#bitter shit from fucking cowards

[omitea]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

. ft. t. fushiguro

. content. emotionally unavailable toji, brief mention of intimacy, toji being an asshole n lacks communication, allusions to cheating (not true), breakup, angst.

. note. fuck toji, he deserves the angst. kinda sucks. too lazy to proofread.

it is a well known fact that the man named toji fushiguro is a cold hearted man.

the same man who does shady business for a living, the same man who used to have a different girl every week in his bed and the exact same man who was the most self-absorbed being one could lay their eyes on.

when you first met him, there was something quite intriguing about him. his dark bangs hanging above his green eyes— beautiful yet intimidating to gaze at. the sharpness of his jaw, the soft pink color of his lips that are adorned by a scar at the corner. if you were to guess, he was probably around his early thirties.

yet you felt something— more likely your gut telling you that this man is purely surrounded by dark shadows. shadows that will consume your light bit by bit as you step into the darkness that awaits. dimming your flame like a single blow can put out a candle. or how quickly a popsicle could melt on a hot day by the pool.

but you longed for something. something a part of you knew he wouldn’t be able to give you. maybe a part of you hoped that the man you were welcoming into your life wouldn’t be so bad. wouldn’t take advantage of your pure heart you were willing to give. but as days pass, weeks, months and eventually a year— you realize that some people aren’t deserving of good things.

he arrived home after two days of staying who knows where. sometimes he was out for a week— longest was two. whenever you asked, he would just brush you off. not giving you an explanation, keeping you in the dark with your own racing thoughts. communicating is something toji isn’t the best at, if you even wanna call it that. it’s something he deeply lacks, and doesn’t bother to work on. you tried. trying multiple ways for him to open up, but failing each time as moments go by.

during intimacy, you never seem to feel connected to the man. grunts and moans of pleasure, but none seem to sound or feel like love. not even the supposedly sweet words he mumbles in your ear while rutting his hips against yours. everything feels empty. and soon enough, your heart will too.

“toji,” you sighed, following behind him as he relaxed on the couch. no answer. “toji, can you at least spare me a moment?.” at that, he finally looked up to you. you couldn’t explain the expression he bared on his face. maybe a mixture of irritation? or exhaustion?

“where were you?,” you question. a simple question that kept you up at night on days he wouldn’t come home. it always made your skin itch— wondering if maybe there was someone else he found home in.

“non’ya business,” he grumbled. you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep focus on the random show that was playing on the television. you shifted on your feet— contemplating whether it’s worth it to keep pushing. that was the only was in this situation to seek for answers.

“it is my business when i’m the one who’s waiting here like a fool,” you said bitterly. bitter like the black coffee he liked to drink in the cold mornings, bitter like the burnt food that sat on the stove when it was long forgotten during a make out session. maybe even more bitter than his next words.

“yeah, most likely a fool if ya think m’ gonna tell ya shit,” he grinned. the side that adorned his scar lifting up. “‘m home now, aren’t i.”

you felt angry. hands shaking as you convinced yourself not to choke him right here and now. you took a deep breath, “can you at least pretend to care? about me? about this fucked-up relationship?.”

he shrugged and placed both of his hands under his head. “for such a feared man, you sure are a coward,” you mumbled. by the time those words left your mouth, the room felt colder and a shiver ran down your spine. you’re far from scared of him, but it’s more about the situation that’s gonna worsen.

“the fuck did ya say to me?,” he stood up. his nose flared as he inched closer to you. “ya don’t have any idea how hard it is to put up with ya shit,” he spat. your eyes remained on his, daring him to speak further. he ran his hand down his face, laughing as he shook his head.

“fucking hell, for all it’s worth, being away from you was probably the best i’ve felt in months.”

you took a step back, scoffing. “then where were you all those times, mhm?.” the question remained. picking at your skin— eating you alive as each second ticked on the clock. it was quiet for a few seconds, it felt too long for it to be so.

