#I warned y'all that this thing was crack and had more holes in it than swiss cheese.

[derxwnakapsyla]

Derxwna's Insane Ramblings - The Hakurei God "Headcanon"

So, this is the "Headcanon" I've come up with in regards to the identity of the Hakurei God. It utilizes some of the concepts that have been brought up in Touhou media. Not a whole lot, but there is one key concept that I've latched onto as a sort of "crux" for this insane concept.

I will warn you now: this has holes in it. In no way is this a stable "theory". It's the product of coming up with how I wanted to handle certain aspects of Touhoumon Asteria's story to make it less... depressing. And also to avoid a specific trope that the old draft made. Anyway!

By the time this headcanon takes place, Maribel is experimenting with the abilities she showcased during Trojan Green Asteroid, and they have reached a point where she can more consciously manipulate boundaries. Renko and Maribel take frequent adventures through her use of these abilities. It isn't perfect though, and this is reflected as such on one adventure where Maribel ends up, albeit unintentionally, manipulating the boundaries between past and present, leaving both her and Renko stranded an indeterminate time in the past, long before modern era.

The two of them eventually come across a shrine, and are taken in by the head priest of said shrine. For free room and board, Renko and Maribel offer to assist around the shrine, lending aid where they can. While this is going on, Maribel continues to practice with her own powers.

Both Renko and Maribel are trained in the practice of being shrine maidens for the shrine they were living at, offering services in place of the head priest of the shrine. People took a shine toward Renko the most, as she was able to help them with her modern knowledge, which people of this era considered to be "miracles". In turn, the amount of faith they were pouring into Renko specifically began to change her from a normal human into an Arahitogami- a Living God.

Maribel's experimentations with her abilities also began to warp her from being a normal human. Traditionally, she would be referred to as a "Magician". But a human who becomes a magician is just one step removed from losing their humanity entirely and becoming something else- in her specific case, a Youkai.

(I think you're starting to see where this is all going.)

Both Renko and Maribel noticed that, while the head priest and their children were getting older, they themselves were not. They did not age any further, did not look any older. Time effectively stopped for the both of them. Both had transcended their humanity, in very different ways. Renko, becoming effectively the de-facto god of the shrine they were staying at, and Maribel, who separated herself from her humanity and became a Youkai with the ability to manipulate boundaries.

The two of them knew that there was no way their future-past selves could learn about this- they themselves didn't know after all. Using the newfound control of her powers, Maribel manipulated the boundary between the Known and Unknown to completely erase hers and Renko's name from history. In order to seal their fate, Maribel adopted a new name- Yukari Yakumo.

Eventually, the shrine the two of them stayed at was merged with another clan when the priests from one married into another family. A clan of powerful Youkai Hunters, with the surname "Hakurei". The shrine was then renamed to the Hakurei Shrine, with its patron, god, a girl flung far from her time, residing in the shadows. And a Youkai, someone who should be vehemently opposed to the concept of Youkai Hunters, acting as its guardian, offering to train its Priests and Priestesses.

BUT THATS JUST A THEORY

A GAME THEORY

THANKS FOR READING

#Touhou #maribel hearn #renko usami #yukari yakumo #Crack Headcanon #I warned y'all that this thing was crack and had more holes in it than swiss cheese. #But hey dont take my word for it #see for yourself

[just-jordie-things]

kiss cam surprise - gojo satoru

word count: 2.8k warnings: none! :) summary: when (y/n) kisses shoko during a kiss cam at a baseball game, satoru gets a little ~jealous~ this is half fluff half crack tbh lol a/n: ok i don't take fic requests but someone dropped this in my ask box awhile ago and it resurfaced in my mind so... ur a lucky duck. also! if u like kiss cam fics y'all should check out kiss cam! by @naosaki <3 one of my fav megumi fics <3 ___

For being at an event that they couldn’t care less about, Shoko and (y/n) had been on their best behavior for the entirety of the baseball game.  Satoru and Suguru had been so excited to gift the tickets to the girls so they could join them in a fun outing, that they’d tried their best to accept the offer graciously.

Even though neither of them had any interest in going.  It was obvious when the tickets were presented to them, from the awkward smiles they’d worn to the way their eyes shifted towards one another as if to make sure the other was thinking the same thing- why wouldn’t they just go on their own? 

Shoko and (y/n) would’ve happily spent the day doing their own thing had Satoru and Suguru gone to the game just the two of them.  Maybe some light shopping, or maybe they’d hole up in one of their rooms and eat junk and watch romcoms all day.  Either way… any activity would have been more entertaining to them than this.

They barely even knew the rules of the game, only cheering when the guys did, and sharing knowing looks when they tried not to laugh at just how uninterested they were.

Still, they did their best to participate.  Both glad in the same colors of the cheap merch Satoru and Suguru had treated them to.  (y/n) was in a jersey too big for her that hung off her body awkwardly, and Shoko wore a hat with a bill that wouldn’t stop dipping over her eyes, but they didn’t complain.  They were very good sports for their friends, only sneaking off for a smoke break one time.  They even made a few trips for snacks and drinks so that Suguru and Satoru wouldn’t miss any of the games.  Sure, maybe they were trying to stretch their legs and ease the ache in their butts from the uncomfortable plastic seats, but they had the right intentions!

“This is fun, right?” 

When (y/n) turned to him, Satoru was beaming from ear to ear.  His sunglasses were slipping down his nose due to the way his ball cap bumped into them, and his bright eyes seemed to hold even more light from his obvious joy.

She couldn’t lie to him if she wanted to.  It was too cute to see him this excited just from sharing the experience with his friends.  He’d had his arm draped over the back of her seat for the majority of the game, and whenever his team got the upper hand, he’d eagerly tap or shake at her shoulder to involve her in the hype.  (y/n) was grateful for the que to pay closer attention to what was happening, but she did fluster and blush every time he’d touch her.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who would knowingly knock her elbow from her other side, a small smirk on her face when (y/n) would peek at her from the corner of her eye.  She tried to ignore the silent teasing, but after a while it got hard with how much it was happening.

With a smile and a nod of her head, Satoru’s expression lit up even more.  “Yeah, I’m actually having a really great time,” She said.  It didn’t matter that she was more interested in all the attention he’d been giving her than the great seats they had for the game.  He didn’t need to know that part.  “We should do this more often” She adds before thinking.

Once again, Shoko’s elbow was bumping into hers, and this time a less-than-discreet snort could be heard.  (y/n) sent her elbow back into hers in retaliation, silently scolding her for eavesdropping.

“Yeah?” Satoru fixes his cap so that he can push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose.  “Tickets weren’t that expensive, we could go to more games this season, if you want?” He suggests.

Bullshit, she thinks with a smile telling him that’s exactly what she was thinking.  Nothing was expensive to the Gojo Satoru.

“Yeah, maybe” She says without much commitment.

Going to baseball games just the two of them? The idea had her heart soaring.  Having to sit through a game that could take more than three hours was less than ideal.

Soon enough a break in the game came, the announcers hyping up the crowd with some silly chants and trivia on the big screen.  (y/n) found herself slumping down into her seat, aimlessly tapping around on her phone to pass the time.  She hadn’t been paying enough attention to notice the change in game on the big screen, that is until there was a hand smacking at her shoulder again.

Looking up, she’d almost expected to see the game in motion again.  Satoru had only been tapping at her like that when an exciting play was in action.  However this time, he’s pointing up at the screen.

She gapes when she sees that she’s displayed on the screen.  The camera has a wide angle that includes Shoko and Satoru on either side of her, the words Kiss Cam spelled out in pink cursive above them.  It’s complete with lipstick stains and sparkles for dramatic touch.

“Oh my god” She mumbles, hoping that her blush is undetectable by the camera, seeing as her face felt scorching hot from embarrassment.

The longer the camera is focused on her, the rowdier the crowd around her becomes.  Eagerly chanting ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ like a bunch of teenagers at their first house party.

Satoru is grinning so hard his face hurts.  This was like a dream come true.  The easiest excuse in all of history to get a kiss from the girl he’s had a crush on since he was fifteen was just presented to him on a silver platter- and the crowd’s cheering only spurred him on further.

Even Suguru is giving him a smirk and a nod of approval.  He’d heard more earfuls than most about the ins and outs of Satoru’s feelings for (y/n).  Although on occasion, Shoko or Nanami were on the receiving end of his lovesick rambling.

His heart is about to burst out of his chest when he turns to (y/n).  His smile is starting to hurt and for a second he realizes he’s going to have to relax to actually kiss her.

“Are you okay with-?” 

The question barely comes out before he’s cut short.

(y/n) had already turned away from him, swiveled in her seat to face Shoko.  It’s like he’s watching it happen in slow motion.

They both giggle at their idea, and (y/n) takes off Shoko’s hat while she’s quickly tucking her hair behind her ears to clear her face.  And then time goes back to normal and all too quickly, Satoru watches as they lean towards each other to share a kiss.

It’s just a peck, so swift and chaste it’s over as soon as it happens.  The crowd hollers and then are just as quickly getting excited over the next unsuspecting pair on camera.

(y/n) and Shoko laugh a bit more before sitting back in their seats, going back to their phones and striking up conversation about some anime they’d been interested in.  Both, or at least (y/n), completely oblivious to the offended gape on Satoru’s face.

That was totally his kiss, after all! It was his perfect moment to finally take things to the next level with his long time friend that he’d harbored a crush on.

To make matters worse, Shoko wasn’t as innocent as she was pretending to be, sending a smirk his way when (y/n) was too focused on her phone.  He scowled back at her.  She knew about his crush! She knew he was going to go for that kiss!

With a huff, he stood up from his seat and made his way out of the stands.  He needed a bottle of water, or a snack, or just some damn space away from his so-called friend that was teasing him for snatching his kiss.

Satoru leaving so suddenly finally perked (y/n’s) attention.  He was gone too fast for her to call after him, but she worriedly watched him scale the steps with ease as he headed towards the hall of vendors.  She locked eyes with Satoru, raising a brow in silent question.

“He’s just being pouty,” Suguru replied casually, shrugging his shoulders before turning back towards the field.  “You wanna go after him? Be my guest” 

(y/n) sighed, turning the other direction towards Shoko.

“What’s he so pressed about?” She mutters.  “What even happened?” 

Shoko rolls her eyes, a lazy grin stretching on her lips.

“I dunno,” She says in a teasingly melodic tone of voice, suggesting she knew exactly what set their friend off.  “Maybe pluck up some courage and go ask him?” 

With another sigh of defeat, (y/n) slumped back into her seat, her thumbnail wedged between her teeth as she mulled over the idea.  A nervous flutter settled in her chest, a persistent buzz of confusion and anxiety distracting her even more so from the game starting up again.

When she suddenly shot out of her seat, muttering some excuse about needing to stretch her legs before she raced up the stairs in the direction she’d seen Satoru head off towards.

Two sets of eyes watched her as she hurried off.  Suguru and Shoko locked eyes once she was out of sight, both of them snickering between themselves.  It didn’t exactly take an active imagination to know exactly what was coming next. 

To her surprise, (y/n) found Satoru as soon as she left the stands.  Moping around the upper part of the arena with a half-empty bag of cotton candy.  She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, effectively getting herself caught by him.

“Why’re you up here eating your feelings?” (y/n) speaks first, eyes narrowed inquisitively.  Satoru scoffs as she approaches him, snatching a piece of the pink sweet right out of his hands.

“I’m not eating my feelings” He replies unconvincingly, digging the hole deeper as he shoves a rather large piece of cotton candy into his mouth.

(y/n) rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face is impossible to hide.

“Sure,” She remarks.  “You’re totally not pouting right now.  C’mon just fess up.  What’s wrong?”

“I’m not pouting.  My friend betrayed me, I think I’m right in being upset about that?” It’s a rhetorical question, followed by another shove of cotton candy into his mouth.

(y/n) frowns.

“Betrayed you?” She repeats.  “Did I miss something? Who betrayed you?” 

Satoru groaned, tossing the remainder of his cotton candy into the trash dramatically.  (y/n) had to resist the urge to laugh, not understanding where this whole little tantrum came from.

“Shoko! Obviously! I mean she knew that that kiss was-!” 

He stops mid sentence, realizing where this outburst was going to lead him if he didn’t relax and go back to his usual suave demeanor.  (y/n) shook her head in confusion, her brows pinching together.

“Was what?” She asked, a breathless laugh escaping her.  “Meaningless? A joke between friends?” She suggested.  “You’re mad about a kiss?” 

“Of course I’m mad-! Well, I- I guess not mad, I’m not mad at her,” He stammered over his words, not knowing how exactly to explain the complicated feelings.

(y/n) tried to be patient while he stammered and struggled to make himself clear.  Mostly because she was partially amused by the whole thing.  Satoru prided himself in being what he called a smooth-talker, and while normally she’d laugh at him for that, it was a shock to see him behave the total opposite right in front of her.

“But that wasn’t exactly fair, I mean, she was just trying to rile me up.  And- like- yeah, that’s what we usually do, we pick on each other but that just- that just wasn’t fair! That was my kiss and she knew it! And she just-” 

“What do you mean ‘your kiss’?” 

Finally Satoru had been rendered speechless, his mouth still hanging open mid rant, jaw slacking a bit as he realized he’d gotten carried away.  (y/n’s) expression almost mirrors his, her eyes wide and lips parted, even as she holds her breath and waits for him to clarify.

But he’s completely frozen in front of her.

“Satoru,” She waves her hand in front of his face, trying to bring him back to reality.  “What did you mean ‘your kiss’?” She repeats, shaking her head at him.

“I- I just… I meant that-” 

Words are spilling out of his mouth without direction, without knowing what the hell the right thing to say was.  He’d known (y/n) for two years now, and in all of that time he’d been pretty proud of the persona he’d built up to be sure that he was always the cool one, the guy she could rely on to be smooth and popular.  He felt pathetic now, letting his own secrets slip and stuttering over himself like an idiot.

The corners of (y/n’s) lips twitched into a smile the longer he flustered over who-knows-what.  It catches his attention when she unintentionally lets out a little laugh.

“Sorry,” She apologizes right away.  “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you.  I just… are you trying to say that you wanted me to kiss you? For the cam game?” 

She tries not to sound so hopeful that it comes across desperate, but the mere idea that Satoru had wanted a kiss from her had her chest thrumming with butterflies.

Satoru’s throat feels dry, and suddenly her gaze feels like a spotlight.  The intensity has the hair on the back of his neck standing up.  He pulls the hat off his head to run a hand through his hair to relieve the heat.

“Well… yeah,” He admits, sounding more bashful than she ever would have thought he was capable of.  Her small smile turned a little brighter, and he tried to get his voice back.  “Not that I need a silly game to kiss you, obviously-” 

“Obviously” She repeats the word fondly, giving him a small nod.

“But- s-still, the kiss cam, would’ve been… fun” He admits sheepishly.  She giggles, nodding her head again.

“Well, it was fun, for the record,” She teases, earning a roll of his eyes from behind his shades.  She steps closer to him then, a tilt in her head as she takes in the obvious nerves written on his face.  “But if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked” 

“I was going to,” He argued, his hands moving about erratically.  “It's not my fault Shoko beat me to it!” 

She giggled at his drama, reaching out and grabbing his hands as they flew around, still laughing as he froze up again from the sudden touch.

“You know, it didn’t exactly mean anything when Shoko did it,” She suggested.  “I know there’s not any cameras… but…” 

Satoru raised a brow.

“(y/l/n) (y/n),” He gasped dramatically, “Are you asking me to kiss you?” 

Her cheeks tint pink as she bites back her smile, giving him a small nod of her head.  He smiles back at her, pulling his hands out of hers and dropping his hat so he could lay them across her jaw, tilting her head upwards so he didn’t have to lean down as far to reach her.  

She doesn’t wait a second longer for him, closing her eyes and leaning up on the tips of her toes so she could press her lips against his.  Satoru’s quick to reciprocate, his fingers flexing against her skin, holding on as tight as he can without hurting her as he deepens the kiss right away.  She has to grab him by the shoulders to keep herself balanced.

His lips are soft, and taste sugary like the cotton candy he’d been eating.  She’d always thought he’d taste a little bit like sugar, what with how much of it he consumes.  It makes her smile to know first hand.

When they break the kiss, he steals one more quick peck from her, grinning with excitement before he pulls away so he can pick up his forgotten hat from the ground.

“Feel better now?” She teases as he slings his arm around her shoulder to head back towards their seats.

“Mhm,” He hums, pulling his cap over her head and smiling as it slips down her forehead.  He pokes it upwards with his index finger, then pokes the tip of her nose.  “But next game I bring you to, I get the kiss cam kiss, alright?” 

There’s a gleam in her eye and a blush on her face as she leans into him, matching his steps as they head down the stairs to their seats.  As shameless as ever, she can’t help but tease him.

“Then sit on my left next time” ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru brainrpt #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo imagine #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader fluff #gojo satoru friends to lovers

[its-vannah]

The Great War | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: Y'all, I'm a member of the Rhaenyra support club and I'm not afraid to show it. She's such a good mother-in-law in this one.

Warnings: Childbirth, pregnancy, war

Midnights Masterlist

Jace had been gone for nearly three months defending his mother's right to the throne. And as much as you admired his determination to defeat the greens and secure Rhaenyra's crown, you couldn't help but feel left behind.

Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair

You were anxiously awaiting his return, running your hand over your swollen stomach, praying to the Gods that he'd be back for the babe's birth.

That was the night I nearly lost you

He had already escaped capture once, narrowly making it out of the palace with his life. When you had heard the news that he had almost died trying to escape, your heart dropped. No part of this war was safe, none of it easy.

There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair

As much as you knew Jace was doing the right thing at the forefront of the war, you selfishly wished that he would just come home.

Always remember

After pacing your chambers for what felt like eternity, you sat on the edge of the mattress, staring a hole into Jace's side of bed. If you looked hard enough, you could still see the imprint his body made from sleeping there for so long.

I vowed not to cry anymore

Blinking away the tears, you took a deep breath. The Maester had told you to take it easy, especially with all the stress you were ensuring as of late. He warned you that if you weren't more careful, you could lose the babe.

Spineless in my tomb of silence

Sitting in silence, you pressed your hand onto your stomach. Your eyes fluttered shut, and a small smile came to your face. He'll be home soon, you told yourself, He has to.

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

But when you opened your eyes, you felt more alone than ever.

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

When you woke up a few days later with intenss pain in your abdomen, you knew something was wrong.

Broken and blue, so I called off the troops

You winced as you sat up in bed, clutching your stomach as you screamed for the Maester.

Screamin' from the crypt

It didn't take long for one of your handmaiden's to hear your cries for help, dragging the Maester in behind her as fast as she could.

He took one look at you and knew: you had gone into labor.

The Maester gave you a knowing look, an apologetic smile on his face. Looking up at him, you shook your head, "I can't, not without him."

"You must, Princess," He said, "Your life depends on it."

Your face fell, tears beginning to form in your eyes as your voice cracked, "I can't do this alone."

It was in that moment that the door opened, a woman with long silver hair stepping into your chambers, searching the room until she spotted you.

"My Queen," The Maester bowed in between grabbing towels and linnens to prepare for the birth, "I'm not sure this is the best time to see the Princess."

Rhaenyra turned to face him, continuing to make her way to your side, "I'm here in my son's place, if Princess Y/N will have me."

Maybe it was her

Your heart melted open seeing her, and you nodded, "Stay, please."

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

She sat down beside you, brushing the hair out of your face, "I came as soon as I heard, Y/N. I know what it's like to be alone during birth. I don't wish the feeling upon anyone."

Nodding, you grit your teeth, crying out in pain.

The Queen took your hand, "Take deep breaths, my dear. It'll all be over soon."

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

My knuckles were bruised like violets

The labor lasted forever. Or, that's how it felt to you. Once you stared pushing, you were gripping the headboard so hard, you felt your fingers going numb.

My hand was the one you reached for

But nothing had prepared you for the pain you'd experience when you began pushing. Beads of sweat were running down your face as you squeezed Rhaenyra's hand.

To that bloodshed, crimson clover

Nearly an hour and a half later, you gave one last final push.

Uh-huh, the worst was over

Falling back onto the pillows, your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath. But all of that went away when your newborn babe was placed upon your chest, it's soft cries echoing throughout your chambers.

"It's a boy, my princess," The Maester said as he began cleaning you up, "The Prince will most certainly be happy."

I would always be yours

Looking down at your son, you couldn't help but smile, noticing the similarities between him and your husband. They had the same eyes and nose, same lips. In an instant, you realized you loved him more than anything.

Rhaenyra gazed down at her grandson, stroking his small hand with one of her fingers, "He really Jace, doesn't he?"

You nodded, "He does, your grace."

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N. Truly," She said, "I hope he'll return to Dragonstone soon. He has plenty of reason to, after all."

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

After three days, you received word that Jace had defeated the greens in the northern region—a great win for the blacks.

In honor of his victory, he flew home immediately, not wanting to wait another second to meet his son.

Uh-huh, the burning embers

As soon as your chamber doors opened and you saw him step inside, your heart leapt.

I really thought I lost you

Even though you knew he had survived the battle, a small part of you still prepared for the worst. You had toyed with the idea that you had been misinformed, or that he could be hurt on the flight back.

You said I have to trust more freely

But your constant thoughts and questions were put to rest when you saw him.

You lay in bed, your son asleep on your chest after a feeding.

Jace crossed the room, a wide smile on his face as he leaned over the bed, pressing a kiss to your lips.

Pulling away, he pressed another kiss to your temple, "I'm sorry I missed it, my love. I would've done anything to have been here."

'Cause we survived the Great War

You gave him a reassuring smile, "You're here now, that's all that matters. You survived like you promised."

He nodded, looking down at his son, "He favors you, you know?"

"Really?" You questioned, "I believe he looks more like you."

