he presses a kiss to your temple lovingly. 

“Being away from you was complete and utter hell, sweetheart.” 

Akaashi Keiji

“Tell me how to make this right.”

“Right, Y/N.” Akaashi refused to meet your eyes as he loosens his school tie, not slowing his pace for you to catch up with as he throws the doors open to the volleyball club. The usually put-together setter had an angry glint in his eye that silenced his awaiting teammates. “Let’s just go back in time before you agreed to be his partner.”

“Hey hey, what’s going on you two?” Bokuto jogs up, his worried tone making your lips tremble even more at the sight of Akaashi’s turned back.

“I came to you as soon as he made a move! I didn’t let him-”

“There shouldn’t have been an opportunity for him to make a move in the first place.” Akaashi’s jaw clenched as you shuffle in place.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, you think I wanted him to try to kiss me?!” You fight the waver in your voice, standing your ground. “It was a project for class. I didn’t know his intentions-“

“I told you what his intentions were, but you never listen.” Akaashi turns hastily, startling you and causing you to stumble slightly backwards into Bokuto.

“Akaashi-“

“Stop defending her. She never listens to me, and then comes crying to me when it turns out I’m right.” Akaashi snips at his best friend, ignoring the silent stares from his quiet teammates. “Why can’t you get it through your head, Y/N? I’m not your goddamn babysitter-“

“You’re right.” You interrupt, fingernails biting into your palms as you choke back a sob. “You’re not, you’re my boyfriend. I just wanted to respect you by coming to you with something like this, but it turns out I’m just a hinderance.”

Akaashi falters for a second, blue eyes widening a fraction at the angry heat that fills your eyes as regret begins to bubble in his stomach at his harsh words.

“Y/N-“

“Give me some space, Keiji.” You say softly, patting Bokuto’s arm to let you through as your shoulders sink in a defeated manner. “I promise I won’t come crying to you about anything else.”

Your steps echo as you walk out of the gym, Konoha breaking the silence first when the door shuts behind you.

“Hate to say it, but that was well-deserved, man.”

Akaashi closes his eyes, head falling back towards the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing, pretending like he wasn’t scared of you slipping through his fingers. He willed himself to not allow himself to chase after you, his anger directed towards you fading as he forces himself to respect your wishes. 

It was obvious you were avoiding him. Akaashi had blinked when Bokuto had self-proclaimed that he needed you as his “study buddy” during breaks when you weren’t even in the same year as the owlish boy. It got worse when you seemed to panic when Akaashi willed you to talk to him, eyes refusing to meet his watery blue ones as you pushed him further away.

So he gave you your space, wilting with each passing day. It wasn’t until he accidentally bumped into you a week later, the setter turning hastily on his heel to walk in the opposite direction before a soft tug on the back of his school shirt wills him to stop. 

“Keiji.” Your wobbly voice makes him turn back around immediately, a soft palm already cupping your cheek gently. “I’m s-” 

“I’m sorry for being cruel.” The words are whispered against your forehead, Akaashi’s heartstrings tugging in the worst way possible. “I was angry at the situation, my love. And that sorry excuse you call a classmate. Please,” 

His grip tightens just a little more as he feels wet warmth drip into the palm that was cupping your face.

“Forgive me.” 

“I told you I wouldn’t come crying to you-” 

“I want it all, Y/N.” Akaashi pulls back slightly, voice cracking slightly as blue stares intensely into your irises. “I want all of you. Tears included.”

You swat his chest playfully as Akaashi manages a soft smile, hand threaded through your hair as he presses you against his chest.

“Do you still need space?” He murmurs, and you smile at the sound of his hearbeat picking up as he awaited your answer fearfully. 

“Nope. The exact opposite, please hold me?” 

His embrace relaxes immediately, and your heart skips a beat at the sound of his relieved sigh, his slight nod making the weight lift off your chest. 

“Good, now I can take care of your classmate-” 

“Keiji-”

“Nope, my love.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, Akaashi’s eyes swirling with devotion. 

“No one gets to try anything with you so long as you’re safe with me.” 

Tsukishima Kei 

“So I’m the bad guy again.” 

“Do you want the honest answer, Kei?” You exhaustedly run a hand through your hair as Tsukishima’s scowl deepens, his long legs easily catching up with you in stride as he tugs on your wrist as the rambunctious court gets further and further away. 

“It’s not my fault you’re insecure.” 

You flinch. “Well maybe you shouldn’t let the girls in the stands cling to you after your matches. They were all over you, Tsukki! And you didn’t seem to mind it one bit.” 

“What?” Annoyance brims the blonde’s voice as he takes another step forward, clenching his jaw when he sees the quiver in your lip, distrust filling the atmosphere between the two of you. 

“Afraid that they’re prettier or better than you’ll ever be?” 

You feel as if the wind was knocked out of your lungs, breath catching in your throat at his insinuation. His guard slackens almost immediately, clicking his tongue before turning away, too proud to apologize for the words he regretted as soon as they slipped his tongue like venom. 

“Yeah.” You laugh humorlessly, making brown eyes dart over to your expression immediately. “You’re 100% correct. I am afraid you’ll find someone better than me in all aspects. Because I love you, you absolute asshole. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

The silence that befalls the two of you in the deserted hall is broken when you flinch away when Tsukishima tries to take a step towards you. 

“I didn’t-” 

“You never mean to do anything, Kei.” You say in a hushed tone, turning your back on him in an attempt to shield the hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “But you somehow always manage to.” 

The win for Karasuno didn’t mean much to the blonde that night, hoping that this would just go away and things would be back to normal. However, it was anything but. You didn’t look his way once in class, disappearing when it was over. Your voice trembled as you had avoided his seemingly stoic eyes through his frames, simply stating that you wished for some time away from him. 

He was fine. Or at least pretending to be on the outside. In truth, he would never find better, because you were it for him, words that you would never catch slipping his mouth. So he put on a front, pretending that your absence had zero effect on him whatsoever. Pretending the brush of your body against him in the hall as you pass each other didn’t make the blonde want to cave. 

It was the smile you shot at Hinata during one of your breaks that caused him to. The first glint in your eye in awhile, and it had been caused by him of all people, prompting the tall middle blocker to tug you by the forearm into the corridor.

“Tsukishima-” 

“I hate this.” 

You falter for a second, guard back up in a flash as your back touches the wall. “What did I do?” 

“You didn’t do anything, and it’s pissing me off.” 

“I don’t follow-” 

“I was wrong.” His forehead touches your shoulder as you stiffen before relaxing against his familiar touch. “I don’t care how many times I have to apologize. You win, okay? I’m sorry.” 

“This is a rather aggressive apology-” 

“Y/N.” Tsukishima lifts his head so it’s level with your height, unprepared for the way tears brimmed your eyes at the proximity, your guard diminishing. 

“What if you do find someone better one day, Tsukki?” Your voice cracks, inner fears trickling to the surface. “Do I need to prepare myself to lose you-?” 

You gasp as Tsukishima’s jaw ticks before kissing you intensely, his hand touching your lower back to pull you closer. 

“No. You don’t need to do something stupid like that.” His eyes were slightly glaring at you, a flush across both his cheeks. “Because there is no one better than you, okay?” 

It was your turn for heat to flood your cheeks as your eyes widen a fraction, his breath tickling your ear as you stutter. “Kei-” 

“I love you too. I said it, are you satisfied now?”  

---------------------------------------------------------

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[lonely-lost-soul]

1,000 Follower Special

Members of the DreamSMP simping for you:

Dream, GeorgeNotFound, Sapnap, Technoblade, Phil, Wilbur, and Fundy

~No minor members obviously~

Dream: 

When the both of you started dating he knew he couldn’t let anyone know about you.

The only two people who he trusted to know about you were George and Sapnap, solely because they knew who you were before the both of you dated.

Dream met you during Wilbur’s revolt against the SMP, you were a member of one of the villages he frequented.

Dream would constantly trade with your grandparents for ender pearls. They happened to sell the cheapest ones.

One day instead of them you were standing in their place.

The both of you clicked instantly, you laughed at his jokes, and were filled with a certain spark and fire, that had him hooked.

It was safe to say he was addicted.

He adored you, when the time came for him to cut off all the things he loved he couldn’t leave you behind.

Therefore you were the only person he’d allowed himself to have when he had to get rid of all personal attachments. 

To him you were a goddess who could do no wrong, he’d kill for you.

If anyone hurt you all their lives would be gone in an instant. 

He still remembered the first kiss the both of you shared, he had just gotten back from a rough battle. 

Dream was practically bleeding out on your floor, you were screaming at him calling him an idiot. 