“probably fucking some random bitch behind your back,” he said rather calmly. as if it was the most normal thing you’ve both exchanged today.

shit

your heart dropped, your knees felt weak and your brain began to pound against your skull. your breath hitched and before you knew it, the image of toji began to blur. eyes stinging and soon the tears started to fall down your cheeks.

toji remained still. blank expression evident on his face as he tried to calm his heart that was ready to jump out of his throat. he didn’t mean that. he swears he would never. he doesn’t know what came over him.

the sniffles he heard coming from your shaking body made him snap out of it. he should say something, anything. drop to his knees begging you to hear him out. but no to avail, he stays put. he’s not the type of man to do that, he promised himself.

toji isn’t the type to express his emotions, to wear his heart on his sleeve. to make you feel loved, to make you feel understood. but instead he makes you feel the opposite. unwanted, not deserving of love, worthless…

he sees you walking towards the bedroom, guessing you’re grabbing your stuff to leave. his scarred lip twitches to call out to you, and he finally understands. he knows that he’s truly the only one who was undeserving of you and your precious heart all along.

so he stays behind. watching your back as you head out the door without uttering a single word. and that was the last time you’ve seen him and the last time you would ever settle for less.

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !

#—sinnie posts ♡ #☆ —jjk! #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji #toji fushiguro angst #toji angst #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader

[seijorhi]

Wither and Bleed

sorry for the wait y'all <33 Daishou Suguru x female reader, Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader w.c 4.6k tw: dubcon, yandere themes, kidnapping, nsfw, stockholm syndrome, mentions of blood, alcoholism, mild smut

Daishou eyes the bottom of his glass dispassionately, watching the amber dregs of whiskey roll as he slowly tilts it – pointedly ignoring the sound of footsteps approaching, the low, mocking whistle that follows.

“I’d say it’s good to see you, Daishou, but I gotta be honest, this place is a dump and you look like shit.”

There’s a flush high on his cheekbones, his eyes are glazed, bloodshot. Despite the heaviness in his head, the liquor fuelled haze and exhaustion that makes pulling a coherent train of thought… somewhat difficult, he’s not so far gone that he can’t recognise the grating voice and accompanying laugh. 

One more. One more, and maybe then he’ll stumble off home to continue drinking in peace. That, or he’ll pass out the second he hits the couch. At this point, he’s not picky. 

“Another,” he rasps at the bartender, whose only response, aside from the surly look he sends Daishou’s way, is to unscrew the cap of the bottle of cheap whiskey and tilt it back over his glass. Glaring, all the while. 

Once upon a time, Daishou might’ve said something to that. Made some snarky remark, goaded him ‘til he got a rise – or got his ass thrown out.

(You’d chide him for it, too, in that exasperated tone of yours. He’d be tempted to think you were serious, but you’d sigh, call him hopeless and your hand would snake in his on the walk home anyway.)

Disdainful sneers, the staring, the whispers and pointing, baldie behind the bar wouldn’t be the first stranger to recognise him. Daishou can’t even blame the guy, really. A woman goes missing, all eyes turn to the husband. The boyfriend. The ex. He might be a piece of work, depending on who you asked –an asshole, arrogant, a conniving son of a bitch – but hell would freeze over before he’d ever lay a hand on his girl. On any girl. 

So, yeah, he gets why the guy’s staring at him like he’s the scum of the earth. Doesn’t make it any less of a bitter pill to swallow. 

“You planning on ignoring me, then?” 

“Trying to,” he mutters, accepting the drink with a short dip of his chin. The whiskey burns on the way down, warming his chest through. Bottom shelf liquor’s too cheap to enjoy for much else. Daishou closes his eyes, “Leave me alone.”

And that stupid, suit-wearing, smug asshole laughs, and pulls out the seat next to him. 

Fucking terrific.

Kuroo tuts, motioning at the bartender for a drink of his own, “Aw, c’mon. That’s no way to greet an old friend, is it?” He waits a beat for the reaction that doesn’t come, the mirth in his eyes fading somewhat, then sighs. In a more sober voice, he says, “I heard Yotsuya Motors dropped you. I’m sorry, man.”

The muscle in his jaw tightens, his knuckles turning white. Dropped was a good way of putting it. Closer to the truth than the bullshit story they’d peddled online and to the fans, the one wherein Daishou and the Yotsuya Motor Spirits had amicably reached the decision to part ways before the beginning of the new season. 