Jace tilt his head, "He has your skin tone, the color of your hair, and the shape of your face."

Looking down at your son, you nodded your head, "Yes, but he has your eyes, nose, and mouth."

With a sigh, Jace agreed, "I suppose he looks like the both of us. But it seems he got my brother's hair."

A soft smile spread across your face upon thinking about Lucerys, "He'll be honored to share something of his Uncle's."

"So, does he have a name?"

You shook your head, "I was waiting for you to return."

Jace bit his bottom lip, "I had an idea, if you're up for it."

"Of course."

"I've had three father figures in my life, as you know. My father, Laenor, my mother's husband, Daemon, and the late Harwin Strong," He explained, "I wanted to honor each of them."

"So what name do you propose?"

He sighed, "That's the problem. I'm not sure how to do it."

So I justified it

"Well, you could take a bit from each of their names," You suggested, "It doesn't have to be their first name. But their last, too."

Jace contemplated it, "Vaemin?"

And maybe it was ego swinging

"You want to name your son Vaemin Velaryon?" You quirked a brow.

He shook his head, "Shall we think of something else?"

It turned into something bigger

"I like Saenor," You said, "It takes the S from the Strong name, the ae from Daemon, and the final three letters from Laenor."

"Saenor Velaryon," Jace repeated, "I believe our son has a name."

You gazed down at your sleeping son, adjusting yourself so you could gently pass him to Jace to hold.

Looked up at me with honor and truth

He took him in his arms, "Saenor Velaryon, first of his name, the future King of Westeros."

The love Jace already had for his son was beyond measurable, as was your love for the two of them. A twinkle in his eye as he rocked Saenor slowly in his arms, you caught his gaze.

I vowed I would always be yours

Smiling up at him, you leaned against his side. For the first time in months, your family was together again.

#fanfiction #jacerys targaryen #jacerys x reader #jacerys velaryon #jace velaryon #jace velaryon x reader #jace valaryon x reader #jace strong #jace targaryen #jacerys #jacerys valeryon x reader #jacerys strong #jacerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys headcanon #jacaerys strong #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #hotd fic #hotd x reader #hotd #hotd season 1 #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon #midnights #the great war midnights

[lamnwar]

KNB boys getting caught with their s/o? Specifically Kagami, Kise and Aomine.

getting caught doing what hm? 🤨 jk jk!! that's a very fun request I really enjoyed writing these hcs so thanks for the request babe 💕💕 (also sorry took me so long but coming from me are we surprised lmao)

MDNI 18+

GETTING CAUGHT // KNB Headcanons

Context: what if you and your boyfriend get caught in action, huh? All characters are aged-up for plot purposes (18+).

Pairings: Kagami + Kise + Aomine x gn! Reader

Warnings: nsfw (obviously 😭)! mention of sex (penetrative and oral), exhibitionism, public sex (kinda), more crack than sexy tbh but still!

KAGAMI

Ok first, let's preface by saying that it really is not like Taiga to take the risk of having sex when he knows you guys might get caught

He really tries his best to conceal his needs till you can find a place with enough intimacy to proceed

But sometimes, he really can't help it, you know?

And it's kinda on you for tempting him too! You know the guy gets riled up easily so maybe you did it on purpose now... didn't you?

(In other words, it's a 100% your fault oops)

Anyways, long story short, you got him so turned on that he had no choice but to drag you to the closest room with the very clear intent of being burried deep inside you

He's midway through restlessly thrusting into your tight little hole and he's so lost on the feeling that he doesn't even realize how loud the both of you are

There could be a whole party going down, y'all would still be heard

And it doesn't take long for someone to walk in on you bend forward, Kagami's fat cock drilling into you with so much fervour

Neither of you realizes that someone's there till they make themselves heard

A string of "oh my fucking god, I'm so sorry!!" getting the both of you to look at the door with wide eyes

And Kagami is so stunned on the moment to even think

Under the surprise, his first reflex is to hide his dick completely inside you, getting a surprised yelp out of your mouth

And when it hits that you guys got caught, he goes flushed red

Given that the person catching you isn't a perv, they close the door rapidly after but Kagami is still under total shock

He doesn't move for a while, and you have to bring him back to Earth

So here you are, Taiga's dick deep in your guts, trying to move to get him to react or something

"Uh... Taiga? What-"

When he finally snaps out of it, he hurrily gets out of you, quite to your displeasure though

And it's when you grab him and pull him back to you that he realizes that you have no intention to stop, despite getting caught

"They already know anyways, doesn't change a thing"

KISE

Definitely the one that got you in that situation in the first place

LISTEN there's no way he's not gonna use his charms to get you to follow him in his ministrations

So he just had to bat his pretty eyelashes and tell you the right words for you to accept the position you're currently in

Meaning split in half by Kise, as he lets out the prettiest moans ever, like there's not a whole crowd on the over side of the wall

It doesn't take long for people to notice what you two are doing

But that doesn't stop Kise, oh no haha

He's a showman of sorts, so it doesn't bother him that to the surrounding, it is clear as day that he's fucking you senseless

Only when someone actually shows up to tell you to stop does he care

And not because he minds being seen in such position

Mainly because you seem very embarrassed that you've got caught

Kise would argue that you are at your hottest when your face's flushed, hair disheveled, body contorsioned to accomodate him in between your thighs, but that's Kise's very biased opinion

To a stranger, it's a rather scandalous sight so it's very likely that you'll hate being in such predicament

Lucky for you, Kise talks the way out of trouble for the two of you

But you still urge him to leave the place and go to somewhere we're it's actually acceptable to have sex

(He loves you so much and is so needy for you though, he can't even stand the drive back home, he'll go back deep into you in the car itself <3)

AOMINE

Alright for this one, if you're wondering how you ended up having public sex, the answer is rather simple

Daiki and you are just super horny and can't keep it in your pants (sorry 😔)

It's really in the heat of the moment y'all figured that nothing mattered

Not even the fact that you're giving him head in a very public space

He's just so tempting, you know!!

And he's been looking at your lips for the past hour, so you should have known that he'd end up begging for you to suck his dick

So you just found the first place where you could get on your knees and didn't hesitate twice before getting him out of his pants

Now here you are, sloppily giving him the best head of his life with a bunch of strangers around

I'd like to say that neither of you are exhibitionist but this situation is somewhat super hot

(Again, y'all are just super horny)

Anyways, doesn't take long for you two to get caught and nearly cause a heart attack to whoever sees you

Thing is!! Aomine has no intention to stop

You neither, by the way

You're both on a mission to make him cum so you're not stopping

Instead, you pick up the pace, till he finally snaps and cum down your throat

Swallowing it all because you shouldn't leave any trace!

Once that's done, you do apologize to your surrounding

Takes a couple of hours for you two to realize what you've done and that it's lowkey a public offense

Promise that it won't happen again but Aomine really can't help wanting you anytime and anywhere :)

#wrote most of it in the tramway on my way to my birthday lunch #my apologies to the old lady who's seen what was going on my screen 😭 #but here it is! hope you like it hihi #was so fun to write <3 #knb #kuroko no basuke #knb hcs #knb headcanons #knb smut #knb x reader #kagami taiga #kagami x reader #kagami smut #kise ryota #kise x reader #kise smut #aomine daiki #aomine x reader #aomine smut #kagami headcanons #kise headcanons #aomine headcanons

[moonlight-prose]

FIRST LIGHT

➛ #01. ETERNAL DARKNESS

a/n: this fic has been shoving its way to the front of my brain for months now. so i finally decided to sit down and write the first chapter. tommy miller somehow snuck up on me in 2023, and now there's really no going back with this man. i love him and all his agonies. this is a fic that i'm really connected to and terrified to post actually. it's also a level of angst i've never put out before so i'm handing tissues to y'all now.

summary: tommy miller never thought he would end up alone. not when he had family behind him - a life that wasn't perfect, but good enough. yet there he was, kneeling on the cold forest floor - bloodied and bruised - asking to die. until light streams through the trees, and he sees you.

word count: 2k+

pairing: tommy miller x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, grief, angst so much angst it's actually painful, tommy wants to die, tw suicide mention, blood, death, grief, the horrors of living through an apocalypse, IF YOU DON'T VIBE WITH A TON OF ANGST THIS IS NOT FOR YOU.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

There was no light in a body split down the middle. A body filled to the brim with splinters and jagged edges. With a hollow emptiness that created an opening—a chasm.

He could feel how the darkness soaked in, filling the spaces where light once belonged—where hope used to be. But nothing could exist if pain—grief—reigned free. A wild ruthless thing, cracking apart whatever remained. Feeding off the shine that once thrived there.

There was no light.

Not anymore.

He ran through the woods, the heaviness of his boots snapping twigs and branches as he went. The cracking echoed through the air, sharp and loud, accompanied by the heaviness of his breaths. Each one, more painful than the last. His fingers clenched around the ripped leather wrapped around the blade’s handle so tight his knuckles went white. At one point it was brand new, perfect. A birthday gift from his brother. He called it special—once.

Now it dripped red.

Wild eyes darted around the surrounding area, his breaths coming in slower—an attempt to slow the erratic beat of his heart. He could still taste it. The pungent sting of copper that built up in the back of his throat like bile. He couldn’t tell the difference at this point. They burned all the same.

Sucking in a breath, he felt his chest tighten, his eyes red with exhaustion. The nights were desolate, sleep no longer a priority when nothing but memories of a past he couldn’t get back to plagued him. What he wouldn’t give to go back. Maybe then he could save himself; end it before it even began.

Birds no longer chirped the same. He noticed that three days into being alone. As if nature had taken her beauty away; an act of punishment for the selfish behavior of humanity. They took her for granted. Used her up until nothing remained; until her grounds ran red with blood. And this was their consequence. An eternity of misery, of reaping what they sowed from her poisoned grounds.

He stopped breathing, stilled every limb of his body, and listened. For the signal of people coming after him. Or something worse. For a blissful numbing moment, he wished for the latter.

At least then he’d have an excuse.

His palm was warm, slicked and sticky with the color of crimson that stained his skin. A red right hand for the man filled with nothing but regret. If he could feel anything, he might have laughed at the sheer irony. Once upon a time he wanted to save the world. Now he was ready to watch it burn.

Silence spilled out of every corner. A deafening echo he yearned to find relief in. His body had other ideas though.

Clambering forward, he pressed himself against the nearest tree. The bark scraped his palm as he clutched it, tight enough to draw blood. But the bile had built and built and he could feel his body beg for something other than pain. Tilting forward he went dizzy as he dry heaved. His stomach was empty—the food he stole burned a hole in his pack.

Would it set him on fire?

Would he turn to ash here in the middle of the woods?

A sickening hope entered his chest. As thick as tar and black as night. Yet for a man who had nothing to cling to—this was enough. This would have to do.

He’d take what he could get. In a world ruined by death, a bitter hope was all he could carry. He would continue to push this boulder of grief up the hill paved with the souls of the past. The ones who could no longer sustain the heavy weight of their own heart. Some days he wondered if he could keep going, yet every morning he still woke up.

A bit more numb than the day before.

But still alive.

He used to feel hopeful at the realization. Now all that remained was bitter disappointment.

He bit down on the inside of his right cheek hard to stave off his pained shout. Copper flooded his mouth, but this was familiar. As if his body recognized a taste it’d grown to know. Clutching his thigh and waist, he stumbled away from the tree. There was nowhere to go, no place to hide, but the drive to keep moving kept him alive. The need to be anywhere but here.

Blood coated his once white t-shirt, his jeans a darker hue of blue as the wound on his thigh continued to drain out. Tommy knew he didn’t have long—spots of darkness peeking into the corners of his vision. The threat of oncoming blackness.

“Fucking shit,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as the burn of pain spread through his veins.

Images of the man flashed behind his eyelids. Blood, so much of it, filled his senses. He could still smell it, the hot flush against his skin as he pressed down on the blade hard enough to sever that link between life and the human body. How ruthless he’d been was sharp in his mind. And for the first time in a long time, Tommy was afraid of himself.

He killed the man with his special knife. The engraving Joel placed there—a reminder that his brother was always with him—glared back. I’m proud of you, coupled with the offset reflection of a man he didn’t recognize. There was no life in his brown eyes, no light. Only a thrill he’d seen before—a darkness he locked away the second it crept to the surface.

A piece of him that wasn’t human.

He bit down harder on his cheek, tearing through the flesh with ease. Would Joel be proud of him now? Would he look at him with the eyes of a big brother? The promise to protect him lingering in the brown Tommy knew better than his own. Or would he leave him alone all over again; claim he was a lost cause. After all, there was no use in saving the soul of a man this far gone.

Tommy’s breaths came in short, quick little gasps as he fought to stay upright. To push his boulder a little further.

But what was the use? What did he have left to offer the world? The man’s blood began to dry to his skin, into the grooves and lines of his palms. His fate line, heartline, and everything in between now coated in the essence of another being. A reminder that what he had done—what he’d taken—would remain with him until the end of his lifeline.

Being alone wasn’t new to him. Not when his only sibling had to grow up faster than he expected, leaving Tommy behind to figure out shit on his own. But this…the aching pit of isolation was something he didn’t know how to handle. He could still see Joel’s face, the lines of disappointment suddenly deeper than when he was younger. Pity in the brown that once used to shine with hope.

They both changed. They had to with the way things shifted so quickly.

Except Tommy never thought the only thing keeping him sane—the only tie he had to his past—would leave him alone.

He felt that overwhelming despair begin to swell in his throat, clawing to his chest like a beast starving for more. There was no one here to see him fail. No one here to save him from the darkness.

There was no one here to watch him die.

“Please,” he breathed, his voice ragged and raw from not needing to use it. As days came and went he remained silent. His words, trapped in the empty cavern of his chest.

There was no reason to speak when no one would hear his agony.

“Please.”

The beg morphed the longer he stood there, repeating it softly. Swaying on his feet. He wasn’t sure who he was speaking to. Who his plea was going out to, but Tommy didn’t care anymore. The pain that he tried to control—keep at bay for as long as he could—finally began to seep into his mind. Cracking the final pieces of his soul off like a bottle shattering on the floor. He begged for the release of this anguish, for time to turn back, for his brother to return to him.

He begged for death on a silver platter.

Unashamed, unabashed, and unafraid.

His knees slammed against the forest floor as he fell, his body sagging forward slightly, hands clutching onto his waist as blood spilled down his leg. If he didn’t patch himself up and chose to remain this way, he’d eventually bleed out. Right here on the dirt. He’d return to the Earth, become one with the moss that would eventually grow over his body.

Even that seemed like the better choice than this.

Fighting to live without end. In a world that would be happy to see him get snuffed out like a candle. Entirely blown away with nature’s breath. Her viciousness finally coming to fruition.

He gasped for a breath. Hot tears spilled over his scraped cheeks, his blood split lip from fighting now burning with the salt. Only this time he didn’t try to stop himself, sober his emotions and gather his surroundings. This time, he sunk into the darkness that ate away at his soul, consuming him bit by bit like a decadent meal it wanted to savor. He was its sustaining life force.

Until there was nothing left of him.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking from the strain of the truth.

Tommy had never known an emotion quite like this. He never knew what welcoming death meant. Although he supposed a man would never know until he was faced with its truth; until something pushed him far enough.

He’d seen Joel go through it. Watched as his brother grappled with the decision to stay alive, and he would have joined Sarah soon enough. If Tommy hadn’t shoved his hand out of the way. Joel claims he flinched, Tommy knew the truth. He didn’t flinch, he stood still as stone with his eyes closed…he never saw Tommy’s hand coming.

But Joel would never know the truth.

A soft grin played on his lips as memories of his brother and niece flashed behind his eyes. Like a movie reel playing in a lonesome theater. He was the only person sitting there, transfixed to the screen. And Tommy would have spent the rest of his life there, watching. At least there he felt joy, hope. Emotions he thought he’d never have again.

“Please,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering open to see the light that filtered through the branches.

It fell on the floor like a spotlight, playing along it like water, and he found himself breathless to its beauty. Nature was extending her hand gently, offering him the last bit of beauty he’d get to witness. Placing a small amount of peace at his feet in retribution for what he’d gone through; what he was giving up. Tommy’s wounds continued to bleed, but for that brief moment…he didn’t feel a thing.

No pain, no hurt.

Just peace.

Something cracked in the distance, a twig breaking under the boot of someone, but he felt no need to react. The blade lay on the ground beside him, still bloody, still tainted with his guilt and regret. But there was no use picking it up now. He was already too far gone. Another helpless soul lost to a world on fire.

He could see it now. The sunlight illuminated behind their body, a soft voice echoing in the distance, and his lips curved into yet another smile. Was this nature? Had she come to lead him? Tommy gasped in another breath, forcing his eyes to focus, and yet all he could see was a blurred sight of this being. They practically glowed as they approached quicker than before.

“Hi,” he murmured, eyes wide yet unseeing.

Soft warm hands cupped his face, tilted his head, and replied something he couldn’t hear. But the light was too bright, too welcoming, and Tommy was so fucking tired. More words came, questions. He heard nothing. Just the softness of their touch, the gentleness of their nature, until it all faded. And nothing remained.

#catch me hiding for a WEEK after posting this #to all the tommy girlies i formally hand in my apology now #joy? i don't know her #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller #tommy miller fic #the last of us fic #my writing

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Waiting for the Storm

Prologue

Series Masterlist Chapter 1

pairing: Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader 

summary: "If you spend your whole life waiting for the storm, you'll never enjoy the sunshine." -Morris West

When Michael's release day finally arrives, he isn't too optimistic about his future. The most he's hoping for is a relationship with his daughter and a new path forward. The world, however, has bigger plans for him after he meets a timid, yet lovely, children's book illustrator who has more in common with him than it seems.

warnings: swearing, emotional and physical abuse (very brief descriptions here but these will be recurring themes in this story), descriptions of prison, descriptions of family loss

a/n: Ahhhh! My first Mikey story because I FINALLY had inspiration. I am way too excited about this WIP so I really hope this lil tidbit gets y'all intrigued! The general vibes will be fluff and hurt/comfort because Mikey deserves to be comforted. I hope you all enjoy!

w/c: ~900

There was something comforting about the rain. Peaceful and cleansing. Water vapor rising unburdened by the impurities of the ground to the heavens and falling back again like a gift, washing away the sins below with every splattering drop. 

When she was a child, the other girls bemoaned their hometown’s climate and constant precipitation. “Rain brings noise, and floods, and mud, and worms!” They’d lament to her after every storm. She never knew how to tell them that none of those consequences bothered her. 

Floods were rare, and more a symptom of poor drainage systems than the rain itself. Mud was mostly avoidable, and easy to wash away. Worms were necessary for composting and agriculture, not to mention completely harmless. 

The noise, well, this she understood. When she was a toddler the loud smashes of thunder and cracks of lightning terrified her too—scaring her under the covers night after night, hands clamped over her ears. But then her life became less quiet, and the storms were less loud by comparison. 

See when your home is full of screaming, and crying,  and the echoing slap of skin hitting skin, thunder is a lot more appealing. It’s easy to focus on. If you try hard enough, you can let it drown out the sounds of your father putting another hole in the drywall, of your mother’s car pulling out of the driveway for the last time—the tires screeching as she leaves you behind.  

The spattering of rain against the windows became her anchor whenever the universe was kind enough to offer it to her. When her father rages around the house, destroying every trace of his estranged wife, she would lay in bed—eyes glued to the droplets splashing against the glass. 

On the especially bad nights, she pictured a safe haven: a set of cliffs, composed of worn shale threaded with lush green grass. She could feel the cracked sandstone through the fabric of her pajamas as she sat along the edge. Fat raindrops drenched her scalp, trailing down her face, over her heavy eyelids and exposed collar bone. The ground beneath her grew increasingly damp, each swirl of water wafting the scent of petrichor towards her nose. Somewhere in the distance, waves crested over rocks—the sound getting lost in the patter of the rain. 

As she aged, she continued to dream of this place. Throughout her tumultuous teenage years and every disagreement with her father. Each and every time she felt lonely after moving to another, sunnier, state for her bachelor’s degree. 

The image was especially helpful as her relationship with Xavier turned sour. Every insult, threat, and smack fading into the drum of raindrops on rock. She’d lay awake at night, bruises blooming on her limbs, imagining the rain. 

And it was the steady pounding of droplets on the roof that gave her the courage to pack her things and leave. Trekking across town, over multiple bus routes, until she stood her friendly coworker’s doorstep—soaked to the bone, and more unhurried than she’d been in years, all thanks to the rain. 

Michael had never minded the rain. A symptom of living in Dublin his whole life, he supposed. When every other day brought a shield of clouds over the sun, you adjusted or you fled to brighter pastures. 

He sure as hell didn’t mind it when he was in his cell, listening to the jeers and yelling of the other prisoners night after fucking night. The thrum of raindrops against cinderblock were a welcomed static noise. 

At first, he was grateful for the solitude of his protected status. It gave him time to grieve the loss of his wife, to repent for his hand in her death. His stint in prison meant he was temporarily relieved of the burden placed on his shoulders by the family and it gave him time to grow and reflect. 

But it also meant losing Anna, grieving and spiraling on his own for eight excruciating years, and being closer to his father than he’d ever wanted to be again. It meant that he’d lost everything that mattered, because he’d been too careless to protect it. 

He missed freedom. He missed his family, his daughter more than anything. He missed fresh air, and hot water, and home cooked meals. He wanted to feel the wind against his chest, the rain on his face, anything but the stale breath of hundreds of other prisoners and the bite of the cool cement against his back as he drifted off. 

His release day approached slowly, at first. But after the first few years, the days began to blend together. Seasons rolling by like a strip of film in a projector, bursts of green coming and going as the plants in the sparse outdoor yard sprouted and died. The tunnel was quickly ending, but he wasn’t yet sure if there was light at the end of it. 

Regardless of what lay waiting for him outside of those gates, he’d regain his autonomy, he’d try to see Anna, he’d try to move forward. 