You were fretting over him like a mother hen, he just felt so warm and cared for, he took off his mask to give you a crooked smile before falling into your arms. 

He couldn’t help but think you looked gorgeous in your grey sweatpants, hair all messy, eyes glassy from sleep.

Another string of curses fell from your mouth as he leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. 

He felt fireworks pop against his lips and you for sure tasted the blood staining in his teeth. 

He then promptly passed out in your arms.

Dream woke up wrapped in your arms and on a cushy bed. 

He knew you tended to his injuries he also knew when you woke up you’d beat his ass.

At the moment, he felt nurtured and tended to, Dream buried his face in your chest and smiled to himself. 

You were his good girl.

GeorgeNotFound:

Waking up in the woods to a girl standing over him was certainly not how he envisioned the next stage of his life going. 

She glared down at him and he hesitantly adjusted the glasses on his face, he greeted her meekly and she huffed. 

She introduced herself to him and called him a pretty boy in such a condescending manner that it made his stomach wrap up in knots. 

Oh no she was mean and hot. 

You apparently lived very far from the SMP and had no idea how he got to where he was, maybe he slept walk or something. 

You knelt beside him and grabbed his cheeks between your fingers eyeing him like you were trying to see into his soul.

He passed whatever test you had because you helped him to his feet and offered up your home to him. 

Having no other options he agreed to go with you.

As months went by he realized you weren’t all that bad. You could cook, and let him sleep all he wanted. 

(Mostly to try and get his energy back, but still)

He learned you knew a lot about nature and loved animals probably more than anyone else he knew. 

You really were soft under that tough exterior and George loved that it was him who could make you like that.

As much as he enjoyed himself he couldn’t help but miss Sapnap and Dream.

Were they even looking for him? Dream had to care at least...right?

He felt guilty for being happy here, for being happy with you.

It took another month for George to recognize his feelings for you and as soon as he did Sapnap and Dream found him. 

They both seemed to like you after he clarified that, no you didn’t kidnap him. You were a kind soul who opened your home up to him.

Dream and Sapnap looked at one other with a smirk and George’s face turned red. 

The two of them left the house to let the both of you say goodbye to one another. 

George wrapped you in a hug and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, much to his surprise you kissed him back. 

It was hesitant and he could feel the nerves radiating off you. 

He pulled away and rested his head on your forehead, he loved the flush on your face. 

“Don’t be a stranger, pretty boy.”

“I won’t my savior.” 

Sapnap:

At first, his flirting was just good fun, after all, he flirted with everyone. 

What he wasn’t expecting was for you to flirt back just as hard and confident as he did.

It was Karl who pointed out that he’d get a faraway look in his eyes whenever he talked about you. 

Sapnap didn’t get his point and Karl glared at his denseness. 

“You like her Sappy Nappy.”

“What no I- Oh shit.” 

That’s how Sapnap knew he was fucked, cause now all he could ever do was think about his crush on you. 

Sapnap at first tried to avoid you and Karl had to knock some sense into him, saying that, that was not the way he would win you over. 

Ironically, you pinned him to a tree and confronted the fire demon about his behavior.

Out of pure panic, he pressed his lips to yours, when you kissed back he was so flustered his hair caught on fire. 

You had to help him put it out with water because he couldn’t calm down enough to stop the flames from shooting out of his head. 

He was so flustered when you said you’d never let him live this down, but got over it the moment he felt your lips on his cheek (His hair almost went up in flames again).

From that moment on the both of you started dating.

You never minded his constant flirting with other people, he was glad too that was like some weird form of a love language to him. 

When Dream betrayed George and him you were there to comfort him. 

You assured him that you’d never leave his side no matter what happened. 

You would kiss him all over his face and whisper sweet nothings to him whenever he looked too lost in thought. 

He loved it. He loved being spoiled rotten.

When Karl and he moved to the Konoko Kingdom you were right by his side, you helped build your shared home from the ground up. 

You were his little Firecracker. 

Technoblade:

You were Phil’s little helper.

For as long as Technoblade knew his old friend you were by his side, you were quiet and tended mostly to the angel’s flock of crows. 

At first, The Blade thought nothing of you just the girl who always followed Phil around. 

Until he saw you stab through the chest of one of the Butcher’s army soldiers like they were butter. 

The blood that splattered your face and the unbothered look shook him to his very core. 

Oh no, you were hot. 

Technoblade was shaken out of his stupor by you handing him one of the weapons he had lost in the fight. 

You softly asked if he was alright to which he responded with a soft nod, his face was red and you raised an eyebrow.

He noticed a cut across your shoulder blade and reached out to touch the wound. 

You flinched at the touch and cradled the wounded shoulder with your hand, with a soft grumble he offered to patch up your shoulder. 

In the bathroom of his house he stitched up your shoulder, you let out of whines of pain.

The voices liked that way more than they should’ve and it made his face turn beat red. 

You looked up with him through your long lashes and he melted, the voices assuring him that he was ‘down bad.’

Phil came home and caught the both of you staring into one another’s eyes and he gave Technoblade a knowing smirk.

 The glare he sent his old friend was piercing. 

As days rolled into months his feelings for you never faded, especially since the both of you had grown closer. 

Eventually, Phil had forced Technoblade to at least ask you on a date, you dropped the birdseed at your feet and flushed up to the tips of your ears. 

You agreed eagerly and Technoblade was relieved. 

He had kissed you that night under the stars, it was a spur of the moment thing, the moonlight illuminated your best features. 

The voices couldn’t help themselves and he just listened impulsively 

Technoblade was relieved when you kissed him back, he’d protect you from all the horrors of government. 

You were his Princess. 

Philza: 

He’s lived for decades, seen those he loved grow old and pass away. 

That’s why he liked Technoblade, he lived as long as he had, had the same experiences as the angel of death. 

Phil swore he’d never love again, then he met you.

You lived next to him when he was living in New L’manburg and thought you were very pretty as well as very friendly. 

He didn’t know much about you only that:

You were fond of Ghostbur and he seemed to be fond of you.

It made Phil happy that someone else was looking after his dead son when he couldn’t.

Ghostbur had officially introduced the two of you a few weeks before Technoblade’s execution. 

After that moment, you both were practically inseparable.

You bonded over your love for building and all things shiny, he broke his own rule. 

He fell in love with you. 

When he caught wind of what the butcher army was planning on doing to Technoblade he frantically sent a crow to his companion. 

He was promptly placed under house arrest. 

You snuck in through his window once everyone departed for Technoblade’s retirement home and helped Phil disable his ankle bracelet. 

Phil pleaded for you to join him when he went to check up on Technoblade and you agreed wholeheartedly. 

The both of you flew towards Techno’s but it was already too late, they had him. 

You and Phil didn’t intervene. 

After the execution, he introduced you to Technoblade and he seemed satisfied with you sticking around.

Anyone who helped Phil out was a friend of his

You both acted like an old married couple.

Technoblade was dumbstruck to find out the both of you hadn’t had a first kiss yet let alone started dating. 

Phil hit him upside the head for that comment but it urged the old man forward to make his move on you. 

He set up a lovely dinner date, a homecooked meal by the fire was just what the both of you needed. 

You kissed him at the end of the night. 

It was soft and sweet just like you were, his hands tangled in your hair as he pressed close to you. 

You were his angel

Wilbur:

After Sally, he was sure he’d never love again.

That mantra lasted years, but after he won freedom for L’manburg, he had met you. 

You were a crew member of Captain Puffy’s ship and he always did love watching the boats come and go from the ocean. 

You had arrived in L’manburg alongside Puffy and he fell for you hard and fast.

He was a blushing, stuttering mess as you smirked over at him. 

You were strong and tough and he wanted nothing more than for you to pin him against a wall. 

After talking with Puffy you decided to stay in L’manburg and get a feel for the country, Wilbur was ecstatic. 

He showed you around all proud of what he created, you interlocked your hands with his and he felt faint. 

The two of you were an item not soon after.

Fundy approved, happy his father was finally moving on plus he loved your take no shit attitude. 

They both loved when you sang the best. 

You always had a wide assortment of sea shanties to share, and a plethora of stories to tell. 

You had taught a few of them to Wilbur so he could play them on his guitar, another great bonding moment he remembered fondly. 

When you sang it was the only time he ever considered you soft. 

Before Wilbur announced the results of the election you had done the very thing he hoped you would do when he first met you.

Grab him by the hair, pin him against a wall and give him a heated kiss that made his knees weak.

“Go get them, Wilby.” 

“Yes ma’am.”

Losing was not something either of you foresaw. You ran away with him and Tommy to join Pogtopia. 

You were by his side in his slow descent into his eventual madness and stayed by his side up until his inevitable death. 