‘This isn’t a position any of us want to be in, Suguru. You’re a good player, you’ve done well this past season, but you have to consider how this looks for both the team and the V League as a whole. We’re not saying you’ve done anything wrong – of course not – only that the public perception holds weight these days.’

And so it went. He’d sat there, numb, and listened for fifteen minutes while the head coach and upper management explained that him ‘voluntarily’ stepping down was in his best interest. Pretending, all the while, that they were on his side. That they for one second actually believed in his innocence. 

The cowards couldn’t even look him in the eye. 

None of which makes enduring his old rival’s fake fucking sympathy any easier. 

“For what it’s worth,” Kuroo continues, “while you’ve always been a cheating rat bastard, you don’t strike me as the girlfriend murdering kind–”

One minute, his drink is in his hand, the next, he’s hurled it against the wall behind Kuroo’s head, the glass shattering on impact, cheap whiskey sliding down the paint, and Daishou’s on his feet, chest heaving, muscles taut. Hands shaking as they flex and curl around nothing. 

For once, Kuroo’s stunned into absolute silence. 

The whole bar stills, a deathly quiet falling over the room. The other patrons gawk at him, wide eyed and horrified – a violent unravelling they’re eager to glut themselves on – no noise but the forgotten hum of 80’s rock drifting through the speakers. 

No one breathes.

No one moves.

Daishou, shaking, trembling in the cold wake of his own dissipating rage, shudders out a strangled breath. “She’s not–” the words stick in his throat; tight, painful. He forces them out through gritted teeth, “She’s not dead.”

Kuroo, staring back at him with some inscrutable expression, says nothing. Does nothing, aside from slowly lowering his drink – still untouched – down to the bar, as though Daishou hadn’t just pitched a glass tumbler right past his head. At his head, technically. 

“Out,” the bartender snaps after a tense beat, jabbing one thick finger towards the door. “Get the fuck out!”

Daishou can barely hear him over the ringing in his ears. 

“She’s not dead,” he repeats, his voice hoarse. 

Through all of this, it’s the one thought he won’t entertain. No matter how many times he’s hauled back into the police station, or someone recognises him from the news and the dirty looks and whispers start. No matter how much hatred and vitriol and accusations are thrown his way, that thought alone is constant. 

You can’t be dead.

“Out!” 

Daishou doesn’t need to be told a third time. He spares the raven haired bastard one last look on his way out, sneering, and lets the door sweep shut behind him. 

The place was a shithole anyway.

And he can pretend, for a minute or two, that the churning, sick feeling eating away at his insides is the liquor, that the sheen in his eyes is purely due to the icy bite of the wind as he stumbles off in the direction of home.

Too much alcohol flooding his veins, too screwed up to register the prickling on the nape of his neck, or the footsteps that follow after him, down the narrow laneway – a shortcut he’s taken a thousand times.

When the blow comes, striking hard and fast at the back of his head, Daishou drops like a stone.

—

When Daishou was seven years old, he fell out of the tree in his backyard and broke his arm. He also managed to knock himself out – for all of about five seconds.

Long enough to scare the hell out of his parents, anyway. When he woke up, bleary and dazed, his parents hovering over him, Daishou didn’t feel any pain, not immediately. That’d come later, trying not to blubber and wail in the back seat of his dad’s car on the way to the E.R. At first, though, it was just… sort of like being shaken from a deep, deep sleep. Disorientating, more than anything else. 

This isn’t like that at all.

Coming to, all Daishou can focus on is the pain in the back of his skull. His eyes are too heavy to lift, his limbs sluggish and sore. From a dry, cotton mouth, a low groan escapes him.  

At first, he assumes he’s at home – lying sprawled on the bathroom floor, having hurled up his guts through the night. Wouldn’t be the first time, and considering his sorry state, he’d hazard a guess that it wouldn’t be the last, either. 

“Suguru.”

Warmth. A loosening in his chest. Despite the discomfort, the sound of your voice never fails to soothe. In the weeks that you’ve been missing, Daishou’s dreamed of waking up beside you. Of rolling over and cracking an eye open to find you right there, fast asleep and curled up beside him, where you’ve always been. 

Where you’ve always belonged. 