This is what the rain sounded like, when it pounded against the foundation of the prison. It sounded like liberty, like family, like achievable peace. 

If he could feel the rain again, he could keep going. And he would.

#michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #mikey kinsella #kin rte #kin amc #kin bbc #charlie cox #mk #my writing #WFTS

[lpdwillwrite4coffee]

Okay y'all. This is the story of how I owe $17,000 to the guy who propositioned me during family night at a local brewery and now I'm committed to bringing sensible wine options to his house for Thanksgiving.

Our tale begins like most do - panic crying in the living room while my house floods. Because of a freak polar vortex like day in February, my old drafty house and the rust bucket of a boiler in the cellar created a horrific one-two punch that ended in me nearly freezing to death in my own home and almost all of my heating pipes cracking and leaking, flooding my first floor and basement. It was terrifying, beyond stressful, and most importantly to this story, expensive.

After 2 and a half months of living in a hotel, battling insurance companies, daily anxiety attacks, and having 4 grand of insurance money stolen by my bipolar, narcissistic mother, I hit my absolute fucking limit. Friends of mine who are much better off financially than I have ever been in my life offered to help me out of the dark, lonely, and cold hole I'd wound up in. Three text messages and a lot of tears later, I was in possession of a check for $17,000 and had an official start date for construction. Praise Dolly.

A hop, skip, and a jump through time and we're now in July. I'm paying my friends back in monthly installments and trying not to crumble from the knowledge that it will take me 4 or 5 years of consistent payments to get out from under this loan. But at least I have heat. It's the little things I guess.

My friend, let's call him Mitch, and his wife, who unfortunately shares my name but for this we'll call her Lucette, are kindly checking in on me and inviting me to coffee/dinner/drinks to hang out. Things seem like they're back on track to being normal.

Lucette gets a new job that requires a ton of travel, so I don't see her as much as I do Mitch, but that doesn't bother me, as Lucette and I were never particularly close and spending more than an hour of time with her makes me feel like a dirt poor 19 year old who showed up to a nice dinner party in paint stained jeans and a ripped band tee. We are not energetic or socioeconomic equals.

One weekend, Mitch and I get drinks just to catch up, and he tells me that him and Lucette have made the decision to try out ENM (ethical non-monogamy). They've been married for 7 years, have had a bit of a dry spell due to pandemic close proximity, and there's just the general vibe that they want to try new things. I get it! And I'm encouraging. Life is too short for bad sex, I tell him, and he's thankful I'm not judging them. We have a good laugh about it all - particularly the bit about them seeing my profile on Feeld, as they have one too - and after another beer, I go home.

This is probably the part of the movie where the music changes, warning the viewer that some event is looming and possibly dangerous for our protagonist. If only life had such a soundtrack I could hear.

Throughout the summer and into September Mitch and I see more of each other and I take notice of the uptick in chill weekend day drinking and texts. Nothing about it feels off or motivated by anything other than being bored and wanting to hang out with a friend. And because I know about his ENM journey, I think there's the appeal there of getting to speak freely to someone who won't wrinkle their nose and make jokes about bringing pineapples to neighborhood BBQs. In a stunning change of mental pace, I don't overanalyze it. Perhaps this was a mistake.

One morning I wake up a text from Mitch cancelling plans. I'm secretly thrilled - I didn't want to shower that day anyway. But I can also tell something has gone horribly wrong on his end, but he doesn't say what, so I just "yeah, sure, let me know when you're free next" my way out of the conversation.

When we do talk next, he tells me why he cancelled. Lucette cheated on Mitch during a work trip. They'd established rules within their ENM arrangement that she broke. And she broke them loudly, multiple times, and with her iPad still logged in and left on the kitchen counter in full view of Mitch. Horrible words are said, declarations of 'the best sex of her life' are sent to several group chats, pictures are seen. It's bad.

Mitch is unwell. I comfort him as best as I can and he tells me that he and Lucette aren't pulling the divorce lever yet, but he's still heartbroken and scared he's going to lose his marriage. I feel awful for him. I offer to buy him another beer. He shows me the texts he saw. It's officially A Lot.

From that day on, I become his "my wife cheated on me with the guy she told me not to worry about" therapist friend who he can unload on and get sympathetic words in return. I've been imprinted on by the depressed baby bird hatched by infidelity and low self-esteem. It's not the first time, and I'm certain it won't be the last.

Tell me, how's that soundtrack only you, the audience, can hear? I bet it's tense and full of cello.

A few weeks later, I get a head cold. It's not the end of the world but it's annoying. I'm fevered, stuffy, exhausted, and I have not a drop of soup or broth in my home. Mitch sees my Instagram story about being sick and offers to bring me soup. "Aww, that's so nice of you, thank you." "Of course! I'll go get it and be right over." "Awesome! Just text me when you drop it off." Thirty minutes later my doorbell rings. My dogs bark their heads off. I'm a little annoyed. The bell rings again. I see Mitch's car in my driveway. I mutter to myself about why he didn't just leave it on the steps as I go to the door. I look disgusting and I'm flushed with a solid 100.2 fever, but I guess I'm having face time with Mitch now. I open the door and he hands over the soup almost immediately, but with an odd look on his face. I thank him and ask what I owe, but he refuses for me to pay him back. I thank him again. He doesn't make a move to leave. I tell him I'd invite him in but.... *gestures widely to the PJs I've worn for 3 days in a row and the broken capillaries in my nose and the dogs still barking behind the second entryway door* He smiles awkwardly and says it's okay. He still doesn't leave. "So... how are you, Mitch?" His shoulders slump. "I'm not doing great."

Ah. There it is. Mystery solved. My time has been bought with soup and he's lingering to collect on it. So I lean on my door, sniff back a disgusting level of mucus, and brace myself for whatever is about to be said. Turns out, Lucette couldn't stop texting the Best Sex Ever guy and possibly is fixated on him due to some weird aging hot girl nonsense. Mitch tells me he and Lucette are separating. She's sleeping in her home office. The mess got messier. I tell him I'm so incredibly sorry, this is awful, etc etc etc. He stays for 20 minutes to tell me all of this and get as much of a pep talk as I can muster while trying not to sneeze directly in his eyes.

In the interim, I've gotten several strangely loaded texts from Lucette, telling me she's glad Mitch has me and that she knows he values my friendship and advice on things. Alexa, play "She Knows." But I keep things as vague as possible, because I don't want to shove myself even more in the middle. I didn't choose to be imprinted on, but I can choose not to encourage a more permanent bond. Call me a wildlife rehabilitation center.

Being sick takes me out of commission for a while, and I have to reschedule multiple things, including getting beer with Mitch. That doesn't deter him from messaging me of course, but I don't see him for a couple weeks. When I'm feeling better, I tell him we should check out a brewery we've never been to before and we set a day.

This is probably the part when the audience yells as the protagonist not to go. Don't get in the car. Stay home.

Ah, to not be a participant in the narrative.

I get to the brewery and immediately I notice 2 things: 1, it's family Sunday Funday, and 2, the vibes around Mitch are........uncomfy. I turn into a socially anxious motormouth. I can't stop talking about literally everything that doesn't matter, including the child at the table next to us playing a solo game of Uno and the 80's music playlist. I order my beer and finally force myself to chill tf out. Maybe I've picked up on a vibe that has nothing to do with me. Maybe he's just feeling weird. Maybe I'm just insane. All of these options are valid.

Halfway thru our drinks, Mitch brings up the odd texts from Lucette. "I think I know why she was being weird with you." "Oh? Why?" I sip my beer and wait. He says, "So, back when Lucette and I decided to open up our marriage, we had a discussion about who we'd see ourselves dating..."

Hey audience, how's that music crescendo?

I blink. Mitch gestures with his beer. "And obviously, your name was at the top of my list."

And because I'm the definition of smooth, I practically shout, "REALLY???" so loudly 5 people turn around and look at me. Mitch doesn't even look away from me. Instead, he stares deeper into my eyes and asks, "Do you ever see that becoming a possibility?"

Me. Dating Mitch. After months of supporting him through a painful, messy separation that hasn't even really become official. After knowing way too much about his sex life. After all the sad boy memes and depressed 1am texts he's sent. After being forced to read his angry, sexually charged break up poetry in front of him 2 beers in at the bar.

AFTER I HAD TO BORROW $17,000 FROM HIM AND LUCETTE.

I verbally flounder for a painfully long 12 seconds while watching that little girl beat herself with another Uno Reverse card, and finally land on a gentle but firm rejection of the idea. I don't have a chance to mentally process all the messed up parts to this messed up puzzle in the moment but when I get home it starts to click.

They had that conversation in the spring. Around the time that I had to borrow the money in the first place. And while I don't have proof, I can almost guarantee that Lucette vetoed Mitch's suggestion of bringing me into their situation, and now that they're breaking up, he feels like he can take a swing at it (pun? unintended?)

Which means that every single interaction, every single conversation and hang out, every single dollar bill I borrowed is colored with the knowledge I now possess which is that Mitch, for however long, has wanted to fuck me. He's wanted to fuck me so. Goddamn. Bad.

Audience, I bet you're the star at your optometrist's office with all that 20/20 vision. I'm honestly jealous.

No wonder Lucette was sending probing texts with the energy of "I know you know, and now you know I know." No wonder Mitch attached himself to me like a duckling trying to cross a busy road. No wonder both of them were so earnestly checking on me when I first moved back into my house. NO WONDER MY SUBCONSCIOUS MIND HAD BEEN SCREAMING "YOU'RE IN DANGER GIRL" FOR WEEKS.

And before ALL of this, Mitch had organized Thanksgiving at his house since Lucette would be out of town, and one of his friends created a list of what people can bring. I signed up for wine, since it means I don't have to cook. And when this entire thing came to a head, I started to write an "I'm bailing" text to Mitch. But before I could pull that trigger, our mutual friend messaged me to say how happy she is that I'll be there and that she's missed me.

So now, after finding out that Mitch has wanted to get his dick in me for months (if not longer) without even considering the power imbalance of me owing him SEVENTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, I have to pick out a sensible red and white wine and show up at his house at 2pm on Thursday.

Audience. Reader. Friends. I am.... stressed. And in serious debt.

And apparently hot enough to possibly instigate an argument between spouses.

Cue the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving song. This year I'm grateful for autonomy and friends willing to come up with a code word in case I need to escape quickly.

#ohhhhhhhhh this is bad bad badbadbad #“obviously” SORRY??? OBVIOUSLY???????? #OBVIOUSLY YOU'RE AT THE TOP OF MY LIST #WHAT LIKE I'M FRESH MEAT ON YOUR GROCERY LIST??? #WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK #this is edging closer and closer into financial abuse territory and I HAVE to get out from under it #he didn't even think about how bad this could be for me #or how uncomfortable it would make me #and here I am just trying not to freak out about owing them money for the next 5 years of my life #AND HE GOES AND PROPOSITIONS ME #I can't #this is too much #god this sucks #what do I even do now?? #this was not the holiday I anticipated #storytime #tumblr stories

[angstsfordays]

Save me, Save you [5/?]

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Enhanced! Avenger Reader

Summary: Your fights mostly belonged on the grounds while he worked mostly in the mystic and cosmic realms. Even though you both fought together in the infinity war to stop Thanos, you and Stephen Strange hardly ever interacted with one another. It only took one incidental misunderstanding between the two of you to bring both of you closer than ever. For two people who do not believe that they could find love, all we can say is that love finds you unexpectedly.

Chapter synopsis: Reader and Stephen try to navigate the beginning of their unexpected partnership. Stephen plays his part more seriously than reader thought.

Warnings: An almost bad word coming out! Slow burn🔥 Classic fake dating shenanigans!

Word count: 4.7k

Notes: Chapter 5 is finally here! 😊 I'm sorry for the wait as real-life duties call and I had multiple deadlines to meet at work. 🥲 Hence, I could only post this chapter out over a week later! Hope y'all liked it and let me know what you think! We get to have a bit of action here! 🤪

Love,

Angstsfordays 💜

Chapters: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four

------------------------//---------------------------

The aftermath of everything that happened was a sheer nightmare. When you promised Sam that you will come back to the matter after he came back from Louisiana, that only settled half the problem.

The other half was trying to deal with Bucky but that surprisingly resolved on its own when Bucky grimly stated that he had things to attend to, which he then made his quick exit out of the Sanctum doors.

Wong left you and Stephen alone, but not before giving you a thumbs and a wish of luck.

Once everyone let the room, you immediately sunk down to the floor and heaved a sigh of relief. You webbed your fingers through you hair to slowly process what the hell just happened. For a moment, you forgot the other presence in the library- one which you were still interlocking fingers with.

Stephen blinked a couple of times as he recalled a flash of what transpired earlier.

“I really like him.”

“He makes me happy.”

The sound of love in your voice as you spoke those words did so much to him that you probably realised. Even though he knew you said what you had to convince Bucky Barnes, he couldn’t help but to feel a sense of happiness at hearing them.

Stephen then looked to you now muttering a string of curses under your breath as your eyes were burning a hole onto the ground beneath.

He cleared his throat to get your attention and your head immediately snapped towards him before looking down to your connected hands. Faster than lightning, you withdrew your hands and whispered an apology.

Stephen was disheartened at the loss of contact but then remembered he wanted an explanation from you. “Care to explain what happened back there?”

You winced at his very valid question.

“Well, you see Stephen, I may have decided to lie about our supposed relationship.” Eyes wandering everywhere except for the sorcerer in front of you, you were cracking your brain to try to explain yourself without making you sound like a pyscho.

“Hmm.” Stephen let out as he gestured for you to continue. You took a breath in and out to collect yourself before speaking.

“The person I talked to you about, the one I confessed my feelings too. It is Bucky.”

“Uh huh.” Stephen pretended to go along even though he had already figured it out for himself.

“During dinner last night, I may have told him and Sam I had a date. Mainly to convince Bucky I have moved on because he was seeing someone.” So that was the real reason why you started the lie, Stephen thought.

“Right.” He responded before you started rambling to explain yourself further. “I didn’t say who it was. I totally made it up.”

Hearing that you made up an imaginary date to get two guys that acted like your brothers was fair and also humorous. Stephen held back a smirk before speaking, “I see.”

“I didn’t expect Sam’s imagination to go off the charts and think you were my date!” Your tone was frantic and your pitch got higher as realization dawned upon you on how messy the situation was. What you had done was possibly the worst improvisation in the history of improvisation!

“Okay.” Stephen was getting a little concerned at how agitated you were starting to get but before he could budge in, you continued on dramatically.

“But I didn’t deny it because Bucky was right there and if I didn’t do what I did just now, he would know I am a lying ass.” You ended off your tirade with a flurry of dramatic hand gestures and looked to Stephen, hoping that he would understand and pitied your situation.

“Which you technically are.” The sarcastic yet accurate reply you had gotten from him made you blanched, because he was absolutely right and you were downright embarrassed.

“Yes, but I rather be a lying ass than a humiliated ass.” Trying to redeem yourself, you squirmed under the doubtful look that Stephen had thrown your way. You felt like a complete scam and looked towards him defeatedly.

“I’m sorry, Stephen. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. I panicked.”

“So what now?” Stephen looked at you expectedly, he wasn’t sure how you wanted to go about this but all he knew was that he would go along with whatever you wanted. Because he genuinely wanted to. Looking at him with hopeful doe eyes, Stephen was also pretty sure he would find it hard to say no to you.

“Please keep this up charade with me. At least for a month or something. Then we can tell them we ended this because we’re too busy with own schedules or it just didn’t work out and we decided that we’re best off as friends.”

The idea of fake dating would go terribly wrong, Stephen thought. His feelings for you which he was supposed to put a stop would also heighten while pretending to be your boyfriend in front of other people.

Yet, he did want to help you- even this whole situation is ridiculous. Seeing how you were trying to put up a brave front in front of Bucky left a gnawing feeling in his heart because he has been where you were.

When he attended Christine’s wedding and responded to her question on whether he was happy. He was totally not even though he said he is. Stephen was brought back to the present when you spoke up fervently.

“I could let you dump me. I don’t mind!” Oh Y/N…he thought. He didn’t like how you thought so little of yourself.

Stephen shook his head and tried to focus on the practicality of the matter as he spoke, “It’s not about that. How are we going to keep this up?”

Brows furrowing in dep thought, you came up with a plan. “I would probably meet Bucky and Sam a couple of times in the next month. It would be easy to put them off by saying what is between us is private.”

Stephen nodded in understanding but then meticulously thought about other considerations too. “But you’re forgetting Wong knows. Which means, America might know sooner or later. She would probably be invested in it seeing how she was so excited for you to date. We’re gonna be around each other quite a bit in their presence too.”

His tone became more serious, “I don’t really want to let her hopes get too high when she realises it is going to end in a month.”

You grimaced at the thought of having to lie and put up an act in front of America. “Crap, I have not even considered Am in the picture.”

You then countered justly, “But I’m sure she will understand. She shares with me how her friends get together and break up with guys easily.”

Stephen shook his head in disagreement as he reasoned, “But it’s different. It’s between us two, people that she looks up to and admires. If we break up so easily, it will have a far greater impact on her than you think.”

“Not if we’re not awkward after the ‘break up’. We can show how people can still be good friends even after one. Besides this is fake, it’s not like we’re dating for real.” The cold hard truth from your words stung Stephen. He was taking this more seriously than you, considering he was the one with more feelings for you than him. You probably had close to zero.

Stephen wanted to take his words back. As much as he wanted to help you, he wondered if this whole fake-dating would end up hurting him more. Stephen looked towards your guilt-ridden face after processing your entire discussion, you then looked back up at him with a firm stare.

“You know what. I’ve been very selfish asking you to do this for me. I would bear the consequences of my actions, I can tell the truth to Bucky, Sam and Wong. You shouldn’t have to play along to my bad decisions.”

“Y/N….” Worry came out from Stephen as he stares at your crestfallen expression. You put on your most optimistic face to reassure him as you saw Stephen looking upon you with concern.

“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” You tried to make a joke about yourself to lighten the atmosphere. It was this moment where Stephen decided to not hold back.

“No, you are not.” He replied adamantly. Stephen hated seeing you so upset and hurt.

“Y/N…I am going to help you get through this.”

You couldn’t believe your ears and took a moment to process Stephen’s words. He actually agreed to help you! Breaking into a wide toothy grin, you started shaking excitedly.

“You mean it?” Your heart was hammering to hear Stephen’s confirmation and once he nodded in response, you stretched out your arms to gesture for a hug.

Stephen took a step forward to return your hug. He was relieved to see your cheery self once more and savoured in the close contact you two were having.

You held Stephen closely to show your appreciation and pulled back to show him your biggest smile.

“Thanks Stephen, you’re my literal hero!”

Taken back by your statement, Stephen was at a loss for words. His hands were getting clammy with nerves and his heart started pounding. To be the hero of an Avenger like you or even just to be your hero brought new meaning to him.

He always claimed himself to be an all-knowing and all-important person- protecting the fabric of reality and time. Yet, to be your hero just by getting you out of a messy situation brought a greater sense of accomplishment.

To be the reason for your smile and your happiness brought him far more pride than he ever had in his whole career as a surgeon or sorcerer.

------------------------//---------------------------

Stephen and you had decided to work out some rules regarding your entire dating fake situation that day. The two of you agreed that you would do no more than hand holding, hugs and friendly kisses in front of people.

The two of you had a cover story of bumping each other on the streets well over a month ago and started to hang out outside of the Sanctum. You both decided to wait and keep your relationship under wraps until it was more established- which did not happen due to the incidental expose with Sam and Bucky.

Stephen and you decided to find the right timing to ‘confess’ to America and wanted to make sure it came from the two of you first. You both believed Wong wouldn’t be the sort to tell everyone so you wanted to try keeping this relationship as close to your inner circle.

The wider it gets only meant more things to cover up. You shuddered at the thought.

Making your way to the Sanctum Sanctorum, you nervously got off your bike and parked it.

You hadn’t been this nervous even on your first visit, but just thinking about how things might or did change.

Entering the familiar lobby area of the Sanctum, you made your way to find America. You took the familiar steps to the residential wing of the Sanctum- each step you took was heavy as did your heart.

“Y/N?” A familiar comforting voice was heard behind you. The door of Stephen’s study opened and you saw him stepping out of the room. Cloakie followed closely behind and was about to latch him onto Stephen’s shoulders before it was made aware of your presence.

The ancient relic left Stephen hanging and swoosh to your side, wrapping you in a warm embrace. You giggled at its affectionate gesture and ran a hand up and down its softness.

Stephen looked towards the both of you with a mixture of annoyance and adoration.

“I’m jealous.” Your attention was brought back to Stephen standing hands folded with a teasing look.

Both you and Cloakie turned your attention to the Sorcerer. “Hmm? Of what?”

Taking steps towards you, Stephen smirked as he spoke, “I called you first, but your attention is on Cloak.”

“Oh, but he’s so cute!” You returned with a teasing expression. Cloakie then proceed to wrap itself even tighter in response to show its fondness for you.

“And I’m not?” Stephen took a cheeky jab at you and you can’t help to have a feeling that he was acting differently but not in a bad way. You know beneath his hard exterior, Stephen can be light-hearted and even sassy too.

“You’re acting odd?” Your statement came off more like a question. Stephen grinned at your confused expression before saying, “Just playing the part of the jealous boyfriend.”

“Of Cloak?” You added on doubtfully with a raised brow.

“Why not? Anyone who steals the attention of my girlfriend would incur my jealousy.” Stephen answered in a matter-of-fact tone. You rolled your eyes at this pretend play of his and decided to play along.

“Oh right. Got it.” Taking one more step brought you and Stephen chest to chest, you looked up to Stephen with apologetic eyes and a pout. “I’m sorry babe.”

Stephen’s heart jumped a little at the little nickname you added to your apology. He had to control himself from grinning out like a fool. “Is that what you’re going for?”

