#and are intelligent enough to wipe it away on their own and keep clean of their own accord

[rxttenfish]

also yes the big long noodle in front of miranda's eyes is a salt organ. its specifically to remove excess salt from her body, which is necessary as a saltwater animal, and its basically a modified tear duct.

the fun thing about her salt organ, though, is that merfolk can launch/spit the salt on command. its not really an adaptation, just a quirk of their biology, but there ARE merfolk who can and would spit that salt at landfolk as an insult. since it comes out basically as semi-liquid hypersaline eye goop, it CAN get into other people's eyes and stings like a motherfucker.

unfortunately, miranda would never do this. because shes a proper and polite little princess. and its kinda gross.

#all the care guide says is 'biomass' #alas..... miri would not spit in someone's face confirm #it is liquid too! just barely. #there is in fact some of the liquid that coats their eyes proper mixed in there #and thats neat because it is SUPER thick. incredibly thick eye goop. #thick enough to make people weird about how little miranda seems to blink #(not helped by her nictitating membranes either) #but since its there to keep the eye lubricated in the fucking OCEAN. yeah its very fuckin thick and not prone to #getting washed out or drying up #thankfully it doesnt form a crust like sea turtles and their thick eye goop #because. well. merfolk have hands. #and are intelligent enough to wipe it away on their own and keep clean of their own accord #so no crusty white lapdog eyes for miri #though when she gets sick the salt organ can start overproducing and That Sucks #Monster Prom

[mynameismckenziemae]

Underestimated

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x You/Reader/OFC

Summary: Being mistreated isn’t uncommon for a woman working in a male-dominated field, but Bob isn’t going to let it slide when he witnesses it happen to you.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, military/mechanical inaccuracies (I’m assuming), misogyny, etc.

——————————————————————————

For as long as you can remember, people (men) have underestimated you. Starting with your older brothers thinking you were an easy target, though they quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Next, your math teacher overlooked your intelligence because you were female. Your guidance counselor tried to persuade you away from the Navy after graduation because you weren’t tough enough for the military. The RDC laughed in your face the first day of boot camp, saying someone of your stature would never make it through; it sure felt good to see the smile fall from his face when you received ‘Outstanding’ marks in your physical readiness test.

But just because you were used to being underestimated; doesn’t mean it doesn’t get old.

It’s been two months since relocating to your hometown to be the lead aviation structural mechanic of North Island and none of the men you oversee have warmed up to you. The look of disappointment on your crew’s faces when you were introduced was obvious; your name was gender-neutral so they were counting on a male. You hadn’t expected them to befriend you, but you did expect respect; which was definitely lacking.

“A little help over here,” you call out, struggling to not lose your grip on the intake part you were trying to replace.

“Hello? Can someone help me?” You ask again a few minutes later, muscles trembling as it slides further off your shoulder. Not only would it hurt like a bitch if it lands on you, but it’s also not a cheap part if it bends or breaks.

“Equal pay for equal work, sweetheart. You can’t do the work yourself, you shouldn’t be here,” Jackson, the smug asshole, replies while the others chuckle in agreement.

“Fuck,” you grit out, trying not to panic as it begins to fall. But strong hands are helping you guide it into place. The same hands that have been on your mind since he dwarfed yours when he shook it on your first day.

Your attraction to the rest of him has only grown in the time since, along with your feelings; you adore his sweet, quiet demeanor. Natasha keeps telling you he feels the same way about you, but you haven’t built up the nerve yet to make a move.

“I’ll hold it here while you attach it,” Bob says softly near your ear. Your heart races as you do so, getting close enough that you can smell his signature leather and clean laundry scent.

Bob’s brows furrow as he watches your arms shake from the exertion. “How long were you holding this up?”

“About 5 minutes,” you reply, catching him shaking his head from the corner of your eye.

You’re done a moment later, sighing in relief when you put your arms down.

“Thanks,” you say as you set down your screwdriver and wipe your hands. You can’t help but notice how good he looks in his flight suit.

“No problem. Why didn’t you ask for help?” He asks as he wipes off his own.

“I did,” you sigh. “The boys here uh…aren’t too fond of me being their supervisor.”

“Why not?” He asks, perplexed.

“Because I’m a woman,” you reply with a shrug. “They don’t think I’m right for the job because I ask for help with lifting sometimes. Among other thing so I’m sure.”

His expression quickly turns angry.

“What’s up, Floyd?” Jackson says, smacking Bob on the shoulder. “If you need something worked on, you’re better off coming to me.”

“Why’s that?” Bob asks, shrugging his hand off and turning around.

“Come on, you know a woman’s place is in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant,” Jackson jokes.

But you’re not laughing. Neither is Bob.

“A woman’s place is wherever the hell she wants it to be, Jackson. I know you’re an idiot but I can’t believe you’re dumb enough to say something like that in front of me, but also your female commanding officer. I haven’t been impressed with the way you,” he stops and looks at the rest of the guys that have gathered around, “any of you have been treating her since she started but refusing to help her is going against direct orders. Not only could she have been injured, but the part she was holding costs more than a year’s salary for you.”

He steps closer to Jackson as he continues. “I’ll leave it up to her if she wants to report it, but if I ever see you disrespect her again, you’ll have to deal with me.”

You’re suddenly feeling hot and flustered as the crush you’ve been harboring intensifies as sweet, shy Bob defends your honor.

Jackson visibly gulps, nodding before he looks at you.

“Go home for the day,” you say with a glance at the clock before you begin to clean up your bay. “All of you are dismissed.”

“Look, I’m sorry-“ Jackson starts but you cut him off.

“Save it, Jackson,” you sigh. “I’m not going to report you, but I will if it happens again.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies before scurrying away.

Bob follows you as you wash your hands in the sink, scrubbing the grease off. “Sorry, if I overstepped. I know you’re more than capable of standing up for yourself. I just can’t-“ he starts but you interrupt him as you dry your hands.

“You didn’t overstep. I appreciate it,” you assure him as you look over his shoulder to make sure everyone’s gone.

You take a step closer, bringing a hand up to play with the zipper of his flight suit.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you pull him to you for a kiss.

He freezes as your lips touch his, but only for a moment before he kisses you back; the tension that’s been building snapping in an instant.

“I’ve wanted this since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he breathes as you kiss down his neck, groaning as you nip his collarbone.

“Me too,” you murmur against his neck before pulling back to take his hand. “Come on.”

You lead him to the parts room, unlocking the door and pushing him against it once closed, gasping into the kiss when you feel his thick erection pressing against your stomach.

He groans when your hand finds him next, palming him through his flight suit. You shiver before pulling down the zipper, wanting more of those delicious sounds.

“What are-oh God,” he sighs when you fall to your knees, flicking your tongue over the wet spot on his boxerbriefs to taste the precum.

“Wanna taste you,” you say, hands pausing by the waistband of his briefs. “Can I?”

You continue when he nods, gulping when his size is revealed to you. “So big,” you murmur, meeting his eyes as you lean forward to lick the precum beading.

“Fuck,” he whispers before his head falls back against the door with a thump and his hands fist at his sides when you suck him into your mouth.

You bring a hand up to stroke what can’t fit in your mouth and unzip your own coveralls with the other, slipping inside and between your legs to give yourself some relief. Your eyes fall close with a moan as you circle your clit.

“Oh-oh my God,” he gasps when you moan, his eyes zeroing in on what your hand is doing. “Are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes open and take in his wrecked expression before you hum around him.

“Ah…w-wait,” he pants, guiding you off him and to your feet. “I almost-I don’t wanna cum yet.”

You smile as he spins you, pressing you to the door. You shiver as he leaves wet kisses down your neck and whimper when he sucks your nipple through the thin material of your sports bra.

“Next time,” you promise, stopping him as he starts to kneel. “Right now I want you inside me.”

He inhales sharply at your words and nods as he reaches for his wallet, pulling out a condom.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a giggle as he puts it under the light while you slip your coveralls off.

“Making sure it’s not expired,” he replies with a chuckle. “It’s been in my wallet for a few years. It’s good for a few more months yet.”

“Good,” you reply, watching as he rolls it on.

You wrap your legs around his waist when he lifts you and lines himself up to your entrance.

Your mouth finds his as he pushes inside you, and you whimper at the sweet stretch.

“You feel like heaven” he whispers before trailing kisses to your shoulder as you adjust, withdrawing to push back in when you’re ready.

Now it’s your head that thunks against the door as he fucks into you at a steady pace, grunting softly into your neck with each deep thrust.

He pulls back to watch you through lust-heavy eyes as he wets his ring and pointer fingertips before sliding them between you to circle your clit. “Feel good?” He asks, voice husky.

“So good,” you moan, clenching around him as your release starts to build.

“Good,” he nods, “I want you to cum for me, can you do that?”

“Y-yes! Fuck, I’m close,” you whine, your hands scrambling to find purchase on his shoulders as your orgasm rapidly approaches.

He leans in for another kiss and the change of the angle is all it takes for you to fall over the edge with a throaty moan.

Bob’s hips stutter and he fills the condom with a deep groan when you clench rhythmically around him.

He sets you down gently once you’ve caught your breath, making sure you’re steady on your feet before removing the condom. You pull your underwear back on while he zips up his suit.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks as he kneels, helping you step back into your uniform.

“I have a date with a load of laundry,” you joke. “Why, what’s up?”

“Think it’d be upset if you rescheduled?” He asks, leaning forward to press a kiss just above your bare knee, then halfway up your thigh as he pulls up the fabric. “You said I could do this,” he places a wet kiss to your clit through your underwear before continuing to rise, “next time. So I was thinking I could pick up takeout and we could have ‘next time’ tonight?”

“I like the way you think,” you reply with a smile, leading the way out of the hangar.

——————————————————————————

A/N: Thank you @lexixstewart for the idea (again!) You have such good ideas! I hope you like it!

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

Sorry if you’re not a Bob girly, but I’ll add my taglist here:

@mamamaystbr

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

@86laura11

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@dempy

@angelbabyyy99

@buckysteveloki-me

@djs8891

@mizzzpink

@daggerspare-standingby

@mrsevans90

@littlezee80

@emma8895eb

@jessicab1991

@devil-angel-winchester

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x ofc #robert bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd x you #top gun maverick

[iamjacksragingboner]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Johnny's horrific catcalling and borderline harassment that he thinks is flirting

A/N: Going away for a few days to visit family for Christmas, so I will supply you with this first little chapter of the Cowboy Soap fic to keep you fiends satiated. Tried spending a little longer on the writing so hopefully it flows a bit better! Also, this is my first time writing Ghost, so look forward to more of him as he pops in through this fic :)

Clean up people's plates. Wash and dry cups. Pour drinks. Wake up the sorry sod that fell asleep at the bar. Collect tips. Sneak out back to wipe the sweat from your face and smoke.

It was a shift like any other. You sighed, the smoke pluming out in front of you in a tired cloud, then dissipating, and you snuffed the cigarette with the heel of your boot. The afternoon sun beat down on you like a sluggish brute as you smoothed the apron of your smock and stepped back inside, the muffled sounds of clinking glasses and patrons chatting amicably becoming clear once more.

Slinking your way back to the bar, you nodded at a gruff old man who tipped his hat at you, poured him his usual and slid it over to him. In turn, he flicked you a single coin as a tip. It was a relatively slow day in comparison to the usual lively energy of this dusty little inn, and you were thankful for the copious smoke breaks you could cop, thanks to your brother being on shift with you.

The brother in question bumped your shoulder, and your gaze flicked to his figure towering over you, black bandanna covering the lower portion of his face. "You good to handle the place while I pop out for a bit?" Simon asked, putting down the glass he was wiping. "Got an old friend coming into town sometime soon, I wanna go make sure there's a room set up for him upstairs."

You nodded in affirmation, blowing a strand of hair from your face. "Fine by me, 's not like there's anyone here anyway." As proof of this, you gestured to the sparsely filled room, the usual crowd of cowboys having been out for the past week or so. Simon was usually amongst them, but had chosen to stay behind this week, helping you man the tavern so you weren't on your own.

Cowboys were a generally thick bunch, in your opinion. Some of them couldn't tell their dick from their asshole, and you'd dealt with enough drunk and rambunctious cowboys to have a general distaste for the rest of them, no matter how 'intelligent' they claimed to be. All except your brother of course, who was smart enough to co-run the tavern with you, but had enough casual idiocy in him to coexist with other cowboys, yet not entirely enough to bother you completely. In your mind, he was gaining insider info, as it were. You'd never tell him this, however, for fear of copping a playful smack to the side of the head and a night of solo dish duty awaiting the end of your shift.

Simon nodded, the corners of his eyes crinkling into a smile—he was never one for many words, often opting for silent looks you had to spend years trying to decipher, even now you have moments where you aren't quite sure what he entirely meant—before he patted you on the shoulder as he passed, walking upstairs to the rooms, kept open for travelers and folks too drunk to walk home. In turn, you picked up where he left off with the dishes, wiping dry mugs and placing them in their respective shelves.

From the little Simon had said and the magnitude that he had alluded through a myriad of looks, his friend—Johnny as he affectionately called him—was a lovely man, despite his cowboy career path. Lively, a bit on the rowdy side of things, but he was sure you and him would get along just fine.

The tavern doors open with a slam that you cringe at—you'd have to check the hinges before you went to bed that night—and in waltzed a troop of unruly looking cowboys, with dust in their hair and hands in their pockets; it wasn't hard to tell they thought they were the shit. They weren't all faces you recognised, but that wasn't all that uncommon—most cowboys tended not to settle in one town for too long, preferring a life of travel that you just couldn't get behind.

They sauntered up to the bar with an air of authority and almost pompousness, as if their very presence in here was something you should marvel at, almost as if they weren't the bane of your existence. Almost. You shouldn’t hate them too much; they provided the majority of the income that kept this tavern alive, even helped build the damn thing, but fuck they could be annoying sometimes.

You served the first two their drinks with as little communication as possible; if they caught you in a conversation, you'd be subject to a half hour's earful of their latest travels that you really didn't feel like listening to.

The third seemed hellbent on making his presence known to you, refusing to prowl over to the tables with the rest of his friends once he'd been served, instead choosing to sit and ogle you as you worked. Which was fine, it wasn't as though you weren't used to men's lecherous eyes linger on your body as you worked; wasn't exactly pleasant, but you never felt particularly unsafe, knowing your brickhouse of a brother was usually close by to scare them off.

What annoyed you was the way he would smirk any time your eyes happened to meet, which was more than once. It didn't help that he was attractive in most senses of the word, so you found yourself stealing glances more than you would have liked. Your eyes grazed along his thick arms, dense with muscle and tanned from days spent in the sun, down to his hands wrapped around his whiskey, and you made quick note of every detail you could make out through stolen glances when you were sure he wouldn't catch you. Dirt under the nails. Gnarled and scarred knuckles. Callouses on his palms. Strong hands. Worker’s hands.

You almost felt guilty, sinful even, admitting this to yourself, but he was a mightily attractive fellow; didn't stop you from shuddering when he caught you eyeing him up, and winked.

"Like what ye see, lass?"

Fuck, even his voice was attractive, an accent you couldn't place and a gravelly, casual tone that you were sure rumbled in his chest like thunder or falling stones when he spoke. You wouldn't ever admit this to him though—too many issues in falling in love with a stupid cowboy, in your opinion. You chose to instead keep your trap shut, and turned your attention to pouring another drink for the grizzled old man at the end of the bar.

"Strong silent type? I like it. Means I get ta haver yer ear off as much as I want. Yer not a bad lookin' lass either, I certainly wouldnae turn down a chance to bed a bonnie like yerself."

And just like that, any inkling of a budding attraction that was forming for this handsome young cowboy disintegrated right in front of your very eyes in an instant. You found yourself chewing the inside of your cheek raw with the effort of not kicking him out of the tavern and banning him from ever stepping foot in here again.

"Ye can call me Soap—it's what the bonnies call me—they say I give the best baths, and my massages after are highly rated too, but ye didnae hear that from me, lass."

Grit your teeth. Breathe in deep. Close your eyes. Turn around and do something else, anything else, just distract yourself for long enough for him to lose interest.

A low wolf whistle when you turned around was what did it, made you whip around with a bottle in hand, held high over your head and poised, ready to crack over his sorry head in that stupid fucking hat and his stupid fucking grin that stupid handsome cu-

"Johnny!"

Simon was thumping down the stairs, and you didn’t think you'd ever heard that amount of sheer joy in his voice. That wasn't what caught your attention however. Your eyes go from Soap—who turned at the mention of the name, a beaming smile plastered on his face—to Simon, who wrapped the man in a bone crushing hug and turned to face you with his arm around Johnny's shoulder. Soap's shoulder. You put the bottle down, for your brother's sake.

"This is Johnny," Simon said, and you could practically feel the sunbeams peaking out from under his bandanna.

Of course it is.

Contrary to your expression of shock, anger and mild embarrassment, Soap was ecstatic. "So this is yer bonnie lass of a sister I've heard so much about!"

Go choke on a tumbleweed and die, cowboy.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish #cowboy soap mactavish #cowboy soap #cowboy soap x reader

[steviewashere]

hello!! steddie and 38 for the kiss prompt?? 💕

Hey, hey! <3 As a heads up, you might hate me for this. Everybody might hate me for this, lol. But here we go <3

Number 38: "Because they're running out of time."

CW: Eddie Munson Nearly Dies Here Tags: Season 4, Canon Divergence, Childhood Friends Steddie, Friends to Strangers to Friends?, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Love Confession, Near Death

🕰️—————🕰️ When they structured the plan to go back into the Upside Down, Nancy had suggested that Eddie and Dustin team up for the demobats. Now, Steve loves Nancy—not in that way—but he thought that that was one of the dumbest things he’d ever heard come from her mouth. And she’s incredibly intelligent, like mad scientist level intelligent, surpassing everybody on this earth kind of intelligent.

“Dustin should go with Lucas and Max,” he argued, “and I’ll stay with Eddie.”

The room had fallen silent. Until, Robin piped up, “But we’re going to need your pitching arm, Steve. That—We need somebody to throw the molotov cocktails.”

He scoffed. “No, you don’t. Robs, you used to play softball before getting on the soccer team. You two will be perfectly fine without me. And, besides, if things go haywire—Abort. Walkie on your channel, and we’ll fucking take our losses and replan all this bullshit.”

While the room had erupted into an intense argumentative cadence, Steve held his ground. Looked to Eddie. To his panicked eyes that had not once calmed since they met—again.

Steve knew what he was getting into when they found Eddie. They hadn’t been friendly and sweet on each other since middle school. Since being little kids, but that didn’t mean Steve wouldn’t at least try again. That he wouldn’t put up a fight and demand to be put in Eddie’s corner. So he held onto this, held out on this change in plans, because Eddie looked back on the sofa. He looked to Steve with something like…longing. Like he wanted to reach out and take Steve’s hand. And if the room hadn’t been full of people that just wouldn’t understand, Steve would’ve taken the plunge. He would’ve indulged.

He should’ve indulged, now that he’s kneeled on the ground in a pile of limp demobat bodies. Eddie is in his arms, blood soaked and babbling. And Steve wishes they could start again.

“Keep looking at me, Eds,” he pleads, “look at me and…and tell me one of your stories. You’re good at that. Can you do that?”

For a moment, Eddie’s breath catches. And in those grave seconds, Steve thinks it's over. He brings his hand, which was laying over Eddie’s waist, and places it on his chest. On Eddie’s slow beating heart and his rattling lungs. And he presses. As if, by his touch alone, Eddie would continue to live.

Steve wants him to live. Wants to get him out of here. Get him to safety and hold him and clean his hair and go swimming in Lover’s Lake like they did as kids over the summer. Take Eddie by the hand and go hiking through the woods, turn over every rotting branch to look at worms, and be gifted with rocks Eddie deems cool enough. Ride their bikes until their legs ache and their stomachs are sick and they’re craving lemonade and cookies. Wants to love on him forever because he was a fool; gave it all up for…what…popularity?

Eddie gasps wetly. Coughs up blood from the back of his throat, it drips sluggishly down his chin. Instinctively, Steve cradles his jaw and wipes it all away. Until it’s tacky and red on his own skin. Then, Eddie’s eyes sweep over to him. He blinks. Cries silently. And states, quiet enough for only mice to hear, “’86 is going to be my year, Stevie.”

“Yeah?” Steve prods, breathless and on the verge of crying himself. He thumbs at Eddie’s tears. “Tell me, Eds. Tell me how it’s gonna be your year.”

Another rattling, wet breath. “Graduate,” Eddie mutters, “and…and play with the band. I was—G’nna go to y’r house. Give…Give you a sunflower. You…My S’v’ie likes flowers.” He stares up at Steve, but Steve doesn’t feel very looked at. Like maybe Eddie’s seeing something beyond him, above him. He bites his lip and cradles Eddie’s jaw again.

“I do,” Steve whispers, “I loved when you gave me flowers, Eds.”