As he slowly died in you and Phil’s arms you sung to him one final time.

He told you he loved you on his last breath.

You were his muse.

Fundy:

Being left at the altar was one of the most horrifying experiences Fundy had ever had the displeasure of going through.

You’d been there when Dream left with George, you had threatened to stab out the man’s eyes. 

You stayed beside him the entire night, you refused to take no for an answer. 

Fundy had never been more vulnerable than he was with you that night.

He was embarrassed at first but you shushed him and assured him it was alright.

Fundy flushed and felt guilty for doing so, he shouldn’t feel that way around you. 

Your hand reached up to pet his ears and he began to purr loudly in your arms. 

Eventually, Fundy realized he had feelings for you.

Much like Sapnap, he went to immediate Panic Mode.

He didn’t want for this to end up like Dream again, not that you were anything like him, but at the same time, he didn’t want to ruin your friendship. 

However, much to his surprise it was you who confessed to him. 

Fundy said he felt the same before you even finished your confession. 

His tail was wagging rapidly and he had to physically hold it down to stop it from wagging 

Which was something you laughed at but he felt embarrassed about, you had to assure him that you thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world.

He whined at that but you kissed all over his cheeks so he had to immediately forgive you. 

Fundy introduced you to Wilbur who grilled you about your love for Fundy, he wanted to kill his dad. 

You assured him that you loved Fundy, and would never want to hurt him. 

Wilbur seemed satisfied with your response and wished both of you well. 

After Wilbur left, Fundy kissed your lips softly, his tail once again wagging rapidly.

As he pulled away you leaned back in and kissed him back, your hand gently stroked his ears and he purred again. 

He knew for sure he was going to marry you, and it wouldn’t end up like Dream and his wedding.

However, that was still a long way away.