Giving him a quizzical look, you asked, “Then what should I call you?”

“Yours.” Stephen’s low baritone voice enunciating that one single word caused your insides to flip upside down. Why were you feeling this way?

Your lashes fluttered to look up at Stephen who was watching you with a cheeky grin. Your brows furrowed in light annoyance.

Thinking of the best comeback you can make, you retorted, “Unbelievable the all-stoic and nonchalant Stephen Strange is such a cringe.” Your words only served to make Stephen’s grin wider.

“I can be if I want to. Is it too much?” He laughed as he took a step back, creating a slight distance that only disappointed you. Why were you feeling sad that he moved back?

Shaking your head to rid of any deviating thoughts, you murmured with a passive voice. “It’s weird but not too much.”

Stephen was puzzled to see a change in your demeanour but he continued to speak, “Well, we should get some practice in if we wanted to convince Wong. He is shockingly intuitive and we must be on our toes.”

Nodding in agreement, you fiddled with the sides of your leather jacket nervously at the idea of pretending to keep up the dating act.

After everything has finally processed, you realized that you’re actually fake dating Stephen and while you thought this would be a breeze, you started to have some doubts of your own.

“Well, I shall not keep you any further. I got a class to teach soon so I will see you on the grounds later?” Gesturing for Cloak to return to him, the relic huffed before waving goodbye to you and then settling on Stephen’s shoulders.

You nodded as Stephen threw a disarming smile your way before he opened up the portal to Kamar-Taj. What was this unnerving feeling that you were experiencing?

------------------------//---------------------------

After training America for an hour or so, Wong came over to ask you for a favour. One of the Masters that was in charge of fight trainings called in sick- something about having too much Korean BBQ the previous night.

You agreed to help and brought America along to the class. As it was an advanced class involving the teachings of using a weapon, America had to sit this class out. Nevertheless, she joined in as an audience at the side and was excited to see you- her beloved mentor in full action.

As your eyes hovered over the small group of Masters-in-training, one guy caught your attention as you felt his stare almost burning into the side of your head.

You recognised him as one of the handsome recruits from the Hong Kong Sanctum and when both of your eyes met, the corner of his lips went up into a charming smile.

You weren’t sure entirely how to react so you returned a polite smile before conducting the class. Each Master had to use their magic energy to conjure a weapon that was of their own choice, you tried to guide them on how they could best utilise these weapons best for both attacks and defence.

You had everyone practiced in pairings to figure out the workings of their weapon choices before calling for a break. Everyone dispersed to use the toilet, grab some water or went for a change in scenery.

A voice called out to you and your head turned to the handsome recruit who smiled at you previously. Looking at him closer, you could observe his striking features more intimately.

He had a head full of black and neat cropped hair, his handsomeness wore a devilishly and boyish look. He was definitely younger than you with the puppy like smile he was throwing your way.

You had to admit he was stunning but you did not forget to be professional. Walking closer to him, you acknowledged his call out to you and asked him how you could help him.

“Master Y/N?” He called you with an endearing tone which taken you aback.

“Oh, I’m not a Master.” Shaking your head and hand, you tried to hold in your laughter at the misunderstanding before explaining yourself.  “I’m just subbing for Master Fukuhara. I’m not a Master here actually.”

The young recruit who introduced himself as Daniel Cheung widened his eyes at your statement and chuckled nervously before speaking, “I’ve been here for a month and I always see you training that girl over there. How come she is so special?”

“Oh, Wong asked me to train America specifically for combat and not in the Mystic Arts. I can’t actually do any magic.”

Daniel’s face was painted with surprise at your explanation while you continued to speak.

“I used to be an agent. So I have experiences with different types of weapons, that’s why I’m here.”

Daniel blinked innocently at your revelation, “Like a spy?”

You nodded while giggling at his question, “Something like that?”.

Daniel looked at you with awe before a confusion dawned upon him. “I saw you with powers though. I didn’t know a spy has powers. If they’re not magic, what are they?”

“I don’t know how to explain, I’m just born with them. They’re energy based and have more physical rather than magical impact.” You extended a hand to light up some energy sparks in your hand, manipulating it like a mini fireworks show.

Excitement lit up Daniel’s face. “That’s cool! You’re like me! Sort of! My ancestry stems from a long line of Masters so magic has been kind of within me too.”

You smiled like a mum at his cuteness and did wonder why he would choose to study Mystic Arts at a young age.

Most of the Masters here were definitely much older and the youngest would at least be around your age.

“I just want to say, I think you are so cool when I see you training on the grounds. I actually look forward to seeing you every time too.” Hearing what Daniel said got you flustered and you did not know how to receive the compliment except with an awkward smile.

He’s cute but could you really see yourself with someone like him? Not quite. Little do you know- cold and brooding types with a hidden warm side have always attracted you.

America was approaching you with your water bottle but stopped short in her tracks as your conversation with Daniel fell within her range.

She could not believe her ears and eyes as to what was happening. Y/N was finally getting some action and of all places, it’s at Kamar-Taj! She was trying so hard to squeal aloud and had to resort to doing it on the inside.

“Oh, uh, that’s really unexpected. Thank you for the compliment, that’s sweet of you.” Smiling politely, you found yourself feeling nervous.

“You know what’s sweeter?” You blinked wide-eyed at Daniel’s question, causing him to chuckle at your confusion.

“Yu, me and a cup of boba? I know this new place that just opened up.” Your eyes started blinking faster and your mind was whirling to process what could follow Daniel’s statement.

You had a gut feeling and the words came out of you sooner than you thought. “Oh, I don’t think-”

Daniel ignored your stuttering and went on with a hopeful look in his eyes, “I saw you bringing over some sweet drinks for the other Masters the other day and figured that boba might be to your liking?”

America could see you acting all fidgety and wanted to chid you for being awkward. Where was all the confidence and swag that you had from the time that she had known you?

You always carried yourself with positive and calming energy that infected the people around you. Yet, here you were completely the opposite as you looked flustered.

America wanted to step into help give you a boost of confidence and be your wing woman. However, What she didn’t realised was another person witnessing this exchange too- one in blue robes and donning a red cloak relic.

Stephen ended his class early and later learnt from Wong that you had agreed to help sub a class. He was curious to see how it went and had managed to catch five minutes of it from the side before you called for a break.

He was going to call out to you before another person got ahead of him. His eyes narrowed to the young-looking recruit whom he recognised as one from the Hong Kong division.

“Would you like to hang out sometime? Maybe tonight after class if you’re not too busy?”

A rush of emotions and thoughts flooded Stephen as his eyes fleeted between you standing awkwardly and bashful while the young recruit was trying to take his shot at you.

What did that young man just say? Why were you not saying anything back? Stephen immediately thought back to days ago where you were caught ogling at the handsome recruits.

Dread started to set into Stephen’s mind. Did you actually liked the guy enough and wanted to have your chance?

You couldn’t actually agree right? The two of you have yet to talk about the possibility of what ifs- if one of you wanted to start dating other people. Well more you than Stephen, he most definitely was not interested in others.

You didn’t even have any actual feelings for him so you would want to have night out with some young handsome lad? While Stephen’s mind was thinking of all possibilities, his gaze went back to you.

He caught your eye as you immediately turned towards him with a wide-eyed look. You bit your lips nervously and looked back to Daniel who was waiting for your eager response. Stephen and you may not have known each other for a long time, but he dared to say he knew you well enough to sense how you were feeling.

Taking long strides, Stephen placed himself right beside you and you were taken aback by the sudden proximity. Stephen puffed out his chest in a show of confidence before looking at Daniel then you.

“Y/N, I hate to interrupt but I need your help.”

“Help with what?” You asked with a baffled look before catching the twinkling in Stephen’s cerulean eyes. Without speaking, you knew what he was doing and you were so eternally grateful for him getting you out of a sticky situation (again).

“Something that requires your help.” He enunciated each word clearly.

You looked towards Daniel who was unaware of what the two of you were up to before playing along. “Ah, right of course. I would be glad to help you.”  

Turning to Daniel with an apologetic look, you put on your most sorry face. “Sorry, I gotta help Stephen with something important.”

In contrary, Daniel’s face was full of optimism. “Oh yeah of course. But we’re still on tonight?”

“What?” You let out a croak. Jealousy was brimming inside Stephen as he witnessed this foolish young man’s persistence. Couldn’t he see that you were clearly uncomfortable? This man was taking advantage of your niceness.

Unfortunately for him, Stephen was anything but nice.

“For Boba?” Silence followed after as the three of you looked between each other. Meanwhile, America felt like she was watching in the scene of a Netflix series. The tension in the situation was so sharp it could pop just like a balloon.

She really wished she could have some popcorn at this moment.

“Recruit…?” Stephen inquired with a hint of contempt.

“Cheung. Master Strange. Daniel Cheung.”

“Ah, yes. Y/N cannot make it for tonight. She will be busy with me.” Responding with a matter of fact tone, you feel one of Stephen’s arm suddenly placed around your shoulders.

Your eyes bulged at the physical contact. It wasn’t anything you’re uncomfortable with but he definitely wasn’t the touchy feely sort in front of others.

“Okay…” Daniel pondered seriously for a moment before glancing at you with a grin. “Tomorrow then?”

If it was physically possible, Stephen’s eyes would roll to the back of his head at how dense this boy was.

“Recruit Cheung. She would not be free tomorrow, the day after, not on the weekends, not next week and not anytime soon.” Stephen’s change in tone had you in shock. You were not surprised by his unfriendliness but at where you thought he might be heading with his words.

“What? Why?”

Stephen spoke to Daniel haughtily. “Because every moment she has besides work and training will be with me.”

With a smug look on his face, Stephen stated with finality. “We’re together.”

You started sputtering once you heard the words that came out of his mouth. No, Stephen! You’re supposed to keep the fake dating within the small circle- that means Bucky, Sam, Wong and eventually America!

Daniel was clearly flustered as he looked between the two of you and under the watchful eye of Stephen, he gathered the courage to speak up, “But when I see the two of you on the grounds, it didn’t seem like you were together.”

“It’s called professionalism.” Stephen rebuffed the recruit’s claim with ease. Daniel looked flabbergasted but then an invisible light bulb seemed to go off in his head.

“Ah, are you trying to help her out? Because if I were to be honest, you two don’t seem to look like a couple.”

Daniel then turned to you with a supposed understanding look. “Y/N, I know that me asking you out of the blue might have taken you by surprise but I swear that I only have good intentions.”

Stephen was clutching his fist tightly (with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your shoulder) as he was astonished at how overly confident this young lad was. “Are you serious? I just said we are together.”

“And somehow, I don’t believe it. You’re all brooding and cold while she is all sunshine.”

Stephen was seething at how Recruit Cheung was testing his patience. The hand around your shoulder slid down before reaching to interlock with one of yours.

“What are you doing?!” You mouthed to him in panic. Stephen didn’t respond but instead started at you endearingly for a moment.

Stephen’s emotions were taking over him. This was definitely not part of your fake dating plan but he was sure as hell to prove something to Daniel Cheung.

What did he even mean by you two not looking like you belonged together?!

He saw the panic in your eyes but he knew it was too late to reverse what he said (although he was more than capable to do a simple memory erasure spell).

He just had to wing it.

Leaning down to you, Stephen planted his lips on yours and his other hand immediately went to cradle the side of your face. You were in shock at what he was doing and wanted to pull yourself away but when you felt his hot breath on your lips, your body involuntarily responded back.

What in the world were you doing?!

You let go of your hand in Stephen’s hold and placed them on his firm chest. As you felt his lips putting more pressure onto yours, you snaked both hands from his chest to around his neck. Stephen’s free hand pulled you closer by the waist and the two of you were deep in your lip lock for a few more seconds.

Stephen couldn’t believe that you were responding in kind and when your thumb brushed against his beard, it elicited an involuntary soft moan from his lips that also caused your stomach to somersault.

“What the fuc-” America let out before Wong’s voice cut into the scene. It woke both you and Stephen out of your trance. You pulled away and a soft pop could be heard from both Stephen and your lips while doing so.

You jumped at the sight of the sudden crowd of people gathering around and looked towards bashful looking Stephen whose eyes were anywhere were towards you.

Why would he even try to kiss you like that? You were still reeling from the shock of what happened before a voice shrieked.

“YOU TWO ARE DATING?!” You and Stephen looked towards the teenage girl who had a mixture of shock and giddy excitement on her face.

As all eyes were on you and Stephen, you realised that your sticky situation had gotten stickier and that now probably most of Kamar-Taj would believe that you two were dating.

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Tag list: @severuined @thewinterpoet2 @moraonmarz @sherlocksgirl91 @strangesweetheart @zeeader @geeky-politics-46 @evelynrosestuff @mischiefmanaged71 @singhfae @capricorn-nightmare @stilllivindue2spite @endless-starzz @strangeobsessed @tis-vereon  @eve-dusk @sleepdeprivedasever @mochuchi @lovecleastrange @glitterylokislut

#angstsfordays #save me save you #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #doctor strange x reader #dr strange fanfiction #dr strange x reader #stephen strange fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[luckycharms1701]

*comes into inbox driving a semi truck and starts backing it towards the Mikey Well. Once safely arriving at lip of said hole, let's out a shrill whsitle as I proceed to dumb this upon ye*

Yo Mikesters! I heard the request to think about Mikey, and I got a little something for ya!

I dug this out of my docs, it was my very first attempt of a turtle fic I scrounged up about 5 years ago. Figured y'all could use it better than having it collect dust.

All you need to know is Clay is an older sister OC who’s really close with Mikey. Warning it is a hurt/comfort with a sprinkling of soft Raph

🧡 Breaking Point 🧡

Raphael threw open the door to Michelangelo’s room with an unapologetic BANG, causing Mikey to jump slightly from where he moodily sat hunched in the corner of his bed. 

Raph was never one to give a preamble and as such marched right in like he owned the place. 

Mikey’s eyes flicked towards his brother only for a moment before chuffing dismissively and turning his shell to his brother. 

Raph narrowed his eyes at Mikey’s lack of response and respect of his oh so “overwhelming” presence. 

Something was definitely up.

Mikey’s room was his sacred place, and he didn’t let just anybody walk in. Raph was always down for a fight, always looking for one actually. That's the reason he barged into Mikey’s room in the first place. The fact that he wasn’t adamantly defending his turf put Raph on even more of an edge. 

He had to get to the bottom of this.

Raphael strode to the side of Mikey’s bed and plopped down on the corner with a slight grunt. The noise captured Mikey’s attention, and he turned to scowl at Raph over his shoulder. Raph returned the scowl with a glare of his own, folding his arms in emphasis. 

The two brother’s gazes locked in a heated staredown. It only lasted for a handful of moments, but it seemed like an eternity due to the intense silence that screamed between the two. 

Mikey was the first to look away, unable to bear the heat that was smoldering in Raph’s glare any longer. 

“What?!”  Mikey finally snapped, throwing a hand out and raising his shoulders up defensively around his head. 

Raph didn’t even blink at Mikey’s outburst, he just stared at Mikey, long and hard before unfolding his arms to jab a finger in Mikey’s direction. 

“Spill.”  He growled.

Mikey blinked at Raph incredulously, his brows creased in confusion. “Spill? What on earth are you talking about?!”  

Raph’s eyes narrowed. “ I ain’t talking about nothin’. Yous going to be the one talking.”  

Mikey scoffed, folding his arms to mirror Raph.  “Oh yeah? About what?”  

Raph threw a hand up and rolled his eyes snarkily, “Oh Idunno? Why don't you talk about what the shell happened back there in the dojo?! Or what's been up with you for the past couple of months!”  

Mikey blinked in surprise before his face hardened in a face too serious to rest comfortably on the usual happy go lucky turtle. He looked down, again shuffling away to turn his shell to Raph.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”  he muttered darkly.

Raph’s eye twitched at Mikey's slight petulance, and let out a little growl. “Oh don't play stupid with me, little brotha. I think you do.“ 

 Raph proceeded to angrily tick off his fingers, unaware of Mikey’s sharp flinch in response to his classic less than gentle approach. 

“You train all day, and you’s up all night. You go all “beast” mode whenever we mess with the Foot, and do it all without a single cracked joke! You’s all business and no fun.

And if that ain’t weird enough then we add in that you don’t play any of your video games anymore. I haven’t seen you read a single comic in weeks! And don’t even get me started on pizza! You haven’t picked up a slice since…” 

Raph trailed off for only a second before narrowing his eyes with a small scowl and jumping right back in, “Somethings up with you, and I don’t like it.”  

Mikey rolled his eyes and flicked his hand dismissively, sassing Raph under his breath.“There’s a lot of things you don’t like, Raph. How’s this any different?”  

Raph’s eye twitched at the blatant disrespect and immediately set to ratify the perceived injustice by slugging Mikey on the shoulder. “Hey! This ain’t about me. This is about you.”

Raph barked, reaching up to poke Mikey in the forehead. Mikey’s face twisted into annoyed scowl and he irritatedly swatted Raph’s hand away. 

“Lemme alone Raph.”  

Raph let Mikey push his hand away, but he remained rooted to Mikey’s bed. 

“I ain’t leavin’ Michelangelo.”  

Raph huffed with an unyielding voice of authority, and Mikey's scowl soured further at the use of his full name. Raph noticed the dark look and simply folded his arms, leaning back against the wall nestled against Mikey’s bed as if to prove his point. 

“Not until you let out whatevers you has holed up in that big ‘ole head of yours.”  

Mikey shot Raph a sharp side glance over his shoulder, not saying anything, just boring Raph down with his baby blues. 

“I ain’t leaving,” Raph grunted again under the scrutiny, a little quieter this time but just as resolutely as before. 

Mikey’s eyes flicked to Raph’s set jaw and knew that Raph had made up his mind about this. Raph’s stubbornness was legendary in the fact that it knew no bounds. Once Raphael set his mind on something, there was no stopping him. 

Raph just sat there on the bed, waiting tensely under Mikey’s unnerving scrutiny. Mikey had something dark stuck inside him, and Raph didn’t like that. Didn’t like that at all.

For as annoying as his kid brother could be, Mikey was still his kid brother, and he was going to sit there all night if he had to, to help his little buddy out. 

Mikey stared at Raph for a couple moments more in thick and tense silence before slowly lowering his gaze from Raph’s face. Mikey bent forward, resting his elbows against his knees and intertwinning his fingers with a small defeated and weary sigh. 

Raph eyed Mikey’s abnormally solemn behavior with slight unease, his arms folded tightly against his plastron. 

Sure, he’d wait all night if he had to, but everybody knew that patience was not one of Raphael’s strong suits. Raph just silently prayed that Mikey’s chronic restlessness would snap faster than Raph’s impatience. 

It would seem however that the heavens were closed tonight, for the two turtles continued to sit in an agonizingly prolonged silence. Raph continued to sit agitatedly on the side of Mikey’s bed, waiting for him to speak. To do or say anything. 

Raph couldn’t remember a time that Mikey had been quiet or still for quite this long, and it was grating on his nerves. Heck even when he was sleeping, Mikey would fidget, snore, sleep talk or just do whatever his little energizer bunny body did when it was so called “resting”. 

This ongoing silence was going to drive Raph mad…well…madder than normal.

 Mikey finally seemed to gather his thoughts and let out a long shuddering breath. Raph almost let out a sigh himself, but refrained and just turned to his little brother expectantly. Mikey inhaled slowly and looked down at his hands for a moment.

His eyes were full of sorrow, lost and unfocused in an unnerving way as he began to absentmindedly stroke the lines in his palms with the pad of his finger before muttering in an unnatural softness, “Being the mutant heroes of the city and whatever, we see a lot of weird out on the streets.“  

Raph blinked in surprise. He wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but that definitely was not it.  

Mikey let out a little sardonic laugh and dropping his wrists on his knees with a wry shake of his head before continuing on. “Heck, if we didn’t see something weird or out of the ordinary then that was usually a big sign something was up.”  

Raph dipped his head and lifted a shoulder in agreement, but was still confused on where this was leading. He was used to Mikey talking in circles, that wasn’t anything new. But when Raph looked up to see Mikey’s twitch up into a soft small smile, suddenly he knew exactly where this conversation was headed. 

There was only one person who could make Mikey smile like that.  

Mikey sat smiling away at his thoughts for a second and then continued. “But Clay…dude...she was weird like nobody I’d ever met. I mean who else would not scream when they saw four mutant ninja turtles in the sewer?” 

Mikey shook his head and let out a more Mikey sounding laugh at the memory. “Heck even Casey and April freaked when they first must us. But not Clay, dude. She was like totally chill.”  

Raph interjected at that moment with a smirk. “You’re forgetting that she was looking for us, man. She knew exactly what she was doin’.” 

Mikey waved Raph’s words away with a flick of his hand. “That’s besides the point, dude. Clay was different, and well...I liked her different. She was this rad mixture of like total chill and just enough quirkiness to keep things interesting” 

Mikey fell quiet at that, musing absentmindedly as he chewed on his bottom lip. His fingers twitched as he stroke his hands with some bottled up nervously energy for a moment or two as he attempted to wrangle in the rodeo that was his thought process before adding softly. 

“I liked her Raph...I liked her a lot.”  

Raph let out a snort of laughter and slugged Mikey in the shoulder with a teasing waggle of his eyebrows “ ‘Course ya did, Mikey.”  

Mikey shot him a dark look and shoved Raph to the side with an annoyed huff. “Cut it out, dude! It wasn’t like that! “ 

Raph let Mikey push his shell back against the wall with a small amused chuckle. It was good to see some fire back in Mikey’s eyes and he couldn’t help the small smirk from playing on his lips. “I know. We all liked her.”  

There was a small grunt of agreement was the only response from Mikey’s end of the bed as he slowly getting lost again in thought. “That’s just it, bro...We’re…I’m usually the first to make friends with people, but it was Clay who was the first to try and be friends with us! It was unexpected and totally out of the ordinary. Guess…I guess that’s why we got along so well.” 