He sniffs and tries not to think about the dried petals of flowers he kept over the years. Ones that he stashed away in old books given to him by Wayne. That reside in his dresser drawers and in a cardboard box in his closet. Tries not to think about taking Eddie home with him, after all this is over, and showing him all the things he kept.

How, in moments where Steve felt lost, he pulled out the rocks and books and other trinkets, and wondered. Where Eddie was. What he was doing. Why he forced himself away from the only friend, sans Robin, that felt real.

“S’eve?” Eddie weakly calls.

He only hums, pressing his thumb deep into the going cold skin of Eddie’s right cheek.

Eddie reaches a clumsy hand up to Steve’s face, but doesn’t quite reach. So Steve ducks closer. Lets Eddie pull him in towards his face. Wipe away his own tears. Caress the few moles by his ear.

“I love you,” Eddie breathes. Inhales with a gurgle and Steve sobs in turn. “Love you, S’eve. Wanted…Been wantin’ you for forever.”

“Eds…”

In one fell swoop, Eddie pulls Steve in all the way. Noses along Steve’s. Then, with the strength of a newborn deer, he presses his lips to Steve’s. They’re slick with blood and drying tears. Chapped, split at the corners. He moves slowly while Steve tries not to devour. Eddie’s hand drapes over the back of Steve’s neck, neither grasping nor safe anymore. But he kisses. Like…

Like it’s the last time he’ll ever do it.

Maybe it is, Steve realizes in those few seconds. Because Eddie’s breath grows shallower, raspier between them. He gurgles blood into Steve’s mouth. And that’s tasted on Steve’s tongue, metallic and sweet and harmful. Maybe it doesn’t need to be.

Steve forces them apart. Lets Eddie try and drag him back, but doesn’t go back to that kiss. “Save…Save it, Eds,” Steve begs, “Save it for when we’re home and—I can show you how much I love you, too, okay? Can you—“

“Can’t,” Eddie slurs, “I…S’v’ie.”

He presses another soft kiss, this time to Steve’s thumb, where it’s still close to the split corner of his mouth. But he doesn’t look back.

“S’v’ie, love you.”

“I love you, too, Eds,” Steve murmurs meekly. “I’ll take you home, okay? I can—“ He takes a sharp gasp, sobbing through an exhale. “—Kiss me tonight. You stay with me and kiss me,” his voice wavers, “kiss me like we were never apart.”

“‘M’kay.”

“Okay, Eds,” Steve sighs, crying softly, “okay.”

Though it pulls on all his injuries, Steve hefts them up off the ground. Grimaces at Eddie’s pained yelp. And moves one foot after the other. They can’t be running out of time, Steve tries to digest.

Because he just got his boy back. They can’t be. I can’t be, Steve believes, hefting Eddie’s nearly limp body through the portal. I won’t.

🕰️—————🕰️ Kiss Ask Game <3

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst #love confessions #near death

[fineprintedsunsets]

A.I.R

This Is For Haunted Hoedown Day 4! | My Haunted Hoedown Master-List | Bucky Barnes & Characters Master-List

artificial intelligence au + "do you like it when I touch you like this, I can keep going if you want me to".

Synopsis: Your "Bucky Bots" are acting odd, and you're determined to fix the malfunction.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: (it was so difficult to come up with something for this ngl) robots behaving in a sexual way? slight dub!con. robot!buckybarnes x f reader. fingering.

You have been at this for days, trying desperately to pinpoint what caused the A.I.R. to malfunction. You fiddle with his backside, wires, and switches fill his compartment, waiting to be cut, analyzed, or messed with.

A.I.R was your own intelligence company. Standing for, (Artificially Intelligent Robots). It took you years to be where your feet stand now, in your own private lab, with enough money to donate to countless charities, and still have some left to retire on.

Recently, your MBBs, (Male Barnes Bots) have been acting strangely. You’ve often found them nearing you when you're not looking, even if their power switches are off. One of them even wrapped a metal hand around your waist, attempting to pull you to its metal frame.

You screamed, prying off the robot’s hand and reaching around to pull its connector wire. It powered down immediately, and you couldn’t lie it had shaken you a bit. Working with AI can be scary, especially with malicious people on the internet. But putting that intelligence inside a vessel, it’s even spookier.

Anything can go wrong.

Even as you tear at one of the Barnes Bots wires, you huff, wiping the sweat from your forehead and placing the tool down on the lab table. The bot lies lifeless on the table as you switch to look into its program.

You turn the monitor to face you, the screen reflecting in your glasses. Hunching over the desk to toy with the mouse, you start clicking the files, rummaging through its code. Most are just random data commands, the Barnes Bots were originally made to help with everyday activities.

Cooking, Cleaning, and Shopping.

Like a Roomba, but better.

Way better.

Due to this… problem, the bots release date has been called off, and now you are stuck in the lab trying to figure out the problem. You were the only one who could, this was your technology. You click on the only file you have left to sort through, scrunching at the harshness of the computer screen light.

It’s raining outside, and it’s almost completely pitch black.

Jesus.

How long have you been at the lab? Hours must have passed by. The file opens to rays of codes, and almost immediately you spot it. The inputs and outputs have been messed with. You pull away from the screen, nervously glancing at the Barnes Bot.

A virus is in his system, someone must have downloaded it, or the files might have been corrupted. You gasp, feeling a metal hand wrap around your hip, molding your hoodie to your small body. Anxiety seeps into your bones as you catch the reflection of your captor. The broken-down bot is still on the table, but behind you, is one of the many hundreds you created.

“A.I.R! Power down Barnes Bot 34” Your AI system doesn’t respond, and the Barnes Bot still has his metal fingers wrapped around your waist. You are scared now, this stuff only happens in movies, the whole “Watch out, your creations might turn on you" has never been more real at this moment.

You flip around, facing the bot. It’s one of the realistic versions. “Bucky” is what you had called this model. You had to admit, the face you created for the bot was gorgeous. His metal fingers were wrapped in the mold as well, making his artificial fingers feel like flesh.

Everything about this bot looked human, the way he moved, the way he talked. “Let go!” You scratch, trying to pry off his fingers. The bot smiles in an odd way, almost seductively…

You feel his other hand reach down your pants, as he keeps you in place. You kick, aiming for its legs, but it won't let up. “Power down!” The bot’s fingers dip into your panties waistline, a shiver coursing through your back. If you could just get to his connecter-

“Fuck.” An illicit moan echoes you, feeling its faux flesh fingers graze against your folds. You're stuck against the desk, unable to stop ‘Bucky’.

“Need to please you.” The bot says, his voice sounding as smooth as a human's, with no gaps or pauses like you hear in normal ai. Right then and there, you’ve figured it out. There’s a virus all right, and it’s causing the bots to act in a sexual manner.

You reach around his head, but the bot pulls away quickly, dodging your fingers. His own appendages circle your clit as you buck against him, begging for the torture to stop but for the pleasure to continue. This isn’t right, you shouldn’t be this wet from an A.I.R M.B.B.

“Do you like it when I touch you like this? I can keep going if you want me to.” The bot says smoothly. Its faux eyes lock with yours, his fingers bruising your hip as his hand finds your entrance.

This can’t be real. The words that come out of your mouth are feral and-

“Answer me, human.”

That response should concern you. Barnes Bots should not be acting like this, but when those fleshy fingers slide against you, their body pressing down on you, pushing you further into the desk, you don’t seem to care.

“Yes, Bucky!” You cry, bucking your hips into the metal framework of ‘Bucky’. It’s late, you're probably hallucinating from the lack of water you’ve had all day.

“Doing so good, human.”

“Good girl.” The bot somehow purrs, working his fingers in and out of you. You close your eyes, your fingers holding onto the edge of the desk. Heat rises in your cheeks, being praised by a robot…

Your robot, for that matter, Shouldn’t make you wet. But it does a large enough amount that the bot notices, hearing his metal framework slide in and out of your wet heat.

“Come for me, my little human. Make a mess on my fingers.” The Barnes Bot drones on, pumping his fingers in a curling motion. You didn’t program them to do that. Something is seriously messed up in the code, but right now, it doesn’t matter.

Not even a little bit.

A few more cruel thrust has you coming against the bot’s fingers, feeling his cool digits slide out with crude noises. You open your eyes, the orgasm still wracking waves against your small body. You lock eyes with the ‘Bucky’ Bot, his faux stare boring into your fingered-out frame. His metal fingers are covered in your desire.

Thank god they're waterproof.

#marvel #masterlist #fanfic #oneshot #smut #bucky barns fanfiction #buckbarnes #bucky x reader #buckybarnessmut #hauntedhoedownmasterlist #haunted hoedown #hauntedhoedownday4 #inklore

[autisticsupervillain]

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Stats Equalized!

This Month's Fighters...

Pearl vs Undyne!

Conditions:

Undyne starts in base.

Scenario:

When the monsters begin walking down from Mt. Ebott to rejoin with humanity, the Crystal Gems mistake this for a full on monster invasion and begin to fight them off. Acting in self defense, Undyne locks spears with Pearl.

Analysis: Pearl

What would you do if you were born into servitude? If all your life, you were nothing but an object to be owned. A thing to be bought. What would you do, if after centuries of a life spent like that, someone finally set you free? Well, if your name is Pearl, then you'd fall head over heels in love with them.

Pearls are the servant class of gem society. From the moment they sprout fully formed from the ground, they're handed off to high class gems to manage their needs and chores. Pearl originally belonged to White Diamond, the big ruler of all gemkind herself, but was handed down to the bratty little kid of the royal diamond family, Pink Diamond. You see, Pink.... "broke" her original Pearl.

Pink was very... innocent, for lack of a better term. She was childish, bratty, and unaware of the consequences of her actions at the best of times. That's why she was never trusted with running her own colony and expanding the Empire. She simply couldn't handle it... until her complaining finally annoyed her fellow Diamonds enough for them to give her her own planet: Earth.

It was there that Pink learned what colonization entailed: wiping the slate clean. Sucking all life from the Earth and leaving nothing behind. Disgusted, Pink took on the alias of Rose Quartz and staged a rebellion against herself, with Pearl as her dreaded sidekick, the terrifying Renegade Pearl.

Pearl idolized Rose for this. Feel in love with her deeply and completely, in a way she never knew she could feel about anyone before. So much so that, even as the consequences of Rose's actions feel down around them, Pearl held her up as something untouchable. Someone perfect.

These insecurities followed her years after the thousand year rebellion came to an end and even after Rose's death after that. Rose would give up her life to create a half human child and Rose would be tasked with raising him. An innocent young boy named Steven.

As one of the last three remaining Crystal Gems, Pearl is a deeply intelligent warrior, fighting on the front lines in a thousand year long war and continuing to fight dangerous superhuman beasts after that. She keeps a plethora or swords and spears stored in her gemstone, the very culmination of her being, which she can use to seal away objects and people. Her ambidextrousness and athleticism allows her to switch up strategies on the fly, fluidly dodging attacks with a dancer's grace, alternating between swords and spears on the fly, and summoning holograms of herself to train with her or assist in combat.

Pearl is skilled enough to train Connie Maheswaran up from a regular teenage girl into a nearly superhuman swordmaster who can cleave a car in half. Though it helps that her spears can shoot lasers from the tip. Not to mention all of her unique Gem powers. As a Gem, Pearl's body is actually a hard light inorganic construct that she can shapeshift to her will. She doesn't age, is completely immune to any human weaknesses like diseases, and she can regenerate her body from any amount of damage so long as her gemstone remains intact. Furthermore, she can trap and teleport opponents away with a bubble and fuse with any other willing Gem for an exponential boost in power.

It took a long time for Pearl to begin to process her grief and begin to see Rose for the flawed, nuanced person she actually was. Not helping matters how she and everyone else sort of treated Steven like a Rose 2.0, giving the poor boy a massive complex. But, as Steven did what his mother could not and brought peace between humanity and gemkind, Pearl grew and matured alongside him, redefining what it meant to be a Crystal Gem and learning how to always find a way to save the day.

Analysis: Undyne

Monsterkind has not seen the surface of the Earth in generations. Sealed away by mistrustful humans long ago, monsters now live beneath the surface of Mt. Ebott. With limited resources that will one day run dry, the monsters live a life without light and without hope.

The Underground needs a hero. Undyne, the Captain of the Royal Guard, is willing to step up to the challenge.

Inspired by heroes who served in the Human-Monster War, Undyne dedicated her life to training, hoping to claim the soul of the next human who fell Underground so that monsters can break the barrier and save themselves. And if she had to kill a child to do so, so be it. Monsters have suffered long enough.

Undyne, as Captain of the Royal Guard, is Natura one of the strongest monsters in the Underground, one of the few whose blows can stagger King Asgore himself. She can summon her spears to attack from any direction, even directly beneath the enemy's feet, and can circle around you to attack from the opposite direction they came from. Her magical spears do damage to both body and soul simultaneously, potentially even destroying your soul with one hit. Furthermore, Undyne can turn a foe's soul green, physically rooting them in place to keep her foe from evading or escaping her blows. Though, her sense of fair play does bite her here, as she has a tendency to provide her opponent with a shield to defend themselves with.

But, above all, Undyne's greatest strength is her determination. Her shear stubbornness rivals even that of other humans, allowing her to harness the spiritual essance of Determination in a way no other monster can. Regenerating from being split in half in a burst of desperate willpower to become the Undying.

As the Undying, Undyne is far and away the strongest being in the Underground, trumping even Asgore in sheer strength by a wide margin. Her attacks from every direction become nearly unavoidable and her sheer durability makes any fight with her a marathon.

The only problem is, it doesn't last forever. When Undyne reaches her limits in this form, she will begin to melt, as her body just cannot handle high concentrations of Determination like a human body can. As a monster, Undyne is extra vulnerable to attacks with a high killing intent, which Determination can't quite entirely negate. Against a human with greater Determination, her defeat is inevitable...

Luckily, if the Player has any conscience at all, that won't happen. If Frisk is allowed to show mercy, Undyne gets the chance to realize that not all humans are evil, setting aside her prejudice to help Frisk save the Underground from absolute destruction and break the barrier.

No matter your choices, Undyne will always be the Hero of the Underground.

Throwdown Breakdown:

This matchup is absolutely fascinating.

Calling back to my verdict in Peridot vs Sir Pentious, I do thoroughly believe that Gems have souls. Certain abilities such as Steven's astral projection and his ability to enter minds have spiritual connotations, so they should be susceptible to soul based attacks. As such, Pearl has never displayed any resistance to attacks that directly destroy your soul and could therefore be one shot by Undyne if she manages to get any hits off.

So, the question becomes: can Undyne land a single hit on Pearl?

Pearl far outstrips Undyne in terms of skill and experience. While Undyne's training with Asgore and Papyrus is impressive, especially considering the attacks both are capable of throwing out, she lacks Pearl's thousands of years of live battlefield experience. For every moment she's free, Pearl is going to be dancing and weaving circles around Undyne, with Undyne's short temper and tendency towards frustration exasperating this. If Frisk is capable of luring Undyne into Hotland for an environmental advantage, I think a fighter as acrobatic as Pearl is capable of the same.

However, Pearl's reliance on acrobatics means she's going to struggle that much more to adapt to Green Mode, effectively forcing her to stand there like a wall and deflect shots from all sides. It's a complete shift in mentality for her. It doesn't help that the few times Pearl has actually gotten hit, it's been because she was either distracted and thrown off her game, or suprised by something she's never seen before. This is both. She her losses against Spinel, Peridot, and the time she got poofed by her own holo-Pearl.

Back in Pearl's corner, she isn't very likely to push Undyne into the Undying state. Even if this were an "all morals off, Death Battle" scenario, Pearl is not a genocidal monster who would one shot Undyne through sheer hatred like the Player did in the Genocide Route. Undyne isn't going to be inspired to save the whole world from her. That said, this point goed back in Undyne's corner. Even without Undying, Undyne is still extremely tough to put down through sheer determination and Pearl is going to have to work very hard to wear her out.

In situations where Pearl wins, it'll come in the late fight, with Pearl adapting to Undyne's tricks with superior skill and experience while using her Holo-Pearls to outnumber her and beat her down from various ranges and with various styles. See her later rematches against Spinel and Peridot after adapting to their tactics. Unfortunately, Pearl doesn't have the margin for error she needs to last that long. Without any resistance to direct soul destroying attacks, Pearl is dead if she makes a single mistake, where Undyne can and will keep fighting even while melting into goo.

Pearl has all the tricks she needs to beat Undyne and she's doing everything right for a fight against her, but to win consistently, she'd have to be absolutely perfect. And given her track record in similar situations, she simply isn't.

This Throwdown's Winner is...

Undyne!

#fictional throwdown fridays #stats equalized #undertale #steven universe #pearl #undyne

[notleriff]

Colorful

“Look! For Gods’ sake, Anduion, you’re bleeding again!” 

Leriff lifted his fingers to tap gently at his nose, pulling his eyes from the rather exasperated Emmette Stringers to look down at the splash of blood on his fingertips. He chuckled quietly to himself and nodded. “Oh. So I am.”

“Don’t ‘so I–’” Emmette stopped to let out a frustrated growl, snapping her hands skyward to mimic strangling the taller man. “I am more than pleased with your performance, Anduion, and I recognize how well you do keeping me safe, but it hasn’t been long since we found you looking like–” She stopped again to shudder the memory away, not wishing to recall the vague, corpse-like shape she had found her guardian in after his rescue. “From this moment forward, you are being retired. Permanently, if it comes to that.”

“Do not be so dramatic, Stringers. I am perfectly fin–” When Emmette was on a rampage, no sentence was safe from her abrupt snap, not even Leriff’s. He lifted his cane in light-hearted defense with a smile as she waved a threatening finger in his face. 

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Anduion. Do not pretend!” The smaller woman took a few moments to compose herself, taking a few deep breaths to push the frustration back down. This was not the first time she had argued with the man over his health, and she doubted it would be the last. “You aren’t well, yet. I shouldn’t have taken you to that meeting. You can’t keep this up, Leriff.” With a tired sigh, Emmette softened, turning her eyes from the man’s bleeding nose to meet his gaze. “If you keep trying, you’re going to die, and no one wants that.” She narrowed her eyes at the man. “No one, am I clear?”

No response came, as Leriff simply held her gaze, looking like a chastised child. Emmette found this lack of denial all the more reason to continue with her decision. She had been relatively well taken care of before Leriff’s arrival, and she would surely be able to do so again without his help, even if it were a touch harder. “I’ve hired a young woman named Yurah Tsukino. She is going to take care of you while you recover. This is non-negotiable.” Emmette knew she couldn’t actually order Leriff around–the man was incorrigible; but, she hoped that some part of him, deep down, respected her enough to listen just this once, when it was most important. “Dismissed.”

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

The moment Emmette finally left his room, the faux smile on his face faded away. Leriff slowly wiped his nose with the handkerchief Emmette had stuffed into his hand before she had departed, cleaning the blood away. As far as the man was concerned, there was no actual cause for concern. He would work until he wore himself down, and then he would be left in a ditch, where he belonged. It wasn’t his choice to be rescued in the first place, and the frustration that Emmette couldn’t see that was only adding to the growing annoyance that she insisted he needed a caretaker. 

It was exhausting. All Leriff wanted to do was lie in bed until he was called upon, work until he was no longer useful and then return to bed to repeat the cycle. This was all the worth he offered the world anymore. The frustration built until it reached a boiling point, causing the man to vent his anger by throwing his walking cane to the side, toppling a vase of flowers. The beautiful arrangement was sent to him by the employees in Emmette’s company as a gift to hopefully speed along his recovery, and now they lay in ruins on the floor. Not that Leriff ever appreciated the colorful display, anyway. There was no light or color anymore–everything was gray, or at least that’s what it felt like.

The most effort he could muster without the cane was to collapse onto his bed, and there he remained. His eyes unfocused, he stared at the ceiling and began to spiral into his own pit of depression. This was too much effort to go to for him. He had done awful things in Baruto’s employ. And before that. And after that. His child was gone. His family gone. His sister gone, by his hand just moons ago. His life gone. His–

The sound of the door opening was enough to snap him out of the growing vacuum of panic, and he pushed himself to sit up to inspect the source. A timid, young miqo’te woman eased through the portal to his room, eyes darting between the man and the ruined vase. “Hello, Mister Anduion…” Her voice was chipper, almost a song, but her smile betrayed her anxiety.

He matched her smile with his own, though perhaps with less fear in it. It was gentle and kind and so well rehearsed. Leriff chuckled quietly and slowly shifted to turn off the bed and face the woman. “Ahh, you must be Tsukino. It is a pleasure, my friend.”

There was an energy in that smile that disarmed Yurah of her anxieties and she bounced into the room with a single step. “That’s me! I’ve been hired to help you with anything you require while you get better!” The outburst of excitement caused Yurah to catch herself and shuffle in place awkwardly. “Which…you probably already know.” She shifted in place before slowly making her way over to the fallen vase. “I’ll just…go ahead and clean this up.”