For now, he just had to settle for you being his dream girl.

~~~

Hey guys! Thank you so much for 1,000 followers??? I am honored and shocked thank you all so much! Thank you to everyone who send me supportive messages and my amazing anon’s who member fail to cheer me up. Many more stories and projects are in the works but I wanted to do something special and different for the big 1,000. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy 😊

[wkemeup]

favorite fanfic trope: enemies to lovers but it's the moment when their tension is at its peak 😈

title: The Mess I Made - submitted by anon summary: you may not be on the best terms with Bucky Barnes, but it doesn't stop you from coming to his defense prompt: “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? It’s incredible how low my standards are for you.” / multiple requests for enemies to lovers word count: 1.5k a/n: enemies to lovers is already tough for me and to do it in drabble form is impossible for me because it requires a slow burn, but I did my best!!

You were on your way to the tower's gym when you heard Bucky’s voice echo from the end of the hall. Towel swung over your shoulder, headphones barely even grazed your ears as you paused, turning down the music. Bucky’s shadow danced over the walls as his run his hands through his hair. A woman’s shadow emerged next to him, her heels clicking against the tiles.

You rolled your eyes. Bucky’s latest string of conquests were an inconvenience at best. His pathetic attempt to rekindle whatever version of himself he idolized from the forties in the form of cheap, meaningless hookups was just another reason you made every effort to steer clear of Barnes. His seemingly indifference towards you made easy to do so.

Steve wouldn’t let it go – his questioning of why the two of you could never get along. It wasn’t that you hated Barnes. You didn’t know him well enough to hate him. You just didn’t care for what you saw. He was guarded and cold. Condescending and arrogant. Half the time, you barely believed Steve’s stories of Bucky’s charming days in the forties. The rare moments you caught his smile, it looked forced. It barely touched his eyes and he wore a mask to bring home women who spent their nights admiring an arm he would not allow them to touch.

The rare moments you thought you saw something genuine in him, he’d lashed out. The cracks in his foundation breaking through the surface in the screams at the night of dead of night, flinching at loud noises, the easy transition to taking orders and losing himself for the briefest of moments.

You’d made the mistake once of trying to comfort him. His eyes had glazed over in the middle of a conversation. There were dozens of agents around for the annual holiday party and Bucky was in another world entirely. His pupils were dilated, his hands shaking as he closed them to fists. You never learned what triggered it, but the moment you laid a gentle hand upon his forearm, Bucky had you in a chokehold.

It took both Sam and Tony’s strength to wield Bucky away from you, all while he was practically foaming at the mouth, screaming at you to never touch him again. He was rabid as Sam and Tony struggled to hold him back. The whole party stopped to watch the scene unfold – as Bucky hurtled countless insults at you.

He was drinking Thor’s liquor. He had to have been. Half of what he said that night barely made any sense. None it worth the audacity to lay a hand upon his arm to draw him back from wherever his mind had taken him. Perhaps, if you weren’t so thoroughly humiliated, you might have considered as much.

But what he said that night stayed with you and you never let it go.

“Why don’t you stay, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice carried down the hall.

You tapped your foot impatiently at the elevators, desperate for an escape before he turned the corner. You noticed the woman’s heels were still clicking on the floors. She hadn’t stopped.

“Let me take you for breakfast, at least,” Bucky asked, a nervousness in his voice you didn’t recognize. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking we could—”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” The clicking ceased and you watched as the woman’s shadow placed a hand on Bucky’s chest, stilling him in an instant. “I thought you knew what this was.”

“I did. I do, but,” Bucky started, running a hand through his hair. You’d never seen him act this way before – so unsure of himself. The elevator doors open and closed as you watched his shadow sway on his heels. “I just... I want to try something different. Something... real and I thought, since we had a nice night together you might...”

“What?” the woman scoffed. “You thought I would want to date you?”

Bucky stiffened. Even his shadow appeared to mask into stone. Dread curdled in your stomach and you found yourself inching down the hall, approaching the shadows.

“Listen,” the woman crooned, “you were great last night and sleeping with the Winter Soldier is a hell of a story, but you’re not exactly... relationship material.”

You froze, stunned.

Bucky awkward cleared his throat. “I-I know, and I’m working on that. I just thought—”

“Oh my God, take the hint!” the woman exclaimed and you flinched in time with Bucky’s shadow against the wall. “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? Clearly all I wanted was a good lay. I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about this clingy shit with the Winter Soldier for Christ's sake. It’s incredible how low my standards were for you.”

“What the hell is your problem?”

You rounded the corner, tossing your workout gear aside as you came face to face with the woman. She was a beautiful as the rest of them were – tall, stunning, probably one of the models you’ve seen on runways or on magazines. But her eyes were unkind, and dismissive.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she spat, shoving past your shoulder and heading to the elevator. You moved to block her when you felt the cold grasp of vibranium curl around your wrist, yanking you out of her path.

“Hey!” you yelped, watching as the woman made her escape into the elevator. You snatched your hand back, massaging at the tender muscle. “What the hell, Barnes?”

“I don’t need you coming to my rescue,” Bucky bit back. “I had it handled.”

You scoffed, the image of Bucky’s form flinching as she called him ‘pathetic’ still fresh in your mind. You’d never known him to back down from a fight. Hell, he’d gotten into a screaming match with a paparazzi for daring to ask how his morning jog went. Bucky didn’t roll over and play dead. But he let that woman wrap a hand around his throat until he choked.

“Sure looked handled,” you rolled your eyes. “She was walking all over you.”

“My sex life is not your concern,” he growled, his voice low as his eyes hooded.

“I never said a damn thing about your sex life, Barnes.” You shook your head, already regretting stepping in at all. It was pointless – foolish even – to think that he might be appreciative of your intervention, of the fact that despite the tense history between you, you would never stoop as low as that woman did.

You bent down and picked up the gym bag you’d let slip from your hands. “If you want to be treated like shit, then by all means, have fun with your next one night stand. I'll steer clear of the fallout.”

You started to head back towards the gym when you heard Bucky groan rather dramatically behind you. You paused, glancing over your shoulder as Bucky hit a fit against the wall.

“What is your—”

“You are so goddamn infuriating!” Bucky snapped and your jaw dropped.

“Are you serious right now? Me? I’m the infuriating one?” You released your bag, letting the weights hit the floor as you stalked back to him. “You’re the ungrateful jerk who just yelled at the one person who bothered to stand up for you!”

Bucky gritted his teeth. “I never asked you to do that!”

He was only inches away. His breath hot against your cheeks. You could see the dark blue specs in his eyes from this close. The blacks of his eyes nearly consuming him whole.

“Maybe that’s your problem, Barnes,” you sneered. “You think you need to ask for help, that it’s earned or deserved, but it’s not! Sometimes people just want to help you, you asshole! Sometimes, people can be good and can care about you without expecting that you—”

Your back hit the wall as Bucky’s weight pressed to your chest. His lips crashed against yours, his hand slipping into your hair. Everything in him moved with purpose, with adrenaline spiked into his veins and fury in his bones – but not his hands. Even as his lips hungrily devoured yours, his hands were gentle as they caressed the nape of you neck, as they slid down your hips.

What surprised you more – was that you kissed him back. Your hand clutched into the thin fabric of his t-shirt, your lips parting for him as he brushed him tongue over yours. It was the kind of kiss that left you feel dizzy – like you’d been under for too long, your lungs aching, and still you had no desire for air.

When he finally did draw back, it was only when he was breathless. His chest panting in time with yours, his forehead dipping to rest against your collarbone. He paused for a moment, even as his fingers gently pressed into the nape of your neck as if upon keys of a piano.

“I don’t know why I did that,” Bucky confessed.

You chuckled. “I do.”

He lifted his head and you smiled when you saw his lips were pink and swollen. You brushed a hand over his cheek.

“Because even when I hated you, I still cared about you, Barnes. It’s not black and white. It’s messy and it’s grey. But I can handle a little mess, can’t you?”

Bucky swallowed, slow to the smile that crept upon his lips, but still—it came. “Yeah, I can handle messy.”

When he kissed you again, he didn’t hesitate.

[ameliora-j]

twin flame ii // gw x reader

words: 2k

warnings: angst. like a LOT. bestfriend breakup, mention of blood

a/n: this one is significantly shorter than the first,, sry besties :)

part one | part three | part four

your heart twisted itself in pained knots, increasing the pounding of your head tenfold. it had been this way for days now. christmas with the weasleys came and went and the tension between you and george was thick. you could barely even look at each other without passing hard glares. you had all planned to go to the field at the back of the burrow and play quidditch, and you were currently tasked with collecting george. you knocked gently on the twins’ door before opening it. “hi georgie,” you beamed.

“hello butterfly,” he spat the nickname bitterly and you were taken aback. you ignored the twinge of pain in your chest as you stepped further into the room.

“um… we’re all gonna go and play quidditch. if you wanna join,” you offered a smile. “i need my broom partner,” you had never learned how to fly a broom. you figured life should be lived on the ground, the way merlin intended it to be.

“no thanks,” he grumbled.

“c’mon georgie, we’re the dream team!” you persisted.

“why don’t you ask charlie to be apart of your dream team. seems he’s already replaced me with everything else in your life,” the last part was muffled, not intended for your ears, but you still heard it. you furrowed your brows slightly before answering.

“don’t be silly georgie, i can’t play quidditch without my partner. you can’t break up the dream team,” you pushed, ignoring your confusion.

“yn, i’d really rather not watch you eye-fuck my brother. go ask him to be on your team. or better yet, learn to fly a broom. it’s truly not that hard of a task, even a simpleton such as yourself should be able to catch on quickly,” he seethed.

your heart skipped a beat as it sunk to your stomach and tears pooled at your bottom lash line. you nodded once and pivoted on your heel to leave the room. you sniffled quietly as you closed the door to his room and went downstairs. “george?” fred asked as you came into view.