The little light that had sparked into Mikey's eyes when previously mentioning Clay dimmed slightly as his smile turned sad and wrung his hands together. “Clay was the unexpected to my out of the ordinary. She was a friend to all of us, but to me she wasn’t just a friend. She was...I don’t even know… just something else man.”  

Mikey let out a breath and looked down at his hands, flexing his two fingers. Raph picked up on the nervous energy, and he could tell that Mikey was really struggling to get these words out. Mikey never struggled with words, being the friendly little extrovert that he was and it was that fact alone that made Raph hesitantly scoot in to listen just a little bit closer. 

“Clay was the first person to make me feel like I was more than just the stupid little brother.” Mikey’s brow hardened into an intense frown ,and his fingers suddenly curled inward, making a tight white knuckled fist. “I know you guys think I’m an idiot, and that I can’t take anything seriously.” 

Raph rolled his eyes and scooted closer so he could wrap an arm around Mikey’s shoulder. “ Come on Mikey. You know that ain’t true. Messing around is what big brotha’s do!”  

Mikey clenched his eyes shut and let out a low growl that was so low and full of rage that Raph had the chilling experience of feeling small in front of his kid brother for one teensy teeny tiny little second which made him completely unprepared when Mikru three Raph’s arm off from his shoulders. 

“I wish it was just messing around! But you dudes actually believe it! You dudes don’t think I can do anything!” Mikey snarled as he whirled to face Raph with a seething look.

Raph’s eyes widened in surprise at the pure ferocity that oozed out of Mikey’s voice and tense body language.

Mikey’s shoulders shook, and his hands clenched and unclenched into fists in a motion that was oh so hauntingly familiar to Raph but looked just downright unnatural when Mikey did it. Mikey continued on, his voice low and tense.

 “I’m just the kid brother who will always plays as bait because that’s all you dudes think I’m good for, and when I actually do something useful you act all surprised, like it’s a spur of the moment or whatever! You don’t think I’m actually capable of doing anything on purpose except being “annoying” do you? “  

Mikey air quoted sarcastically, and then turned to face Raph directly in the eyes, his chest heaving as he snarled into his brother’s face.

“Well do you?!“ 

Raph couldn’t believe what he was seeing right now. His kid brother who was usually the first to back down when talking to him, was now staring him down hard with absolutely no fear. Mikey held resouletely held his gaze, his jaw set as he waited for Raph’s response.

 “I… uh…” Raph stuttered and his hand came to rub the back of his neck. He didn’t know what to say. Mikey was right. They had all treated him like he was a little kid. 

Mikey continued to glare at Raph, his baby blues shockingly ice cold. The shame of being called out made it hard for Raph to meet Mikey’s eyes. Mikey turned his head sharply and looked down at the ground in disgust, “That’s what I thought.” He muttered darkly under his breath. 

Mikey raised a shaky fist, and punched it into the fabric beside him. He slowly released his fingers, digging them into the fabric with a sharp exhale. ‘

“Clay never treated me like that. She was the only one who didn’t treat me like a joke. She laughed with me. Not at me.” 

Mikey shot out before pulling his legs up into his plastron, and wrapped his arms tightly around his knees with a shaken huff.

Raph’s heart squeezed uncomfortably at the sight of his little brother curling in on himself like that. Mikey used to do that a bunch when he was scared and needed comfort as a kid. It just felt…wrong seeing the bigger-than-life turtle seem small…almost fragile all closed up like that. 

Mikey let out a long sigh and his shoulders dropped.  “We never talked like her and Donnie did…” Mikey began softly, the anger dissipating from his voice, making him seem tired and withdrawn.

 “But whenever I wanted to say something, Clay actually cared enough to listen. Even when she was arting or whatever, she’d put whatever she was doing aside and gave me her full attention.”  

Mikey tightened his hold around his legs, and plopped his head on his knees, his voice coming out in a wet croak. “She made me feel special and important. Someone worth talking to. Somebody actually cool enough to hang out with. Not just someone’s annoying responsibility.” 

His voice cracked slightly at that comment, and he cleared his throat with a sniff before continuing. “Nobody’s ever really done that before...and I guess that’s why I hung around her so often. It was nice to feel like somebody actually cared about me.” 

Mikey’s eyes got misty, a broken little smile toying at his lips as once again he wandered down a fairer memory lane. “You know, Clay had this way of making me feel like I was actually good at being a ninja, that I was a contributing and important part of this team. She believed in me in a way that you dudes never did.” 

Mikey wiped a fist across his eyes and let out a little laugh. “Shell, I don’t even think Master Splinter thinks I’ll really amount to anything, but Clay did. She saw something in me, and she made sure to let me know. But she wasn’t pushy about trying to find and train it like Leo is sometimes.” 

Raph’s brow furrowed slightly at that,  and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He let out a grunt trying to mask the chuckle that wanted to escape from his throat. Mikey had pegged the main difference between Leo and Clay head on.

Mikey didn’t notice and continued to plow on. “Clay was chill bro, but it was the kind of chill that inspired you. I wanted to do better. I wanted to be better, so I could be the Michaelangelo she believed I could be. That’s why I trained so hard when she was…” Mikey coughed and continued albeit a little quieter. “That’s why I continue to train.“  

Raph looked up at Mikey in surprise over his shoulder before quickly looking down at his hands. He knew exactly what Mikey meant. 

Clay had become something like…a big sister to all of them. She had this uncanny way of looking at all of them through their thick shells and seeing the young boys who just wanted love and acceptance. And what was crazy most about it? Is she just gave it. No rhyme, no reason, no joke, pattern or logic to how she did it. She simply just met the turtles where they were at, and loved them from there. 

Each of the brothers had his life touched by her gentle hand in some form or fashion, and all of them in their own unique way had wanted to keep her safe, keep her with them. None more so than Mikey it would appear. 

Mikey unfolded his legs and leaned forward on the bed, his head hanging dejectedly and his voice cracking with defeat. “But all that training did nothing, Raph. Nothing. When Clay really needed me… I wasn’t there. I couldn’t help her.”  

Mikey’s voice broke, and he dropped his face into his hands. “When I close my eyes… I still see her stupid smiling face as she lays there...broken on that roof. All because I was too slow! I was too slow.”  

His breath shuddered in his chest, making his shoulders tremble with the movement. Mikey ground the heel of his hand into his eyes to stop the tears that had started to fall down his face. In doing so he removed the orange mask around his eyes and Raph’s eyes widened with sickening horror as he saw the raw black circles that circled around Mikey’s bloodshot exhausted eyes.

 “I can’t sleep dude. No matter how exhausted I am after training, I can’t sleep. I still see her in my dreams and … I can’t help but think…” Mikey’s voice trembled, and he raised a shaking hand to his mouth. “That if I really was the ninja she thought I was... if I  moved just a little faster… I could have... she…she would still be here.” 

A strangled keening came from Mikey’s throat at his confession and he hunched forward, sobbing brokenly into his hands. 

The reservoir that he had so carefully built around his heart had finally broken. The pain, the memories, the aching in his heart was too raw and Mikey felt the waves of guilt and shame washed over him, threatening to drag him down to drown into the full depths of his despair. 

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he didn't care. He deserved this. He deserved to suffer. Clay was gone because of him! This was his fault. He wasn't enough. He was never enough and so it was ALL his fault. 

Hearing Mikey weep with no hope caused something inside of Raph to snap. He had to do something. Nobody messed with Mikey. Nobody. Not even Mikey himself. Raph’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to roughly grab Mikey by the shoulders.

“Michelangelo, stop that!  You an’ I know betta than anybody else that Clay wasn’t one to sit on the sidelines!“  Raph growled, causing Mikey to start at Raph’s sudden roughness, and stared at him with wide tearstained eyes. 

“You know she’s as self sacrificing as Leo is. When she saw somethin’, she did somethin’ ! An‘ there was nothin’ you or I could do about it.” 

Raph looked at Mikey hard in the eyes and leaned forward to poke him in the chest. “Now you listen here, Clay made her choice that night on the roof. She chose to risk her life to save you. We have to respect that she knew what she was doin’. Whether we like it or not.” 

Mikey looked away shaking his head with a frantic hiccup, and the anger deflated out of Raph like a popped balloon at the sound. Now was not the time to be rough. Mikey was hurting, and getting mad at him wasn’t going to help.

Raph let out a sigh and his fingers flexed with anxious energy where he held Mikey’s shoulder.

“I’m no good with this word stuff, Mikey, so Ima tell you a little somethin’ Clay told me cuz you know she’d say it betta.” 

Raph gave Mikey a small crooked smile before continuing. “The only reason we is good as a team is because we brothas first. An’ Mikey, we ain’t been a team since you’ve been gone.” 

Raph tightened his hold on Mikey’s shoulders, and leaned in a little closer, trying to meet Mikey’s tear stained eyes. Hisvoice was unnaturally soft as he murmured, “I know you’s hurtin’ and you have every right to be hurt right now... We all lost somethin’ special when we lost Clay. You more than anybody, but don’t you see?

That’s why we need you, Mikey.” 

Mikey blinked at that and looked up at Raph in surprise as if he wasn't sure if he heard his brother correctly. Raph gave his little brother a sad but surprisingly understanding smile before reaching up to yank Mikey into a fiercely tight hug. 

Mikey let out a squawk of surprise as he suddenly was engulfed by the giant hulking mess of his big brother, pressed tightly against his plastron. He hiccuped again, trembling slightly with unease of his big bad brother suddenly showing a very rare softer side. 

Raph took in a deep breath, not really caring about Mikey’s discomfort as only a caring big brother can do and gently rested his chin on Mikey’s shoulder. He lightly knocked his head against Mikey’s and muttered, “Clay’s right. What we have is special; you are what makes this team special. An’ it just ain’t the same without you. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve really enjoyed kicking your shell an’ helping you train, but I miss my little brotha.”  

Mikey went still in Raph’s arms as he tried to grasp his head around what Raph had just said. His tired brain couldn't seem to hold onto any thread of thought as one tiny, foolish spark of hope ignited in his heart. He wasn't…Raph didn't mean…

When it finally sunk in, when he realized what Raph was really tryin to say, Mikey couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. He let out a small wail and buried his face in his brother’s shoulder, his fingers coming to claw onto his brother's rough and scared shell, clinging on to Raph’s hug for dear life. 

Mikey wept, letting months of built up anguish finally be felt as tears poured like rain down his face onto Raph’s shoulder. Just simply crying as a boy who mourns for the loss of his best friend.

Raph’s face winced in pain as he heard Mikey continue to cry, but he knew that Mikey needed to get this out if he was ever going to get any better. So Raph just tightened his hold around his little brother, one of his hands coming to gently cup the back of Mikey’s neck to pull him more securely into the protection of his arms.

They just sat there together for a little while, Raph waiting for Mikey’s sobs to quiet down before quietly whispering in Mikey’s ear, “We’re not askin’ you to stop hurtin’, Mikey. Alls we is askin’ is to let us help you bear this pain.”  

Raph pulled back to look Mikey in the straight in the eyes and tightly squeezed his shoulder to let Mikey know that he meant what he said.

“As a team.”  

Raph lowered his head and rested his forehead against Mikey’s with a determined whisper. 

“As brotha’s.”

oh anon-chan, this is so good!! my heart, poor mikey 😭😭😭

@justalotoffanfiction you were looking for mikey inspo, the people have provided!!

#oh god i’m so soft for raph being a good big brother #talking tag #long post #tmnt

[a-gal-with-taste]

Audacity of Rescue

A/N: Got some inspiration from this little fic from @chickenparm, that may or may not be on my religiously-read list, don't judge me, I can only IMAGINE what y'all got on yours-

Warnings: SFW; Crack only taken semi-seriously, kidnapping, rescue, power-dynamics, boss-employee relationship, rom-com/pre-slash if you squint, little bit of fluff, maybe one or two bootie-smacks & Silco finally shutting the fuck up

The proper response to your employer getting kidnapped is, rightfully, shock. No matter how high or low the pay, no matter if they are a decent boss or sent from hell itself, you would at the very least be shocked, if someone burst through the door, and announced that your boss had been kidnapped.

When it's Silco, however, the response is less shocked, and a bit more perplexed. Confused. Baffled, really, because... Silco had been kidnapped?

Even on your way to the warehouse in question, where your fellow henchman swore this was where he tracked the carriage, you can't help but turn again to Dustin, "You're sure?"

The confirmation, the fourth of the evening, doesn't erase your disbelief, even as your mind shifted into action-mode as Sevika gave the order to burst into the building, taking on the group by comeplete surprise, though not enough that they didn't leave more than a few bruises and scars. Sevika finally got tired of getting no further than the main floor, and snarled at you to go search out the Eye of Zaun.

Bewildered at the concept of the situation indeed, you hadn't hesitated to dash off in search of your employer.

It wasn't that your boss seemed untouchable, there was more than enough proof that the man was as mortal as anyone on the right-side of his face. But a kidnapping just seemed so... vulnerable. You'd never dare say it to his face, valuing your life over speaking your mind so openly, but the idea of the Eye of Zaun, head distributor of Shimmer, kingpin, King, and... well, the idea that it was Silco that had been shoved into a carriage, and driven off in the dead of night, just seemed utterly absurd.

About as absurd as the physical image of Silco was, with ankles crossed and tied while arms were pinned beneath him, writhing on the ground of the warehouse with muted grunts and snarls.

Muted, because clearly he had tried to talk his way out of the situation, and had gotten a gag for his trouble.

Silco. Bound, fuming and gagged.

It was the most absurd thing you had ever witnessed, and instead of more-appropriately reacting with shock of finding your boss tied up & gagged, you reacted instead at the bizarreness of entire situation of it-being Silco in such a predicament.

And you reacted, by laughing.

It was just a snort, short and sudden, but it had been enough for the man laying on the ground to snap his attention over to you. Unmatched eyes burned holes, with the fiery rage of an untamed sea, and the burning pits of hell itself. Rightfully, being caught in the attention of the Eye was infamous, but the pure venom in the way that Silco glared at you now, was quickly proving that both of the man's eyes could be just as deadly...

But then your eyes slipped from his, and caught sight of the gag again.

And another snort slipped out your nose, your hand reaching up to try and cover the noise. Though it wasn't hiding the unconscious, unhelpful curl growing on your lips, "I'm... so sorry."

The glare helped to stiffle it as you stepped closer over to the tied man, though even though his mixed-colored gaze was nothing short of furious, you found yourself biting your bottom lip as you ran your gaze down Silco's body, taking in his helpless state.

"By Janna, I just... I can't believe this is the world we live in," The next snicker also slipped out without permission, as you took note of the little half-bow knotted at his ankle. Another laugh tumbled from your lips, but this time actually provoked by what sounded like a suspiciously muffled 'shut up.'

Forcing your mind to remember exactly who this was, and the fact that your life was now on a timed-limit due to your initial outburst, you took your time to crouch down beside the trussed-up kingpins legs, reaching for the thick rope round around him.

Legs shifted just out of your reach, and your face deadpanned as you glared up at him.

Normally, when one met the enraged and defensive eyes of Silco, they'd be quick to look away. Consitering the shift in power-dynamics, you didn't even give him the courtesy of blinking, "Silco, come on. We're not drag this out more than necessary." If he seemed surprised at the sudden use of his name, in comparison to the 'boss' and 'sir' titles you usually used, he didn't react beyond a distrustful narrowing of his full-remaining eye until it was a mere slit.

A small sigh passed your lips, and you raised an unimpressed brow at him. "Do you want me to help, or do you want me to call in someone else?" You could already see the bastard start to nod, and added dryly. "Because, keep in mind, that's just another person whose going to see you like this. I plan to keep my mouth closed, you really trust everyone else to do the same?"

It wasn't that you particularly cared wheter or not someone-else took control of getting the Eye of Zaun freed, and spared him from further indignity at this predicament. But you knew the group too well, and though most would value their continuing employment, well-being, and state of living, drink flowed too well through your fellow lackeys.

You prided yourself on keeping this particular image to yourself, even after hitting more than a couple extra beers in the future. Not only as a humorous pick-up on your lowest days, to chuckle at when things seemed grim, but also because...

Well, deadly glare, less-than-ideal circumstance and wholly inappropriate-timing aside, the sight of Silco gagged was a mental image you rather selfishly wanted all for yourself.

Of course, you didn't dare voice that aloud, nor ever planned to. Had to keep professional. "If I wanted you dead or harmed, Silco, I would've done it by now." You point out with a frown, again gesturing to his bound legs, with both eyes darting briefly to catalog your every movement. "I know it's an extremely difficult concept for you but... trust me? Trust me to help you. If only to prevent my own demise." You added, not daring to overextended yourself by thinking your relationship went so far as trust.

Expecting another muffled round of snappish, probably sarcastic commentary, you were surprised when Silco instead reacted more cooperatively, shifting slightly on the bound arms beneath him to plop gold-tinged boots atop your own. Ignoring the expectant look from him, you muttered out a dry, "Well, thank you, your highness," and chose to focus on the knot-work instead of the low, warning grumble he offered in response.

Running your fingers on the thick, firm knot just above his ankles, you let out a small swear that had him tense. "These are good," You admitted, managing to wiggle a finger between pants and tight-rope and swear again when it didn't even budge. It made sense then, why Silco hadn't already gotten himself out of this situation. Knots tied too-well, and, judging by slightly ruffled clothing and crooked outturned-pockets, no equipment to saw through the bindings. You paused a beat, than, slightly sheepishly as you remember that you also weren't equipped for this, you quietly added, "Too good, actually... and I don't have a knife."

A questioning shout all but exploded behind the mouth-bit, and you frowned, "Well, sorry, but carrying a knife isn't a part of the official work-syllabus, now is it?" A bit surprised at yourself with how easy it was to snark and sass him, you caught the glint of shock in his teal eyes, just as you heard a distant, muted sound of warming, before the building gave a sudden shake. It went along nicely with the sound of an explosion.

"Great, looks like the fights starting to get juicy," You comment nonchalantly, knowing that you really were on a time-limit now as you reached over to curl your fingers around the lapels of Silco's vest. This immediately earned you two heels of booted feet, that nearly sent you sprawled onto your back.

He obviously wasn't able to say much, but the kingpin managed to work his teeth around the bit in his mouth to let out something that sounded close to, "What are you doing?"

"Again, believe or not, boss, helping." Hiding the sudden ache the new bruise gave you, you stared Silco dead in the eyes with a glare in your own. "There's a back door, and I got keys. We sneak you out, into the car, and back to the Last Drop before Sevika decides my scouting is taking too long."

Sevika would probably keep her mouth shut about this incident, if she were to walk through the doors right now. It would probably be easier, in fact, to run out and flag down Sevika from where she was knocking heads together, and cut out the middle man entirely by slashing the crimelord free.

But you knew it was highly likely that Silco's first act upon being free, would be to erase any and all memory of this humiliating incident. Which would likely result in your neck being snapped before you could blink, and so, for self-preservation reasons, this was a to remain a solo-operation.

The gag was just a bonus, as you really didn't want an ongoing string of commentary to go along with bending down to pick up the man by his vest, and haul the surprisingly-heavy leader of the Undercity onto one shoulder. Grateful for the extra muscle you'd built over the time with his gang, because although the man couldn't weigh 20 pounds soaking wet, it was still a weight you had to brace yourself for.

It didn't help that he decided to start wiggling. And yelling, loudly, from around the mouth-bit.

You imagine he wasn't muttering out praise and appreciation behind that gag, and found your irritation rising when you had to readjust him before he fell off, again, in his rather childish struggles.

"Oh, would you just...!" You don't know why it's almost instinctive, what you do next. Not much time to question it really, though, if Silco let's you survive the night, you imagine you would spend a fair bit standing in front of the mirror, glaring into the mirror-image of yourself.

To try and figure out what on earth possessed you to silence your boss's muffled complaints, growls and barrage of threats, by reaching a hand up, and swatting his ass.

For a moment, you think the rather light, if sharp blow, might've killed him.

Besides an immediate jerk at the tap, Silco goes stiller than death on your shoulder, and twice as quiet, to the point where you wondered if you were now rescuing a rigid corpse instead of a living man.

Then Silco started growling. This was different from his previous snarls, as this one was clearly wordless behind the gag, and in an unbroken, continuous stream of feral fury behind that gag.

But you found you couldn't care less, and the ability the gag gave you to freely speak without fear of immediate rebuke, made you even bolder. "Oh, shut up."

You enunciated your scowl with a small hike-up, further settling the tied kingpin over your shoulder, and not exactly being delicate with digging your shoulder-blade into his gut. "I'm rescuing you, boss. Something I could do more easier if you stopped squealing like a pissed-off feral rat every two seconds-"

The man indeed begin to sound rather rat-like through the cover over his mouth at that particular comment, and your audacity apparently knew no bounds in this situation.

Your hand flashed up, again, delivering another smack to his backside with the flat of your palm.

There was a small, muffled squeak, then blessed silence and stillness.

"Seriously," You hissed at him the moment he went quiet, body visibly shaking with anger. "Believe it or not, I'm trying do you a favor. Do you want half your force to come running and see you like this? Do you want an audience for this, Silco?" Perhaps it was the knowledge that, for your multiple indiscretions, you now faced a slow and painful death at his discretion, that made you unfearing of the man for whatever time he had left.

Unfearing, yes. But maybe, just maybe, you felt a bit of sympathy. You couldn't imagine this was a fun position to be in, and there were rumors of how Silco came to be, well... Silco.

"This never happened," You said, and bit more quietly and passively, as you made slower and careful adjustments onto your shoulder, bracing yourself against a wall to stand up fully with the added weight over a shoulder. All a bit more slowed and calculated, so he could anticipate; you hoped, when Silco inevitably came to strangle you, he would take the show of consideration on his behalf in mind. "We go to base, get you settled like nothing happened and we never bring it up again. Alright?"