Normally, Leriff would have reached out to stop the woman, but the fact that she looked ready to die with embarrassment on the spot stayed his hand. He could let her have this distraction. “Thank you, Tsukino. I suppose I will be counting on you in the future.” Eventually, Emmette would tire of this charade and require his assistance again. He only had to put up with this for a short time. The man turned in place to once more climb fully into bed, though it did take him some time to do so comfortably. “When you are finished, you are free for the day. I plan to get some sleep.” With his back to the woman, he lifted his hand to wave dismissively in her direction. “Take the day to get settled in.”

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

“Mister Anduion..?” Yurah tapped her knuckles against the door to politely knock as she opened it slowly. “You’ve been in here for a few days. I thought maybe you’d like to try some exercise, today?” The tray of food she had brought earlier was barely touched. In fact, every tray of food that she had brought since starting her employment here had left the room in nearly the same state that it had entered it. Nothing in the room ever moved, including her ward. He laid about in bed, on his back, staring at the ceiling. He used to smile at her every time she entered, but he had given up on that, too, now all but ignoring her existence. Not that the smile was worth much to begin with. Yurah felt Leriff’s smile invoked the same sensation as that of an adorable mammet. It was gentle and pleasing to see, but that light never did reach his eyes.

She shuffled her way into the dwelling, collecting his cane from the nearby table along her way. Tapping it against her thigh to measure her steps as she walked, she stopped before the bed and offered it to the man. “I think you should go for a walk, sir.” The miqo’te was visibly collected, but inside she was positively shook. This was the first time she had been so direct in attempting to get her charge up and about, and the palpable fear in her throat made her feel faint. 

Leriff, however, simply rolled over to look at the woman. He wasn’t there, at least not mentally, and his eyes took long seconds to focus. When they did, he smiled and nodded his head in greeting. “Ahh, hello there, Tsukino.” After another moment to process what she had just said, he instead shook his head. “I am okay. Thank you. You can go home for the day.”

Yurah fidgeted with the cane in her outstretched hands, rocking on her heels. Her eyes flicked about to look at the belongings in the room. Nothing had been touched in days, and there was a thin layer of dust on nearly everything in the room to signal that perhaps things had remained untouched for even longer than that. She had tried for nearly a moon now to get the man to do literally anything, and failure after failure had weighed so heavily upon her that the sudden outburst of frustration was inevitable. “Mister Anduion, get out of bed!” She snapped as she redoubled her effort to shove the cane into his possession. “We are going for a walk!”

The exclamation caught Leriff off guard, and he was taken aback. His eyes swapped from the determined woman’s face to the cane she held out for him and back. Unable to help himself, he let out a soft chuckle, and the warmth that came with it surprised even himself. Leriff stretched out his hand to take the cane, using it to push himself to his feet. “Of course, Tsukino. Let us go for a walk.”

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

No matter how hard he swam, he couldn’t escape the sea. The waves crashed over and over, each one smashing into his body and pulling him deep beneath the surface. His lungs felt ready to burst and his arms screeched with pain. There was no amount of flailing that could keep him afloat, and despite his best efforts, he sank far below, to the pitch black bottom, far beyond where he could fight back.

“Mister Anduion! Leriff!”

Leriff snapped his eyes open and screamed at the top of his lungs as he jolted out of bed. He looked delirious, eyes wide with panic as his chest heaved, gulping down greedy breaths with each compression. The wild darting his eyes made around the room found solace as they fell onto Yurah, who stood at the foot of his bed in her pajamas, clutching her tail in a reflexive panic response as she called for his attention. 

Knowing exactly what had occurred, Leriff defaulted to his typical response. He shut his eyes tight and drew in one deep breath before exhaling, repeating the process until his heart calmed its erratic beats. This was but one of many nightmares he experienced over and over, and so he had developed this method to help calm himself after each one. Finally, once he had felt that panic subside, he opened his eyes and smiled at Yurah to put her at ease, as well. “I am okay, Tsukino. You may return to your room.”

“Mister Anduion–”

Leriff cut the woman off before she could continue. “I promise. I am fine. Please, return to your room.”

“Mister–”

“Enough, Tsukino. Go.” 

“Leriff.” Yurah let go of her tail to motion to the man’s arm, quietly mumbling quickly. “You’re bleeding.”

“Ahh–” Leriff turned his head to follow her gesture, lifting his hand to inspect the back of it. In his panic and thrashing, he had struck the head of his bed more than once, and had split his knuckles clean, blood trickling out and slowly staining his bedsheets. “Oh.” He couldn’t say why, or what was different, but the sight of the blood upset him deeply, this time. “So I am.”

Reaching inside the nearby cupboard, Yurah retrieved a rudimentary kit for first aid, unwrapping a line of bandages and coiling it around her fist. She tentatively approached Leriff’s bed before sitting upon it, taking his hand from him to begin wrapping his knuckles. The two sat in silence as she worked, and she took the time she had his hand to examine his arm. Yurah had seen the scars lacing along Leriff’s body like a cracked window, but being this close to them let her truly glimpse them in their entirety. The patchwork of burned skin, inflicted bruises, stitches and grafts made her uneasy, but not because of their horrible nature. No matter how hard or how long she considered it, she could never find a reason someone would let themselves get this bad. These weren’t mistakes, but rather blatant disregard for safety. “I bet a chirurgeon would be able to help some of these…” 

“Please, Tsukino. Not this again.” Leriff looked away from the woman as she worked to wrap his hand, having already had this conversation multiple times with the woman. 

“But–” Yurah stopped briefly to consider her words, but only shook her head as she resumed her work. “Even heroes have to take care of themselves, Mister Anduion.”

The chuckle that came was enough to interrupt her administration once more, but that disruption was short lived. “Well, good thing I am not a hero, then, ahh?” 

The final touches of the wrapping were made in complete silence. Once finished, Yurah stood up and cupped the remaining roll of bandage in both hands, taking a step back. “I think everyone has a hero in them, sir.” She returned the roll to the box and the box to the cupboard before returning her attention to Leriff. “If you haven’t found yours, you just haven’t looked hard enough, yet.” Yurah dipped low, bending straight at the waist as she bowed in respect before making her way from the room, shutting the door behind her.

Leriff flexed his fingers to test the tightness of the bandage, thoughts lingering on the woman’s closing remark. He lifted his other hand to pick at the bandage, something bright in it catching his eye. Yurah’s love of flora was evident in her dress, often wearing pretty jewelry with small bulbs of numerous colors woven in; and, tucked into his wrap like a good luck charm was a tiny flower. A parting gift, one that even in the darkness and gray void of the bedroom, Leriff could make out the brilliant yellow petals.

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

Exhaustion racked his whole body as he stumbled into his bedroom. The sun was setting, casting the room in a bright, amber glow. You gave the woman an ilm, she took a malm. Leriff was sure that any work he could have done would have been less stressful than the rehabilitation that Yurah put him through. Day after day, for moons now, he worked tirelessly at her behest in an attempt to reclaim even a fraction of that lost strength. And, despite this worn state, she expected him to return first thing in the morning for more. Using his cane for support, the weary man hobbled towards the bed, stopping only to inspect the package carefully arranged on his desk. He collected the note from it, lifting it to his eye to read over. 

Your coat needed help, so I fixed it. 

I hope you enjoy it.

-YT

Leriff placed the note down and let his cane rest against the desk as he took the paper wrapping in both hands, tearing it open. He pulled out his old, dark brown coat, with its burned and frayed edges, and looked it over. The holes had been patched, the stray strands plucked and the collar refit. Along the edges of the collar, right over where his chest would fit, two floral arrangements, embossed in red and white silk with purple thread adorned each side. Leriff was not accustomed to receiving gifts, and the shock of the generosity took an embarrassingly long time to fade. But when it did, he smiled brightly, a beaming so powerful it lit his eyes up. He set his coat back down and eyed his cane. Never had he felt so full of energy and ready to face the challenges of the next day. Walk again? He’d learn to run, if only so that he could keep up with her for even a minute more.

Be careful when you live in a world composed of shades of gray, or else you might forget what color looks like.

[swirly-potato]

hello i am writing a book in which the main character experiences a lot of trauma. please tell me if i’m writing this accurately.

Note: I know that every trauma response is different based on the person and the circumstances. This character, before the trauma, is a very didactic, intelligent person, and very caring, but a little socially inept and naive. (more below the cut)

Context: Alta (our character) is dropped into a fantasy world and separated from her best friend, who leaps in to try and find her. This world has magic, both in the form of ambient magic and tangible (spellcasting) magic. When Alta enters the world, she is given one of the magic categories: the ability to heal. The problem? Healers were wiped out by a powerful ruling force called the Academy, which then proceeded to strictly control as much magic as they could.

When her friend finds her, the meetup is incredibly happy. However, the friend has been manipulated into working for the Academy, not knowing they’re evil. When Alta reveals that she is a Healer, her friend reports her to the Academy, whose officers imprison her.

The trauma: After being dragged away by the Academy, Alta is knocked out for some time. Then, she is put into an arena (still dazed) where she is forced to fight her friend, who has been brainwashed (but Alta does not know that). She suffers mild burns all over her body and a severe burn+whip scar across her face (whip doused with kerosene and lit on fire). 

Then, she is locked in a cell for two years. The walls and floor are stone. Hygiene facilities, although provided, are inadequate (no toothbrushes, shower is heavily rusted, running water access is limited, sanitary/menstrual products barely work). The food is of subpar quality and barely nutritious enough to avoid malnourishment.

Temperatures rarely rise above 40F (4C), sometimes dropping below freezing at night. She is shackled to the wall and constantly being drained of any energy by machines that are meant to siphon off the Healer magic to keep it within the Academy’s control. 

For the first year, Alta does her best to keep her surroundings clean. The cell is devoid of any other life, save for her and whatever bacteria and spores there may be in the air. After the first year, Alta essentially begins to lose whatever remained of her sanity (her own words, not sure if that’s the right term).

After two years, the friend from before (who has been working her way up the ranks) comes in, blows up the place, and gets Alta out of there. However, she still has severe PTSD and trust issues from what happened.

What I have written, post-character trauma:

Alta cannot clearly remember any of the actual physical trauma- only a sense of hurt and despair.

Nightmares and dissociation are frequent.

Alta is now terrified of fire, whips, and people in masks.

Alta now speaks to others in a cold, guarded way (as opposed to the warm, formal way she spoke earlier)

Alta avoids being physically or emotionally vulnerable, putting up walls to stop any further harm.

I’ve been thinking about writing a scene where she’s whispering to herself, “I don’t want this, I don’t want this” and dazedly walking towards a very high cliff, intending to jump off. (Outcome not known yet.)

She is constantly fatigued/tired, has very little energy, and is physically weaker than before.

She is very territorial and aggressively protective of what is hers.

She takes a relatively long time to forgive, even for small things.

She keeps herself occupied with self-schooling.

She has developed a habit of pulling out her hair (although it did not last for more than a few months.)

And yes, she does heal. It takes nearly a decade, but she does heal. I just want to know if I’m writing the actual trauma part correctly, since I don’t have PTSD and have not experienced any form of trauma whatsoever.

Thanks and much love,

swirly-potato

#tw trauma #please help me write #tw physical violence #tw physical harm #tw mental torture #tw torture #tw imprisonment #tw betrayal #tw fictional genocide #tw medical trauma

[notchesandbullets]

Pure Affections Wrapped Up in a Dark Green Bow (Husband!Pro-Hero!Bakugou x Wife!Reader)

Art credit: @/gaysony on Instagram

Warnings: suggestive themes (there’s one steamy kiss and innuendoes sprinkled throughout), nudity (not sexual), fluff, cursing, injuries, hurt/comfort, soft!domestic!Bakugou and heartwarming present. 

Synopsis: You had been married to Bakugou for a couple years now and you had a special present for him. But when he gets home, it’s clear that he hasn’t had the best day. You’re there, steady and strong for him to lean on for support and he does until he’s capable of standing on his own again. This is what love looks like.

Words: 6k

The door to your flat slammed closed, signaling that your husband was home, and you wiped your grimy hands on your dirt-streaked cargo pants. You grabbed something and jumped on the counter, shoving it in a cabinet before closing it. Double checking to make sure you couldn’t see it, you leaped down, quelling your excitement as you sped out of the kitchen.

But your rapid footsteps faltered when Bakugou came into sight, looking absolutely drained. 

He dropped his duffle bag on the floor without a care and kicked off his shoes, never looking up once. 

“Katsuki?” 

Your soft voice brought him back down to reality and he sighed heavily, gripping the roots of his ash-blond hair in frustration. When he finally glanced up, his garnet eyes were laced with exhaustion. 

But everything melted away the instant he saw you.

Engine oil smudged on your cheeks, Bakugou refrained from snorting at the sight of your muddied cargo pants and stained, white tank top. You sure were a sight for sore eyes even when tinkering with your support items commissioned for big-time heroes like him.

“Hi.” You giggled as he dumped the rest of his stuff to the ground, closing the distance in between you two in three large strides.

You frowned as you noticed a slight limp in his gait but you didn’t get a chance to question it. Bakugou didn’t waste any time, trapping you in his arms and crushing your form to his chest.

He grunted his hello, but his eyes were soft and his smile was fond as he drew back slightly. He might’ve grown since his hot-headed days in high school as you helped him express his emotions but that didn’t mean all his ticks went away.

You just held him as his head plopped on your shoulder, sensing where his distress and aggravation was stemming from.

“Bad day?” You asked sympathetically, looping your arms around his neck so that you could card your fingers through his spiky hair.

He snorted but his fingers tightened from where they were gripping your waist. “Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

It was awful. He had gotten called away on a mission only to find out that his people mixed up who he was going up against and had given him skewed intelligence. He would’ve fucked them up for a mistake like that if it wasn’t for that column that landed on his leg and trapped it. He was fortunate that Recovery Girl had made a special trip to see him or else he would still be in the hospital. 

You smiled sympathetically at the bite in his tone and pressed a kiss to his temple in an effort to calm him. “You want to talk about it?”

Bakugou shook his head no. All that could come later, right now, he just wanted to to hold you in his arms. Because when he did, it was like all was right with the world.

You didn’t press the issue. Instead, after coaxing him to stand on his own two feet so that you weren’t dragging his weight around the complex, you led him to your shared bedroom.

“C’mon, bathtime.” You encouraged softly.

Bakugou didn’t fight you as you guided him into the simplistic yet modern bathroom and he lifted his arms up as you tapped his wrists to indicate what you wanted him to do so that you could take his shirt off. 

You turned around so he could strip the rest of the way and started to run the bath. You left the lights off on purpose so that the harshness of it wouldn’t hurt his eyes. Instead, the window provided natural light. 

Adding a couple bath salts and essential oils (even though he claimed he hated the way it smelled) to aid in his relaxation, you adjusted the temperature of the water to chanced a glance back at the man draped over you. Your brow furrowed and a frown pinched the edge of your mouth as he leaned against you more than usual. He was more hurt than he was letting on.

Slinging his heavy arm around your shoulder, you supported him and helped him into the tub. He had already undressed the rest of the way but your brow furrowed as he struggled to lift his left leg. Eventually, you were able to lower him without a problem and you grinned triumphantly at the feat accomplished but it went unnoticed by your husband.

Bakugou frowned tiredly when you didn’t follow him in. 

“Come here.” He rasped, his voice heavy and laced with a burden he didn’t want to voice.

Your expression softened but you shook your head. You were so dirty from working in your workshop. If anything, you needed a shower. He could soak by himself and then come eat dinner when he was ready and up for it.

But Bakugou tugged on your hand, insisting. 

“I don’t give a shit.” He growled lowly. “Get in here, dumbass.”

Shaking your head at his crude language, you squeaked when he yanked you towards him. Your breath caught in your throat as he was now an inch away from your face, his hot exhales mingling with your gasp of surprise. 

“You’re not asking, are you?” You sighed dramatically but smiled to let him know that you were just kidding. “Alright, give me a second.”

As soon as you took your clothes off, you clambered in the bath with him, facing him because you didn’t trust him not to try anything in this state where you were both nude. 

He wrinkled his nose, giving away his displeasure as you stayed an arm’s length away from him but you didn’t care and urged him to scoot forward so that you could start to clean him. 

Bakugou hissed as your nails dragged against his scalp. “Taking a damn bath is fucking dirty.”

“The water gets so fucking disgusting.” He scowled, huffing scornfully when he saw how brown the water was turning already.

You shrugged, focusing on a patch of particularly rough sediment clinging to his chest. 

Bakugou took this moment of peace in time to observe the way your brow furrowed in concentration, how your nose flared and your lips pursed. 

You hardly ever let him watch you at work in the shop, giving him a shitty excuse that he distracted you or some shit.

Fucking lame. 

You were a vision when you were working on things that you were passionate on. He could watch you for hours and never get tired. He actually had, on several occasions, had gotten in trouble with his PR team more than once because he skipped or forgotten about a press conference meant to boost his publicity.

Not that he really needed more. If anything, as a top ten hero, he needed less.

All he wanted was to lay in bed and fall asleep with you in his arms. Was it too much to ask for that of the world? To give him an uneventful night of peace where he wasn’t called away to work, to be able to wake up with you in the morning when the sun rose above the skyline and greet you with breakfast in bed instead of a scrawled note that told you how much he loved and missed you since he couldn’t stick around. 

You never minded. You never complained about the hardships once.

You knew that when you agreed to marry him you knew exactly what you were signing up for. And you never regretted it.

Sure, the days were hard. You had work and friends to keep you more than occupied but at the end of the day, it boiled down to commitment and how much you loved him. That wasn’t to say that waiting was easy, not at all.

Because everyday you had to worry about whether or not he would make it home that night. Whether he was eating properly and getting enough rest. How every time you turned on the news you held your breath as you flicked through the channels, hoping and praying that your husband wouldn’t be on the front of those stories that broadcasted the death of a hero for the whole nation to see. 

But he was worth it. He was worth your unconditional love for him and every single moment of waiting. You would always wait for him because there was no one else you’d rather be with.

Bakugou almost fell asleep in the tub as you bathed him without being prompted. Normally, he's have some kind of irritation flashing through him as he was forced to endure your loving touch that he absolutely did not need. Or treasure.

Or was the only thing he was able to think of when you tended to him with the utmost care.

Fuck.

He had learned fairly early on in your marriage that being vulnerable didn't not constitute the same as being weak in his definition. But it got easier as time passed and he saw that you would be the last person on earth to judge him or think less of him because of his limitations. 

It had taken a while but eventually you broke down those high walls of his, embracing him in the midst of the maze he had built up around his heart to protect himself and kissed the top of his head as he leaned down. 

You got him. All of him. 

There was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than by your side. 

Bakugou’s head lolled back against the backsplash as your nails scratched against his scalp.

He exhaled deeply. “Fuck, that feels good.” 

You fought back a cheeky smile. You knew him well and all of his weak spots.

Bakugou’s eyes fluttered closed as you continued to clean him. Usually, he would insist you turn around and relax so that he could take care of you but all the energy was sapped out of him. He was lucky he had someone like you to sit here with him after a shitty day, not ask any questions, but just simply be with him. 

You squeaked in surprise when he suddenly brought you in for a hug and you blushed a rosy red when he nuzzled unabashedly into the valley of your breasts.

“Katsuki!!” You exclaimed in shock, your fingers winding in his hair when he didn’t let you go. Your eyes shot open when he tugged you into his lap. He was never this forward and he usually waited a good couple hours to initiate any kind of physical contact after a rough day at work.

Today must have been particularly bad. 

“Thank you.” Bakugou grunted, the voiced appreciation coming out muffled from where he was attached to your chest.

Gaze softening, understanding filled your eyes and you gently kissed the top of his head. “You’re welcome.”

Discreetly, you grabbed the soap to finish his bath, sudsing yourself in the process. Bakugou didn’t complain once as the water turned dark with dirt, even though he was barking about it earlier, simply basking in your presence and breathing you in while you took care of him.

He toweled off first, per your insistence since you still needed to wash your hair.

As soon as you dried off, you gestured for him to hand you the antibiotic so that you could get to work on those cuts of his. He protested the entire time.

“This doesn’t even hurt, why do you have to put a fucking—”

Bakugou broke off with a hiss of pain as you pressed down slightly harder than you needed to in order to emphsize your point.

“Katsuki…” You warned, your eyes blatantly telling him not to fight you on this or else he’d regret it. He got it rather quickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” He mumbled, averting his eyes. “Fine. Do your fucking shit or whatever.”

You weren't thrown off by the indifferent tone in his voice. He needed to know that you weren’t going anywhere. 

He always got agitated anytime he got hurt. It was only natural for someone who grew up thinking they had to be strong all the time.

Gently pressing down on his thigh, you paid special attention to when he winced.

“It’s just bruised.” You threw him a pointed glance, knowing what he was going to deny. “Recovery Girl came by?”

“Yeah.” Bakugou hissed under his breath. “Shitty nerd called her before I could say a damn word.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well thank goodness for that because everybody knows you would screw that up.”