You stir when his fingertips trace along your jaw, smile in that sleepy way of yours, catching his hand, keeping him there. And even in his dream, when there’s no reason for his chest to tighten, a lump to settle in his throat at the sight of you, it does. 

“Suguru, listen to me!” your voice pleads.

There are other dreams, ones where you’re lying on the living room floor surrounded by a pool of blood. There’s a kitchen knife sticking out of your chest, and he’s the one holding it. 

Daishou prefers the ones where you’re alive. Safe. Home with him. 

“You have to wake up.”

Why? He wakes up and you disappear again. Cheek pressed to the cold bathroom tiles, sick to his stomach and head throbbing.

And you still won’t be there.

“Please.” Your voice sounds… different. Not soft and loving, not the sleep tinged murmur he usually hears. “Please, Suguru, you’ve gotta wake up! Open your eyes for me.”

Daishou doesn’t want to. Pounding head or not, he’d stay in the dark with you – your voice, strained as it is – as long as his subconscious would allow. But that’s not a choice he gets to make, leaden lids slowly prying open, squinting under the influx of light.

The first day or two after you disappeared, Daishou convinced himself that despite all the evidence to the contrary, you weren’t gone gone. An accident, a miscommunication, dead phone, fuck, a fight he didn’t remember picking; he clung to any excuse, any explanation that left room for you walking through the door, sheepishly abashed over all the fuss caused. 

He would’ve forgiven you – for anything. 

The days passed, the cops came by, dragged him in for questioning, and Daishou started to realise that you weren’t staying with your parents, or a friend. You weren’t pissed at him for something stupid he did or said. You weren’t coming home on your own. 

Which left the alternative. 

People who disappear like you did; out of the blue, no warning, no trace – they don’t come back unscathed. 

If they come back. 

Daishou’s had weeks now to sit with that – while he drowns himself in bottom shelf whiskey and cheap beer, wallowing in his own fucking misery, you’re going through an unimaginable hell. 

Blinking against the brightness, the room slowly comes into focus, his eyes adjusting, and Daishou’s heart leaps into his throat. He forgets the pain. Forgets that he’s spent weeks – months, now – thinking over every awful eventuality and drinking himself stupid in the process. All he sees is you; sitting up in bed, hair tousled, wearing an old, faded tee two sizes too big, looking the way you do in the dreams he has where you never disappeared. 

“Suguru,” you gasp, the noise choked, halfway to a sob, your wobbling smile mired by the sheen of tears brimming behind your lashes. 

But Daishou doesn’t see that. Doesn’t register it, not as he scrambles forward, his desperation to touch you, feel you, make sure you’re here and you’re real overriding every other sense–

Only for the cold, metal handcuffs hooked from his wrist to the broken radiator to pull taut, jerking him to a stop. 

“… The fuck?” he mutters, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. Experimentally, he tugs on it again. 

It doesn’t budge. 

Daishou swallows, mouth dry, blood running cold, and as this new, unsettling reality takes root, slowly drags his gaze from his cuffed hand back to the bed. To you, watching him with a devastation that has his heart clenching. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong, his subconscious sings, the warning bells tolling, and for the first time since he opened his eyes in this unfamiliar room, Daishou sees you.

The mottled marks of red and purple, fading yellow littered across your exposed collarbone, trailing along your neck. The shadows under bloodshot eyes, the pallor of your skin. 

And Daishou remembers.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him through tears, the words spilling out as though you’re confessing some great, unforgivable sin. “It’s my fault, Suguru. It’s all my fault.”

His mouth opens – all that comes out is a strangled rasp of your name, which only serves to make you cry harder, shoulders shaking and a hand clamped over your lips to stifle them. 

Daishou’s never wanted to wake up from a nightmare so badly. He’s never wanted so desperately to pinch himself and prove he’s not dreaming.

But at the sound of footsteps approaching, a change sweeps over you. You stiffen, freezing for the briefest of moments before you hastily set about wiping away the evidence of tears, shooting him a pleading, desperate look he doesn’t really understand.

Not until the deadbolt clicks and the door swings open, and Daishou’s confronted with the man who took everything from him.

One by one, the pieces fall into place with horrifying clarity. 

The bar, their ‘chance’ meeting, all that goading– ‘For what it’s worth, while you’ve always been a cheating rat bastard, you don’t strike me as the girlfriend murdering kind.’ 