Again, you had to wonder if the second-smack to his backside to shut him up, might've killed him again.

Remaining still and silent, you counted several seconds before the man relaxed a fraction. More akin to steel turning to hard-stone in comparison to actually relaxing, but it was an improvement nonetheless that made you smile slightly at the progress, and made it easier to start walking away from the fight, and to the back-exit.

You couldn't help but snort though, when you heard a muffled sentence as you walked out the backdoor with the tied crimelord slung over one shoulder like a slim, irate bag of flour.

"No, I think I'll leave that gag in," Again, a long glare in the mirror was due for when you got home, for what you said next. Well, if you survived the night long enough to get back home. "It's a good look on you, Silco."

The man got one more kick in, as you dropped him off in the passenger seat of the carriage. Despite the growing bruise, you couldn't help but bite your lower lip to hide a chuckle at the telling fact, that he waited until he was seated in the vehicle to lash out.

-

"Hey, Thieram!" Being one of the few remaining who occasionally used his legitimate name instead of the new nickname floating about, the bartender of The Last Drop acknowledged you with a bit more comradory.

That is, until he saw you walking into the empty Underground bar with his boss in your arms. Then, Thieram promptly dropped a glass.

"I'll pay off Ran's tab, if you promise to forget seeing this," You said sweetly after you caught your breath, if only to try and get the guy to look at you instead of gapping like a fish, for his own good. Looking down at the bound crimelord in your bridal-carry wasn't necessary, you could feel the heat of his murderous glare without even needing to be the central target. "...Thieram."

Arms were starting to strain under the weight of the lanky, Undercity's unofficial ruler in your arms, by the time he responded.

"Uh-huh?"

"Seriously, just do yourself a favor, forget you saw this." You said as you turned to the stairs, glaring up at each step before sighing, readjusting your tiring-grip. Gods knew you were already going to end up dead for this, you didn't want to know what your fate would be if you actually dropped the Eye of Zaun. "I'll pay Ran's tab, and he might just let you see morning."

That seemed to get him moving again, as you soon heard the telling scrape of broom-bristles quickly catching broken glass on the floor.

"He's won't say a thing, he'll sooner gurgle that glass than open his mouth," You muttered as you made your way up the stairs, back to the bannister for support before, after an eternity of climbing, you made it up to the second floor. A short breathing break, before you backed yourself into the room with a small kick, shutting the door behind you.

You managed to have enough strength in your growing-numb arms to set the man down in a slightly dignified way, nudging his feet onto the couch seat with your knee the moment your arms finally got a break. "Would you kill me if I went for a water-break?"

You couldn't help the small eyeroll when you only got a glare in response, adding fuel to the fire of his dual-colored gaze when he leaned his head towards you, turning to expose the back-buckle of the gag, and you only scoffed. "I don't need you monologuing on top for everything, just sit-tight for a couple more minutes."

Biting the inside of your cheek at the little joke wasn't helping matters, for Silco caught it immediately and narrowed his good-eye while the other flamed. To be spare from further scorching, you turned and headed to his desk, returning a minute later with not only a letter-opener; which was carefully placed down and set in-sight, but also a compact.

"Figure we got a five minute head-start on the rest of the team. If you want to look presentable, and not like you were just rescued from being tied and dumped on the ground of a warehouse, I can help with that," You offered, waving the compact slightly while his eyes flicked to it, than back to your face, a hint of confusion in the cutting glances. You could only shrug, appearing nonchalant. "It'll show you're unphased by this incident, like it doesn't even effect you. The guys will probably follow suit, and everyone will forget it much sooner."

Understanding shone briefly in his bright eye, but it took him another minute before he turned his cheek to show you the dark one, and hence, the side with ruined makeup and exposed scars.

This surprised you, but for the sake of letting him keep some of his grace, you only sat yourself on the edge of the couch, and didn't comment on the show of... well, not trust, because you could see both eyes trained wholly on you as you coated the small makeup-pad in the flesh-toned material. But at the very least, he didn't jerk away when you leaned over to start applying it to his skin.

"... First time I met you, you were doing this," You muttered, so quietly you thought he hadn't heard. Too focused on making sure the only thing touching the scars was the pad, you blinked when you finally heard the questioning hum. "Oh, uh," Swallowing, finally beginning to remember who this was, you felt a bit awkward recalling the memory. One that, judging by the slight perplexation under the irritation, he had little memory of. "Right when I joined up, Sevika brought me in to help deliver a report... you barely looked at me, too focused on application, or your reflection."

You got another short glare for your slight joke, which flickered out soon when your finger brushed beneath the lidless eye. An apology was quietly, quickly given, before you continued your work in silence.

Neither you or him pointed out the fact that your motions were a bit more clumsy, but somewhat matching in his own applicant technique. Silco, out of his condition, and you, out of self-preservation, or at least, as much as he would allow to be spared once he got his hands on you.

"There we go, good as new." Quick to snap the compact close and set it aside, your hand seemed automatic to reach up, and smooth back the errant strands of hair that had fallen from the ordeal. Even you knew that was much too far, and snatched your hand back the moment you realized what you were doing, letting out a weak chuckle as you avoided the burning gaze given to your face, "See, not a hair out of place."

The subject of your morality, and the fact that it would likely be ending soon, was becoming clearer by the minute. You couldn't even begin to list out all the things you had done this evening, that you knew for a fact had been carefully cataloged for reference when, inevitably, your demise came.

Still, you hoped some goodwill was spared for when the time came, as you made sure Silco had full view of you reaching for the sharp-enough letter opener, before you shuffled to the other end of the couch. Glancing up to meet his gaze, Silco's human eye glanced down from where he'd been watching your expression, to your hands and choice of cutting-material.

There's a beat, then a short controlled nod, before you felt allowed to lower it.

You hadn't wanted to openly shuffle around his desk, but you wish you had done so when you really had to press down in order to start sawing through the layer of bindings. Finally, it broke open enough for you to set the blade to the side, and tug the rest of it off of him. A pause, before you placed your fingers on his ankles. When they weren't jerked away, or kicked at you in newfound mobility, you slowly rubbed your fingers through the end of his dark pants-legs in order to circulate the nerves of his legs.

"Numbess?" You murmured, glancing up at him and managing another quirk of your lips after you met his unreadable gaze. "Can you wiggle your toes?"

Ah; there's the kick.

It's more of a nudge than anything, but gets the point across for you to hurry up. Silco is visibly tensing, shoulders turning squared after you, with growing hesitancy, place a palm there but he turns at the silent request.

You don't move your hand, even as you settle on your knees beside him in the couch, eyeing the knot at his wrist before squeezing your other hand on his shoulder, as you grab the knife. "I'm going to start cutting now, Silco," You murmured, feeling his eyes watching the knife unblinkingly until it goes out of his peripheral. A beat, then you feel him jerk beneath your thumb as it starts to run in small circles through his shirt, just as you place the blade to the ropes.

You don't pat yourself on the shoulder for this pitiful excuse of reassurance. And so you tell yourself you're only imagining the smallest, slightest hint of tension leaving his body, as you rub your thumb into a particularly tight muscle.

Perhaps he's just glad to be rid of his bind, you say, feeling dread start to truly coil within you as the last few binds start to snap, exposing reddened but thankfully uncut wrists. Or he's relaxing, because he's preparing to pounce and tear out your throat the moment he's free.

Oddly, it's the third option that gives you the most reassurance. The first two just open too many more questions for you to properly ponder... not that there's any time left to do so, for the final knot comes apart with a snap.

Immediately, you quickly drop the letter-cutter onto the ground beside the couch, again in full-view of Silco as you half-heartedly shuffle back on the couch, braced for his fingers to curl around your neck as you hear him grunt when he moves his hands up to the front of his body.

Throat feeling dry as you watch fingers curl, than stretch out to their full-length, the Eye of Zaun moves his hands up himself to the back of his head, fingers slipping along the leather-band before finding the buckle.

Your teeth grind slightly when you see the saliva dribble out, the bit in his mouth coated in the stuff at his removal. You have to glance away when you see him slowly work his jaw back to life, reaching up and, a little less elegantly, dragging the back of his wrist and sleeve across his mouth to catch whatever wasn't dripping off the gag...

Looking away, you find out quickly, was a potentially fatal mistake.

"Listen to me." You can't even nod when the hand snatchs around your throat, not yet clenching to drain you of life. But you imagine the fingers curled around, and the thumb pressing firmly just at the top-base of your throat, isn't meant to be a sign of comfort as Silco glowers directly into your eyes. Cyan has now turned icy, and even the hellish-red looks cold at he glares at you, merely inches apart. For a moment, you think the ice in his gaze might kill you faster than his strangle on you will, considering how ever part of you freezes as your wide eyes stay locked on him.

"... Nothing. Happened."

For a moment, there's no air.

Then, you take the small bit of mercy for what it is, and somehow manage to move your head in something that must've translated as a nod of understanding, for he only holds you to his face for another moment, than releasing you. He didn't squeeze, but you feel the need to suck in your next breath anyway, watching him lean down almost gracefully, to gather the remains of his bonds.

"Throw these out, and get out of my base."

"Sir, I have work-"

"Ah, so now you remember who you are working for?"

There's no real way to reply to that, so you quickly click your mouth shut as the Industrialist stands from the couch, pausing for a minute as he rolls his shoulders back. You hear a few pops, and a low, drawn out sigh of ease from the man before he turns, looking down at you in a once-more unreadable way.

"If I find a need for you," Silco said slowly - and a bit hoarsely, you noticed suddenly. "... then I'll come get you. Until then, you'll find it in your best interest to keep to the streets."

It was clear this wasn't the end. Even if your employer just made it clear that no memory of the incident was to extend past this room, nor be repeated by its two current occupants, it was clear it was something he was not going to forget entirely.

That, didn't terrify you.

What scared you half to death, was the fact that he looked like he was still debating how best to respond to your actions tonight, even as he silently tossed the cut-cords into your lap. You wasted only a beat when he jerked his chin to the door, and quickly stood, snatching them tight in your arms and keeping your lips pressed firmly closed as you started to the door.

Foolishly, you wondered how much of a heads-start you could get, though you'd doubt you'd ever be able to run from the overruling kingpin of Zaun. But at the very least, an extended-vacation might be a decent enough idea, until his ire (or whatever else he was thinking about in that unreadable gaze of his) finally burned out-

You were snapped from your thoughts by the call of your name, and equally snapped around to face him.

"Don't forget this," Silco said, striding up on only slightly stiff-legs, but his condition isn't what caught and held your attention, but instead, the gag that he dangled on one finger, by the buckle. When he laid it onto the pile of rope in your arms, your eyes could only stare at the still slightly-moist mouthpiece. Even as the kingpin leaned over you to mutter almost offhandedly, in response to your audacity of a rescue this evening, as his knight in less-than-shining-armor:

"And don't go around chatting about the events of tonight. Or else I may have to find a use for that."

-

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#we're getting a little goofy with this fic #i just #really wanted to write about Silco being a damsel in distress #and maybe one or two bootie smacks #just for fun #silco #arcane #arcane silco #silco x reader #silco and reader #sevika #oneshot #maybe #might do a part 2 of this it was fun #my writing #arcane fanfiction #lol arcane #humor #chickenparm religious reading list #everyone has one don't lie #arcane x reader #lol arcane silco

[starshipsofstarlord]

Stuck in 1903

Part Two

Masterlist

Summary: Damon and Bonnie had come to your rescue, or so you thought, but it is Kai’s every intention to get close to you again

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Warnings: angst, smidge of fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of death, mentions of murder, bad friendships, mentions of poison, swearing

Word Count: 2052

Find Part One Here

divider by @firefly-graphics

If the Other Side continued to exist, then you would be there rather than this subordinate prison world which had been designed for one bad witch. Kai's own kind feared him, you had experienced him mentally draining your energy, he was a chore to put up with, but he could do much more than that, you had learnt from Bonnie. He fed off magic, physically stealing it from bodies and items that harboured any of it, which had poisoned his mind to hunt for power. Your friends had informed you that he had murdered his siblings, well some of them anyway, and had attempted to do so to more of them. And now you knew, with supporting evidence, never to trust Malakai Parker.

Without Damon and Bonnie you had to resort to fending for yourself, which was not at all difficult since this version of Mystic Falls that you were trapped in was quite literally a ghost town. The forever enveloping silence was torture, though the method of ignorance had not been designed for you; it was all for Kai, and that unsettled you. There was one more thing that you had been dreading - the possibility that you could not escape from the remote isolation without the aid of the guest starring siphon himself. This hell was built to contain him for eternity, but now there was magic that he could use to his own advantage nearby.

Your cheek rested upon the side of your hand, mushing the flesh whilst your elbow was poised upon the countertop of the kitchen island in the Salvatore house. All of your concentration validated your deep thoughts, of which you were broken from as a plate was placed directly in front of you, a pancake decorated with chocolate chips and syrup to form a smiley face. Damon was the culprit as he threw a tea towel over his shoulder, expectedly looking at you.

"I'm not hungry." You informed the vampire, who simply frowned at your lack of an appetite. "I ate yesterday, which was technically today." Beneath the table, you crossed your ankles, as you earnt a sigh from your well aged friend; he clearly was not impressed by your behaviour. But you didn't know what he had expected from you, you had been trapped here for longer than you could remember, and alone until you had discovered the man that had been outcast by his own family. At the time you had not known of his murderous tendencies, and had wanted nothing more than to get away from him, and you wouldn't like to admit it but you even missed him a little.

He was annoying and cocky, and withheld crucial information from you, though there was something that contradicted that all. Whenever any one of your friends had suffered the fate of death, they were always attempted to be brought back to life against the natural order of things. It made you wonder and doubt a little if they had even tried to resurrect you. In this separated reality, there was no jurisdiction so that you could know, though each time that either Damon or Bonnie looked at you, you could swear that there was guilt written in their gazes.

"Look I knew being stuck here with Kai must have fucked you up-" he should have bit his lip, his assumptions were anything but correct. And that was proven as you defensively darted out of your seat and jabbed your finger in his face, making him pivot his jaw back. There were many things that were 'fucked up', and supposing that you were one of them because you had died after sacrificing yourself to ensure that they all continued to live just didn't settle right with you. The context of the morbid situation did not help with condoning any reassurance at all, in fact, it gave a spine to your lack of faith in him and the others in the first place. Out of everyone, it was inherently worse to be here with Damon, all he had cared about was his precious Elena as well as himself, and after existing for well over a century, that was insurance that he was never going to change.

"It wasn't him who did that to me, it was roaming this damned place by myself, I had no one. And as crazy as it sounds, I think spending time with the notorious Malakai Parker helped me keep what was to spare of my sanity. If I'm not wrong, I may even say that I've found more being here than dealing with the bullshit y'all cause back home." Perhaps your words were a tad harsh, if Bonnie were in the room you were sure that she'd have a somewhat understanding of what you were saying. Though she was not, and thus you had to deal with the harshness of her best friend all by your lonesome. And it seemed that you had rattled him, apparently he couldn't handle the truth.

"Then why don't you run back to the sociopath? When we discovered that you were here, we found the pair of you attached to the hip anyways. And with him inside of you, I'd never seen you so darn happy, better here with him than tempting me to drink bleach from the way that you constantly complained when you were alive; I swear you were worse than Donovan." It was on your mind's own command for you to take a step back, and away from the toxin that Damon had so cruelly spat at you. Ans the way that he compared you to Matt made you angry; it was though he were ignoring that there were valid reasons for the blond to be the way that he was - after all, the monster before you had practically killed his sister. A laugh renegaded out from your mouth as you realised that you had been right all along, none of them cared. You were just a burden that stopped them from having a perfect life together. If this were a book, then this would be the beginning to your villain arc, and ironically enough Damon saw himself as one of the good guys. Now that was utterly ridiculous after every reckless thing that he had ever done!

"Have it your way then bloodsucker." All along, you should have trusted your guy, and from now on you knew that you would listen to it. And strangely enough, it was calling you to Kai, maybe it was because he was your last resort to escaping this imprisonment that had been meant for him alone. Turning on your heel, you heard Damon flop the towel down on the side and sigh, though you continued to walk, appeasing your better judgement elsewhere. "Wait." He tried to convince you to stay, belatedly understanding the mistake that he had made, but it was no use, you were already on your journey of getting as far away as possible from him.

The Mystic Grill, it remained to be familiar in your eyes as you entered. It was empty and void of drunken assholes and narcissists that you had wasted too much time on. The only person that you missed in the modern alternative was Matt Donovan, he was the only person that didn't treat you as though you were invisible or a nuisance. You wondered how he was coping with your absence, knowing him, he was probably relieved that Damon was gone. But you weren't, because he was here with you instead. Trailing your fingertips over the counter of the bar, out of the corner of your eye you saw a lonely glass of bourbon that was sat there as though it were lamenting you with mockery. You tried to hold your sentimental sob inside, but it was practically impossible. It tore through your body, bellowing out from your mouth as you stifled and fought through your tears.

A hand caressed the landscape of your back causing you to jump and flinch from the unexpected contact. One thing that you had learnt from evading and eventually experiencing the qualms of death, was that you could never be too careful. For no more than a second you had predicted that the intruder to your pity party was Damon, that he had followed you as you tried to distance yourself from him, but alas it was not, instead of being greeted by a fretless vampire, you were condemned by the sight of a powerless witch, of whom had purposely interjected your moment of cracked emotion and wore a brave smile for you. Wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeves, you couldn't help but snap at him. "If you're here to finish what we started then tough luck Parker, you've been here long enough and you have two hands, figure something else out."

His tongue darted out to swipe at his own bottom lip, as he raised his hand, showcasing his offering to you. "I was only going to see if you wanted a pork rind, you look like you could use one." Sighing, you dug your hand into the pungent packet that was littered with dust and crumbs, retrieving a few treats for yourself as you placed them in your mouth. "And now should be when the poison kicks in..." With your hand, you gave him a little shove as you tolled your eyes at his homicidal comedy. "Come on, that was funny! I'm funny!"

"If you say so, there's not very many people around to give you an honest opinion." It was true, the only other human like lifeforms impartially close by were Damon and Bonnie, and well, you weren't going to scurry back to them anytime soon. "And if you had poisoned me, then you would know that I would be fine and dandy in not so long, It wouldn't make a difference if that wasn't the case either, I mean I'm already dead, what could be worse than that?" Kai looked at you with shock; he didn't know that about you, that you had actually suffered a final breath. Now he thought about it, the grand scheme of things he didn't know much about you in general, though he was prepared to learn. He had often found death to be fulfilling, satisfying even, but he'd never thought about its victims being so beautiful. Yet here you were before him, by chance the one force that could motivate and help him find a way out of this jarring hole of reaping misery.

"You're here, that's all that matters." As soon as those words fled from his lips he realised exactly what he had said, and a blush framed his features. "I um - that wasn't what I - you know, yeah..." He scratched the back of his neck as you shook your head at this new side that you were seeing of Malakai. His parents called him Malakai, of course he was going to become a killer, but right now you saw nothing more than an embarrassed boy whose skin had flushed as an affect of his own words. From your experience, everyone was either the killer or the killed - you two were one of each. Like ying and yang, you fit perfectly, it was a balanced divide that was settled on whichever rhythm played out in the air. And to correspond with that thought you walked over to the jukebox, a song beginning to play which made Kai want to cover his ears. "I hate this song." He told you; he really did, if he could murder it, he would without a doubt.

"Then don't listen, just dance with me." You extended your hands out to him, to which he begrudgingly reached for. And as he snapped his eyes open, he realised that was all a memory, and that goddamn song was still playing. All he could think about was you, he had seen how upset you had been to die, and yet you were gone again, and it was all down to your so called friends. One was standing before him as he sat in chains, imprisoned against a chair. "Are you here to punish me?" He asked Bonnie, wanting nothing more than shut his eyes and see your face again.

#kai parker one shot #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #kai x y/n #kai x you #kai imagine #kai parker x you #kai parker #kai parker fic #kai parker fanfic #kai parker angst #kai parker fluff #tvdreader #tvd imagines #tvdimagine #tvd imagine #tvd one shot #tvd fanfiction #tvd x reader #vampire diaries x reader

[gaiuswrites]

World's Best

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader

Summary: Not every day is easy. Frankie makes it better.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 2.2k~

Warnings/tags: smut, vague-ish descriptions of depression/mental health, hurt/comfort, fluff

Notes: Do y'all ever get into a funk and then attempt to write yourself out of one? Well, this is the v self-indulgent product of said instance heh. I have tagged a random assortment of potentionally interested people but obvi no pressure? idk? :) Sending so much love and well wishes to you guys. x

Masterlist | Read it on Ao3!

A sea of knotted sheets spans between you—as tangled as your legs—too tired, too leaden to unweave. The fan rotates in the corner, blowing stale air your way every few clicks. You dangle a foot off the bed, skin prickling as the weak breeze sweeps over you and a bead of sweat licks from your knee to slope down your calf. Morning sun leaks through the window— the finch perched on the tree just outside it chirping once, twice, before flitting off.

You’ve been reading the Sunday paper for a solid twenty minutes—which, in all honesty, is an overstatement; you started and quickly abandoned the Sudoku after a measly ten, and you’ve been staring at the same sentence in the local section for the other half, blinklessly hovering over the fine print.

You’re not here today. Not all of you.

There’s this sinking feeling, hollowing you out and unmaking you. It’s as if something unseeable is oozing over you - dripping - something treacle, something thick. You’re far away from yourself—far from the cornflower blue walls and the framed photos hanging on them—the happy faces in the pictures smiling back at you— far from the plants basking in the tines of filtered light by the sill, far from the body lying beside you.