“Oi.” He growled at your snark. “Not fucking funny.”

You grinned. “Wayyyy funny.”

Your smile faded as you continued to patch him up, inspecting him thoroughly to make sure you hadn’t missed anything. He had a tendency to hide how bad his injuries were and although you could understand why, you didn’t appreciate the times he was literally knocking on death’s door and would die if he didn’t receive medical attention.

Those times, you weren’t all that forgiving.

Gesturing to his leg that he had been favoring since he came home, you arched an eyebrow in silent questioning. 

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “It’s fine.”

You crossed your arms over your chest but didn’t push it. He could still walk on it so it was probably fine. His pride was probably what was hurt more. Either that or the mission had gone bad and he had been too late.

Swallowing harshly, you knew not to cross that line. 

As the two of you exited the bathroom, you left behind the tense atmosphere and relaxed as you stepped back into the living area, making your way to the kitchen with great difficulty as Bakugou peppered kisses to your neck in a wordless thanks for helping him.

And the instant you arrived in the kitchen, you sprang away from him.

“Surprise!!” You shouted excitedly, waving your hands at the simple meal set up at the table. 

There was a single cinnamon and spice candle that sat in the center of the white tablecloth. He never was one for extravagance but you put in a little extra effort today.

At his silence, your arms dropped and you played with your fingers nervously, thinking that he didn’t like it. Or maybe that he found it annoying and just wanted to be left alone and now he would have to eat dinner with you.

You started to ramble as you began to panic. “I-I thought we could do something nice, since it’s your birthday, and I know since the pandemic, things have been really hard on you guys so I thought it would be nice to relax and—”

You cut off with a squeak as he swept you up into his arms and off your feet, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Cheeks flushing bright red, your stammering came to a halt as he let out a shaky exhale against your heated skin.

“Thanks.” 

It came out quieter than his usual volume, taking you by surprise, but you still heard it nonetheless.

You didn’t tease him. Maybe later when he could handle it, but not now. 

Stroking his hair comfortingly, you grounded him in reality before guiding him to sit at the table. He had tried to hide how happy he was from you but he couldn’t. Not one bit.

You knew him too well.

Letting him rest his feet, knowing he must’ve been standing and running around all day to correct mistakes, defeat villains and save people.

You moved to go sit down on the opposite side of the table like you normally everyday at dinnertime but the arm locked around your waist stopped you.

Glancing back quizzically, you yelped as Bakugou pulled you down into his lap, pressing your back flush against his broad chest.

He didn’t say anything, and if you had to guess, you figured that his brow was probably furrowed in annoyance and his mouth was pressed in a thin line at indulging in something as simple as your company and affection, but you could let him have this.

He deserved it after all. 

Twisting around, you planted a gentle kiss to his jaw, raising a hand up to tilt his face down towards you.

“Happy birthday, Katsuki.” You breathed, eyes shining with emotion. 

Two years. It had been two years since he demanded that you marry him. You couldn’t believe it when he asked you. 

Unlike most couples, you two hadn’t dated much at all. Your first date was a home-cooked meal at his apartment that he shared with Kirishima at the time, a day before the wedding. 

Your friends were shocked, to say the least. 

But you two were close. You might not have dated like how many people would classify it, but the two of you knew each other better inside out for most of your lives and was often the first one called whenever there was a villain incident that the other had gotten hurt in. 

Bakugou hadn’t cared that the public knew about you. He had originally wanted to keep it a secret so that you were better off in terms of safety-wise, but you had nothing to hide, telling him to let them try. 

They wouldn’t break you.

Your relationship might’ve seemed rushed to some, frantic and panicked, but it couldn’t be more off from the truth. 

The thing was, you just knew. You knew that if it was going to be anyone, if you could see yourself with one person for the rest of your life, it would be with him. 

No one else even came close. 

But you were still surprised when Bakugou admitted the same, just in fewer words. 

After going through everything, the USJ incident where you had gotten hurt taking a hit from the Nomu for him, the kidnapping where he was ripped away right in front of your eyes, to where he was the one to finally be able to rescue you during a break-in at Heights Alliance, he just knew.

Like you, after risking your lives for each other countless times and finding solace in each other after it was all said and done meant a lot. Meant more than he could put into words. 

You squeaked as the arms around you tightened out of the blue, concern filling your gaze as you leaned back into his chest. 

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, your small hands covering his on your waist as you sank into his embrace, tilting your head up so that you could see him clearly.

Bakugou’s vermilion eyes snapped towards you as he was broken out of his reminiscing. He grunted in your direction, internally wincing at how short he was being with you even if you didn’t even seem to mind. 

His wistful smile transformed into a full-blown smirk as you grabbed a piece of korean barbeque off of his plate and popped it in your mouth. 

Bakugou’s breath tickled your ear as he leaned forward and his low voice, though rough with exhaustion, held a touch of amusement. “I saw that, dumbass.” 

You blinked up innocently at him, kicking your feet childishly and he shook his head, pinching your side in retaliation. You jumped and smacked his chest, blushing deeply as a chuckle reverbated against your back. 

“Katsuki!!”

“Fucking dumbass.” He muttered into your hair, unconsciously catching a whiff of the coconut and pineapple shampoo you used. You smelled even sweeter than usual, it was dulling his senses. But he was not complaining. 

You smiled to yourself, snuggling into his warmth. It was quiet moments like this when there was nothing else but the company of him surrounding you and the ambiance of a safe place that you loved the most.

Heart at ease, you were surprised to hear that his heartbeat matched yours. 

Your teeth worried into your bottom lip cheekily and before he could tease you any further, you redirected his attention to his mostly untouched plate, insisting that he eat.

Bakugou was generally pretty good about staying on top of meals and eating healthy to balance out all the exercise he got working as a hero, but lately things had hit him hard and he had been slacking off more than usual.

You were quick to catch it before it got too bad though. 

Bakugou’s eyes shimmered with a hint of unspoken emotion. He was so lucky to have you.

Moving to get up so that you could get your food from across the table, you gasped as his arms squeezed around your midsection, preventing you from leaving.

“Don’t leave.” Bakugou muttered, his brow furrowed as a hint of a pout appeared on his face. 

You giggled softly at his childish antics. “I’ll be right back.”

He could be so clingy sometimes, not that you were complaining. You were just as bad. There was something about being in his embrace and letting him hold you that made you feel safe, made you feel like you were at home.

Although it was rare and far in between, he did occasionally let you cuddle him. It had taken a while into your marriage for his walls to come crumbling down, but once they did, you never once made fun of him for what he needed or asked for. 

Pouting when your beloved husband didn’t let you free, you blinked up at him with doe eyes.

You wiggled in his lap when he still didn’t release you. “Katsuki—”

“No.” He growled stubbornly. 

You sighed, trying to appear as disheartened as possible. “But I’m hungry.”

“You can eat my fucking food, dumbass.” Bakugou huffed.

Folding your arms over your chest stubbornly, you frowned. He wasn’t going to eat the food you made? Even after going all day without eating his meals?

Oh hell no. 

You squirmed in his lap, now trying to pry his unyielding grip off so that you could reach your own plate that was probably cold by now on the other side of the table. 

“Katsuki, please?” You pleaded and his frown faltered.

Why did you have to be so damn cute? It wasn’t fair.

While he was distracted, you swiped your plate from across the table and settled back into his lap cheekily, sighing contentedly as he was left in a stunned silence.

“Oi, what the fuck?”

You giggled, waving your chopsticks at him. “What the matter, Katsuki? Cat got your tongue?”

He glared at you but it faded as you laughed harder and he found a small smile lifting up the edges of his mouth.

Dinner consisted of light banter back and forth as he stuffed the food you had made in his mouth, begrudgingly admitting that it tasted good when you eagerly asked.

He tapped your hip to get you to stop squirming once you finished eating but you retorted that he was taking too long. 

He needed to finish, you had something to give him. 

Bakugou arched an eyebrow and purposefully went slower until you smacked his arm with an indignant cry at his audacity. He barked out a laugh, his chest shaking as you pushed out your bottom lip at him childishly.

“Fucking brat.” He muttered fondly and you beamed at the soft tone he took on.

“You love me~” You sang, pecking his cheek.

“Go die.” He hissed, attitude back faster than you could blink.

You insisted that he finish his meal before you revealed what you were holding back from him. 

Bakugou wasn’t going to admit that the curiosity was eating away at him as you dangled the unknown of his head like something to be played with and he was almost ashamed at how he quickened his pace.

Almost.

He didn’t react when you clambered off of his lap but his eyes widened when you climbed on top of the counter.

Chair scraping back and crashing to the tiled floor with how abruptly he stood up, he was by your side in a split second.

“Fuck— You’re going to fucking fall!!!” He cursed violently, chest heaving as he panted hard.

You giggled lightly, leafing through the spices you kept on the top shelf in order to find what you were looking for. “Relax, Katsuki, I’m fine.”

You started keeping them all on the very top after he dumped an entire bottle of chili pepper into your dinner one night. You were not amused at the shit-eating grin on his face that came from getting his fix of spicy food.

After that, it was only salt and pepper from then on, much to his dismay.

Bakugou didn’t look at all reassured by your words and he was strongly thinking about climbing up there with you just so he could catch you if you lost your balance when you squealed joyfully and hopped back down.

Thank fuck. You were going to give him a heart attack one day. 

After you ushered him to sit back down, you presented the culprit as to what your dodgy behavior was all about.

Bakugou’s vermilion eyes widened when you proudly handed him a carefully wrapped gift box. The pattern on the paper was simple and you didn’t go overboard with decorating it, settling for a small bow on top. 

He appreciated it. 

Even though to the untrained eye it looked like you hadn’t spent much effort, he knew that it was in fact the very opposite. He could see where you had meticulously folded the paper so that it laid flat and didn’t crease or wrinkle. The dark green bow vaguely reminded him of Deku, but more of the time when you said you loved the green in his hero costume because of how much it contrasted against his eyes. 

Your words, not his.

He couldn’t fucking care less about the color except for the fact that you said you liked it. That stuck with him more than he would’ve liked to admit. 

Bakugou’s hand shook slightly as he accepted the gift. “You weren’t supposed to get me anything, brat.”

You only rolled your eyes humorously, planting your hands on your hips. “Oh please, like I’m not going to get you something for your birthday.”

You may have had a habit of going all out for things like his birthday and holidays and he hated it because he never knew what to do with those warm, fuzzy feelings you left him with, giving him those wide smiles of yours that lit up the room as though he had created the universe and blinked up at him with your bright, loving doe eyes that melted his heart.

So instead, his competitive spirit spurred on to compensate for the lack of emotional capacity he had to deal with all of these unwanted feelings. 

It frustrated and flattered you to no end.

“You better fucking remember this when yours comes around then, dumbass.” Bakugou smirked, shooting you a sharp look when your jaw dropped. He would return the favor and go overboard when yours came around.

You blinked. The nerve he had. He knew you two were trying to save up funds so that you would have a stable foundation when you were ready to have kids. “W-Wait, Katsu—”

“Too late.” He rejected flatly, his eyes twinkling with a touch of amusement as he dodged your attempts to take back the present. 

His present. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bakugou snapped as you lost your balance and crashed face-first into his chest while trying to get it back.

You floundered for a second, trying to get your bearings but your husband was too fast and beat you to it. He set the box down in flash in order to catch you.

Hooking your legs around his waist so that you didn’t fall again, his palm splayed against your lower back, teasing with the hem of your shirt before it dipped underneath. 

You jolted as his warm hand came in contact with your chilly skin and you shivered. 

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed accusingly at you. “You’re cold.”

Blushing, you tried to hide only for him to be one step ahead of you and yank your wrists away from your face. 

“Fucking idiot.” He muttered to himself and you giggled, bouncing excitedly in his lap now that your life was no longer in danger from falling ungracefully off of a chair. 

“Open it, open it, open it!!” You chanted over and over again, tugging at his arm enthusiastically. 

Bakugou grimaced at your volume. “Stop fucking yelling in my ear, you shitty woman.”

But he froze and his whole body tensed the second he opened the lid. 

You blinked at him nervously, brushing back your hair anxiously as you waited for him to say something. Unable to wait as the silence stretched on, you pointed out each one of the items sitting in the container to explain what they were so he didn’t just think you gave him a pile of junk as a gag gift. 

“They’re specialized compression arm bands for when you’re out in the field to help reduce the muscle strain but they won’t be affected by your quirk, you’d have to try really hard to destroy them and even then—”

“Thank you.”

You stopped your nervous rambling and blinked up at him in shock. Was that genuine gratitude you detected in his voice without the usual mask of nonchalance?

You giggled, almost not believing your ears. He didn’t even bother disguising it. “Wow, the world must really be ending.”

“Shut the fuck up and die.” Bakugou hissed.

Ah, there it was. 

You grinned widely. “You really like it?”

“Course, you shitty woman.” He glowered, slipping them on to try it out. 

Bakugou remembered telling you about the strain overusing his quirk caused on his arms but when push came to shove, he didn’t care if he destroyed his body when it came to saving the day. But that was years ago. 

Back when you had first met and he had blown you up during a training session. Literally. The burns landed you in Recovery Girl’s office and after that, he had walked in to begrudgingly apologize but you just looked up at him with that same kind face that greeted him everyday and asked him if it always hurt to use his quirk for such huge blasts.

You weren’t even offended by the fact that he had hurt you. It was true that he didn’t ever hold back against opponents, even when training, but even he admitted that he might’ve gone too hard.

Maybe.

But to think you not only remembered it but also worked through that pretty brain of yours to come up with a solution like this. 

All the support tech in the world didn’t have a material that could withstand his nitroglycerin when he ignited it. 

You were incredible.

Bounding up to your feet eagerly, you didn’t give him any time to throw a tantrum that you had detached yourself from him as you begged for him to try them out. 

“Hah?” He glowered. “You want me to use my quirk indoors?”

But he raised his hands anyway. You were always the one to enforce the rule of him not using his explosion inside, since it was destructive even with his fine control over it. You must’ve been really excited to see him try it out.

His palms popped with sparks at first and he raised an eyebrow as a cooling sensation kicked in automatically. Slowly, he built up his power until he fired a controlled AP cannon that shattered the vase from across the room. 

You cheered and clapped your hands gleefully at how well it worked. It had changed blue when it activated, signaling that the cooling agent was doing its job.

Flexing his hands, Bakugou noticed how his arms weren't as sore as they normally were. 

He took them off and turned it over in his hands, examining it closely. “How did you do it?”

You went on a rant, enthusiasm taking over every inch of your being as you eagerly explained how you created the material, a hybrid of some sort of elastic that could withstand high heats woven in with a cooling agent to soothe his muscles when they were overworked. The threads that made up the compression bands were fireproofed down to their molecular level, an expensive process but possible with the right amount of funds, along with a ton of time and patience.

All of which you had as you spent a huge chunk on the money you had saved up for this.

Your husband’s expression softened into something that vaguely resembled fondness as your eyes shone with excitement over your newest piece of tech. Specially made just for him. 

Fuck, he was whipped.

Bakugou buried his face into your chest and you yelped in surprise, tugging his hair to pry him off of your body but he just groaned and stubbornly refused to move.

“Katuski!!” You protested, your hands shooting to the arms that were wrapped around your torso and pressing you close to him. “I’m dirty!!”

A blatant lie since you had bathed with him but you were desperate. This would inevitably end up in the bed if you didn’t push him off you right now. 

You had been working in the shop all day to finish these up, just able to wrap the specialized compression sleeves in time before he came home. And because all of your clothes were currently being washed since there was an accident in your workshop a few days ago, you had to throw on your dirty tank top and cargo pants after scrubbing it as best as you could; and it was not the most appealing or flattering on your body. 

It was clear your husband thought otherwise though.

“Don’t care.” Bakugou grumbled into your chest, his meaty hands going down to cup your butt.

You smacked his chest, telling him off, squeaking when he retaliated by squeezing your ass firmly. Rolling your eyes at the cheeky smirk on his face, you kissed his nose softly and his expression crumbled away to the softness that you knew had always lurked behind his guard.

“Happy birthday, Katsuki…” You whispered, a millimeter away from his lips. “I love you.”

You hadn’t even finished your declaration before his hand was snaking around the back of your neck, closing the distance in one go and crushing your mouth to his. 

You whined as he dominated your mouth, his tongue demanding entrance. You decided to play with him a bit and kept your lips pursed. He growled at your disobedience and you shifted giddily in his lap, yelping when he nipped your bottom lip. 

He groaned against your mouth as you ground your pelvis into his.

Bakugou thought this was going to go somewhere with how much you were teasing him but to his frustration, you climbed off of him, panting hard to catch your breath.

You winked. He knew that glint in your eyes. 

“Catch me if you can!!” You shouted over your shoulder as you sprinted towards the living room and took refuge behind the couch. 

“What the fuck….” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head at your childish antics as you raced out of view. 

He stomped into the living room. 

“Oi, get out from behind there, dumbass.” He growled.

When you didn’t reply, he rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently. 

“I know you’re there, shitty woman.” “He drawled. “I can see your fucking foot.”

Your indignant squeak made the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement but the look was quickly wiped off of his face as a foam bullet whizzed past his ear. You had just declared war.

A wide smirk spread across Bakugou’s face at the invitation of a challenge and forgoing his shirt, he sank low to the ground. He didn’t even bother to take one of the other guns where they were stored. He was going to beat you in hand to hand so easily it was going to be embarrassing.

“Just remember when you fucking lose,” He started, cracking his knuckles loudly. “Don’t come crying, dumbass.”

“I don’t cry— Hey!! That’s cheating!!”

Your confident reply broke out into a whine halfway through your sentence as Bakugou leaped over the couch and tackled you to the floor, pushing the gun away so you couldn’t shoot at him anymore.

“You’re such a fucking child.” He snorted, stealing a kiss from you before you could say anything.

“But you love me anyways~” You sang, repeating your declaration from earlier as you booped his nose softly.

Bakugou huffed indifferently, a proud smirk stretching across his face as his true feelings won over. 

“Damn right I do.”

#bakugou x reader #husband bakugou x wife reader #bakugou x reader onshot #bnha #bnha bakugou #domestic bakugou #domestic bakugou x reader #domestic bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #happy birthday bakugou #bakugou x reader fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou x reader fanfiction #bnha bakugou x reader onshot #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugou domestic fluff #hurt and comfort #bnhacity

[deepdarkdelights]

Run Little Red (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Werewolf Namjoon, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of discovering dead bodies, People going missing, Devious Intentions, Depictions of Guns, Mourning, Wolf Courtship Rituals

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

<<Forbidden Fables Masterlist>>

Preview:  A calm life in a small village was all you ever knew, your days spent in the bakery and keeping to yourself. You liked the quiet and gentle nature of your life, but one day a wolf stands outside of your window, a stranger arrives, and people begin to go missing. Do you dare don your red coat and enter the forest?

A/N: Hello babes! My fellow authors and myself decided to change up the order of our release dates for our Forbidden Fables Collab! And, since I recently finished this little beauty, I get to release it first. yay! Now I can sit back and savor the delectable writings of my fellow authors 💜 I hope you enjoy Run Little Red it was fun to make! I can’t wait to read the comments and asks 💜

There was a wolf outside your window. 

It’s eyes gleaming in the early morning light like molten gold with silver fur that melted into the snow. 

You sat up in bed, wrapping your patchwork quilt around your shoulders as you scooted to the foot of the bed. It was staring at you, that much you were sure of. And that startled you, the almost human like appearance to its gaze was intense and unsettling. It was an animal, but it appeared to be far more intelligent than you had first anticipated. 

Maybe it was hungry, perhaps that was why it was so intent on peering through your window.

No, it certainly wasn’t, that was evident. What you had missed before was glaringly obvious now, its silver muzzle was stained in red. It had made a fresh kill before it had wandered over to your cottage mere feet from the woods. 

So, if it wasn’t hungry, why was it here?

You watched in morbid fascination as its tongue slipped out of its mouth and laved over the fresh, thick, crimson blood that decorated its muzzle. You could see the rows of sharp canines hidden within its maw for mere seconds before the wolf clenched its jaw shut and settled on its hindlegs in the drift of snow.

“My, what big teeth you have.” You whispered to yourself, your voice seemingly louder in the empty room.  

You couldn’t help but wonder what it had made it’s meal. Perhaps a deer, or a squirrel, maybe a bird, or even a small, innocent, little rabbit. 

That would have been ideal. But, you knew it was most likely one of the poor farmer’s livestock. Your village was small and self sufficient, rarely reaching out to its neighboring villages and rarely receiving visitors of its own. So, when the cattle and the goats began to disappear, only their entrails remaining, the town quickly became suspicious. 

It was either one of two things, rebellious teenagers making a hassle for everyone, or a wolf amongst you.   

If only you had known what was to come. 

You stared back warily out the window at the creature, suddenly realizing just how easily it could bust through your flimsy window if it wanted to. This wolf was probably the largest you had ever seen, it was almost the size of a pony, with long limbs that held thick muscle from the time it spent chasing down its prey. You were certain a simple snap of its jaws would kill you in an instant if it desired to do so. 