“he doesn’t wanna play,” you murmured half heartedly as you pushed passed the group of people to go outside. you released a sigh as you plunked yourself down onto the grass, lying back and throwing your arms over your eyes as you forced yourself to keep your tears at bay.

“hey, ynn, c’mon you can fly with me,” charlie offered with a smile as he held a strong arm out to you.

“nah, ‘s okay charlie. i’ll watch with fleur and hermione,” you murmured softly.

charlie’s brows furrowed slightly. you had never called him ‘charlie.’ it was always ‘char char.’ “you okay?” he asked and you simply nodded in response. he released a sigh as he jogged to the center of the field where his other siblings, and harry, were at.

“what happened mon amour?” fleur asked you softly.

“he called me stupid,” you sniffled. “said i replaced him with charlie but i didn’t,” you whimpered softly as you confided in the two girls sat on your sides. “he hates me. this was a stupid plan. ‘m just gonna go home,” you sobbed softly, causing fleur to pull your head to her lap as she trekked her fingers through your hair.

“i’m sorry, yn. i didn’t know he would react like this,” hermione spoke softly.

“not your fault, mione,” you murmured half heartedly as you stood and wiped your eyes. “‘m gonna go home,” you released a shaky breath as you pushed yourself to stand.

you dusted your bottom off as you walked back into the burrow. you waved your wand, packing your stuff neatly in your bag before you wrote a note, thanking molly and arthur and left it on the counter. you grabbed your bag and headed to the fireplace, throwing the floo powder and taking yourself to your childhood home.

“hey yn!” your older brother greeted. “thought you were spending break with the weasleys?” he asked, confused.

“yeah,” you murmured despondently as you walked up to your room.

“okay?” his brows furrowed slightly. when you got to your room, you took out a pair of sweatpants and a gryffindor sweatshirt that you stole from george’s wardrobe and forced yourself to shower.

the water was hot. boiling even. you should have flinched at the heat. screamed. cried. something. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. you were uncomfortably numb. so you just stood there, unmoving, staring at the shower wall as the scorching hot water fell over your body. your breaths came out irregularly as you stood there. your body was screaming for you to get out. to turn down the heat of the water. to do something to stop the pain of the burns. but your mind told you that you deserved this. you needed to feel something other than the pain twisting around in your chest.

by the time you stepped out, your skin was tinted with a slight pinkish color. you took a ragged breath in as you dried yourself off and pulled on the sweatpants and sweatshirt. you didn’t even bother brushing through your hair as you pulled up the hoodie and tied the strings tightly. you whimpered soft as your tears made a trail on the floor on your trek back to your room. you crawled out of your window and climbed up to the roof. you ended up falling asleep on your roof, exhausted from the weight of your tears.

~~

you spent the rest of your christmas break—and longer—at your own home. you didn’t return untill fred had owled you telling you had three more days of paid vacation for the year. you flooed to your shared apartment with the twins and changed into your uniform, brushing through the knots in your hair that had accumulated over the days you laid in bed, sulking. you walked down the stairs into the shop as you pulled your hair into a ponytail and took your post at the till. “sorry ‘m late,” you murmured to fred, who appeared to be filling in for you at the present moment.

“you okay, bunny?” fred asked as he slid over so you could take over. you could only manage a despondent hum as you began working.

“thank you for shopping with weasley’s wizard wheezes, were you able to find everything okay today?” you asked the young wizard at the counter with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

that’s basically how the rest of your day went. forcing your tears back everytime george had to speak to you and being only half present with the customers instead of your usual lively self. when the day had ended and george locked the doors, you walked into the twins’ office and handed fred an envelope. “what’s this, bunny?” he asked you.

“my two weeks,” you murmured softly.

“you’re quitting?” he asked with raised brows.

“yeah,” you murmured. “found a job uh… closer to home. my brothers will be by to collect my stuff tomorrow,” you told him. “‘m gonna go pack,” you didn’t let fred say more as you quickly turned on your heel and walked back up to the apartment. “sorry,” you murmured as you bumped into george on your way up. he only gave you a distracted grunt in response.

as you walked up the stairs, you heard the argument brew between fred and george on your behalf. “fix her!” fred demanded.

“i didn’t do anything!” george defended.

“you broke her,” fred pushed back.

“she’s fine,” you could practically hear george roll his eyes.

“she’s quitting.” fred deadpanned.

“what?” george asked, shock lacing his tone.

“and she’s moving back with her brothers. so go and fix her. make this right,” you decided to end your eavesdropping here and rushed upstairs and into george’s room, where all your things were kept. you knelt on the floor as you took out your suitcases. you were halfway done when you heard the door creak open.

“butterfly?” your heart twisted and tears stung the backs of your eyes at the nickname you hadn’t heard in over a week. “whatcha up to?” he asked.

“packing,” you murmured softly, but he heard. and boy did he miss your voice like hell.

“for what?” he asked curiously as he sat on his bed.

“‘m moving back home. got a new job,” never once did you look up from your task, for you knew if you did, you would break.

“where at, butterfly?” he knelt on the floor in front of you as he began to help you fold your clothes.

“some muggle bookstore. ‘s close to the house,” your murmurs could barely be heard over the loud thumping of both of your hearts. however, george picked up on every word. he grasped your hands in his, effectively stopping your progress. “george please,” you whispered.

“look at me, butterfly,” he demanded softly.

“george,” you repeated a little bit louder.

“look at me. and tell me this will make you happy. and i will let you walk out that door.” you didn’t. you couldn’t. you knew that this isn’t what you wanted as well as he did. “you can’t, right? because it won’t,” he pointed out.

“i can’t be here, george. i don’t want to be,” you told him, still refusing to meet his gaze.

“why? because of me? because i will leave. yn, if that’s what it takes to make you happy, then i will walk out of that door and go back to live with mum. you only ever have to see me in a professional setting. and i’ll communicate with you through fred at work,” he spoke seriously.

“i don’t want that, george. and neither do you,” you told him.

“i don’t, but if it makes you happy then that’s what you’ll get,” he told you.

“no george!” you shouted.

“then what do you want?!” he shouted back.

“you george!” you yelled, finally meeting his gaze. “i want you! i’ve only ever wanted you but you’re too fucking stupid to see what’s right in front of you! i mean merlin’s beard george i’ve been in bloody love with you since fifth fucking year but you’re never seen it!” you finally released all the emotions you’ve been holding in for years. “i just wanted you,” you whispered softly, your voice cracking as tears fell.

you pushed yourself to stand from the floor and waved your wand, packing the rest of your stuff as you grabbed your suitcase. “butterfly, i-“ you quickly cut him off.

“don’t, george.” there was acrimony written all over your tone. “i don’t want your pity.” you sniffled and hastily wiped your eyes. you passed fred on your way out.

“yn?” he asked softly.

“bye fred,” you murmured softly. “i changed my mind. my resignation is effective immediately. i won’t be in tomorrow.”

“yn wait,” fred called.

“please don’t,” you shook your head. “d-don’t try and get me to stay. please just… just leave me alone,” you sniffled.

“i’m sorry…” he spoke softly. you just shook your head and wiped your tears away as you flicked your wand to apparate back home. when you landed on the road a few miles away from your house, you let out a wail of agony. your arm had splinched during the apparition process. you took a deep breath and pushed yourself through it. you knew this was a bad idea. every wizarding book in history advised against it. even a muggle would know not to. but you pushed past the thoughts to apparate into your living room.

“yn!” your older brother shouted as he saw you, blood pouring from your splinched right arm. you were only able to take two steps before you fell to the floor of your living room. you let out a soft groan and a whine of agony before closing your eyes, letting the feelings consume you. the pain in your arm cancelled out the pain in your chest as you let darkness overcome you, falling into the void, listening to the frantic screaming voices of your siblings.

stupid feelings. stupid boys. stupid george weasley. stupid twin flame.

twin flame. it’s almost laughable now. what a lie.

tags: @i-love-scott-mccall @ellerosie2332 @rmvb24 @astralpcrker @daisybloommm @maybeisthemoon @moonliightbabes @stormi-ames @jochim322 @coninl @melonoptimist @lunajoyce3 @clairdemoony @mangoberry99 @imclueless @enya-2004 @prongsyy @lol-whoandwhat-is-dis @burnfleur @anything444ourmoony @horrorxweasley @alicecullens-gf @theincredibledeadlyviper @georgeweasleyshoe3697 @narwhalebaby

* crossed out means i couldn’t tag you

add yourself to my taglist

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[gemma-collins-ily]

Hi, sorry to bother you but could I request a possessive/jealous kaz x female reader please? If you do it and it's not a bother please tag me in it

Keep You Smiling

Kaz Brekker X Reader

a/n - ooh, bit of angst, bit of fluff! Not sure yet if this will be headcanons or not!

Warnings: jealousy, flirting and generally horrible people I guess.

Tagged: @mrs-brekker15 @melody13522

The Bastard of the Barrel had lost everything he ever owned and built up an empire from the ashes.

The only thing he had was you and the Crows.

He may have acted as though he detested them but he did truly care for them. He just had an extraordinarily disconnected way of showing it and little to no tolerance of Jesper's antics.

So naturally, when you got together, he was especially overprotective and possessive. It was partly to make up for the lack of physical touch in your relationship, to show he did truly care and mainly because he couldn't help it.

Kaz often found himself surprised at the urge to bring you close and wrap an arm around your waist when he was jealous. He wasn't sure if it was because he wanted to gloat that you were his without saying it, if he felt the need to protect you or to just have a reason. A reason to touch.

Because, the truth was, Kaz always had the desire to pull you into his side or reach out to you. However, he would never give in to those thoughts.

Because he couldn't give you false hope.

Hope for a future in which he could be normal. Take your hand without shuddering, care for you with touch naturally and cup your cheek without being repulsed.

He wanted to connect: the only thing was, Kaz was so certain he would flinch and compare you to that of his past.

He was also so stiff - he didn't flirt and if he attempted to it ended quite badly for both parties involved.

Subsequently, when Kaz saw someone else flirt with you and do something he knew he couldn't, he would step in.

Unless it was Jesper. Because the root of his jealousy came from distrust, not of you, but of the person you were having a conversation with.