You’re not always this way. Not every day drags like an inky smear, your mind meandering sluggishly in circles, holding you hostage in a prison of your own making; but you can’t say it’s foreign to you either. It’s old, familiar—like that sweater in your closet you’ve had for centuries and rarely wear, but can’t bring yourself to get rid of. You know it well, this slog—you have unwillingly memorized it’s sodden intricacies, and today you feel it. You feel every single one of your days—each grey hour— weighing heavy on your very bones.

heavy heavy

heavier, still.

If you’re not careful, you’ll sink straight through the mattress. You’ll nestle deep into the springs and make a home in the down. You’ll sleep there until you become it. Comfortable. Catatonic.

Frankie sips his coffee. He doesn’t look up from the email he’s skimming. “What’s wrong?”

The baritone of your boyfriend’s voice sucks you back to the present—to the tick of the clock marking the seconds, the whir of the fan. The paper crinkles as you lay it to your chest—big eyes feigning ignorance as you blink up at him, chewing your lip. “Hmm?”

“Baby, I know that face.”

“What face?”

“The one you’ve got on,” he replies, “that’s your ‘I’m-upset-and-I’m-trying-to-hide-it’ face.’”

“I-” you frown, “no it’s not.” Gingerly, you pat a hand around your temple, your cheek, as if you could see your expression through touch.

“Uh huh.” Frankie rolls his digit upon the mousepad, clicking and scrolling down the webpage, and your vision glazes over again—ugly thoughts fogging up the panels of your mind—

“You gonna talk to me about it?”

You blink, swallowing, “nothing to talk about.” You flap the paper, ironing out the pleats, and scan for that pesky paragraph you never managed to finish.

“Mhm,” he replies absentmindedly, bringing the mug to his lips and drinking with an all too obvious slurp.

“Really, I’m fine,” you say weakly. You’re not that convincing—you barely convince yourself.

“Sure, sweetheart. If you say so.”

He’s too casual; he’s letting it all go too easily and God, he’s gotten good at this—at coaxing the truth out of you. He doesn’t even have to try any more. He’s so kind and open and sincere, all he has to do is crack the door ajar—tempt you with an inch of space, with only a sliver of leeway—and immediately you want to plunge through it and chase after him, like a dog and a bone.

He makes you want to share; not because of what he says, but by everything he doesn’t—the welcoming gaps he leaves you with, the gaps you’re urged to fill. This happens every time—it’s pretty damn annoying, actually. You’re so miserably predictable. After three and a half years together, sometimes you think Frankie might know you better than you know yourself.

A scary thought—wonderful, too.

“I’m just-” You run a hand over your face, pressing into the bridge of your nose and you grunt, frustrated. Exhausted. “I’m just tired.”

Frankie settles his coffee cup on the hill of his sternum, closing his laptop quietly. He swivels his head to you, hair mussing into the wall.

“Of anything in particular?” he asks, linen soft.

“No, yes—I don’t know,” you heave—an errant thing fluttering around in your chest as you fold the newspaper, letting it float to the floor with a splat. “It’s just-” you worry the inside of your cheek raw, fumbling with the blur of your emotions. You shake your head. “It’s just a bad brain day.” Your voice is small as you slump into him, letting your body go limp.

“I’m sorry I get like this. I’m okay—I’ll be okay,” you mumble, face burrowed into his arm. He smells summered, like sweat and heat and the promise of long days fading into even longer nights, and you take a heady drag, inhaling his scent.

You hear him sigh, stretching as he sets the mug and computer down on the side table. He shifts back to you, snaking an arm under your body as you coil your own around his center, hugging him close.

“You know, it’s alright if you’re not,” Frankie murmurs into your hair, planting a kiss at the crown of your head. “And you know you don’t have to hide from me when you aren’t.” His thumb finds your arm, the chewed nail bed scratching soothing circles along your skin.

Your gut somersaults, flipping and purring, and all you can do is press your lips to the cottoned shoulder of his tee shirt—the one with the holes in the collar and motor oil stain on the hem; all you can do is tighten your grasp, wringing around his cozy waist.

“And you know that nothing you say is gonna scare me away, right? I’m always going to be here for you.” Frankie gives your forearm a reassuring squeeze.

God, this man.

You nuzzle further into his chest—snuggled and swaddled in the safety of his warmth—and you mumble something incoherent, muffled against his relaxed body. His beard catches on your fly-aways as he dips to hear you better. “What was that honey?”

“I said,” you crane your neck, lifting out of his side, “you really are the ‘world’s best uncle’.”

A ripple of confusion twists over his features before you bat your eyes up to meet his, shooting a glance over to that exact phrase wrapping itself around the ceramic cup beside him.

You got stuck with it at some terrible white elephant exchange last Christmas. It’s fucking tacky and aggressively large—not even you - you, in all your caffeine dependency - can chug that much coffee fast enough in one sitting without it going cold— and neither of you have any nieces or nephews to speak of…

Naturally, it’s become your favorite mug.

Frankie barks out a laugh, his stomach flexing against your grasp. “Oh yeah? Is that all I am?” he smirks, a glint of mischievousness reflecting in his irises as he bores down at you.

You quirk an eyebrow, a coy tug blooming across your lips. “I dunno,” you drawl sweetly, “you going to prove me otherwise?”

His face is split into a grin now, wide and aching and unnecessarily endearing. His hair is a mess, wavy tufts jutting out every which way, and his eyelids are still puffy from what little slumber he was lucky enough to get in your hot, cramped apartment.

You really can’t keep putting it off—you need to buy an AC unit.

His focus dances from your eyes to your mouth, breath hitching as he watches you skip your tongue over the plush mound there. “I just might,” he growls playfully, maneuvering you onto your back with one broad swoop, pinning you to the bed.

/

He makes love to you like a man unburdened - untouched - by time. He fucks into you slowly, unhurriedly—at a pace that’s mind numbingly measured and patient. Frankie devastates you, dragging himself through your walls from head to hilt, letting you feel every ridge, every vein of him; filling you up so impossibly well—his thick cock sauntering in and out, and in and out again. Each roll of his hips makes you gasp, his blunt tip brushing against that deep, uncharted chasm within you that tempts you into oblivion. Your legs are locked around him, crossed at the ankles, and the perspiration at the pits of your knees slicks his sides.

Frankie’s palms dimple the fitted sheet as he brackets your head, burying himself into the crook of your neck. He moans—hot breath ghosting over the prickled skin there, babbling disjointed strings of guttural praise into your ear.

Fuck baby—fuck you feel good

How’d I get so lucky, how’d I-

God, you’re a— fuck

You’ve got the perfect pussy—made for me

Made for me, made for me, made for-

You turn your head and capture his mouth with your own, whimpering into him as he nips at your bottom lip and bites. You scrape your fingers through his scalp, pulling at his locks, and Frankie whines a tortured noise—giving an especially hard thrust that pries a yelp from your throat. He rears his head back, catching your gaze, a concerned line creased into his brow. “Y-You okay?”

“No- nono, yes Frankie. Again, right there,” you beg, lashes fluttering.

He darkens—the timbre of his voice made husky and raw as he drinks in the sights and sounds of you mewling for him, splayed and needy. “You like that?” Frankie drives into you again, sharp and searing as he bottoms out, the smattering of curls at the base of him soaked with your gloss. “You need it hard, baby? You want it rough?”

You whimper, clawing desperately at the nape of his neck. “I just—I just want you, all of you,” you pant as you hold his stare—the gorgeous, chestnut gleam of it—and the wordless expression that crests over his features makes you want to cry. The precious indent in his cheek, the stubble littering his jaw, his sculpted nose and clever lips, the sad rings under his eyes—the grooves he thinks you don’t notice, the grooves he tries to mask by always taking care of you, always putting you first, even when he shouldn’t.

Fuck, he’s so beautiful—he’s so beautiful you could weep.

“You have me,” he rasps breathlessly, bowing to meet you in a messy whirl of tongue and teeth before breaking away—forcing himself up off his hands and back onto his shins. He hooks an elbow under your knee, letting the other frame the outside of his hip. “I’m right here—you have me, you have me-”

Frankie’s hips are frantic now, pulsing in short, strong bursts as he grinds into you. He dips a hand to your center, pad of his thumb working erratic, sloppy flicks over the sensitive nub of your swollen clit. Your feet arch, the muscles there constricting as the tension in you mounts.

“Babe.” You’re whining now, vulnerable and shaking and fuck, you’re going to come apart—any moment now, any unbearable second, you’ll snap. “F-Frankie, baby oh god—”

You clamp a hand over your mouth, eyes screwing shut as you shatter. Like a vase crashing onto kitchen tile, you break into a million jagged fragments. Your cunt seizes, legs spasming against him as he fucks you through your orgasm, and it doesn’t take long for the tight contractions of your heat to yank him right off that same ledge. The both of you—tumbling and fracturing into terrible, perfect shards—to be intermingled and scattered among each other’s glass pieces.

Indiscernible. The same.

When you glue yourself back together again, you will find parts of him there - here, within you - filling your jigsawed cracks like golden ore.

Frankie slips out of you with a squelch and a huffed groan, collapsing to the mattress in a panting heap. His cum dribbles from your apex and you shiver at the feeling of it—at the feeling of him, warm and wet and lingering inside you. He rests his cheek on your breast while you both catch your breath—rising, falling. Waxing, waning. Two pitter-pattering hearts beating in time.

The sheets have been sloughed, lazy and forgotten, to a crumpled pile on the wood floor and the steam once rising from the mug on the nightstand has long since disappeared. It’s too muggy for you two to be this entwined—his leg draped over you, a big arm slung across your belly—but neither of you dare move. Neither of you have the energy, never mind the desire.

The clock whispers in the morning quiet.

A new bird claims the branch the finch left—she sings now, roosting there in the birch.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur sleepily, drawing patterns into the valley of his spine, mapping out his freckles and moles and scars. “Thank you,” you say. Thank you for putting up with me, thank you for understanding me, thank you for listening even when I cannot speak. “I love you so much.”

Gently, silently, Frankie tilts his head, bristled hair peppering your flesh as he mattes your skin with his lips; laving along your breasts, across your clavicle and up the plain of your neck—each kiss a response, each kiss a truth.

You don’t have to apologize

You don’t have to thank me

I love you

I love you

I’m right here

I love you

tags:

@pedros-mustache @roxypeanut @frannyzooey @djarinsbeskar @read-and-rec @keeper0fthestars @krissology @greatcircle79

#frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie x you #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fic #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal #fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfic #hurt/comfort #triple frontier

[thefallennightmare]

Time-Prologue

Summary: 1940'S Bucky Barnes x Reader/ Present Bucky Barnes x Reader.

Words: 1087

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, some smut at some point.

Summary: Before the war, Bucky and Reader had the picture perfect life together. When she lost him, she thought that she would never find that kind of love again. However, someone from a different time returns to give her that love once more. Will she follow them through the unknown or come to terms that her once in a lifetime love is truly gone?

A/N: I got my mojo back, y'all. Here is the prologue for my new Bucky fic! The first handful of parts will take place in the 1940's. Tags will be open for this story! Also, I suck at summaries so I apologize.

TAGS: @overthinkinggotmedrinking @igothroughphasesalot @veralyonn @shannonleanna182

APRIL 23, 1945.

The small group stood around the large hole in the ground and the noise of quiet sobs and hushed voices filled my ears. I sat on my chair keeping my eyes trained hard on the casket in front of me. It was closed, not having a cold body lying inside of it, but it still did nothing to my breaking heart. Even though his body was never returned, mostly because it hadn’t been recovered, I could picture him laying in there; eyes sewn shut with his arms over his chest, clutching his dog tags in his hand.

I would like to think that there was a picture of us in the other.

Spring time in Brooklyn had approached fast and the sudden chill and shift in air caused me to pull my jacket closer to my chest.

“He loved you so much, Y/N. You were his everything.”

His mother’s words were deep in my mind, those words replaying over and over. She had been the only thing that kept me going during this hard time, knowing that I had no one else.

“Y/N, honey, it’s time.”

Turning my head up towards the familiar voice, I gave a small smile to Winnifred and with a quick nod, I stood on shaky legs as I made a few steps towards the casket.

My fingers sprawled over the cold wood and even though his body wasn’t physically with me, I could feel his presence around me.

“If only we had more time together. You promised to make an honest woman out of me when you returned. I promise to look after ma and the girls for you as long as you promise to stay with Stevie. I know he changed and doesn’t need you but we don’t know what it’s like on the other side.”

A loud sob got caught on my throat, realizing that I not only lost the love of my life but also my best friend in the matter of a few months.

“I love you so much, James. I’ll see you again soon my love.”

With a soft tap on the casket as a final goodbye, I gave a longing hug to Winnifred, promising to visit her soon, and made the lone walk towards my car on the other end of the parking lot. Thoughts of how much my life had changed the last few days swirled in my mind.

Winnifred had waited months after hearing of Bucky’s death before having a funeral for the hope of receiving his body. We both didn’t want to bury an empty casket but after another night of no good news, I convinced her that we needed to put his soul to rest.

In that time, I had found out that Steve had passed as well in a plane crash. The two most important men in my life were gone so close together and my heart couldn’t take the break and hurt any longer.

“He never had a choice,” I sobbed to myself. “He didn’t want this.”

Bucky never had a say in fighting in the war against the Germans, being drafted. But that didn’t stop the proud smile he wore when he received the news.

“The 107th. I ship out to London first thing tomorrow.”

The night before he left was spent with family and closest friends before it was the two of us, in his twin sized bed. We had to be so quiet so his younger sisters couldn’t hear us. That night he promised to make me an honest woman when he returned; buying a home, getting married, and having a family.

Nothing about his death made any sense to us. The military only said that he had died in the line of duty while working a secret mission that he and Steve had been working on for months prior. Everything about both of their deaths rang a large questioning bell in my brain but I had been overtaken with so much grief that I hadn’t thought to ask more questions.

Rain had started falling from the dark clouds above, mixing with my tears, and as my body continued to shake with the sobs, I heard a loud crack behind me. I didn’t bother turning to look, thinking that it was thunder, but when I heard his deep voice my feet froze in fear.

“Stevie?” I asked through my broken sobs. I hastily wiped away the tears from my eyes, wondering if what I was seeing was actually in front of me.

Everything about the man standing in front of me looked familiar only older; so much older than the last time I had seen him in that bar. Before his life with The Howling Commandos began.

“Wha-? How can you be here?”

“Y/N, you can’t get in that car,” Steve reached for my hand.

I smacked it away, fear of how Steve was standing in front of me. We had buried him and Bucky mere hours ago.

“You look like Steve. But you’re much older than the Steve I know,” I stared at him, puzzled.

“It’s me, Y/N. I’m here to take you home.” This Steve vowed. “You have to come with me, quick.”

I furiously shook my head. “How do I know it’s really you?”

My back bumped into the car and my shaking hands reached for the handle. Steve gently placed his hand over my own, forcing me to look at him.

“Please, you can’t drive away from here.” He begged. His bottom lip trembled slightly.

“Why not?!” I bellowed.

Older Steve shook his head, “I can’t tell you but you have to trust me not to get in that car.”

“I must be imagining this. It’s a side effect from the grief.” I rubbed my eyes, the exhaustion weighing me down.

“I can take you to him but we have to go now. Bucky’s waiting for you; his girl.”

With the mention of his name, I looked at Older Steve dumbfounded. The wet strands of hair stuck to my face as I stuttered over the words that fell from my lips.

“You can take me to him?”

Steve nodded. “We have to leave now. I don’t have much time to explain everything to you but once we’re there, I’ll explain it all to you.”

I shook my head confused. “Go where?”

“A different time,” Steve admitted, quickly grabbing my hand.

Our bodies were sucked through this kind of vortex and I felt myself flying through darkness.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes and reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #1940 bucky barnes #stucky #the winter soldier #marvel #steve rogers #avengers #reader insert #bucky barnes reader insert

[jikseud]

In Another Life

pairings: chan x reader

wc: 1.1k

genre: tiny fluff, little angst

warnings: kind of messy ending (?) a little sadness.

note: here's a little drabble for y'all. and yes this is kind of inspired by 5SoS' song "She Looks So Perfect" and yes this hasn't been proof read yet but hope you enjoy it!!! +I'm sorry in advance if it's not that good huhu

“Hey Y/n... ” Chan whispered as we lay silently, staring at the stars above us. I answered him with a quiet hum, closing my eyes slowly. “I was thinking... ” he started. “What if one day, I show up at your door... with a plane ticket, and a shiny diamond ring with your name on it..." he paused. My eyes opened to look at him, silently asking him to continue. “Well... would you want to run away? With me? ” he said, looking deeply into my eyes. I stared back at him and saw the sincerity and hope in them.

God, I love this man.

I deeply took a breath before breaking our eye contact. I smiled ahead of me before answering, “I don't know? What's in it for me?”.

He laughed at me. “Hmm, I'm not really sure about what else you want but, we'll be together 24/7, I give you that, I'd cook for you everyday, clean the house with you... and the rest... we can just figure it out on the way and I will make sure to give you everything you deserve and everything you ever wanted,” he replied.

“Like?” I pressed. He held my hand as he hummed.

“Like a big house, one that's big enough for our future kids to run around in as if they were in a huge field. Or that one necklace you'd always whined about, or that one bag that looks so pretty but so expensive as well, or that sports car you always talked to me about, or the penthouse we always dreamed of getting, or maybe this one expensive and modern looking house just a few blocks away from here... and anything and everything you want...” he faltered, seeming to dig inside his head for more ideas. I smiled at his cuteness.

“Tell you what… I don't really want anything else. You know I will run away with you even if the only thing we have is this little blanket...” I paused, lifting the blanket that's covering the both of us. “Oh and something that will help us live of course,” I continued then I turned to face him, lifting both of my hands to cup his face. “You know I'm not a picky person Chan, I'd run away with you even without the shiny diamond ring, the plane ticket, a luxury living space... all that, heck you could even offer me a small old apartment with holes on the ceiling and cracks on the walls and I'll be packing my bags in an instant,” I joked. “Chan, having you here with me and knowing that you had my back whenever is already enough. Just seeing you happy makes me happy, and contented as well so whatever it is that you could offer, may it be a small thing or a big thing, I'd gratefully take it as long as you'll be here to stay with me... As long as you promise to not leave me ever,” I told him as I deeply looked into his watering eyes. “You're literally all I need, Chan.” I finished my mini speech.

He slowly smiled after failing to blink his tears away. “I'm supposed to be the one making this romantic and all but you beat me to it,” he sniffled once before speaking again. “Anyways, I promise. I promise I'd stay by your side until my last breath, even in the afterlife, and even in our next life... I'm literally your soulmate but if I wasn't, I will do everything in my power to make sure that I'd be your soulmate no matter what, even if you don't feel the same about me anymore, I'd make sure you fall in love with me all over again. I'd make you fall in love with me all over again,” he swore and I laughed slightly at him.

He looked at me, looking offended that I laughed at his little promise and so I gave him a kiss before replying, "You silly little baby, even when I don't feel the same anymore, the universe will always find it's way to bring me back to you. We're soulmates after all and I refuse to have any other person as my soulmate. You're already more than enough for me so I wouldn't dare to let you go."

He smiled so wide at me before locking me in his hold. “You promise that?” he asked and I chuckled at him.

“I promise, cross my heart,” I answered. He tightened his hold on me.

“You swear? Even if your tongue gets cut off?” he asked again and this time, I laughed harder at him.

“I swear on my life,” I assured him as he turned me around to give me a kiss.

He looked at me deep in the eyes before landing another kiss, a longer one, on my lips.

“I love you, Y/N. So much,” he whispered and I felt my heart beat faster at his admission.

Even after hearing those words from him plenty of times already, everytime he says it feels like the first time all over again.

Still gives me butterflies and still makes my heart skip a beat.

“I love you more, Chan. More than you could ever imagine.”

-

And think I was so wrong for loving you more.

I shouldn't have held on to your promises so I wouldn't be hurting this much right now because in the end, you still left me.

You left me so easily with the same amount of ease you had when you threw those promises to me that night. You left me in a snap of a finger that I couldn't do anything but take it all in.

And now I cry silently beside your lifeless form, laying peacefully in front of me as I stare lovingly at you just like I did all those years ago. Memorising every detail of your beautiful features, too scared to forget how you would look like if I ever tear my eyes away from you even for a second. The only difference now is that my love for you is now being accompanied by numbness and sadness which used to be pure love and utter happiness.

I wasn't ready for this at all. I didn't see this coming and the chances of this happening was buried so deep in the back of my head that I never thought it would actually happen.

I never thought the day you'd leave me would actually come and I never thought it would come this soon. I just wish I had prepared more so it wouldn't hurt this much.

But maybe... things really do happen for a reason. In our case, the reason maybe is that this lifetime isn't for us. Maybe we weren't destined for each other in this life. Maybe the universe had store something more for the two of us on another lifetime and maybe we should just keep waiting until we get what we deserve.

So, even if it hurts, I will still hold on to your promise. I'll still believe that you will find me again in another life. I believe, our time will come soon, it doesn't have to be now but maybe in another life, Chan.

Maybe in another life.

-

A/N: Hehe.

#skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan #chan drabbles #bang chan fanfic #skz chan #stray kids bang chan #skz fluff #skz #skz oneshots #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz angst #bang chan angst #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop #skz smuts #skz fanfic #skz smut #kpop angst #kpop fanfic #bang chan smut #chris bang #ORIGS

[bitchassbucky]

.eps (explicit)

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: dark!bucky x dark!reader, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood mention, gore and dismemberment/beheading, murder, toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, sedation/drugging/use of sedative, stockholm syndrome-ish, one very special character reveal

A/N: i told y'all there's more <3 the special character treat is for @sarge-barnes-sir mwah!

this is queued shdhhsh gonna fix the links in the mornin’

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS ABOVE, IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THIS VERSION, GO AND CHECK OUT THE NON-EXPLICIT VERSION.

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Safeness, comfortability, warmth are all but a false sense of reality.