It’s gaze had not left you, petrifying you to your very spot. You felt like the two of you were playing a game, waiting to see who would be the one to make the first move. 

The call of your mother’s voice was the tie breaker. 

You rose to your feet, your bare skin brushing over the cool wood of the floor as you retreated through your door, back first. 

“Yes?” You replied, angling your neck to the hallway for a moment. 

“Hurry, sweetheart! You’re going to be late!” She called back from the kitchen. 

The bakery had been in your family for the past three generations now, starting with your grandfather, then your mother, and now you. Your mother was showing signs of her age now, her hands were unsteady and unreliable creating more of a mess than a sellable meal. So, it was your turn now. It was the only thing you could do for her, besides be married off and you weren’t quite ready for that. No one was. 

At least that was the gentle way of putting it, in reality you had made yourself quite the social pariah. You were a determined woman, one who liked to keep to herself, one who liked owning the bakery and not having to sign over the ownership to a husband. You had your mother to care for, a business to run, and a grandmother that lived deep in the woods to fret over. 

It didn’t really matter what you wanted, you did what was necessary to stay afloat. 

“Just a minute!” You called once more before slinking back into your room. 

There was a noticeable difference about the space now, the wolf was gone. The only sign he had ever been there being the large dip in the snow that his form had disrupted and a track of paw prints headed into the forest. How strange. 

You shook your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts, you didn’t want to think about what you would have to do if the creature returned. The shotgun looming over you from above the front door said enough.

You couldn’t allow a predator to get comfy around your home, that would only invite trouble into your life.

You dressed yourself quickly that morning in as many layers as you could. The walk to the bakery wasn’t a far one, but it was a frigid one. You made sure to wear your wool stockings and your leather boots, the snow looked to be thick and you didn’t fancy the idea of wet feet all day while you worked. 

You leaned over the side of your bed, scooping up your bag and throwing the keys inside of it in one motion. The extra sleep you had gotten the night before had cost you the time you needed in the morning to ready yourself. 

Once you gave yourself a quick look over and ran through your mental checklist, you rushed out of your room and into the main room of the house. Your house was more like a cottage, it was incredibly small. With only your mother’s room, your room, and the kitchen in one corner with the fireplace in the other it made for a quaint and cozy home. Albeit a cramped one. 

“Your breakfast is on the table.” Your mother said, smoothing a stray hair behind her ear with trembling hands. 

You could see her cleaning up the mess she had made that morning in an attempt to show you kindness. Normally, you were the one to wake early and prepare the both of you for the day ahead. But she had also told you many times before that she was your mother and she was supposed to take care of you as well. 

You eyed the bowl of steaming porridge that sat upon the rickety table. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to eat it.”

“Then you’ll make the time.” She huffed, wiping a wet rag over the counter in two swipes. 

“I shouldn’t have overslept.” You sighed, resting your bag on the floor as you took a seat. 

“You needed the rest, dear. You’re up every morning at the crack of dawn and you don’t come home until nightfall. You don’t need to work that much.” She chided you, smoothing her hands over your hair in a fond manner. 

“I do, for you and for Grandmother.” You reminded her. The cost of living was not cheap. 

“And what about you? You should be spending time with people your age, not working yourself to the bone.”

“I don’t need anyone but you, and Grandmother.” You smiled before sipping at your spoon quickly, hissing as you burned the tip of your tongue in your haste. 

“Youth is wasted on the young.” She chided under her breath, spurring a giggle from your throat. 

You finished your food as quickly as you could before excusing yourself from the table and heading for the door. 

“Your cloak, dear!” Your mother called as you pulled the door open, the chill of the snow seeping into your bones. 

“Yes, mother!” You chirped with an amused roll of your eyes as you curled your fingers around the crimson fabric of the cloak. Your grandmother had made it herself two winters ago, as much as you loved it and her you had to admit it was a tad ostentatious and you weren’t exactly one for attention. But it was warm and it served its purpose well. 

The door creaked shut behind you, squeaking softly as it settled back into the frame. The snow had fallen much higher than you had previously anticipated. You tightened the ties of your cloak and delicately flipped the large hood over your head before gripping your layers of skirts and hiking them up as you began your journey. 

It was rather slippery that day, you couldn’t restrain the slight squeals that fell from your parted lips each time the heel of your boot found a patch of ice and sent you sliding. You were certain you should have caught the attention of a few passerbys, but to your surprise a large group of them had become preoccupied. 

There were about fourteen of them, all in one great circle fervently discussing something. They seemed to be worried, panicked even. It had caught your attention now that the group was made up mostly of men excluding the butcher’s wife and daughter. Both’s cheeks were stained red, their eyes brimming with unshed tears as they held onto each other tight in the crisp air. 

Your face tensed in confusion as you approached the bakery, the group not too far away from you. 

“Oh, poor Sarah.” A tender voice cooed worriedly from next door. It was the tailor, she and her apprentice were stood outside, thick shawls wrapped around the both of them. 

You occupied yourself by rifling through your leather satchel, pretending to look for the shop keys you held in that very hand. You knew that eavesdropping wasn’t very polite, but you also were the curious sort, and that curiosity demanded to be satiated. 

“Don’t worry, miss. I’m sure they’ll find him soon, you know how the young ones are.” The apprentice said, her hand resting on the tailor’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort. 

“It’s not like William though, he’s a sweet boy. It doesn’t make any sense for him to go up and missing at the crack of dawn.” She replied, her dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I just find it funny is all, that a stranger shows up here the same day that Sarah’s boy disappears.”

“Coincidence isn’t evidence.” The apprentice hummed, pulling her shawl tighter around herself  as she began to back up against the shop door, aggravated by the chilly air. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, with a search party that size he’ll be back home in no time.”

With that, you finally retrieved your “missing” keys and unlocked the door, sliding into the safety of the bakery. You knew William as well, he really was a sweet kid...to most. Your heart did go out to Sarah though, you didn’t know the pain of a missing child but you could empathize. The sight of her broken face remained burned into your mind as you readied the shop, lighting the hearth and preparing your materials to start your first batch of bread for the day. Your late start was going to nip you in the behind, most of the women arrived by noon to get their first pick of goods and the two hours it would take to make your batches was going to loom over your head the entire time. 

You were mid kneading your dough when the familiar tinkle of the bell above the shop door demanded your attention. You paused for a moment, your aching arms thanking you for the short reprieve. Almost immediately your breath was caught in your throat. You had been expecting one of the regular mothers wandering their way in, or perhaps even one of their children running errands. Not this man that stood before you. 

This was most obviously the stranger the tailor had been referring to moments earlier, there was no mistake. Your village was small, everyone knew everyone and this stranger looked nothing like any of the people in your town. 

He was so much taller than anybody else, broader too. But most astonishing was his pure silver hair and the deep honey shade of his eyes. You had never seen anyone as young as him with hair that light, it surely wasn’t grey, the shade far too bright to be mistaken with something that dull. He was damn near ethereal and unfairly attractive. His looks had almost distracted you from his attire but now that you were paying attention, he was severely underdressed for the weather. He had to be freezing cold. 

“Hello, can I help you?” You asked softly, patting your hands against your apron to remove the excess flour from your skin. 

He had a rather confident stance, like he was the owner of the shop instead of you, you who was slightly cowering and thrumming with anxiety. 

He sent you a wide grin, his teeth were pearly white and for some unknown reason that sent your heart crashing into your stomach. You could have sworn they even looked slightly pointy at the ends, not unlike those of the creature you had seen outside your window that morning. You had almost been distracted by the sweet dimples that rested in his cheeks. What duality he had. 

He tilted his head back slightly, peering down at you from above, “Hm, I’m looking for something sweet.” He hummed. 

“Sweet?” You mumbled to yourself, resting your hand on your hip in thought.

“Oh! I made some sweet rolls yesterday, how about that?” You said with a snap of your fingers, retreating further into the shop without a response from him. 

Now in work mode you busied yourself with preparing the stranger’s order. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had arrived, what his reason for being there was. Barely anybody passed through your village, and they certainly didn’t stay as long as he had. 

Once you had retrieved the tray of rolls you set them on the counter before grabbing a pot of freshly warmed icing and gently drizzling it over top. Once each roll had been thoroughly coated, you set the pot aside and headed to the cupboard to retrieve a bag for them.  

“Perfect.” You sighed in irritation, craning your neck back to see the top of the shelf. 

Normally, you had endless amounts of bags and never needed the ones stored on the top shelf. But this winter had been far more difficult than past ones and your stock had not been refilled in quite a while. 

Desperately not wanting to search for your wooden stool, you stubbornly resorted to balancing on the tips of your toes, your fingers just barely brushing against the material of the bags. You groaned in frustration, bouncing up slightly only to knock the bags back further on the shelf and worsen the ache in your shoulder. 

Just as you were about to give up and resort to looking for your rickety stool, you felt a hand settle on your waist and a chest press against your back as the stranger reached up and grabbed the bags for you. He was incredibly warm, so warm you thought he may even be sick. He felt as warm as the heat emanating from a fire of fresh coals and that was incredibly alarming, but also explained his state of dress.

You flinched in surprise as you felt him set the bags aside and settle his other hand on your shoulder. It was deathly quiet, the only sounds being his slow, steady breaths underlying your panicked ones accompanied by the calm rise and fall of his chest against your back. You had never been this close to anyone before, it was incredibly uncomfortable. 

You felt much like a rabbit, cornered, panicking, and believing that if you stayed still enough he wouldn’t see you and would go away. 

He gently rested his forehead against your hair, nuzzling from side to side before reaching up and playing with a stray strand. You could feel him taking a deeper breath this time, humming softly like he was pleased. 

“Sweet.” He mumbled to himself. 

Oh. Oh, no. Who did this man think he was? You were not on the menu. You shuddered in fear before jerking away, smacking his hands off of you. 

You turned on your heel, backing away from him as you fixed him with an annoyed glare. The look he gave you was one of clear confusion, a layer of hurt and frustration buried beneath. 

“I’m not sure how things work where you come from, but normally you ask for permission before you go touching someone you don’t know.” You huffed, slamming the empty bag on the counter as you began to package the rolls. 

It didn’t matter if he was attractive or not, you were not going to let him touch you as he pleased or get the wrong message that you weren’t even conveying in the first place. 

The stranger rounded the counter, the block of wood effectively separating the two of you, making you feel a little safer. His eyes looked darker than before, less like honey and more like amber. 

His confident demeanor had returned, effectively confusing you even more. 

“Forgive me,” He said, another smile gracing his lips as he rested his forearms on the countertop, “It seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot? My name is Namjoon, and yours?” 

So, he did have the capability to be somewhat of a gentleman. He was rather well spoken, and his strange mannerisms and quiet demeanor had all but disappeared in a flash. 

So, begrudgingly, you replied with your name. 

He repeated it after you, his tongue swiping over the full flesh of his lower lip like he was tasting it, sending a chill down your spine. 

“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, you were correct in assuming where I come from we do greetings a little differently.” He said with a soft chuckle, his amber eyes tracing every movement you made. 

You did feel a little bad now for how you had lashed out at him. Normally, you weren’t one who was quick to anger, but that still didn’t excuse what he had done. 

“It’s alright,” You said, slowly, “You need to be more careful though, if that had been anyone else I don’t think you would have gone unscathed.” 

“Are most of your people so quick to violence?” He asked, titling his head slowly, a strong sense of intrigue exuding from his form. 

“I wouldn’t say so normally, but we’re all a little on edge as of late. Our livestock has been attacked and just this morning one of us went missing.”

“Missing?” He asked, a new glow to eyes. 

“Yes, I’m afraid so. The butcher’s son hasn’t been seen all day, it’s very unlike him.” You said, your teeth sinking into your lower lip, unsure if you should tell him more. But, considering it concerned him you felt maybe it was in his best interest to tell him. 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around for too long. Some find it suspicious you turned up the same day that William went missing.” 

“And what if I don’t feel like leaving just yet?” He asked, disregarding the information you had just given him as if he had no reason to be worried. 

You had no answer for him, truly you didn’t. The packaged rolls sat between the two of you and a long stretch of silence as he stared at you and waited for a response that didn’t come. And, without another word, he dropped a few too many coins on the counter, gathered up the bag, and headed for the front door. 

He stopped for only a moment, his fingers gently stroking at your red cloak you had hung up beside the door. His amber gaze trailed over each stitch as he lightly grazed the material a few more times. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon, little red.” 

~~~~~~~

After he had left, your day had not gotten any easier. Just as you had expected, it had been another busy day. You had managed to satisfy all of your customers, despite that late start you had made. 

There were a few upsides to the job you had, one being that it allowed you to tune into any gossip you would normally miss out on. You were more of a hit with the older women of the village, the people your age finding you to be a tad strange and off putting. 

That day your shop had been filled with hushed whispers of what had come to pass, the search party still had not returned from their trip to recover William. The outlook was not in the boy’s favor, not with the increase in predator activity you had been receiving as of late. You weren’t so sure you would be seeing William walking back into town any time soon. 

Once the day had come to an end, the sun dipping just below the tree line and casting shades of red over the snow, you had extinguished the lights of your shop and were locking up, your hood drawn over your head. That was when you found out the horrible truth. 

As you slid the shop keys into your bag and turned on your heel, you saw the search party emerging from the woods. And with them, you could see a blanketed form lying in the snow, the sheet swaddling the body slowing turning red. 

You swallowed harshly, turning as quickly as you could and beginning to make your way through the snow and away from what you knew was coming. You didn’t want to see the look on Sarah’s face, you didn’t want to watch her go boneless in the arms of her husband. But it didn’t matter what you saw or didn’t see, you would never forget the sound of her screams piercing the crisp, snowy air.

Your breath was visible in hot puffs in front of your face as you felt the burn of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. It didn’t matter if you didn’t care for William, it didn’t matter if you knew what he was really like, there was nothing quite like the sound of a mother’s heartbreak. It was enough to send anybody down to their knees. 

Your numb fingers wiped away the warm tears rushing down your cheeks, and amidst your blurry vision you could have sworn you saw a familiar figure slinking off into the woods, a flash of silver hair that just barely materialized. You could have sworn that that was Namjoon disappearing like a ghost into the frigid depths of the forest. 

You shook your head, you shouldn’t bother yourself with what he was doing, your main goal should be getting home before the sun completely dips below the horizon and plunges you into darkness. So, with that thought, you rushed home. 

Once you entered the cottage, things didn’t get any better. Your mother was stood there, waiting anxiously for your arrival. As soon as you had stepped foot inside she whipped the door shut and helped you remove your cloak as you toed your boots off. 

“No more working late, do you hear me?” She said, gripping your shoulders to get you to look at her. “It’s not safe out there.”

“Word travels fast then?” You asked humorlessly. 

“It’s a shame what happened to that boy, and I’ll be damned if that happens to you.” She replied sternly. 

“And what about Grandmother then? What do we do about her? She’s out there, all alone, with no one to protect her.”

“She has the lumberjack-”

“And he only checks on her every two weeks.” You interrupted, “Let me go out tomorrow and bring her back to us. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”

Your mother bit her lip, her hands shakily settling on her hips as she thought to herself. “I’ll go with you then.”

“No, you can’t possibly think you’ll be able to make the trip. The snow is thick and it’s a long walk there, you’ll exhaust yourself. It’ll be better if I go, faster too.” You said as you approached the fireplace, raising your hands to the flames to warm them. 

“And your grandmother, you think she’ll be able to make it back through the snow?” She probed, raising her eyebrow. 

She had a point, if you were saying she wouldn’t be able to make it there how would you expect your grandmother to make it back with you? 

You rested your hand on the back of your neck, pacing the floor and causing your layers of skirts to swirl around your ankles. You came to a sudden stop, your eyes settling on the shotgun that was mounted above your front door. Idea.

You didn’t like the thought of her being out there all alone, but if you knew she had something to protect her from the wild animals that would make you feel much better. 

“Alright, what if I bring her some supplies instead? I’ll grab some things that’ll last her a good while and I’ll show her how to use the shotgun. I’ve saved up some money of my own, I could purchase us a new one.” You mused out loud.

You loved your grandmother, she was the last living member of your father’s side of the family, she was the only connection you had to him at this point. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing her just yet, not when you could prevent it from those creatures that were beginning to terrorize your people. 

Your mother was silent once more, her thumb settled between her lips as she nervously chewed at the nail. She didn’t like the idea of you headed out into the woods alone, but she was comforted by the thought of you taking the shotgun with you, that much you were certain of. 

“We don’t know when the next storm will hit, and the last thing we need is for her to be stuck out there, all alone, with no food, surrounded by the wild. Let me go.”

And that was enough to break her resilience. 

“Promise me, promise me that you’ll come back.” She whispered, her body visibly sagging as those words left her lips. 

“It goes without saying.” You murmured, wrapping her up in your embrace. 

It was easier this way, you didn’t want to make a promise you had no certainty in keeping. 

The air in the cottage had lost all tension, everything was much calmer than before. But your peace could only last for so long. It was when you entered your bedroom that you realized something else was wrong.

The room was positively frigid, and upon further inspection you realized that your window had been pried open, the cold winter air surging forth and snuffing out any traces of heat. 

You surged forward and grasped the window, attempting to swing it shut as quickly as you could to try and insulate whatever warmth was left. But the thick scent of copper quickly stalled your movements. Instead of closing the window, you found yourself leaning forward into the brisk air, sniffing intently as you tried to make out where the scent was emanating from. You didn’t have to look far.

Your hands sealed themselves over your mouth, smothering the scream that threatened to break through them. 

Sitting in the snow where the wolf had once laid, was a human heart. The snow seemed to sizzle around it, the organ still warm and slick with blood that carved rivers and valleys into the pure ice. 

You could feel bile rising up your throat, your vision shaking so violently it made it appear that the heart was vibrating with steady pumps like it was still alive. 

And, to your horror, you could make out a form a few feet back in the snow. The only thing that was visible in the pitch black were it’s molten gold eyes, shining back at you in recognition before it scuttled away into the darkness.

You frantically slammed the window shut and drew the curtains closed tight. 

There was no mistake now, someone or something had been following you. 

~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning from a restless sleep, you elected to keep your discovery to yourself.

Although you were incredibly frightened by what you had seen, the last thing you needed was to scare your already frail mother. Your grandmother was still in need of assistance, and you couldn’t allow your mother to halt your plans. You had a mission to accomplish, and you were set on completing it with a shotgun slung over your arm and a picnic basket on the other. 

So, you shakily grasped your red cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders in haste, your fingers struggling to do up the ties at the base of your throat. Once you had completed the normally easy task, you slipped your basket onto the inside of your elbow and pulled down the shotgun from its resting place above the door. 

You regularly cleaned it, a task your father had enjoyed teaching you at a young age, so you were certain it wouldn’t jam if you needed to use it in a hurry. You slid a box of ammunition into your pocket, one for you, and another box into the picnic basket, one for your grandmother. 

And then you were off, bidding your mother goodbye with a hug and a swift kiss to her cheek, and an unspoken promise tittering on the edges of your lips saying that you would be home for supper. But those words were better left unspoken. 

The sun was just barely peeking through the thick clouds overhead, you were certain a blizzard was brewing. This only urged you to move quicker through the cleared paths. 

But the clouds weren’t the only foreboding message that morning, it was the mother’s wailing in the town square. There were three more now, holding each other in a comforting manner as they wept into each other’s shoulders. 

More children had been snatched from their mothers.

Sarah sat by herself, of her own volition, an obsidian mourning veil obscuring her tear stained features. A chill ran down your back as you urged yourself to walk by them quicker, she looked more like an executioner than she did a mourner, surrounded by a choir of weeping women. 

You could still hear the echoes of her cries in the back of your mind, the raw chords striking your ears once more. 

You tightened your grip on the strap of your shotgun, your pace slowing as you reached the bridge that led you into the forest. You felt like you could breathe now, despite the knowledge that people your own age had lost their lives in the thick overgrowth before you. The relief that you felt from the women in the square outweighed your fear.

The bridge creaked in protest as your boots tapped against the wood. It would need to be repaired come spring. 

“Little red!” A voice called from the treeline causing you to suddenly stop, snow kicking up beneath your boots. 

Moments later, a familiar figure emerged from the frost coated trees, tall, ash hair, and honey eyes. Namjoon. 

“Where are you off to, little red?” He cooed, his voice low with a sultry edge that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t tell if they were delighted or terrified chills. 

“My grandmother’s, what are you doing here?” You asked, your body tense and defensive. 

He drew nearer now, a wide grin gracing his lips with a set of teeth so white they resembled the snow beneath your boots. The closer he got the more you noticed about him. His perfect white teeth seemed a little sharper than most, and the clothes he wore were once more, not suited for the frigid weather. 

“I caught sight of this old thing,” He hummed, his finger tracing over your cloak and the strap of your shotgun as he slowly circled you, “And couldn’t help but see you.”

You stepped back hesitantly, his presence was unnerving. Without saying anything more you pulled away from his reach and began to walk by him briskly, headed into the woods. 

“Leaving so soon? We only just met.” He laughed, it would have been a nice contagious laughter had you not heard the bitter edge to it. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have the time to dawdle, Namjoon. I need to reach her before the storm hits.”

“Well then, won’t you let me accompany you?”

“I don’t need an escort, I know my way just fine, thank you very much.” 

“And what about the beasts then?” He asked from beside you, sending you halting to a stop. 

“Beasts?” You asked slowly, gazing up at him from beneath the cover of your hood. 

“Well, surely you know?” He asked in a patronizing tone, his honey eyes narrowing. “Four people from your village have gone missing, red. Surely you know that wasn’t an accident. Great beasts have roamed this forest for centuries and they don’t take kindly to intruders. It would be much safer if I came with you.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, contemplating his words. He was not wrong, two people were much safer than just one. 

So, begrudgingly, you accepted his offer. 

His hand quickly captured your own, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pressed his side tightly to your own with a grin. How bold. You were struck once more by the fact that he was incredibly warm, it was no wonder why he wasn’t bundled up like you were. It felt like he had struck a fever. 

Namjoon filled the silence between the two of you surprisingly well, telling you stories of the great beasts that roamed the woods, effectively scaring you and holding your attention. He had a way of speaking that drew people in, like a siren from the stories your father had read to you. 

It was easy to forget with him, easy to forget why you had been frightened in the first place, easy to sink into his side as his warmth seeped into your flesh, and easy to get lost in his voice. 

That was of course, until you felt him pulling you off of the path. 

You dug your heels into the snow, tugging at his hand violently. “Namjoon!”

“Yes?” He asked.

“What are you doing? Her cottage is this way, we stay on the path, we never leave the path.” You said, gesturing towards the dirt pathway beneath the two of you. 

That was a spoken rule in your village, never go off of the path. 

“That’s ridiculous,” He chuckled, “If we continue the way you were going, that doubles the time it takes to get there, it’s better we take the shortcut.”

“No.” You sternly said. 

“And why not?”

“Because, there’s predators out there! Mountain lions, bears, wolves!”

A mischievous smirk pulled at the corners of his lips, “Are you scared of wolves, little red?”

“I’m scared of anything that wants to eat me.” You replied with a dry tone. 

“Well you do smell very sweet-”

“Namjoon!”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting between you and the shortcut. “I promise you, nothing will hurt you while I’m here. Besides, did you know some flowers bloom in the winter?”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“I am, there’s a field of flowers this way, all different breeds that bloom in the dead of winter. Don’t you think your grandmother would enjoy those?” 

You chewed at your lip uneasily. He knew exactly what to say to make you question your own actions. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see what he was talking about, and you knew that yes, your grandmother would be elated by something so cheery in the bleak winter months. 

So, after a few moments of consideration, you agreed.

And Namjoon had not been lying. After a few minutes of trekking through the deep snow the two of you emerged into a clearing, and just like he said, it was filled with flowers of all different breeds. 

You found yourself crouching down into the field, your fingers trailing over each velvety petal that had somehow found a way to survive in the clutches of an icy death. Your favorites were the deep red roses. They were a dead match for your cloak, a beautiful color that was delicately dusted with soft flakes of snow. 

You couldn’t help but greedily pluck several blossoms from the foliage, slipping them into your basket. 

And, amidst your excitement, you hadn’t noticed just how close your companion had gotten until you felt him. That incredible warmth had returned as he crouched down behind you, and just like he had in the bakery, you felt him lightly nuzzling your head and breathing in your scent as he pressed himself closer to you, his arms winding around your body in an attempt to pull you even tighter to him. 

You froze, your finger mid pull on the rose’s stem causing you to slice the appendage on a stray thorn. You hissed in pain as you watched the blood drip from the tip of your finger before rolling down your wrist and carving a pool into the snow beneath you. 

And, without a thought, Namjoon’s hand encircled your wrist and yanked it up to his face. 

His once honey eyes appeared brighter than before, his long lashes fluttering as his warm breath misted over your skin. And before you could stop him, he licked a line up your wrist, collecting the blood, and pressed your finger to his lips swiping his tongue over the wound. 

You yelped in surprise, wrenching your hand free from his grip as your heart pounded violently. You rose to your feet and stumbled backwards through the snow. 

Namjoon remained where he was crouched, a sudden hunger evident in his honey gaze, a gaze that was not so unfamiliar. 

“We-we need to go!” You stuttered, turning on your heel and retreating from whatever had just happened. 

You held your hand close to your chest as you walked, frightened by what had just transpired. A part of you suddenly wished you had made your journey alone as you had previously intended.

But the harsh crunch of snow behind you reminded you of the choice you made, and the molten glare digging into your back exemplified it. 