And he did trust Jesper. Plus the sharpshooter knew he shouldn't mess with you, even if he didn't, he would never. The reason he wouldn't was that you were the one for Kaz and Jesper had the opinion that Kaz deserved you after all he'd been through.

Inej and Nina also shared that very strong opinion and if someone disagreed, they would probably attack them brutally.

And it was a very real possibility they would collectively murder them brutally too.

They saw the way he looked at you, even before you were together and they identified it as the same look Matthias gave Nina or Jesper gave Wylan.

It was love.

Kaz's eyes always held such adoration and wonder when he saw you. The adoration, simply because you put up with his moods or rages, you barely shed a tear when he took his lashed out at you.

In fact, you stood up for yourself. Made him realise he was in the wrong.

The wonder was because you were so innocent, sometimes child-like and it wasn't just a show. He remembered when he had been bewildered and slightly concerned for your mental well-being several times.

His lips lifted just thinking of it.

Kaz came downstairs to see what the cacophony of noise and giggles was about. He stopped his descent on the stairs after he saw you and Nina pulling on wellies at the bottom.

"You know one fantastic thing about fuzzy socks?"

Jesper shook his head and asked you what you meant with a twinkle in his eyes.

"You can slide along floors with them!"

Halfway through your sentence, you had erupted into laughter again and by the end, you were almost rolling around on the floor. It was as though you had told the funniest joke known to man and the others joined in, seeing you with such mirth lifting their spirits further.

You rotated on your heel as you stood to see him standing, seemingly completely unsure of if you were mad. You giggled again.

"Where are you going?"

"Outside, duh."

"It's raining and freezing, don't be so idiotic." He was trying to keep the concern out of his voice and act as though he couldn't care less what you did.

"Uh huh, sure, but I won't be cold if..."

You trailed off as you made grabby hands at his coat and he sighed deeply. He removed it and tossed it your way, making sure to hit you slightly in the arm with it, where he knew it wouldn't really hurt.

The others gaped in confusion but you only skipped through the door, into the rain outside.

Wylan was the first to get over his shock and smiled at Kaz. In return he received a scowl but he knew it was better than an emotionless expression. It meant he was having to repress a grin, or smirk at least.

The Crows followed you out of the door, while Jesper had to be dragged along by his boyfriend, who was mumbling about how overdramatic the sharpshooter could be.

A minute later, he looked outside to see you jumping in puddles and having splash fights, running your fingertips through the water and flicking them towards others.

Kaz opened the door and stuck his head out into the rain.

"(Y/N)," he yelled and carried on when he had your attention, "Pop the coat collar up, would you? If you're going to be stupid, try not to catch a cold!"

You smiled at his concealed concern and saluted, shouting a quick, "Will do! Sir, yes Sir!" just as an army soldier would.

He ducked inside and leant against the wall as he felt his lips quirking upwards. The door blew shut with the wind and he returned to the window to observe the blissful, innocent joy that looked so beautiful painted on your features.

An example of one of the times he would invite himself to the conversation, happened as you chatted away with the bartender of the evening.

She was pretty and multitasking, cleaning glasses as she talked with you, slipping in small compliments here and there.

The thing was, you were completely oblivious to when others would throw a flirtatious remark your way. You never even thought they were doing anything except being friendly.

Kaz had realised this in the past after he had observed you deflect compliments for your eyes, smile and hair, returning the admiration.

You only wanted to make the gloomy citizens of Ketterdam have brighter days by making them feel good about themselves and you weren't trying to flirt back - only be kind.

Kaz noticed the sparkle in the girl's eyes, the slight malicious glint that revealed her intentions. He stood, grunting as he took his first step after sitting for so long and marched over.

He then took things into his own hands. He greeted her in a clearly false tone, one that mirrored how close he was to snapping. The server gulped and he smirked as she looked down.

"Hiya Kaz, we were just having a nice talk. Did you know, she thinks my hair is lovely long?"

Once more, you were not trying to flatter yourself, only telling him of what had been said.

The woman almost lurched over the bar counter to get you to hush but he had heard enough.

"Oh did she now?"

He moved his burning stare to the woman and said tauntingly, "I do agree, that my girlfriend's hair is, in fact, stunning. Now, why don't you go and serve that pigeon that looks so inviting waiting for his drink."

She opened her mouth and his voice didn't even try to cloak his loathing of her as he snarled.

"Go and do what you were paid to do."

She scurried off and your face dropped. He had been trying to be polite, knowing you had no clue of her pursuance of you. Now you had recognised the poisonous animosity in his speech, you realised she had only wanted to have a quick fling.

Kaz noticed how your shoulders slumped and the prickling of guilt started to poke at his heart. He nudged your foot with his cane and you looked up to him, your eyes swimming with unshed tears.

He walked up the stairs to his office and once you had entered behind him, he closed the door gently.

"I thought she just wanted to be friends."

You were so upset because you yearned to have someone other than the Crows, who wasn't just trying to get in your pants, to strike up a conversation with.

"I know love. One day you'll find someone who will adore you as a friend."

Your gaze was still cast downward and it was obvious you did not believe him.

"Hey, hey, look at me. Jesper loves being your friend, so do Inej and Nina. If they exist, others like them must too."

He was making sure to lock eyes with you, letting you know he was absolutely sincere and you nodded, wiped your tears and squared your shoulders.

"There she is." he said gently.

Then suddenly, you remembered how he had shifted a little before you downstairs. Maybe it was to protect you or maybe, just maybe, he had been jealous. You laughed at the thought.

"What?"

"Were you... Jealous?"

He stuttered through his next unintelligible phrase then said in return, "Who wouldn't want to keep you to themselves?"

You flushed and he smiled.

"I'm glad you're giggling again."

He was teasing you, however there was an underlying note of sincerity lining his words.

He would keep protecting you and he would keep you smiling.

[tojisveryown]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫

Ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘑𝘑𝘒 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨

Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦

Ｎｏｔｅ: 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘪𝘬𝘵𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘰𝘭

𝘧𝘵. 𝘐𝘵𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘪 𝘠𝘶𝘶𝘫𝘪, 𝘍𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘰 𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪, 𝘎𝘰𝘫𝘰 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶, 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰, 𝘐𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘛𝘰𝘨𝘦, 𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘰

𝐈𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- You saw this idea on tiktok and decided that you wanted to participate in it as well. You and your boyfriend Yuuji were always pulling pranks on each other and you thought pulling this one would get a good reaction out of him. You waited in his room for him to come back from his training with Gojo and once he came in he gave you a hug and laid himself in between your legs “Hey how was training?” you asked playing with his hair “Tiring, but thanks for waiting for me to get back.” you resisted the urge to laugh as these next words spilled out of your mouth. “Chris please go take a shower your sweat and grease just got all over my hands.” “Okay fine I’ll go take a sh- did you just call me chris?” he got up from your lap and turned to you making sure he heard you right. “No I didn’t now hurry up and take a shower, you smell.” he grabbed your wrists and pinned you down “Who’s Chris?” you stayed silent trying not to laugh, “Y/N? Tell me who Chris is or I’ll rub my sweaty armpit on you.” “NO I’M SORRY IT’S A PRANK!” nonetheless he still shoved your face into his armpit.

𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢

𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- Nobara had told you about this prank where you’d pretend to hide someone in the closet while Megumi comes in as if you were cheating on him and you both gave each other a smirk and though it’d be fun to prank Megs. Nobara was standing guard over your room and once she saw the spiky black hair from afar she signaled you to get ready, as Megumi tried to open the door Nobara kept stopping him it wasn’t until he got supper suspicious that he pushed passed her and opened your door. The first thing Megumi saw was clothes discarded on the floor, both mens and womens (every body say thanks to Yuuji for allowing you to raid his closet), he looked up at you as you were hovering over your closet door with a blanket wrapped around you. Megumi looked at you with sad eyes and left your room, you heard the door next to yours slam and you and Nobara shared the same expression as you two faced each other. Nobara knocked on his door and Megumi opened after a new knocks “What?” you knew you fucked up big time especially since he sounded like he was in a bad mood “Hey I’m sorry-” “Why would you help her cheat? Aren’t we friends?” You wanted to run into his arms and tell him it was a prank but half of you was dying from laughter “Megumi, please just go into her room and see it for yourself.” he agreed. Megumi came into your room and opened the closet door to see the bastard you were cheating with, “SURPRISE SHAWTY!!” He looked at you and realized what he got himself into and plopped himself on your bed and started mumbling about how stupid you two were.

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- You were tired of all the girls that flirted with Gojo and you were tired of him for letting them flirt. You wanted to somehow get back at him and you came up with the idea to prank him making it look like you were cheating. With the help of Nobara and Yuuji you were able to make it look like you were cheating on Gojo. The three of you made it where your shared room with Gojo looked like someone else had been there. You waited for Gojos return and when you heard the door knob open you quickly wrapped the blanket around you and sat on a pillow to make it seem like you were on top of another guy, you let out a fake moan while you were bouncing up and down waiting for Gojo to react. Instead of Gojo getting angry and lashing out he pulled out his phone and started recording “Nice try babe, you don’t have the heart to cheat on me.” You let out a sigh and plopped yourself on the shared bed “Besides where would you find someone as sexy as me mhm?”