A small, insane part of him wants to laugh hysterically.

He settles for a baser instinct. Strains against the chain at his wrist, face twisted into a feral snarl, and hisses, “You fucking asshole.”

Kuroo’s eyes crinkle with a grin, but his attention doesn’t remain on Daishou for long. On cue, you shuffle to the edge of the bed, shoulders low and eyes glistening. “I-I’m sorry, Tetsurou,” you murmur, meek and demure.  

The fucker laps it right up. Coos as he makes his way over, disregarding his other captive entirely. Two long fingers curl beneath your chin, tilting it upwards. He holds you there, lets his thumb brush along your lower lip. You shiver, and that too he greedily drinks in. 

He doubts very much that Kuroo’s forgotten about him, yet the way he stares at you – insatiable, a craving that goes too deep, a yearning too consuming – and you back at him, Daishou may as well have been invisible 

A wave of disgust seeps through his bones, tainting his blood, curdling in his stomach – but he doesn’t look away. He can’t bear that, either. 

When Kuroo finally decides to close that gap and kiss you, you don’t offer a shred of hesitation. You surrender to it, breath hitching when he catches your lip between his teeth and nips at it– 

(The way you used to when he’d do the same.)

–and when he breaks away, a strand of his spit still connecting you, and moves to cup your tear stained cheek, you nuzzle into him, peppering soft little kisses to his palm.

“I know, sweetheart,” he drawls, his voice a touch deeper, clearly affected by how sweetly you’re trying to pacify him. “But actions gotta have consequences. I warned you what’d happen if you brought him up again,” he pauses, and chuckles a little, “and you know I’m too much of a jealous bastard to let that kinda stuff slide.”

Hooded, hazel eyes flicker back to him, pinning him in place. The amusement in Kuroo’s face fades, leaving behind a blistering cold contempt as he regards his old high school rival. 

Daishou sneers back. 

“You said you loved him.”

“I don’t,” comes the immediate response. Too quick. 

Kuroo scoffs. “You still mumble his damn name in your sleep. He the one you’re imagining when I’m buried inside of you, making you cum, sweetheart?”

You’re fucking right it is, you piece of shit, Daishou thinks viciously. The words themselves sit on the tip of his tongue, prideful and sharp, itching to be inflicted. Damn the consequences, he might’ve said it just to see the look on that bastard’s face – except Kuroo isn’t even looking his way. Isn’t paying him the slightest bit of attention, idly toying with a lock of your hair as if you aren’t clutching at him, eyes betraying your panic like a deer in headlights, and Daishou feels sick all over again. 

What the fuck is wrong with him?

“N-no, of course not!”

“No?” Kuroo’s brow arches upwards. “You sure ‘bout that?”

There’s no answer you can give that’ll convince him, yet silence proves equally damning. You seem to realise as much, mouth opening and closing as you try and fail to conjure up the right words to diffuse the situation. Kuroo offers you no out, letting you dig your own grave with the shovel he’s given you, taking some kind of sick satisfaction in your distress. 

Unable to summon anything more than a choked squeak, you stretch upwards again, a delicate hand on his jaw, and kiss him. The action is desperate and clumsy, borne from panic over passion or affection. Kuroo accepts it eagerly all the same, one arm snaking around your waist to draw you closer – or rather, to keep you from slipping away ‘til he’s had his fill of your lips. “I love you,” you murmur against him. “Only you.”

Though they’re shaky, the words stand stronger than those that came before. 

His nose nudges against your own, a look of contentment gracing his features. “Not yet, but we’ll get you there. On your knees, pretty girl.”

Your face crumples in dismay, lips parting only to fall shut with an audible click. As Kuroo’s grip on you loosens, you obediently slide off the bed and onto your knees.

“Arms up.”

Trembling like a leaf and looking faintly ill, you obey, letting him tug your shirt – his shirt, from the looks of it – up and over your head, carelessly tossing it aside. And though you flinch, biting down on your bottom lip, eyes glossy, burning with shame and humiliation, you don’t make a move to cover yourself.

You must know better.