~~~~~~~

The rest of your journey was made in complete silence, a new tension had settled between the two of you. And, true to Namjoon’s word, the way he had taken you was indeed a shortcut. So, you felt no remorse as you sprinted toward the cottage ahead of you and threw a weak thank you over your shoulder. 

You couldn’t stand the awkward tension anymore, you couldn’t stand being in his presence any longer than you needed to. 

As soon as you approached the front door, you threw it open and let it shut behind you. You leaned against the door for a moment to catch your breath before you shrugged the shotgun off of your shoulder and strung it up on the hook beside the front door. 

“Grandmother!” You called as you began to approach the kitchen door, “I’m here!”

And upon opening it, a blood curdling scream broke free from your lips. 

The sight before you could only be described as a massacre. Your hands desperately tried to cover your eyes, but the damage had already been done. There was blood, so much blood amongst other things laid out atop the counter. 

You fell backwards, your body sliding down the wall as hoarse screams raked through your throat. The unmistakable scent of blood was thick in the kitchen sending your stomach churning in your gut. You knew that scent, it was clear as day whatever had remained in that room had once been human. 

“Sweetheart?” A familiar voice called out to you. 

And upon opening your eyes, you saw your grandmother standing before you. The sudden feeling of elation surging through your body at the sight of her alive quickly died out. She wore a leather apron stained with blood, both fresh and old, and her hands were gloved. You quickly stood and began to back away from her, your sense of self preservation suddenly kicking in, your eyes zeroing in on the meat cleaver she held in her left hand. 

“Sweetheart, calm down.” She whispered softly, carefully setting the blade down on the counter beside the gorey mess. 

Your eyes were darting everywhere but her, panicked breaths leaving your parted lips. Your gaze finally settled in the corner of the room where a pile of clothing sat and a familiar axe. The lumberjack, she had murdered the lumberjack. 

“Why?” You cried, trembling as if you had been drenched to the bone. “Why did you do it?!” 

“I had too sweetie, I have to feed them.”

“Them? Who?” You asked, backing out of the kitchen as she followed your trail, her face soft with sympathy despite the flecks of blood that decorated her cheeks. 

“The wolves, of course. I made a deal with them long ago, if I fed them in the winter I could stay here.” She replied, her voice alarmingly calm. “The lumberjack was a sweet man but this winter was a rough one, not many travelers I’m afraid.”

“You’ve gone mad.” You whispered. 

“I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s best if you listen to me darling. Your grandfather was one of them, he courted me and then we had your father and your uncles. It’s always tricky with litters, you never know who is going to take after who. Your father though, he was the most human out of all of them. Poor thing couldn’t even shift.” She sighed, her eyes glazing over.

“You need help, you’re not well.” You tried again, doing your best to keep distance between the two of you.

“I know you’re a bit shaken up, but you need to listen to me, it’s in your best interest.” She sighed, untying the leather apron from around her waist. 

“That cloak you’re wearing, it’s a symbol that you’ve come of age and Namjoon has had every intention of courting you. He’s been rather obvious really, he’s becoming quite frustrated with you.” 

You suddenly became still, your mind flashing through every time Namjoon had ever touched the very item you were wearing. What she was saying, although deluded, had some semblance of truth. 

“I-I have to go.” You mumbled, your throat tightening from the copper scent and smell of flesh that hung heavily in the air. You needed to get home and far away from her before she killed you too. 

A deep sadness spread over her features as her head hung low, shaking from side to side. “Don’t run,” She breathed, “They find the chase seductive.”

All this time you had been slowly backing away from the person you loved the most, and now you had been stopped by the feeling of a solid form behind you. You quickly spun around, a shriek of horror escaping you as you met the bright, gold eyes of your escort, Namjoon. 

And, without thinking, you ran. 

Your cloak was fluttering behind you rapidly in the harsh, cold winds, the snow coming down thicker than it ever had before. And, to your absolute horror, a loud howl was echoing throughout the trees. 

You peered over your shoulder as you sprinted to the best of your ability through the snow drifts. The wolf that had sat outside your window days before had returned and was chasing you down. Now that there was nothing separating you from the creature you were terrified, it was massive and hunting you down. It had the clear advantage, you were inevitably going to die. You were never going home again, another child was going to be ripped from their mother. 

Tears were pouring down your cheeks like waterfalls as you blindly ran, unsure as to where you were going. You knew that you didn’t have time, four legs were faster than two and you were greatly impaired by the weather. 

With no goal in mind, no destination in sight, you ran in hopes you would be able to live for a little longer. You did your best to weave between the trees, slide down hills of snow, and keep running for your life. Your lungs burned and your legs ached but still you ran, even as you heard the loud steps of the wolf coming nearer and nearer.

And, just as you had lost all hope, an outcropping of rocks became visible at the base of a snowy hill. And with every intention to save your life, you recklessly threw yourself down the hill allowing gravity to take over for you. 

The second you felt yourself cease rolling, you rose to your unsteady legs and dizzily stumbled into the cluster of rocks, pulling yourself into the shelter away from the blizzard.

But your hope was fleeting as you came to a realization. The shelter was a den, one that had clearly been in use. It was littered with furs, blankets, books, and materials for a fire. The creature had been corralling you to this very location. 

You turned as another burst of adrenaline shot through your body only to be stunted by the sight of the silver wolf blocking the exit to the den. 

It’s bright eyes stared back at you with a gleam of satisfaction as it crouched down, shimming it’s way into the den and backing you up further into its depths. 

You watched, horrified, as the wolf began to whimper, it’s body shaking violently as the sound of bones beginning to snap and crunch echoed throughout the space, reforming and distorting themselves into vaguely familiar shapes as it’s fur began to melt away. 

Those bright golden eyes faded to a recognizable honey shade, and the silver fur disappeared and showed itself as ashen hair. On the floor of the den sat Namjoon in the place of where the powerful wolf had once stood. 

He carefully rolled his head from side to side, his neck cracking loudly in response as he rose to his feet. A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips, a triumphant gleam to his eyes as he confidently approached your trembling form. 

A broken cry escaped from your throat as you felt him press his forehead to your own, lightly nuzzling his head against yours. His strange behavior now made sense, he had been courting you in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but natural to him. 

All of the people that had gone missing were male’s your age, he had been wiping out the competition. 

And the bloody organ he had left outside of your window, had been a horrific present. A show of his dominance and his twisted affection. 

You were crying uncontrollably now, everything you had experienced suddenly crashing down on you. You flinched in terror as you felt his fingers grip your jaw, his lips just brushing against your own and he hummed happily.

“You have nowhere left to run, little red.” 

#bts #bts namjoon #bts x reader #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere namjoon #bts fanfic #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader #werewolf namjoon #werewolf namjoon x reader #yandere werewolf #werewolf bts #werewolf bts x reader #hyrbid namjoon #hybrid bts #bts rm #yandere rm #yandere rm x reader

[lovelybarnes]

stood up- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, anderson x reader (?) warnings: angst, getting stood up, language, unrequited feelings about: prompts (DA29) “i got stood up.” + (DF30) “i think you’re my soulmate.” +(DF41) “are you going to cry? please don’t cry. a/n: i love to hurt but dw it’s a happy ending, i actually like this fjsk, a the time i finished this, i just posted another imagine, so i can’t wait for you guys to read this one in a couple days

every passing second makes you hyperaware of all the sympathetic stares that are currently directed at you. the feeling of pity is enveloping you whole, wrapping you in a thin layer of shame that you think must be related to the careful makeup you caked on your face for this date. your recently manicured nails scratch at the tablecloth, trying to avoid your new expensive dress, deep midnight color clinging to your nervous self. teeth stress your dark wine bottom lip, anxious eyes darting across the restaurant.

with each face that enters the place, none of them being his, the presumption that he isn’t coming solidifies. with it, comes the embarrassment. you can feel the warnings of tears, already threatening to ruin the mascara you had applied so carefully, not bothering to choose the waterproof one because why would you be crying on your date?

you suppose it’s your own fault- how dare you attempt to get over bucky? how dare you trust the words of a shield agent? you pick at your nails, gathering up the courage to stand up and leave. your waitress, however, beats you to it, a faux apologetic look on her face. “oh, so you’ve been here for, like, half an hour and it seems no one is coming, and we kind of need the table, so…”

you hold back an uncomfortable cringe, nodding stiffly as you stand. “right. i’m sorry. i don’t need to… pay for the water, right?” you ask dumbly, ducking your head when she shakes her head condescendingly.

pushing the door open, you step into the brisk air of the night, clouded over with an uneasy disappointment that you’re sure is because of you. you stand for a second to look at the stars, realizing how pretty of a night this would be if you weren’t so damn frustrated. the upset hasn’t passed yet, although the beginnings of anger are peeking up in your stomach.

while you stare up at the moon, the universe decides your getting stood up wasn’t enough, choosing to gift you with cold droplets of water that make your mascara run. it’s unbelievable, you nearly scoff tearily.

you walk to your car then, the moonlight that should have been romantic when you walked out of the restaurant now only making you feel lonely. you don’t let the tears come yet, having enough pride to not let the smitten couples appreciating the romance of the rain see you cry, deciding to put that off until you’re in the quietness of your room.

you drive in the sound of the pattering rain, concentrated on keeping your breathing even so as to push back the tears, not wanting to have an accident on the way back home because your vision was clouded over with sadness.

-

the relief you feel when you arrive at the compound is immeasurable; the knowledge that all you have to do is walk quietly to your room, and you can release the pent up emotions that eat you whole is unbelievably satisfying. the horrible itching feeling that comes with the tears arrives again when you notice your reflection in the impressively clean windows of the stark compound. through the stains of your ruined makeup, you can see the remnants of how dolled up you were, how much time was spent with the intricate details that made you smile when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

you swallow back the painful lump in your throat, opening the doors and sniffling at the dimly-lit room. your heels click tiredly on the floor, precious bracelet lightly jangling when you move. you can’t find it in yourself to care when you realize you’re dragging water inside, resigning to letting stark lecture you in the morning.

as you stand in the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor, the emotions you’ve pushed so far down decide to spring back up in the form of an overwhelming dejected exhaustion that makes you physically slump. you lean against the cool of the metal railing, shutting your eyes hard to avoid looking at yourself. you only pry your eyes open when you hear the soft ding of the elevator, surprised and once again embarrassed to see bucky standing between the open doors.

“y/n?” he asks quietly. his demeanor immediately changes when he takes you in, body softer in the way it always is when you’re with him. his reaction makes you fall deeper, which reminds you exactly why you were going on your failed date. you straighten, clearing your throat, “um- i have to get to my room.”

your voice is thin, heightening his worries and stopping you with a gentle hand to your arm before you step off the elevator, “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay?” he asks, and you nod blindly at all of his questions, realizing that the longer you stay with him- with his warm hand that you can’t help but lean into pressed against your cold arm- the more you really want to cry and scream because it’s not fair that he’s been given to you, yet you can’t have him, even if he has you.

“i’m fine,” you lie obviously, forcing your eyes again from his. “y/n, what happened? you’re clearly not fine,” bucky pushes, the hand on your arm beginning to rub stressed circles into your skin. you give up then, looking back at him. “i got stood up,” you say finally, words cracked. you shake your head, “and i just spent so much time on everything and-”

“that’s stupid. who would stand you up?” bucky interrupts, eyes genuinely confused while you scoff. “apparently anderson from security,” you respond bitterly, looking away. “he’s stupid, y/n. he has to be to not go to a date with you.”

you exhale frustratedly, “maybe not. maybe there’s something wrong with me and i’m the stupid one for even thinking someone would want to go out with me,” you countered. “hey, no, you are- you are amazing, y/n. amazing and stunning and intelligent and he missed his chance to be the luckiest guy in the world,” he insisted, gently pulling your attention back to him with a gentle hand on your cheek. you give him a watery laugh through the loud, unfair questions in your head: why don’t you love me like i love you, then?

you don’t realize the tears that run down the streaks of already ruined mascara until bucky points them out, wiping them away with his fingers, “no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he begs. you can’t help it, though, biting your lip to hold back your unrequited confessions of love.

“nobody wants me. i don’t even think i want me anymore,” you weep, oblivious to the breaking of bucky’s heart when he hears your words, pulling you flush against his chest. “don’t say that, doll. that’s not true-”

“it is. what other reasons can you think of that explain why i’m the only one that’s shown up to the rare dates i’ve been on? why have i had to go on those stupid dates just to forget how pathetic i am that i can’t get over you?”

you’re too deep in the ocean of your thoughts to realize what you’ve said, too little light available in the dark to let you realize the hints you have and will undoubtedly let out if you continue blubbering into bucky’s shoulder like the mess you are. your feelings are scattered, words so disorganized that any way you piece them together will be a mistake. “why else does the one person who i actually want to love me back not want me?”

bucky can make sense of the words you’re saying, the heavy weight they carry when he realizes exactly what they mean, and what you imply. he’s frozen, heart simultaneously fluttering at the mere thought of his feelings being returned and breaking at the cries you’re letting out because of him.

he’s refused to ever be the source of your pain, restricting his own poems of confessions because he didn’t want to hurt you, never wanting to be the reason you cried. he supposes now it was the wrong choice, one he needs to fix.

the bead of insecurity buried stubbornly in his mind shrieks, however, because he’s as clueless as you are and can’t possibly imagine someone like you- so kind and pure and good- loving him back. so he needs to make sure, needs to hear you say it in your voice.

“what?” you let out a watery scoff, full of embarrassment rather than annoyance at him, “don’t make me say it, bucky, please-”

“please say it- i- i need you to say it.”

a beat of silence passes before you sniffle, pulling away from the man you’ve called your best friend and wanted nothing but to be able to call him more. “i love you, bucky. in a way that makes me pretty sure you’re my soulmate because i don’t even believe in that but you make me feel like i should.”

bucky’s storm clouds lighten, doubts dissolving when he listens to what you said, tasting your words and examining each one just to remember it. he pulls your lips to his when they’ve barely processed. “you should,” he says when he pulls away for a second, only to make you lose your breath again when he aches for you immediately, kissing you again, “believe in soulmates.”

“why is that?” you ask breathlessly, letting him pull you back in because you both have been waiting- dreaming about this for so damn long, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to keep away from you now that he has you. he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, so perfectly imperfect when your teeth clash and you both laugh gently, noses nudging each other when he leans his forehead on yours, “because we’re meant to be, y/n. in that way that soulmates are.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #angst bucky barnes #fluff bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #fluff bucky barnes #angsty bucky barnes x reader #fluffy bucky barnes #angsty bucky barnes #fluffy bucky barnes imagine #fluffy bucky barnes x y/n #fluffy bucky x reader #angsty bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff fanfic #bucky barnes angst fanfic #bucky barnes fluffy fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic angst #bucky barnes fanfic fluff #bucky barnes fluffy fanfic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine

[thunderheadfred]

💥Bakugou HC's💥

Aged-up pro hero Katsuki for all of these. Some NSFW beneath the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

He’s scary good at everything he tries. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing. It’s infuriating. Has zero patience when other people can’t immediately master a skill. Never let him teach you anything. Not that he’d offer, nerd.

He WILL offer, though. A lot. He can’t believe you still can’t Do That Thing. Tsh. Like THIS. You're gonna hurt yourself, Dummy.

But hold on. Of course you have unique skills of your own. You work hard to improve yourself. Trust me, he's the first person to notice. He doesn't praise anyone lightly, so when he raises his eyebrows and whispers he's impressed, your heart will go thermonuclear.

Perfect spelling and fully punctuated texts. Never uses abbreviations. Employs a grand total of four emojis, all of them angry faces. Constantly leaves you on read. He's busy, dammit.

Doesn’t smile or laugh in public (except sarcastically). His real smile is a crooked, fragile thing. Never make him feel self-conscious about it, or you might not see it again for weeks.

He does not talk about his private life to the press. Ever. Will K.O. rookie reporters who can't keep their big mouths shut.

HOweVER: he's intensely kind to his fans. There is a whole photographic sub-genre of little girls in cosplay hugging Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight like he's a Disney Princess.

Too smart for his own good. Emotionally hyper-vigilant. Overthinks every interaction to hell and back. Will act like he's not listening but actually hears every single word in a ten-block radius.