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- The idea struck upon you when you saw Gojo come into a meeting with a hickey on his neck, you wondered what would make Nanami snap from his stoic nature and atlas you came up with the idea to plaster a fake hickey on your neck and around the area where your chest was slightly exposed. You waited for Nanami to come out the shower and while you were doing so you were preparing some snacks that the two of you would share while watching the newest episode of your favorite show. Nanami came up behind you while you were putting a sandwich together and wrapped his arms around your waist, he pulled your hair to the side and have you a kiss on the neck, “I missed you, what did you do today?” “Oh nothing I hung out with Gojo for a while since we bumped into each other at the farmers market.” he went in for another kiss, this time his hot breath met your neck instead of his lips “Is that where you got the idea to give yourself a fake hickey?” Nanami was immune to pranks especially because he grew up with Gojo. Going along with the fact that he grew up with that man whore he was able to determine a real hickey from a fake one. “Nice try love.”

𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞

𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- You and Maki were sending each other tiktoks and you came across a prank where the guy was ignoring his girlfriend and you sent it to Maki with the following text “LMAO SHOULD I DO THIS TO INUMAKI?? YOU THINK HE’LL GET MAD?” she replied with “LMAOO DO IT, HE’LL GET SO MAD IT’LL BE SO FUNNY” The next morning you and Maki walked to the fields to start training and as everyone started to gather you greeted them with a good morning, all but Inumaki. He stood there next to panda after you had passed by saying “Good morning panda!” Inumaki stood there waiting for his greeting and a kiss on the cheek but he noticed you were already on the track running next to Maki and Nobara “Did you two fight?” “Kelp?” Inumaki shrugged his shoulders and waited for the girls to finish their laps. Once he saw you nearing the end of the lap he walked towards you with a water bottle in his hand “Hey thanks for the water Yuuji!” Inumaki stood there dumbfounded, he watched as you grabbed the water from Itadori’s hand and chugged it down. For the rest of the afternoon Inumaki watched in silence as you engaged with everyone. Training was about to end meaning it was time to hit the showers to scrub off the dirt and sweat but before you could pack your things Inumaki blocked you from getting your stuff “Tuna tuna!” It was useless, you ended up getting passed him and began to pack your stuff “Talk to me... please?” your body jolted and the words “I’m sorry it was a prank!” slipped through your lips. You turned around and you were met with a fuming Toge, he began to scream out onigiri ingredients and when he saw that you were taking it lightly he began tapping his foot on the concrete floor waiting for you to finish. Wiping the tears off your eyes from laughing so much you began to apologize “I’m sorry Toge that was just too fu-” “Run laps.” 

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨

𝐈'𝐦 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤- You absolutely adored your boyfriend, and you loved how charismatic he was but you couldn’t help but love to tease him in the most outlandish ways as possible. That being said you began brainstorming a dialog for the breakup prank you wanted to pull, you almost felt bad when he came home to you with flowers in his hand. “Hey darling I missed you a little extra today so I got you these.” you gazed at him and he gave you a warm smile as he pulled you into a hug “I wanna break up.” he flinched at the sudden words and broke the hug, his hand was laying on your shoulder “What? Did I do something wrong?” You looked anywhere but his eyes “No.. it’s not that.” Choso cupped your face with his free hand “Then what’s the problem? We can fix it right?” his thumb rubbed against your cheek “I’m just not happy anymore.” “Oh.” Choso backed away at the sudden phrase that left your lips. “Okay, well um. If this is what you really want.” He gave you a smile and extended the flowers out to you “At least keep the flowers, they are for you afterall.” You reached out to grab the flowers and grabbed the luggage that played as a prop for your prank. You walked out the door leaving Choso alone. After closing the door you immediately opened it back up and saw Choso bundled up in the corner, head down in his knees and arms wrapped around his knees as he cried there quietly, the sound of the door opening made him jolt his head up and you were met with a tear stained Choso “Y/N please don’t leave me.” You ran towards him hugging him tightly as you wiped the tears off. “Shhhh it’s okay my love it was just a prank, I’m sorry it was a stupid one.” Choso smiled under your touch, unknown to you he knew it was a prank the entire time due to how light your luggage seemed, but for a brief moment he truly believed the person he loved most was unhappy with him.

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

chained, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: You ever fuck someone wearing a collar and a chain... that's attached to the hot girl with the demonic grin? No? Just Min Yoongi? In his defense, he really likes a bad bitch.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; yup, there are Marilyn Manson and Slipknot references; D/s smut (fem reader, black leather collars and a chain leash, [a lot of] choking, saliva everywhere, handjob, m-receiving oral, slight edging, hair pulling, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - rapper, sub!Yoongi x goth (also kinda his manager? lol) dom!reader; kinda PWP; Yoongi's POV

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feel like I'm hexed, yeah, that bitch bad collar on her neck and her ass real fat

Most people would say, “Nah, dude, don’t mess with girls like that.”

Most people would say, “She’s fucking scary, why the hell would you think she’s hot?”

Most people would, but Min Yoongi wasn’t most people.

“I want to play a game.”

He tilted his head. “Then let’s play a game.”

She grinned, wild hair over her left eye. “Yeah?”

The first time he met her, he was at a bar and a woman was chatting him up, engaging him in conversation he didn’t want to be in. Fuck. The only reason he came was to accompany his friends, but they were all much more extroverted than he was and had already wandered off with potentials of the night. He didn’t want a potential. He just wanted a damn shot of whiskey and then he was going to slink into a corner and pretend nobody existed.

He minimized his responses to, “Mhm” and “Yeah,” but the woman wasn’t getting the hint and the bartender was busy. Sigh.

All of a sudden, a short man with a white, mannequin-like mask appeared. The white mask was painted with black streaks. He had stringy, long black and red hair and was wearing black coveralls.

Yoongi and the woman jumped away from each other, disconcerted by the appearance of the strange, tiny man.

“Bartender! Hey, real quick, can you get my friend here a drink?”

And then, fuck.

Black leather jacket, silver hardware. Tight fitted white top, so shredded the black bra underneath was visible. Short black pleated skirt. Ripped tights. Thick black boots with chains. Yoongi felt his eyes widen, looking up and down at this curvy frame. Wild hair, lush tits, juicy thighs, an ass that could put anyone in a trance with the way those hips swayed. Dark makeup, playful grin with red-stained lips.

A black choker with at least eight-centimeter spikes.

A pure white contact lens in her left eye.

“Hey, you can’t cover your face here,” a patron interrupted. “That’s creepy.”

The small man in the mask didn’t reply. The woman in black, however, swatted a hand like she was whacking away a fly.

“He’s part of the entertainment. Buzz off.”

“Oh, yes, you’re the band’s drummer, right?” The bartender rushed over. “Sorry, sorry. What will it be?”

The masked man said nothing.

“Double shot whiskey on the rocks,” the woman replied for him. “Did I get it right this time, Hana?”

A single nod from that stringy head.

“What about you?”

Yoongi jumped, startled the woman in black leather was addressing him. She cocked her head to the confused bartender. “You’ve been standing here ignored for the past ten minutes. I noticed because I was waiting for the guys to suit up to bring Hana to the bar.” She waved her hand. “Come on. Give me your order. I got you.”

“O… Oh. Same thing.”

She nodded. “Ya heard him. And don’t just only pay attention to cute girls, bartender.”

The bartender’s cheeks flushed. “A-Ah, I apologize! I’ll have them ready right away.”

The woman sighed and shook her head, completely ignoring the chatty woman who was making eyes at Yoongi, trying to get near him again. Yoongi pretended not to notice, stepping closer to the short, creepy man. The white mask didn’t move. The woman leaned down a bit because the man was shorter than she was with her height and platform boots.

“Don’t be takin’ nothing with the whiskey now. I’m treatin’ ya,” she chuckled under her breath.

Yoongi noticed the slight satoori. It made her voice a little deep and gruff.

“Shut it.”

She snickered. “Made you talk, Hana.”

The white mask went back to being silent.

She sighed and stood back up turning her attention to Yoongi. “Sorry about my friend here. He doesn’t like talking or people. I’m trying to get him to be more personable. Is it working?”

Yoongi blinked.

“Uh.”

Damn, every time she smiled, he felt a thrill shoot up his spine. White teeth showing, pink tongue peeking out between them.

It just seemed a little psychotic, a little mischievous, and a lot sexy.

“I know it’s not working. Can’t say I didn’t try.”

The masked man might as well have been a mannequin with how still he was.

“You’re his manager?” Yoongi found himself asking.

She shrugged. “Kind of? I actually just own the studio space the band records. But I like coming to the gigs sometimes if I can. Good excuse to get a little drunk, eh? Plus, I’m trying to find musicians to rent out the other spaces.”

Fuck.

Was it his lucky day or what?

“I’m looking for a studio space to record my music, actually.”

Her eyebrows raised. “No shit? You wanna talk some business?”

Oh, they talked business to bass and drums thundering the bar.

Later, they talked about some… other things too. What could he say? Yoongi liked a bad bitch. She wore leather, she owned cluster of studio spaces – “well, they ain’t mine, they’re my dad’s, but he’s never here, he’s off gambling and chasing booty, I think” – she gave him a fair price, and she loved to suck dick.

Yoongi didn’t find out about that last bit until later.

Right now, she was clipping the end of a silver chain to the collar around his neck.

It was heavy, probably metal. The collar he was wearing was thick black leather, with a steel ring resting against his collarbones. Yoongi was pretty sure she was doing a number on him. He wore a lot of black, yeah. He liked leather jackets too. But being around her presence was messing with his head and he was pretty sure he was being influenced by her energy. He used to hate his eye shape and his dark circles, but when he saw himself in the mirror with her tangled around him, riding his dick, he found himself thinking he didn’t look so bad after all. He looked good standing with the woman with the white contact lens and the demonic grin.

Maybe he was a little crazy, but everyone was a little crazy. Yoongi wasn’t worried about something like that.

Right now, she licked her teeth with that lithe, pink tongue of hers.

The other end of the chain was connected to the collar around her neck.

“You wanna play?” she drawled.

Fuck, he loved that shit. Her voice got slightly deep and throaty when she spoke in satoori. He wasn’t sure if she noticed it or not. It must be from her father. She mentioned that she had been raised by her dad – “sporadically, he liked to travel and, by travel, I mean gamble and chase ass, although surprisingly he didn’t come back with more kids, so I guess he learned his lesson” – but she was kind of the same way.

Not the gambling bit.

He didn’t really mind it though. She didn’t try to hide anything and he encouraged her to be herself. Plus, no one was getting the treatment he got. Yoongi was pretty sure about that, because when she fucked around, she did it in public. He had to be the one to tell her to take it upstairs and go for the throat.