When a prey takes down its walls, the predator moves in. Camouflaged in familiar colors, in words that you’re used to hearing, in praises, in lies. Most predators use the mask of the night to move in darkness—unyielding and calculated. Come morning, there will be only one left alive, tainted with victory and bloodshed.

You and Bucky have been engaging in a dance for two—a battle of who’s willing to take the leap of faith and unleash hell upon the other.

Stifled smiles and pursed lips.

The air is filled with unsaid irritants, little things that ticked away like bombs.

There was no time for pleading, no time for mercy, no rest for the wicked.

Did you still love each other?

How far are you willing to go to keep up with his… complacency?

Bucky’s mundane life already taking a toll on you. The endless nightmares of him feeling you. The swirling vision of Bucky being with you every waking—and sleeping—moment: it grates your soul to shreds.

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

“Yes, darling.”

“What about the day after forever?”

“That too, honey.”

Where was the man you loved so deeply? The man that broke his morals just to be with you?

Was he under this hull of a Yes Man? A poor little thing that says ‘yes’ to everything like a puppy.

The man you held so dearly now slipping away, chipping his humanity, shedding the once-human.

“Would you marry me tomorrow if I asked you?”

“Of course, baby, why wouldn’t I?”

“Would you kill for me?”

“I’m meant to do the same for you.”

It’s irritating how Bucky gave up too quickly. Too fast, moving too fast. The gazelle let the lion tear its neck as it lay there, unmoving, letting the blood seep into its hide.

When you first met Bucky, it was your own fairytale unfolding before your eyes. Kismet, reality, forgiveness from above. He was soft and shy, passionate, lively.

Far from what you expected from a man his age—you blame Steve for forcing you into his narrative before. That all men are out to get you. They will hurt you. They will use you and leave you for good. But Bucky? Bucky came in like a knight. He saved you from the carcass of your past. He saved you from the sins that you prayed and knelt for.

Bucky taught you how to love.

Bucky taught you how to live for yourself.

Bucky taught you that being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.

“It was an unspoken little thing, wasn’t it?”

“What thing, baby?”

“Our love.”

“Yes, honey, it was.”

He worships you.

He worships you like a fucking God and you hate it.

Suffocating, too suffocating. You dove straight for the water and now you’re drowning.

Do you still love each other? The question hangs in the air, heavy with its weight, light as a feather.

It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.

So you stand there with a syringe half-filled with a horse sedative. It’s a concern how easy it is to waltz into a pet store and pick up a general anesthetic. You make a mental note to look at it later.

Bucky’s body slumps forward, his forehead meeting the edge of the table with a dull thud. If the overdose doesn’t kill him, the weeping crack in his head will.

Holy fuck, humans bleed a lot. And fast. Good thing you already have that clear tarp taped down. Even with the hush money stuffed down your throat, it would take a good nick to regrout the kitchen.

“What is that for, honey?”

“I’m painting the cabinets.”

“Okay, darling.”

So you let him bleed, surprised that the liquid is redder than what you thought it would be. A soft gurgling noise came from Bucky, the last of air escaping his dead body. You stood there, syringe in hand, as you thought how to dispose of a six-foot-tall man without arousing suspicion.

Not that he’ll be missed anyway: the local news and the internet already branded him as a psycho and you as a victim. You were both victims in this fairytale. They reported his case as “skipped the town like the sicko he is.” So, no—no one’s going to look for him.

The sun was high up in the sky and there was a dead body in your kitchen.

A butcher and a surgeon walks into a bar for a drink. “What do you do for a living?” Said the butcher, “I save lives! What about you?” The doctor answers. “I save animals from dying slowly. We’re basically the same. You’re just very clean.” You see, the butcher comes into the bar covered in blood, reeking of death. The surgeon, on the other hand, wears his white coat with pride even though he’s surrounded by death every passing second.

Today was the day you learned that you have the tools of a butcher and the precision of a surgeon. Unlike before.

You carefully take Bucky’s fingers off of his left hand, leaving a skin flap on the edge of the last knuckle for you to stitch close later. Four promises. Four goddamn promises and he broke all of them.

It was his fault that he’s dead. He made you do this.

Starting with his left shoulder, you jab the knife between the bone and the soft flesh of his armpit, bringing the blade downwards. The sickening smell of blood swirled along with the image of muscle and fat being sliced made you gag.

Does the brain know that it’s seeing something it shouldn’t?

A rational part of you wanted to look away but the time is ticking, it’ll be much harder once rigor mortis sets in an hour.

You swing the knife down, cracking the bone once, and then again, and again, and again until the shoulder bone splinters and dislocates itself from the rest of Bucky’s torso. You had to switch knives and blades and a fucking bone saw to get through the rest of his limbs, leaving only his chest, head, and stomach untouched. After taping up and packing the arms and the legs, you work on putting the rest of Bucky into a nondescript suitcase.

The only problem being his head getting into the way of things.

Wanting to preserve even a shred of his dignity, you left his face untouched. Well, save from the crack in his skull.

You begrudgingly take a hefty chef’s knife and start cutting through the jugular vein, only stopping when the blade hits the spinal cord by his nape. The serrated blade of the bone saw sits on your blood-soaked gloves, scrape-scrape-scraping until it snaps into two.

The human head weighs around 10 pounds, kinda like a bowling ball.

An opaque black garbage bag containing Bucky’s head looks nothing suspicious as you put it inside a backpack—into a firepit you go.

His limbs—arms and legs alike—are going deep into the ocean, forgotten and to be used as fish food.

The limbless torso will be finding its home in a deep hole in the middle of a densely wooded area, far from the city.

But you’re not quite sure what to do with the mason jar of teeth though; the clinking noises of it remind you of the seashells you used to collect when you were a kid. Maybe you’ll stash it away with the torso.

Placing the bags into the trunk of a rental, you begin your journey to the end of your fairytale.

The drive to and from the places was tiring, to say the least. The internet connection of the diners was spotty at best. Locals were overly friendly with the city folks who came passing through their towns. The roads reek of roadkill and manure from the farm animals that were left to roam for fresh grass.

At least you get to come home in a spotless apartment, alone once again.

But not lonely.

Your space is yours again. No trace of anyone anywhere. Immaculately yours.

—

Humans are social creatures.

No one can truly be alone, especially in today’s world where we’re connected to everyone—whether we liked it or not.

Leaving your wretched job behind was an easy feat to do. No one can say no to the victim of such a vile crime. That’s all they saw you: a helpless little thing. So off you went; saying half-assed goodbyes and sending emails of courage and hope and fucking resilience.

Your resignation meant that the company’s free of any dirt from you, Bucky’s disappearance quickly becoming a joke and a rumor blending in one.

They let you leave: in your bank account a fat check ensuring that you’d shut up about the scandal for months until you can’t feed yourself no more. So you packed your bags and jet off without looking back. You never liked that apartment anyway.

Nevertheless, you found yourself looking into another dead-end job in one of the towns you stopped over before. It’s a charming place like time froze in their plaza while the rest of the world went on. You found a small studio apartment in a street tuckered away from the main avenue, you settled there as days became nights and nights turned into days.

You woke up one morning craving a healthy serving of coffee and pancakes, luckily the town’s local diner wasn’t far from your new home.

The coffee was too hot, the pancakes were amazing, fluffy, and just right. You’re sitting in a sunny booth, the warmth doing its wonders.

“Hi, can I get today’s paper, please?” Your voice is sweet as you call your server, giving her a quick smile.

A pair of Raybans adorn your face, unconsciously hiding behind its darkened glasses. The waitress gives you a thick stack of newspapers, refilling your cup with black coffee.

Upon opening the paper, you ignore the town’s headlines and went straight for the job postings. The door jingled open as patrons come in and go, waving to familiar faces.

Job Vacancy Announcements

Secretary to the Town Sheriff

You skimmed over the rest of the details, only noting the address of the office. The job looks quite lucrative for someone who would only take messages and organize files for the sheriff.

Looking over the job posting again, you read over the words walk-ins only. That shouldn’t be hard enough.

The diner looked deserted save from the man sitting behind your booth. Leaning over and tapping his shoulder, you put on a polite smile, “Hi, sorry, do you know how to get to the sheriff’s office from here?”

“Hello, darling.” The man croons in an accent, he looks over to you, “join me in my booth, will ‘ya?”

You’re in no position to reject his proposal, you’re the one who needed an answer.

Taking your coffee cup, you slide into his booth, “hi.”

“Just the face I wanted to see.” Clean-shaven, a hint of mint and smoke, and something woody; a worn leather jacket and white button-up shirt hugging his soft frame. “Some folks over on the apartment complex were talkin’ about a city girl wanting to rent a studio all by herself. That happen to be you?”

You look over to him, trying to understand how that small of news spread like a wildfire, “yeah. I moved in a week ago.”

He leans over, smiling sweetly as he unabashedly lets his eyes roam your features, “What’s a city girl like you doin’ in a place like this? I hope we ain’t too boring for you, gal.”

Chatty—he’s way too chatty.

“Just wanted a change of pace, really. Away from the bustle of the city.” You rustle the paper, clearing your throat to get back on the matter on hand, “so the sheriff’s office? Is it too far from here?”

“What business are ‘ya bringing into the office?”

“A job, actually. Says here that they’re looking for a secretary.” You might as well tell him everything, he seems too chatty to be dismissed over and over again.

“Well, darlin’, today’s your lucky day. No need to drive down the old road.” He reaches down to his seat, pulling up a brown hat, “Hi, I’m Sheriff Bodecker. Now, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

You bite back a giggle, you’ve always wanted to be involved with the law.

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst

[katsukikitten]

Part 10 of Irritated. Y'all thank Jo for this being updated lol.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ This is an 18+ Pro Hero AU, mentions of violence and death. Enjoy

The pungent smell of wet Earth and nose burning chemicals did not pair well with the harsh scent of rotting fruit. Sickeningly sweet as it rouses you, mind hazed as your eyelids refuse to open or even flutter. Weighted by lead and an endless sleep that tries to pull you under again. For once you submit.

More time passes, although you aren’t even sure you understand the concept any longer as that same smell stirs you again, a bang from an adjacent room pushes your eyes to flutter. Flashes of light against the start darkness before your eyes adjust to the low light of the room that seeps in from a few small rectangular windows. The panes are caked with dust while bricks are pressed into the seedy Earth, giving the room a natural coolness, there is only one set of stairs that lead up towards a door outlined in light. The sound of running water makes your throat constrict and your mouth dry, as if you swallowed cotton whole. Making you wonder just how long you had been pulled undertow. It takes your throbbing head a moment to catch up with your senses as a chill settles over your bare skin in goose flesh.

And then it all comes flooding back, the awful taste of his salty skin in your mouth, the fear gripping at your muscles as you finally realize that you are not in the safety of your apartment but somewhere forgein. Thrashing to get to your feet only to hit hard onto the icy concrete, wrists and ankles bound by white cuffs, a small whine escapes your raw throat. Your heart hammers in your chest before you feel a sharp prick in both of your wrists. A warm substance floods your system as your eyelids become heavy, mind trudging through abduction procedures before settling on blissful numb. A blurry figure comes from the only other door in the room that isn’t atop the staircase. You don’t need to fully focus on his face to know exactly what color his eyes are as they burn into your retinas before sleep hushes your frayed nerves. You dream of all consuming green that slowly fades to black.

Bakugou finds himself standing in the kitchen of his apartment, your spare key stares up at him from your paperwork. A sweating glass with melting ice and the reminisce of an amber liquid is his only company. He leers down at the address, wondering why the hell you were on such a seedy side of town, then he thinks of you shaking on the couch back at the hotel during the convention. His stomach churns, your final words and blow cause him to suck his teeth.

“Not my fucking problem.” He huffs to himself, refilling the glass before killing the light in the kitchen to settle on the couch. His grip is too tight on the crystal glass in his explosive palm, the glass threatens to shatter while an infomercial plays in the background. His mind is anywhere but the TV while indestructible pans are advertised across the large screen. Aggressively swirling the amber liquid as his thoughts become more and more loud. He swallows the whisky whole and with it the thought of you. Letting it all burn as it runs down his throat and heats his chest, a warm feeling flooding his veins as he sinks lower into the couch. Flipping channels as he forgets you.

Your key taped to your personal records, that Bakugou stole, do not sit on his fine counter much longer, soon it is swiped and shoved into a pocket. He slams the crystal glass on the counter as he reaches for his own apartment keys and his cellphone. Bakgou slams his apartment door, locking the deadbolt before he rushes down the stairs to catch the last train to you hellish part of the city.

The hour train ride sobers Bakugou and only sets him into further agitation. Glaring at anyone who thinks to look at him more than once, even going as far as baring his teeth. Before glaring at his own reflection, who sneers right back. His black tee is tight and a bit damp despite the cool air, the brim of his backwards cap pulls the hair away from his forehead as his faded sides breathe in the chill of the train. The hat, an excuse to hold in his hair, his hero gloves heating his hands as his fingers twitch, he hopes your apartment is hardwood throughout since he didn't have plastic bags to put his feet in while he looked for something. Anything. He was doing the best with what he had.

But the more he looks at himself the more he realizes he never really was doing his best. At least not when it came to you.

The address to your apartment complex is a few blocks away from the train station, his jaw clenched as he reaches the low lit building. Screaming comes from somewhere far off, his ears perk out of habit, but he was supposed to be off duty right now. Plus that wasn’t his current focus, not to mention should he help it would be suspicious as fuck as to why he was so far way from home tonight. He bounds up the stairs in the dank stairwell two at a time, huffing through his nose as he reaches the top floor. The carpet is worn threadbare and reeks of vomit and water damage. Silence envelopes the top floor compared to the yelling and crashing items on his way up. Slowly it dawns on him that you’re most likely renting out the entire fucking floor. He sucks his teeth, leaning in close to the door of the first apartment on the floor. Nothing comes from the other side of the thin cheap door, musty air flows from between the cracks as if the room had been closed for quite some time. It confirms what he’s been thinking. He finds your apartment door with ease, several bolts and locks lined up perfectly straight. He looks down at the one key and thinks about what happened in the short few years you started at the agency that you would need five, no six additional deadbolts on your door. He half wishes you hadn't made it so obvious as to which door was yours, thoughts creep into the forefront of his mind as he imagines someone else standing in his spot now. He thinks he will need a locksmith, but that would call attention to himself, he could attempt to pick them but he never really had time to practice the shady skill. Just as he is about to turn to brute force as the answer he notices that your door doesn't seem fully shut. He thinks of all the times that you bitched while on patrol about your damn door and how you had to literally slam it shut for it to actually lock. Gritting his teeth he gently pushes the door open with his gloved hand letting it swing open with an eerie creak.

Already things are out of place. Your suitcase stands alone, untouched and obviously unpacked from the clothes peeking out from beneath the zipper, by the front door. Your lanyard for your keys is on the floor instead of the table that is in the foyer and the converse you were wearing the day that you quit are missing. Faintly something gleems in the grainy light from the hallway from beneath the table in the foyer. Bakugou reaches for it tentatively, teeth gritting as he realizes what the glass rectangle is.

Your phone.

Specifically, your dead phone.

His hand hover over the unresponsive screen before deciding to leave it, this would be evidence they would need later but for now he knew he had to do something. Kamisama takes pity on the poor bastard and throws him a bone in the shape of a scrunchie. Your black scrunchie that seems to have been ripped from your arm. As he reaches for it he notices the faint residue smeared on the hardwood. His mind dredges up weeks ago of the guy trying to hide his quirk. Of the carpet by the hotel door in the hall just a touch darker.

He should have fucking killed him, he should not have listened to you. He snatches the scrunchie, heading towards your kitchen to look for a bag, tupperware, anything to trap the smell of you and possibly your assailant. He finds a plastic sandwich bag, shoving the broken hair tie into the baggie before sealing it shut. He heads for your door thinking better of slamming it shut in case he needs to return without the calvary. Pulling his phone from his pocket he dials an old number from memory, the other line picks up.

"Oi, it's time I cashed in on that favor you owe me."

After the short conversation and the long hour and a half in the cold a four door sudan pulls up to the train station by your house. Bakugou eagerly yanks open passenger side door, slamming it shut as he cranks of the heat in the car, giving the driver no room for questions let alone a greeting.

"Oi, I need you to find the owner of this." He flashes the scrunchie as the driver gives him a look, "Inu, you're hound's son aren't you? It's not impossible."

"It might as well be dude. What is this?" Inu snatches the bag from hot fingers, "Do you even know when the last time the owner wore this. And what exactly are we doing? Is this even fucking official?"

Bakugou narrows his eyes, mouth set in a harsh snarl as he leans in close to the driver's seat while Inu leans back.

"I dunno was your shit I helped you with official? Was it ethical for us to take out a mob boss for your now ex wife?"

Inu looks away into the rear view mirror, eyes boring holes into the glass and the blankets in the back seat. Bakugou doesn't notice, he takes it as admission before leaning away into the passenger seat.

"Now get to sniffing." Inu grits his teeth at the hot head's comments before sighing out. Opening the bag just a little to take a whiff. The smell was faint, indicating a large gap from the time it was last worn to now. Not to mention there was an odd smell, so unbelievably faint in the fabric that had Inu not already known what you smelt like he would have missed it. Just barely he could make out past the notes of your shampoo a salty harsh smell, almost like a preservative. Had it been any stronger it would have burned his nostrils. Sweat and...was that formaldehyde?

His stomach churns, slowly closing the baggie before cracking his window, catching the wind just right. He follows his nose, head halfway out the window as the car carries the men late into the night, all the way to the fringes of a suburb that was partly in the country. Inu parks the car on the wide street of the little neighborhood built to mimic an American suburb in the nineties. Homes of various sizes spread out and yet not too far from one another.

"This is it." Inu announces, throwing the car in park as it sits nestled between a beat to hell pick up truck and a dented sudan.

"You're sure?" Bakugou asks as he takes in the old home, it's upkeep is minimal at best, landscaping border line over grown as he can barely make out the small rectangular windows at the base of the house beneath the old dim street lamp.

"This is where both smells get stronger."

"Both?" A tic wounds tighter in Bakugou's jaw while a tremor runs through his arms. Inu nods as Bakugou reaches for the knob.

"Woah, woah!" Inu's large hand clamps down onto a broad shoulder, "Hold up man, if she really is involved then this is nothing like the sting we did bro. We need to call someone."

"Like fucking who?"

"I dunno Director Yami?"

"Yea so he can dismiss this again? Fuck that and fuck you. I'm going." He shoves Inu away reaching for the door again before the blankets in the back seat come to life. A mop of emerald curls with concern plastered across the giant's face appears to Bakugou's horror.

"Kaachan...you can't. We need to do this right, for her." And with that Bakugou snaps, lunging for his old friend, enemy. Climbing past the center console with his hands outstretched before they wrap around a thick column squeezing with all of his might. Deku doesn't do much to stop him, somehow knowing deep down that it isn't really him that the red eyed man wants to kill. He wraps broad hands around thick forearms giving them a gentle squeeze, he could snap them with One for All if he wanted. Instead Inu barks out a breathy "What the fuck?" as he wraps his arms around Bakugou's torso pulling him back into the passenger's seat. In the tussle either Bakugou or Inu hit the horn, causing Inu to panic as a light comes to life in the once darkened house. He forcefully shoves Bakugou into the front seat as he peels into the street, thankfully without burning rubber.

"Are you trying to blow our fucking cover?!" Inu shouts, "Like fuck! And what's killing Izuku-kun going to do?"

Bakugou turns to glare at the behemoth of a man in the back seat, he rubs his throat as red eyes watch bruises form.

"I'm not sorry Deku, fuck you." But Izuku can read between the lines, Bakugou saying he is sorry but still fuck you for trying to stop me while our friend is most likely on borrowed time.

"'S kay. We can help her."

A honk, rouses you before footsteps can be heard overhead rushing through the house before blinding light floods down into the basement.

"Finally you're awake." He flicks on all the lights, scrambling to put your feet under you so you can at least sit. Eyes flickering over the room as you try to give your throbbing, unresponsive mind to collect something, anything you can store away for later to aid your escape. Meanwhile the green eyed fucker monologues.

"It took some time for me to adjust your dose, I need you to be just under enough that you won't fight back, your heart rate spikes easily you know…." His words are lost to you as you glance over your shoulder only to wish you never did as your stomach churns in horror. Lined up against the wall behind you are women, women you had posed with.

But what haunts you is how it starts with your missing friend. Her eyes hollowed out, pitch black holes stare back at you as her skin looks paper thin, like a botched mummification or that whoever was trying to preserve her got lucky. She is still in her last scene clothes that are bloodied and torn. Your eyes struggling to follow the line as they progressively become more and more preserved, until your eyes finally land on your last instagram picture, you and that young girl. With the peace signs beneath your eyes.

She looks to still be alive, until you realize she is unblinking with glass eyes and a permanent smile with the help of a stich or two.

He notices your rigidness and frowns.

"Are you not happy? It's hard to save the eyes." He forces your face to meet him with his fingers on your skin, "I made them for you. They're your friends right? I wouldn't want my doll to be lonely."

Your breath comes in ragged huffs as rage consumes you, you were going to kill him. With whatever little power you had left, you were going to end him and savor it.

All these lives, twenty, that you could see, lost, because of you and you negligence. Your eyes glow before a prick comes at your wrist, the power dying in your fingers.

"No." You rasp out as your vision begins to fade.

"Ah come on, I just want you to be a wake for just a bit doll. Just a while longer before I make you mine."

Your world plunges into the depths of darkness.

Your dream of the girls behind you, of their scream as their preserved bodies animate, their glass eyes fixated on you as they crawl across the concrete. Their mouths smelling of formatihide and rot as they lean close to you, voices beneath water or worn by gravel.

"You did this. You killed us."

#bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha au #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bnha imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou angst #bnha horror #tw death #tw trauma