INSECURE AF. 110% convinced he will never be good enough. Terrified of his loved ones leaving him behind. Does he do anything to assuage his fears? Like... talk to anyone about it? Hell no. That would require admitting he has fears to begin with.

Seeing people upset makes him upset, especially if he doesn't know how to fix it.

The epitome of being mean because he cares. He genuinely does not seem to comprehend that monosyllabic grunts and lopsided shrugs are not actually that comforting.

Because he was such a brat growing up, he wants to make up for it now. Sort of. In his own way. Look, he's trying, okay?

He smells - so - good. Obscenely good. He doesn't wear cologne; are you joking? There's the burnt-sugar caramel candy smell of his quirk, for starters. And since he sweats deadly ammunition, he showers and wipes himself down almost constantly. He always smells clean. Like a fucking meadow.

Never got that growth spurt he was hoping for. He’s a short man - not even THAT short - but he has a Napoleon complex anyway. If you’re taller than him, the collars of your shirts will all be stretched out. He’s constantly dragging you down to his level. He will assert himself all the fucking time; the pissing contest is never-ending. Don’t wear tall shoes unless you want him to drag you around on a leash. If you’re shorter than him, that’s good. That’s very good. He likes that.

He’s an incredible cook, but everything he makes is a nuclear fire challenge. Adapt or starve.

- - - - -

Dating

Makes artisanal, nutritionally flawless bento lunches for both of you. When people assume his S.O. makes them, he gets fucking pissed. Damn right your co-workers are jealous of my cooking.

Your pet name is Dummy. Don’t like it? Fine. You can be dumbass.

There will be zero PDA in this relationship. His hands are shoved so deep in his pockets you can’t even try.

Intensely private with the press. But with his friends, he will brag about you nonstop. Bakugou Katsuki has the most talented and attractive and intelligent S.O., and anyone who doesn't recognize that is blind. Were you assholes even listening?

A mutual buddy definitely recorded one of these drunken brag-rants and sent it to you for safekeeping. Do not let Katsuki find out about it, unless you enjoy having an ash pile for a phone.

Gets jealous about everything, at least at the start. He calms down eventually. Kinda. He stops saying shit to you about it, anyway, because he learns to trust you. But anyone who so much as looks at you in a too-friendly manner will get the death stare of a lifetime.

He’ll throw all kinds of temper tantrums and the two of you will argue about every tiny fucking thing. He’ll scream out car windows, he’ll ball up his shirt and gnash on it. But he will never raise his voice at you. He’d rather die than make you feel unsafe.

Honestly, the constant bickering is really just... uhh... passionate communication. Eventually you both hash out the important things. You'll learn how to step around his landmines and actually make your points, and he'll learn to open up. A little.

Once you meet his mom, Katsuki starts to make a lot more sense. His family just... emotes like that. Eventually, you and his dad form a spousal support group consisting of exactly two lifetime members. He teaches you the Bakugou family semaphore you need to survive a long-term relationship.

Katsuki can dish it out but absolutely cannot take it. The only person who can level with him about serious issues without explosive fallout is his dad. Or, on a lucky day, Kirishima.

If you give him a legitimate criticism (even gently!) he will take it about as gracefully as a knife to the gut, because it confirms everything he hates about himself.

To your never-ending shock, you’ve made him cry. Yes, CRY! You monster! More than once! His lip gets all *trembly* and his eyes get all *watery* and all you want to do is hug him, but. No. He’ll storm out and wander around for a few hours before coming back with the problem perfectly solved.

He always takes your advice to heart. No, he will NOT talk about it, stop asking.

Gets mad if you don’t snuggle him on the regular. Will drag you into his lap with a pissy little grunt. There might be two seats on this couch but you will not be needing both of them.

Takes pictures of you while you sleep.

Takes even more pictures of you when you're awake but think he's out of the room.

He looks at all these pictures when he's away on high-stakes jobs. He gets all bleary eyed and sleeps in a salty puddle without you. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.

You don’t have to meet him at the door or anything, but when he says “I’m home,” you’d better answer fast. If he doesn’t know your precise location in 0.05 seconds, he will assume you’ve been kidnapped. He never checks the fridge for notes. Never assumes you've gone down to the konbini for a snack. No, it’s kidnapping every time.

A terrrrrrible bed partner. He goes to bed at senior citizen hours and will never fuck you after sundown. He snores SO loud. Runs hot and sweats through the sheets. Slaps and elbows you in his sleep and aggressively spoons you with his loud, sweaty body. You WILL want to suffocate him. Separate bedrooms aren’t such a horrible idea......

BUT HANG ON, because in the morning he transforms into an honest-to-god angel. He's half awake, his guard is non-existent. Morning Katsuki is a doting kissy-faced marshmallow man.

If you can wake up before the ass-crack of dawn, he will pamper the fuck out of you. You are royalty for one (1) hour only, and he is your bleary-eyed slave. You want a cuddlefuck? You got it. Hugs? Kisses? Take as many as you need. You want a perfect, fluffy, NON-SPICY omelette with a heart drawn in ketchup? Here it is, gorgeous.

Then he gets in the shower and the spell is broken.

- - - - -

💥bang BANG💥

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: this here is an ASS. MAN. He'll spank you with his quirk; doesn’t matter if you’ve been good or bad. Wants to see you wince when you sit down later.

Likes pounding you face down with a vice grip on your waist.

Unfortunately, even with all that said... he doesn't exactly have the feral beast sex drive you were expecting. He’s married to his work and has the fuddy-duddy habits of a once and future valedictorian. Only fucks you when he has the time and energy to fully dedicate himself to it.

But ohhhh. Shit. When it's time? It's TIME. The man will rush for nothing. Stamina for days. Making you cum as many times as possible is a point of pride. Yeah, you passed out once.

You’re gonna need those days off when he’s done with you.

That dick THICC.

Sends unsolicited dick pics. Only after you’ve been dating a good long while - he doesn't show that shit to just anyone. But yeah, don’t check your phone at work. He won't cum without you; those pictures and videos are time bombs. You better get home. Now.

Physically dominant as FUCK, but won’t verbally degrade you unless you ask. Well, let’s be honest. Unless you beg.

Praise him and reap the rewards. A long hard ego stroking will get him off more than touching his cock ever will.

Will grab your hair and fuck your throat. Will also stop immediately if you need him to.

The two of you have safe words and gestures. Even for vanilla stuff. He’s paranoid about scaring or hurting you. He insisted you both sign a color-coded ‘love contract’ that he meticulously formatted in a word processor. When you gave him guff about it, his blush was the darkest crimson you’d ever seen.

Coin-flip: he will sometimes be unbelievably gentle in bed. Doting and affectionate, taking perfect care of you. Like, it’s baffling. There’s no warning, the switch just flips. When you want him to be extra-rough and mean, he’ll sweetly worship you instead. For hours.

Bonus: he likes being penetrated. But of course he’s got a complex about that too. Super intense power bottom. You will never fuck him hard enough. He’d like to see you try. Hit his prostate just right and he might literally explode.

You'll live happily ever after but he will say he loves you out loud exactly once. Maybe. If you're lucky. And you're both about to die.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #gender neutral #mha #bnha #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #fred writes

[aliensunflower-fics]

Marinette The Perfect Daughter In Law: A Prompt

[ I've seen a few ‘everyone loves Marinette AU’s’ and a couple Marvel DC ‘all the mentors want THEIR kid to end up with Marinette AU’s’ and well frankly! I felt inspired! So I present to you my new prompt / AU thing! In which all the most powerful / rich / popular people in Paris decide to play matchmaker… ]

It starts when Adrien and Kagami have a less than AMICABLE break up according to their parents and the media anyway in reality it was a really REALLY dull break up. The pair have been ‘dating’ (using each other as an excuse to go out and experience normal teenage stuff) since they were 15. Now at 17 soon to be 18 the pair decided to publicly break up in order to pursue other people and interests. The problem is they never told their parents the truth so both Gabriel and Kagami’s mother Tomeo feel protective and concerned about what must surely be an upsetting first heartbreak for their child. And okay maybe both parents take that out on each other and both get a bit defensive and protective. And MAYBE it ends with Tomeo vowing to get revenge for her daughter. Enter, Marinette. Up and coming fashion designer for the rich and famous! She’s single, talented, and as far as Tomeo knows Gabriel is interested in the girl for her talent. So what better revenge could exist but having Marinette take an interest in Kagami!

Kagami has no idea why her mother suddenly has an interest in Marinette but she wont complain about having more time with her very cute designer friend. And all the outfits Tomeo is paying Marinette to make for Kagami is giving the young fencer plenty of up-close and personal moments with Marinette. And okay Marinette is VERY cute and Kagami wont question why she suddenly has all this tine with Marinette, eating ice cream with the girl and having brunch. But she knows shes absolutely head over heels when Marinette shows up at her fencing tournament gives her a luck charm and cheers her on wearing HER colors. Obviously Kagami wiped the floor with all the competition she cant be seen hesitating in front of Marinette!

On Tomeo’s side of things she makes sure that the paparazzi still lurking around after Kagami and Adrien’s breakup catch photos of what could easily be interpreted as dates between the girls. After all this is a revenge ploy but also Marinette is fantastic so Tomeo is 300% down with Kagami ‘bringing her into the family’ something she tells Kagami after the first paparazzi ‘date photos’ leak into the news. Kagami still has no idea this was an orchestrated affair and just thinks her mothers caught on to her feelings and is overjoyed that Marinette is approved of because after the cheek kiss Marinette gave her for winning the fencing tournament Kagami was preparing to fight her mother for the right to pursue the young designer seriously. After all she never hesitates! 

But Tomeo never realized Gabriel isnt the only one interested in Marinette. Audrey Bourgeouis has been keeping an eye on Marinette trying to find a way to get Marinette on to her side and away from Gabriel. So when she sees the photos of Kagami and Marinette she sees an opportunity. After all if Marinette isnt exclusively into men (and those photos of her flushed cheeks as Kagami cleans ice cream off her bottom lip are a clear indication shes not) then Audrey smells opportunity. After all Marinette was Chloe’s first crush! How cute would that be! The next day Marinette is being offered yet another opportunity to intern under Audrey this time with much looser restrictions. When Marinette accepts she suddenly finds herself working with Chloe… A LOT. The pair are modeling together, often paired together for shoots in perfect complementary clothes that screams ‘opposites attract’. Chloe is also helping manage Marinette’s brand and the two start to get along very well. The model photos and their business lunches are soon plastered alongside the Kagami and Marinette outings with parisian gossip blogs finding their interest picked by this potential love triangle.

Chloe for one, was confused at first. Sure she knew her mom was interested in Marinette but she never thought SHE would be working so closely with her first crush. And Chloe tries to ignore it, after all those are dead feelings! And Marinette woud never forgive her anyway so why even- Wait. Is that Marinette in a downright gorgeous golden dress? A-and she will be posing right next to Chloe for their shared shoot? Well… Chloe always thought herself deserving of royalty and damn if Marinette aint the princess of her dreams. Sorry Adriken’s you had your chance to get the girl, but now its winner keeps all and Marinette is the only prize shes interested in. For the record Alya is freaked out by Chloe being nice, but shes more weirded out by Chloe being protective and handsy and downright shamelessly flirty with Marinette. Audrey is pleased when she hears the news and is quick to give her daughter encouragement acting as if none of this was premeditated at ALL.

Oh but they have no idea that this is just the beginning. Because guess who's moved back into town. Adrien’s favorite cousin and aunty. And Felix’s mom is quite the busybody and dammit Felix needs friends! And maybe a cute girlfriend! And oh whos that pretty girl on the magazine cover? Marinette? The one her celebrity connections have nothing but praise for? Perfect! Shes invited to lunch with Felix and herself on friday to discuss movie costumes! And oh Audrey dear dont you think Marinette would look fabulous sandwiched between TWO blondes! Felix hasnt modeled in a while but come now. So suddenly Marinette is being spotted with Felix guiding him about paris and modeling with him AND Chloe under AUDREY’s brand NOT Gabriels.

Felix thought hed really hate Marinette; he tried to ignore her he really did. But shes funny, witty and sweet. Not to mention trustworthy, so a good candidate for a business partner. And thats it, but then he has to admit hes impressed when he rolls up to a photoshoot and Chloe! The definition of brat personified is acting… Bearable. Yes, somehow Marinette has done the impossible! She has tamed the beast known as Chloe. And yes fine he will admit shes drop dead gorgeous and how intelligent of her to learn all sides of the fashion industry and boost her rep with modelling! Soon hes spending more time with her, he tries to argue he needs a guide, that shes the most bearable person to be with! That she is just a friend- Oh god. No it cant be! He sounds like-! Like ADRIEN! And Chloe already told him about THAT mess! No! Absolutely not! He will not lead on Marinette like his idiot cousin! Marinette is a rare and beautiful woman! She could be his queen! And god he has to admit it much as he loathes too Marinette’s smile is enough to make him thank every non-existent god. He will win her heart, show her that she deserves better than his brain dead cousin! Felix is sure mother will approve of his decision to pursue the girl, now he just needs to do more shoots with Marinette...

And that's what finally gets Gabriel to snap. Because REALLY Felix!? Is there no loyalty to FAMILY. Not to mention he was totally drafting a potential contract for Marinette when Audrey snapped her up the witch! But its fine! Marinette has always been interested in Adrien! Surely she still is? Surely she's not been swayed by any of her new suitors! Right? Gabriel knows he can't mess with Audrey’s contract so he goes through Adrien, freeing up his sons schedule and telling him to spend time with Marinette to help her ‘adapt’ to the harsh world of fashion and modeling. He uses Adrien’s heroic nature to make it sound like hed be saving her from Chloe and Felix. And sure enough Adrien bites, using his friendship with Chloe to worm into fittings, meetings, and photo shoots. At first hes just there to make sure Chloe and Felix arent hurting sweet Marinette. But when he sees the blondes fighting for her attention, flirting with her, posing with her in some rather romantic settings. Suddenly hes less worried and more… Jealous? No! Not him! Hes concerned, confused, suspicious! Obviously he needs to spend more time with Mari- Wait! When did Kagami get here to take Marinette to lunch! And why are they all ignoring him!!!

Now Marinette is fully in the public's eye. Gossip blogs are being fed bits of info writing up each ‘candidates’ appeal as THE romantic partner to the Marinette Dupain-Cheng paris new darling, the girl with a heart of gold too oblivious to see the trail of hearts following her around! But there is still another contender yet to enter the game! Jaggeds been away on tour teaching Luka his up and coming protege all the tricks. And lets not lie Luka has his own fans now, enough to rival all the others. Jagged sees Luka as his own son, even calling him as much! Hell hes even adopted Luka and Juleka and when I say adopted I mean Jagged literally got shared custody of the kids when their real dad tried to start trouble once Luka started gaining fame. Luka and Juleka for one love their adopted father and his wonderful fiance Penny. But back to Jagged, being Jagged. 

The moment Jagged is back in Paris he's checking up on his favorite designer and hopefully future daughter in law! When… WHAT'S THIS?! All the other ritchies in Paris are playing his game! Trying to get Marinette married into THEIR families! Not rock and roll at all! He was here first! And so being Jagged he decides to make Luka’s stake in the race for Marinette’s heart clear! By spamming social media with photos of Marinette being cute with Luka, taking his measurements, going out with him, the pair babying Fang, the two passed out against each other after a long concert. And he has photos going back at least a year or two! Soon Luka’s fans pick up the hype starting a trending hashtag finding the pair cute! Jagged feels confident that hes won! When Audrey retaliates, and from there its a complete train wreck. Before long each pair has a hashtag filled with cute moments and arguing over whos dating the model / fashion designer! 

Meanwhile Adrien is drowning in denial as he goes through each hashtag seething about how many MORE photos everyone else has with Marinette, when HE is her very good friend and was here first! Felix, Chloe and Kagami on the other hand have declared open war after they tried to talk to each other about the hashtags reasonably only for it to devolve into “so you agree Marinette is best with me!” - “WHAT! No! Thats not what I said! Besides she clearly is best with me!” - “Ridiculous!” And so on. Poor Luka is having an entirely different reaction hiding in shame unsure how to face Marinette because he WAS going to ask her on a proper date now that she seems over Adrien, because even with everything she's the melody playing in his heart and he had a plan! But now his mom and sister are texting him and teasing him and apparently he has MORE competition! Who do these people think they are to deserve Marinette! No! Luka won't lose Jagged has been teaching him to be bold and confident! And Marinette is worth all of his efforts! Jagged REGRETS NOTHING even if Penny confiscated the tv remote!

Marinette meanwhile has no idea what's going on because the whole class made a dumb bet on when the designer would notice with one of the bet conditions being that no one could tip Marinette off and that they have to keep her away from Paparazzi so they dont spoil it either. And sense Alya is helping manage Marinette’s social media Marinette hasn't looked at it yet so she has NO idea what's happening. But her birthday is coming up next week and Chloe definitely didn't get dibs on planning a surprise party for her all so she could spoil the girl and RUB her GREAT relationship with Marinette into her competitions FACES! The competition however (and Adrien JustAfriend Agreste) have decided that they really aren't going down without a fight!

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#my fic #kagaminette #lukanette #adrienette #chlonette #chloenette #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #everyone loves marinette #kagami tsurugi #adrien agreste #felinette #felix graham de vanily #chloe sugar #chloe bourgeois #ml prompt

[sevenmikento]

A/N: hello!! this request sounds super lit but i am Scared of not writing their dialogue witty enough so imma just try my best! :D i hope you have a nice day as well hehe

genres: fluff, BIG angst, sort of happy ending?, tw death, tw blood and gore; 2k words

divine omniscience [Sukuna X Reader]

“Do you guys think it’s true? What Gojou-sensei said?” Nobara asks out of the blue as she casually munches on a fry that certainly was not from her tray.

“You gotta be more specific, dude,” Yuuji replies, speaking with his mouth half-full of burger. She scrunches her nose at him as she reaches for another one of Megumi’s french fries.

“Y’know when he said all that stuff about Sukuna having only one known trusted companion or whatever. I mean, everything in the texts seems pretty vague, no?”

“Yeah, ‘companion’ is not the kind of word I’d associate with someone like him.” Megumi chips in, pushing his tray closer to the girl sitting opposite him.

“Kinda wanted to ask if they meant it sexually but I swear he’ll just start giggling and wasting our time.”

The three friends continue to chatter on about their theories and interpretations of their earlier class’s contents, all the while completely unaware of the fourth party listening in–the one who is actually most knowledgeable on the topic they’re so oddly curious about.

Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that you are the one who knows the most, that is if you’re still alive. Though Sukuna doubts you died within the time he was away. You’re too smart for that.

The village chanted, faces obscured behind masks carved from wood and dyed red from the colour of the witch’s blood. Watching from within the shadows, Sukuna felt compelled to observe the ritual, having never felt such a strong surge in cursed energy in his entire existence.

He was proven to have wrongly assumed it was coming from the outraged villagers when they finally set your crucified body alight and a blanket of black cursed energy covered the area, engulfing every single one of the citizens beneath it. Bone-chilling screams and begs for mercy filled his ears, the sound muffled but satisfying to listen to nonetheless.

When the strange turn of events finally came to an end and the energy receded into your bloodied and broken body, the King of Curses himself decided that he’d finally found someone worth his time.

At the end of your torturous life as a human and the start of your existence as a newly born cursed spirit, you were honestly a little too much for Sukuna to handle. Despite having never heard of cursed energy or jujutsu sorcery, you were quick to pick up everything you needed to know and then some.

Not only were you dangerously intelligent, but you were also completely unphased by him and his raw power, no matter how much he made sure to display it–whether it be in the form of exterminating a town of people or setting a forest ablaze with just a snap of his fingers.

“Scared yet?” he would ask, a smug grin on his face. You would smile back without a hint of sarcasm or dishonesty.

“No,” you’d reply without a second thought, “because I know you will never hurt me.”

What Sukuna initially assumed was well-hidden arrogance turned out to be a mere fact you were stating. A piece of truth you’d gained due to the nature of your ever-growing curse technique. Outwardly, the King could deny it all he wanted to, he could threaten you day and night, grab your throat and tighten his grip just to prove you wrong but he would never–has never–done any harm unto you.

When he had come to accept that as the truth, he tried deluding himself into believing he kept you around merely for your wealth of knowledge and powerful supply of cursed energy. Those were, in fact, his reasons at the start of it all–they were why he even walked into the village that fateful day and used his reverse cursed technique on you.

“You can say that all you want,” you once said, reaching up to wipe the blood off his face with your sleeve while the same red substance stained your own skin, “but we both know the main reason you keep me by your side.”

He did not respond.

Instead, he scoffed and grabbed your chin with one hand before raising the other and mimicking your gesture. With an uncharacteristic tenderness, Sukuna wiped the blood off your face with his thumb as the cries of the dying soldiers around you slowly faded to nothing.

“Their name was (Y/N).” His voice echoes shortly within the confines of Yuuji’s dark bedroom.