Alright, not the throat. The dick.

In some way, Yoongi felt that was her way of asking if he approved, because she never took it upstairs and out of his sight unless he gave her the go ahead.

Right now, her tongue extended and wiggled in the air, glossy and slick with her saliva.

He smirked, open-mouthed and with a flick of tongue at the edge of his teeth.

She gripped the chain and yanked him by the neck to her face, crashing that demonic grin to his lips.

Like an injection or a spell, it gave him a rush, the firm leather snapping against his neck, chained to her, both wearing the collars, but she was always in control, always, and he liked it like that, liked the way she traced his lips with her powerful tongue, her saliva his aphrodisiac, before she captured his lips and rolled her body into his lap, skin to skin, moving like a snake, his gasp against her devouring mouth, her bare ass sliding on his thigh, fuck, so sexy, so soft, so bouncy, one hand on his face and another on his shoulder, fingers spread out and tendons flexing.

He liked to say she was the angel that held up her blinding halo with devil horns.

She yanked on the chain and Yoongi sucked in a breath, closing one eye as she licked his cheek, ending with a kiss on his brow. Cold air chilled his wet skin, making him shiver.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ hot, Yoongi.”

Pretty sure neither of them believed in a god but it got the point across.

He raised his hand and she smacked his wrist down, pinning it to the bed.

“Nuh uh.”

Yoongi wasn’t really expecting her to let him.

He raised his other hand. It was immediately swatted down onto the bed, her eyebrow cocking.

“Naughty, naughty.”

He cocked an eyebrow back, defying.

She leaned down and snatched the chain in her mouth, tugging on it with teeth and neck, narrowing her eyes. The white contact lens on her left eye gleamed under her lashes. She always wore it except right before sleeping. He once asked her why and she had shrugged.

“Mental security, I guess.”

Now, she growled like an animal.

“Down.”

She looked like she was about to headbutt him. He wouldn’t put it past her.

He lowered himself slowly, her mouth holding the chain taut until he was laying on the bed. She grinned, pleased at his obedience. Yoongi was quite sure that she was probably the closest being to a succubus that he would ever encounter with the violent thrill of arousal she was giving him with those plush lips and white teeth around the silver chain, pink tongue circling around the metal to tease him.

Maybe he was the crazy one for being turned on by it.

She dropped the chain on his chest. He flinched, the wet, heavy metal thudding onto his sternum, right against his pounding heartbeat. She rubbed her thigh against his balls and hardening cock, raising her head, chain following, higher, higher, letting go of his hands, arching her back, tits up, until it was fully taut between his neck and hers, the sides of the collars forcefully digging into his neck and hers. Yoongi did not lift his head from the bed to reduce the tension. Her devilish smile widened. A chain tug-of-war between collar to collar, both of them choking the other.

She lifted her hand and licked her palm, saturating it with saliva.

She reached down and wrapped her long fingers around his stiff length.

Didn’t say he could touch her though, so Yoongi didn’t.

“Think you can last longer than last time?”

He clenched his jaw. “Maybe.”

She pulled harder and he locked his neck and shoulders, clutching the sheets with a sharp gasp, pleasure shooting up his core, firm, strong strokes up and down his cock, fuck, fuck, every damn time, that second of cold as her saliva soaked his skin and then it warmed up fast to hot, slippery ecstasy, hard and getting harder, his pre-cum mixing with her saliva, staring at her hard nipples and juicy hips, knees around one of his thighs, shaking her ass when she noticed him looking, changing the pace, addicted to the feeling of her hands. He could feel the bones and the hard muscle of her grip and, sure, that didn’t sound sexy, but it felt incredible, adding stimulation in that inescapable hold and paired with slickness, choking his cock slightly and he craved every second of it, thighs tense and hard, growling in his throat as he dug his head into the mattress, pulling the chain for all it was worth, lightheaded now, the leather cutting in, probably leaving a mark, locking eyes with mischievous orbs and an impish smirk, the sides of her collar also cutting into the sides of her neck, choking herself as she was choking him while jacking him off.

Black haze threatened the edges of his vision.

He was going to pass out or cum. Yoongi didn’t care which happened first.

“F… Fuck!”

Yoongi snapped his jaw shut and shot up her forearm and down his length, strained groan of her name leaking past his teeth, bolts of pleasure invading his nerves all the way up to his scalp, blossoming into an erotic haze. She snapped her head forward. Oxygen flooded his brain, his jaw going slack with a moan, his eyes rolling back, high so high his whole body shuddered, barely registering her movement, hearing the lewd slurps of her drinking up his cum.

Wet.

Hot.

“Shit!”

Her mouth enveloped his twitching length, burying it deep into her throat, slathering tongue and satisfied hiss, chain clinking against his stomach and hitting his trembling balls, twisting her head so the chain wouldn’t cause any damage to them as she began to suck, flashes of tongue flickering out of the edges of those plush lips, grazing his crotch and scrotum, pointedly staring at him with an arched eyebrow.

She bounced her hips when she noticed him looking, shaking her ass as she sucked his dick.

Yoongi grinned.

His vision was barely focusing, trying to recover from orgasm in the midst of the intoxicating pleasure of her soft and tight mouth, tongue rubbing under the head of his cock, causing it to jerk and swell in the back of her throat and then she thrust it all the way back in there, taking him impossibly deep, sinfully moaning around his cock, vibrating it with lust. He glanced at her hands, fingers spread out and joints locked, tendons flexed, pointed black fingernails clawing into the sheets.

The heat flaring over his abdomen and hips was rising to his limit once more.

Yoongi panted her name, hoarse and breathless, realizing his Daegu satoori was suddenly more prominent in his disheveled state.

“I’m gonna cum–”

She popped her mouth off his cock and he snapped his teeth, snarling.

“You bitch.”

She grinned, wiggling her tongue, thick plops of saliva dripping down and hitting his flinching hips and throbbing cock, the head an angry purple-red from being so roughly stimulated after orgasm. The white contact gleamed alongside the devious glint in her right eye, black pupils blown out, a little psychotic, a little mischievous, and a lot sexy.

It didn’t matter who was on top because she knew she was always on top.

To be clear, Yoongi didn’t take shit from anyone without a fight. It got him in trouble sometimes, but this particular brand was trouble was the kind he liked. She gave him a long period of two seconds to roll the condom down before tangling one hand in the metal chain and the other in his black hair, pulling both in opposite directions. He hissed dangerously, plunging his hard cock into the wet, waiting heat, scorched by her roughness and his desire, one of her legs on his shoulder and the other around his waist, smacking their bodies together with violent force.

The tip of her tongue traced her teeth, grinning demonically.

“Come on, you said you were gonna play the game with me, Yoongi,” she chuckled, naughtily mocking him, voice deep and rough from her satoori.

“Let’s see if you can keep up,” he growled in kind, low and gravelly.

She pulled on the collar much harder than his hair, but both were equally arousing, prickling pain on his scalp and circulation cut short once again, brief flashes of oxygen bleeding through with his aggressive thrusts, the excess chain knocking against her collarbones, just another layer of sound along with slapping hips and squelching juices, her velvet walls clenching around him with every descent, not going fast so he could last, burying deep and hitting her hard. She winced, guttural growl at the base of her throat and the side of his lips quirked up.

“Too much?” he taunted.

“I’ll tell you when it’s too much,” she grunted, jerking her hips up and brutally squeezing the head deep inside.

“Fuck…”

He knew she wouldn’t let him do anything she didn’t want, so he kept going, her wrist flicking up with every thrust, leather collar snapping into his skin, thinning his breath to gasps at the stinging pain, the hand in his hair releasing him, messy black strands invading his vision, but he had no time to complain, groaning as her nails dug into his back and dragged up, inflamed hot lines that shot into his system and fed his adrenaline. His fists bunched the sheets, locking his shoulders, clenching his jaw, flexing his neck, and now he was being choked again, consistently this time, oxygen thinning out once more, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Her smile sent thrills up his spine and they split at the base of his head, tendrils of vicious desire numbing all sensations except lust, gluttonous for the pain that nourished more pleasure, greedy for everything she forced him to take, too prideful to ask her to loosen her hold, desperate not to give in to her wrath, usually slothful but now using every fiber of his strength to push himself to the limit, high getting higher knowing that anyone would be envious of how good he got it from that fiendish playful grin and hot delicious body under him, collared together in joined sin.

She let out a low moan, basking in him, feeding his need to satisfy hers.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, Yoongi.”

He managed to get out half of a breath, staring into those irises, one real, one covered in white.

“Fuck, your voice gets me off every time,” he hissed.

He slammed his hips down and she clamped around his entire length, releasing the chain, both of their heads tipping back, his in the air and hers into the pillows, moans in unison as he shot into the condom and she released onto his twitching length and skin, coating him with slickness. The scent of sex permeated the air, his previous orgasm soaked into the sheets already and hers smearing with it as their hips descended, his throbbing cock pulsed by her flinching walls, her thighs tense around his waist and his hard ones against her ass, making sure to lean forward so he didn’t fall out, savoring every second of their joined bodies.

The hotel room was certainly getting some important use.

Yoongi remembered he had been annoyed when she said he should rent one since the potential gig was rather far away and transportation so late at night was going to be a bitch. He almost didn’t do it, but she rolled her eyes and booked it anyway, triumphant when he sold out the venue. Not a huge venue, but bigger than he had ever performed before.

He still said she had to make it up to him for making him travel farther than he originally wanted.

As usual, Yoongi was not disappointed.

“Housekeeping is gonna be pissed,” she chuckled. “Smells like sex.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“How’s your throat?”

“Pretty sure rapping strains the inside of my throat, not the outside.”

She chuckled. “Now you hurt all over.”

“Good.”

Yoongi closed the distance and kissed that smirk, metal chain sandwiched between their hot, sweaty skin, the steel rings of the black leather collars clinking against each other.

--

masterpost

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the lyrics in the beginning are from hot demon b!tches near u!! by CORPSE ft night lovell