“What?” the sorcerer blearily murmured, having been on the verge of falling asleep when the King of Curses himself decided to speak.

“My companion… though, they would have preferred the word ‘partner’... was named (Y/N).”

“Why’re you telling me this?” Yuuji groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“The inaccuracies your teachers spread to your friends are painful to listen to,” Sukuna scoffs. “Frankly, it’s insulting and disrespectful.” The cursed spirit’s choice of vocabulary throws his vessel off guard.

“... You must’ve liked them a lot, huh?” Yuuji responds, voice softer than before as he feels his initial frustration of being denied his sleep fading away. “It’s weird to imagine someone like you feeling indignant on someone else’s behalf.”

“Well,” Sukuna smirks to himself, “let’s just say they’re the only one I have any respect for in this godforsaken world.”

“He plans on betraying you,” you stated matter-of-factly, opening your eyes for the first time throughout the entire meeting.

Sukuna had called forth a few powerful cursed spirits under the pretence of forming an alliance, with his true intentions being to simply size them up and subtly intimidate them into leaving his newfound territory alone–if they valued their lives, that is. He didn’t need to tell you of his plans and he knew he didn’t have to for you to understand it completely.

The cursed spirit you’d singled out widened his eyes before his expression turned hostile. “Don’t spout bullshit! I’ve done nothing but agree with everything Sukuna-sama has said!”

Sukuna watched the events unfold silently, unable to help but feel something in his chest swell with warmth as he observed you.

“I know everything.” Your simple reply was enough to enrage the spirit who shot out of his chair and seemingly began to lunge in your direction.

“You fucking wh–!” he cried.

Where his head used to sit was a neck sliced cleanly through the middle as everyone in the room felt a gust of wind brush past their terrified faces. The only outliers were you and the perpetrator of the murder himself, both smiling as one would out on a walk on a pleasant afternoon. His skull bounces twice on the tatami flooring before it disappears alongside his body.

“That was a bit much, don’t you think, Sukuna?” The other cursed spirits practically break out in a cold sweat upon hearing you so daringly speak to the King of Curses after such a display of his power.

“That was merciful, my dear,” he responded casually, reaching out a clean hand to wipe away the droplets of blood that had reached your face. Still touching you, he turned to the others. “Does anyone else have anything to say?”

“No, they’re terrified,” you laugh when they fail to respond, all still shaking where they sat.

“Good–”

“Of me.”

He scrunches his nose and softly pushes your face away but a smile still creeps onto his face as he thinks to himself, ‘as they should be.’

Nobara and Megumi would find it hard to believe had the information not come directly from Yuuji’s mouth, as well as the additional mouth that had unceremoniously popped up on his cheek mid-conversation.

“You’re saying everything wrong!” Sukuna had exclaimed after making his appearance and refusing to leave until Yuuji had gotten all the facts right.

When he was finally satisfied, he still didn’t leave right away, sensing the two sorcerers wanted to know more. “Well?” He prompts. “Just ask your fucking questions already, we don’t have all day.”

“If you put it like that… then I’ll just ask it as it is and you’re not allowed to get all pissy, ‘kay?” Nobara responds. Megumi and Yuuji share a nervous glance.

“How’re you so sure they’re not dead?”

He wished he hadn’t left you on such a bad note; that he didn’t spit at your feet and push you away when you tried to stop him from leaving the temple in which you both sought refuge. He wished he’d at least bade you a proper farewell and that his last words to you didn’t consist of him questioning your abilities just so he could keep his ego intact.

As Sukuna laid dying, surrounded by Japan’s most powerful sorcerers, he realised, finally, that he would never see you again; or feel your hand wipe at his face after another victorious battle.

For the first time in his life, the King of Curses shed a tear.

The braver sorcerers scoffed, some even taunted him, assuming he was merely afraid of death, whereas the warier ones hesitated in approaching him to deliver the final blow, taken aback by the uncharacteristic gesture. Still, with his immense cursed energy forming a protective barrier around him as a last resort, the sorcerers hadn’t won the battle quite yet.

A few minutes later, in fact, they lost it.

Sukuna remains silent, pondering over Nobara’s question. As promised, he didn’t show his anger and hid his grief even better. Truth be told, he doesn’t know if you’re alive.

“I told you not to go,” you spoke, voice trembling as you rested his head in your lap, your hands wiping the blood off his face. “I told you you’d die, didn’t I? Why didn’t you listen? Why?”

The sound of your soft sobs mingled with the noise from outside the pitch-black barrier you’d placed around the both of you. The sorcerers who survived your ambush were chipping away at your cursed energy shield and it was only a matter of time before they would break through.

“Even after all I said to you before I left,” Sukuna murmurs, relishing in the feeling of your skin against his, “this is what you choose to scold me over?” He let out a weak chuckle.

“I know of your grief and regret, I know you’re sorry and I’ve long forgiven you.”

“Thank you, my (Y/N).” He turned his head to press his lips against your palm for the final time. “Now go. You have to escape before the damned sorcerers force their way in.”

“No.” Your defiant tone juxtaposed with your tear stricken face amused him. “I’ll be here to see you off and then I’ll kill them all.” You leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “I’ll wait for your return, my love.”

When Sukuna refused to answer Nobara’s question and promptly disappeared, the trio assumed that was the end of it all. As much as they wanted to leave the information behind them, they still find themselves talking about it as they wait in line at a new sushi place that opened near the school.

“Kinda weird he was so insistent on telling us everything, huh?” Yuuji remarks.

“I highly doubt that was close to everything, though.” Megumi scratches the back of his head. “It felt like he was withholding a lot, like when he didn’t answer Nobara’s question.”

“Yeah, that was pretty lame,” she says with a pout. “I really wanna know if they’re alive or not. I mean, their whole story was pretty interesting but imagine how scary it’ll be if (Y/N) was still alive and in Japan after all this time.”

“Table for three, please,” Yuuji says to the staff at the counter once it’s their turn. They stare at him for a brief moment before a happy yet somehow sinister smile stretches across their face. The jujutsu sorcerer feels his blood run cold as he feels Sukuna suddenly begin to vie for control over his body.

“Finally,” you whisper, body and soul flooded with sheer relief as tears run down your face. You reach your hand out to touch Yuuji’s face and though he tries his very hardest to turn away and run, he finds his body frozen in place. “I’ve been waiting for you, my love.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #imagines #scenarios #fluff #angst #somewhat happy ending #tw death #tw blood and gore

[shihalyfie]

The importance of a burnt egg

Appmon is a very over-the-top and silly series, which is one of its standout features in a story that features some really heavy topics (both emotionally and academically). The first presumable reason as to why the series is this way is tone; if it weren’t for all of this dorky silliness, the sheer weight of the story could easily get overwhelming to the point it becomes difficult to digest (especially considering this is a kids’ series). Having all the fun parts helps make the delivery more palatable and easier to understand, allowing it to cover some pretty deep topics it might not be able to otherwise.

However, it’s important to realize that this is most definitely not the only reason for these kinds of things -- the strange wackiness is also very important to the theme of the series itself. At first, it might seem a bit strange to insinuate that something like a burnt egg actually has theme importance, but you’d be surprised...

(Note that there are spoilers for the series in the rest of this post.)

Let’s fast-forward to the end of the series, episode 52, when Leviathan makes its case as to why humanity should accept its ideal world.

The question of whether it’s better to have emotions or not has been a staple theme of sci-fi (especially AI-themed sci-fi) as long as the genre has existed, but when you get to the end of Appmon and everything that’s led up to it, you have to admit that it makes a pretty compelling case. Leviathan isn’t saying this out of simply just being condescending about humanity being bad at taking care of itself; it really, truly thinks that emotions and hearts are doing everyone an inconvenience. It itself even understands the concept of “death”, and believes it’s doing everyone a favor by keeping everyone from it. Through all of the previous episodes, we’d seen all of the messiness and emotional pain that Leviathan is warning against. Haru just went through a whole cycle of learning he might have been gaslighted. Eri went through the bittersweetness of still not being able to attain the goal she’d worked so hard for. Astra’s still figuring out what to do with this life and what place his family has in his future. Rei had to go through the pain of losing and having to chase after his own family for the entire series. Yuujin, depending on Haru’s choices, may end up dying, with every purpose and hobby he’d built up coming to an end.

Yeah. Life kinda sucks sometimes. There’s a lot of problems going on in society, tons of heartbreak, and everyone’s interests clashing into each other create strife and suffering. Wouldn’t it be better to wipe all that away? Forget everything and let an objective system handle it all? No more need to make choices, especially when the ability to make choices sometimes leads to making bad ones; the system will efficiently organize everything, without any of that chaos or strife or pain. Sounds great, right?

Well, firstly, the problem with this is that Leviathan isn’t a perfect, unbiased system. Nor is anything else in this world. As many AI researchers will tell you right now, even the most advanced black-box AI algorithms are still made by humans, with human biases, and subject to imperfections, because anything part of an imperfect world will still be imperfect. We see a brief glimpse of recognizing the series resident No Guy in the faceless crowd; its job of supposedly wiping misery and pain from the population isn’t exactly working the way it thinks it is. Even Leviathan does briefly admit that it has more it wants to learn. In fact, Leviathan’s defeat largely centers around its realization it doesn’t understand everything about the world after all -- Haru and his friends managed to derail its ostensibly perfect plan that had been building up over the series at the last minute, and Haru himself made a shocking unexpected “third option” choice to the dilemma it’d provided it. “Humans have a surprising side to them,” after all.

As Appmon’s resident edgelord, Rei has an amusing style of writing in that he’s quite the serious person yet keeps getting put in increasingly absurd and comedic situations. There are a lot of reasons for it -- making it clear that he’s not quite as good at the whole edgy schtick as he pretends to be, and also the sheer juxtaposition being funny -- but this really comes to a head in episode 42, where Rei is constantly placed in increasingly ridiculous situations and contexts until the very end, and said very end takes all of the stupid hilarity and suddenly punches you in the face with it when it connects to how Hajime is eventually found. In the end, all of Hackmon’s abilities and all the cognitive thinking in the world paled in comparison to Rei doing something so phenomenally stupid that Hajime remembered his brother and laughed.

After all, if we’re talking about emotions, you can’t forget the one that’s repeatedly permeated all of media and sentiment as well: connection and love. And as it turns out, Hajime recognizes his brother when his brother is doing something stupid.

In the following episode, episode 43, pay close attention to the sequence of events when Rei tries to get Hajime to wake up. Rei tried everything, ranging from getting the Appmon to help, to taking him out everywhere, to cooking every kind of egg under the sun. But here’s what’s significant: we’re treated to a montage of Rei making those eggs, and every time we see them, Rei makes them correctly, because he’d gotten better at making eggs since Hajime had been taken away. And that’s exactly what the problem was, because the moment Rei messed up out of being lost in thought, burning the egg, that was the one and only time that had any significance to Hajime, enough to actually bring him back.

In other words: it was the human mistake, not anything perfected, that actually had meaning.

Burnt eggs shouldn’t exist in Leviathan’s world. That’s a byproduct of bad choices. It’s inefficient and clumsy, and wouldn’t be happening if a perfect system were running everything. But it’s those imperfections and mistakes and slip-ups and all of the inconsistent, flawed parts of humanity that create connections and differences and make the world go ‘round. And in a world increasingly trying to make things more efficient and closer to “perfect”, this is what we risk losing.

YJ-14 was a “failure”. It failed at its job, and whatever routine it was supposed to be using to please Haru ended up becoming something inefficient and messy that helped derail Leviathan’s plans. For it, Yuujin ended up having doubts and pain, and having to face death. But as he puts it: because of all that, he got to meet Haru, and he got to be Haru’s friend, and live the kind of life a human would live, with happiness and aspirations and relationships to others. And, as it seems, that wild, messy life was fulfilling enough to be worth him sacrificing his life for Haru.

Besides, Haru was right: Yuujin wouldn’t have been able to do this if he didn’t have a heart. Artificial intelligence advancing also means advancing enough to understand this, too. And as Haru had told Leviathan earlier, while Leviathan insisted that everyone having the ability to make their own choices was making everyone miserable, Haru counters that all of their choices and will had been what allowed them to initially defeat Leviathan, too. Despite all the hardships they’d faced, they’d chosen to overcome those hardships, and came out the better for it.

The world Haru lives in is messy, ridiculous, and with a lot of problems everywhere. Leviathan may be gone by the end of the series, but the technology its world lives on still remains, and there’s still uncertainty in the future about what might happen with those future developments. But this was the world Haru and his friends chose to protect -- one that’s not perfect or clean by any means, but one where all the weird, strange zaniness makes it worth going through all the converse pain and misery for, because those mistakes and rough parts have meaning of their own, too.

Even if that means burning some eggs a few times.

#digimon #appmon #digimon universe appli monsters #shihameta #katsura rei #rei katsura

[thebookreader12345]

Stop the Violence

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Best Friend! reader

Summary: Y/N has been hiding her abusive past for all her life, and somehow, she’s managed to keep it a secret from Intelligence, and her best friend, Jay Halstead, this long. However, when someone sees something they shouldn’t have, Y/N’s world changes, and the only way she can get through it is with Jay at her side

Requested: Yes, by @virtualreader​

Warnings: abusive relationship, talk and depiction of a beating, alcohol abuse

Word Count: 1,764 Words

I tugged my sleeves down for the umpteenth time this morning, hoping that they would stay in their current position, but I knew they wouldn’t. I should’ve just worn a hoodie, but alas, all of mine were dirty, and since I didn’t feel like doing laundry last night, I was stuck with this long sleeved shirt whose sleeves never stayed all the way down my arms, and always found a way to ride up.

“You okay over there?” Jay questioned from where he was seated at his desk across the room.

“I’m fine,” I reply. “It’s just that these stupid sleeves won’t stay down.”

“Just role them up,” Jay proposed. “It’s warm in here.”

“It’s cool,” I insist. “I’ll just deal with it.” Jay hesitated, as if he wanted to say something, but ended up not talking and went back to doing his paperwork. That’s when Kevin and Adam entered the bullpen side by side, both with a cup of coffee in their hands. “Hey, guys. Either of you know when Voight’s gonna be in?”

“Uh, no,” Adam responded. “Why?”

“I need to run a quick errand. Cover for me?” I ask Jay.

Jay nodded. “Sure. Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to run an errand for my dad. I’ll be back soon,” I say quickly and stuff my phone into my pocket before heading for the stairs. 

My dad and I have never really been close. I was always closer to my mom, but when I was 16, she passed away from heart failure, leaving my dad to raise me all by himself. That’s when the problems began. My dad started drinking more often, coming home drunk after work. During these times, he would become somewhat aggressive. It was just little things though, like grabbing my arm a bit too rough. I waved it off at first because he was grieving over the love of his life, and I was sure he’d get over it in a few months. Except it never stopped. The drinking continued, not just after work at bars, but at the house too. And the violence didn’t stop either. In fact, it just got worse. Grabbing turned into smacking, and then punching. I thought that when I moved out, things would be different. I wanted to stop going by his house to say hello, but he was the only close family I had left, so I continued stopping by and running errands for him. The abuse didn’t happen as often as before, but when it did, I had to figure out how to hide the bruises, hence me wearing long sleeves and a lot of makeup. It was hard keeping this from the rest of the unit, especially Jay, who was my best friend, but I didn’t want them to think differently of me when they heard about my family life.

The reason for my errand was that my dad wanted a few things from the grocery store, and since he was apparently busy, he asked if I could pick those things up. I didn’t want to because I had work, but because Voight wasn’t in yet, I figured I’d just do it now to stop my dad from bothering me for the rest of the day. So, I left the district and drove to the grocery store, hoping that I could get this done as quick as possible. It didn’t take me long to grab everything my dad needed, including beer. I could’ve just not bought it, but that would make him angry, and I didn’t want to face that at the moment. After loading everything into my car, I made the short drive to my dad’s house.

“Dad! I’m here!” I call out into the house as I stepped inside. To the right was the living room, and behind that was the kitchen. My dad was sitting in the living room on his recliner with the TV on, not doing a single thing, which made me mad because I left work for him, but I pushed those thoughts aside and made my way into the kitchen to set the groceries down.

“What kind of beer did you get?” my dad asked as I headed back into the living room.

“Uh, Budweiser,” I answer.

“I asked for Corona,” my dad spoke.

“Yeah, I know, but I had to be quick cause I have to get back to work, so I just grabbed the first thing I saw,” I explain and fish my keys out of my pocket.

My dad growled and stood up. “So your work is more important than your own father?”

“At the moment, yeah,” I reply. Right after I said that, I immediately regretted it. I could see my father’s face change, and before I could even move, my dad stepped forward and punched me in the face, catching me square in the eye. I cried out in pain and fell to the floor, clutching the side of my face, which was now throbbing. “Dad, please stop,” I beg. But he didn’t stop there and took another step towards me, this time sending a kick straight to my ribs. Pain exploded in my side where the tip of his boot had come in contact with me, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Just before my dad could kick me again, the door to the house was kicked open, and seconds later, Jay and Hailey appeared.

“Hey! Step away from her,” Jay ordered with his gun raised. My father glanced between me and the cops, and decided it was better not to go against their orders, so he took a step back. Hailey didn’t waste any time and handcuffed my father’s hands behind his back, telling him his rights as she led him out to the car.

“J-Jay? What are you doing here?” I croak out and sit up, which sent more pain throughout my body.

“Hailey and I came down to see what was taking you so long, and to tell you that we’ve got no new cases, so Voight gave us the day off. I uh, I saw everything through the window,” Jay mumbled and gestured towards the big glass pane in the wall behind us. “I’m gonna take you to the hospital, okay?”

I shook my head. “N-no. I just want to go home.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen. I’ll bring you back to my place, and then I’ll call Will over to check you over,” Jay said and held out a hand to help me up. I took his hand, allowing him to pull me up, but pain racked my body. “All right. Lets go.” While Hailey used Jay’s truck to get my father back to the district, Jay drove my car back to his apartment. A few minutes after we got there, Will arrived to see if any of my injuries were severe enough to where I would need professional care.

“Your orbital bone isn’t broken, just bruised,” Will informed me as he examined my eye. “Jay also said something about your side.” I nodded and lifted up my shirt so that Will could get a look at my side. A reddish purple bruise had already began to form, and based on it’s size and deep color, I knew it would be there for awhile. Will pressed on the bruise, and I winced in pain, immediately tensing away from his hand. “Sorry. Uh, your ribs don’t look broken either. But you should be careful the next few days so you don’t hurt yourself any more. You should also ice your side and your eye. That’ll help the swelling go down.”

“Thanks, Will,” Jay told his brother, who left seconds later, leaving Jay and I alone in the apartment. I took a seat on the couch, my back resting against the arm rest, and Jay sat down on the opposite side, moving his body so it mirrored mine. For a few moments, we sat in silence, but finally, Jay spoke up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I sighed. “What was I going to say, Jay? ‘Oh, hey, just to let you know, I’ve got an abusive father who beats me over the stupidest things?’”

“You could’ve at least talked to Hailey,” Jay put in.

“I know,” I state. “But what kind of friend would I be if I made her relive her own terrible memories?” Again, we were silent for a few seconds, and again, Jay broke that silence.

“How long has this been going on?” Jay questioned.

“Since I was 16,” I reply softly, tears beginning to gather in my eyes. “He wasn’t always like this, but after my mom died, he changed. The beatings, they didn’t start until I was in college, but I think that made them worse.” I took a deep breath and wiped at my eyes, cleaning the tears off of my face. “I-I should’ve said something, should’ve done something. I mean, I’m a cop. I should’ve been able to defend myself, but I just let the beatings happen. I let him hit me.”

“Hey,” Jay murmured and got up from his seat. From there he moved to the seat next to me and placed a comforting hand on my knee. “Don’t blame what he did on you. This isn’t your fault. It was never your fault.”

I sniffled and wiped more tears from my face. “I know, but it’s hard not to think that it is. If anything, I should’ve gone to the unit, or at least talked to you.”

“You’re talking to me now, and that’s all that matters,” Jay confessed and gave me a small smile.

“So, what’s gonna happen to my dad?” I ask.

“He’s uh, he’s going to get jail time. He got charged with assault down at the 21st. It looks like it’ll only be a year or two for him in prison, but I am going to make sure he’s never able to hurt you again. That’s a promise I intend on keeping,” Jay admitted. I smiled and sat up, pushing my legs to the side so that I could lean forward and hug Jay. He squeezed me back tightly, and being in the arms of my best friend gave me the comfort I really needed right now.

“Thank you,” I whisper into his chest. “For everything.”

“You’re my best friend, Y/N. I’d do anything for you. Now, I say we order some takeout and have a movie night. What do you think?” Jay quizzed.

“I think that sounds like a great idea. Lets do it,” I say.

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Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @dreamingmanip @campingmonkey @winterberryfox @nevertoofarfromivar @anotherfan07 @giagma @mrspeacem1nusone @i-like-sparkly-things

#one chicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead imagine #x reader #imagine #imagines