His blood roars, heart thundering violently against his ribs. There’s no pretending he doesn’t see the love bites and bruises spanning your chest, nor the smug, triumphant look in that fucker’s eyes when he notices Daishou looking, his body tensed, shaking with barely contained fury. 

Kuroo strokes your cheek, “Keep your eyes on me. Just you ‘n me, yeah?”

You nod. Without prompting you reach for his belt, the clinking of metal and the hiss of Kuroo’s zipper rattling in his skull, the deep, husky groan that slips from his lips when your fingers slide into his pants and curl around his cock, pulling it out.

“Good girl,” he purrs.

Daishou doesn’t want to watch you kiss a trail from Kuroo’s navel down to his cock. He doesn’t want to see the way your thumb swirls along the head of his dick, smearing his pre only for your tongue to follow its path, lapping it right up.

He doesn’t wanna watch you lick your lips, lean in and suck Kuroo’s cock like a well trained slut while he palms at your tits, but between the rage and disgust and the nausea crawling up the back of his throat, Daishou’s frozen in place.

Guided by the not-so-gentle grip he has on the back of your hair, you take more of him into your mouth with every bob of your head, your other hand diligently working away at what doesn’t fit. He allows it for a minute or two, watching you try your best to take all of him with a hiss of pleasure.

Eventually, though, greed wins out. Kuroo’s hips cant forward, bucking past your lips to force his cock deeper, grazing the back of your throat. Eyes widening, you make a surprised noise and try to pull back, allow yourself a little breathing room to set a pace you're comfortable with, but Kuroo’s having none of it. He growls once in warning, grip tightening around your hair, holding you in place, and begins to fuck your face in earnest.

“That’s my good – little – whore,” he grunts, each word punched out with another cruel thrust of his hips. 

The sounds of you gagging on the dick in your mouth, your choked little whines and whimpers burn through Daishou like wildfire, igniting something deep. A faint stirring in his gut he wishes, more than anything, he could smother entirely. 

He doesn’t look away. 

It’s only when the lack of oxygen becomes too much and you claw at Kuroo’s thighs, tears streaming down your face that he finally relents, letting you pop off his dick with a heaving gasp. With nothing else to tether you, you collapse against his legs, boneless and panting, your eyes fluttering shut. 

They crack open, however, looking up when his hand comes to a rest on the crown of your head, “Say it again. I want to hear it.” 

The demand takes a moment to process, but you swallow and tell him what he wants to hear. “I love you, Tetsu. More than anyone.”

He grins, lazily stroking your hair, “I know, sweetheart. Now c’mon, up on the bed. I’ve been been dreaming of your perfect little pussy all day, wanna fuck you properly.”

—

Hours pass. Half a day, a day. Maybe longer. There’s no light down here, no windows to track the path of the sun, the shadows creeping across the floor, but he can feel the endless drag of seconds and minutes ticking like a slow suffocation. 

After fucking you to the edge of exhaustion, Kuroo had carried you out, cradled to his chest like something precious, and left him alone in the dark. 

Left Daishou to scream and rage and cry like a fucking baby. It doesn’t help any. His bones and muscles ache, the skin of his wrist rubbed raw trying to move to a position that doesn’t scream with discomfort, the cold, unforgiving floor beneath him offering no relief. Mere feet away lies the bed Kuroo fucked you on, with its pillows and blankets, soft, plush mattress.

With his eyes adjusting to the complete lack of light, Daishou can only make out a vague shape in the darkness. In some kind of fucked up way, he decides it’s a blessing in disguise.

Being able to see the bed’s another cruelty, the promise of comfort and warmth when he’s shivering and cold and lying in his own filth, placed just out of reach. And while the thought of lying in the sheets he’d fucked you in (raped you in, a voice reminds him) makes his stomach turn, he’s not so sure that given the chance, he wouldn’t shove those thoughts aside for a soft reprieve and a few hours of rest.

Some messed up part of him wonders if the pillows and sheets still smell like you.

So no, it’s a good thing he can’t really see the bed, or the door, or much of anything, really.

Besides, it isn’t the hunger pangs or the lack of sleep or the dull, throbbing pain from his joints that bother him the most, it’s the feeling of inhaling razor blades doused in fire he’s subjected to with every shallow, rattling breath. The last taste of water he’d had… would’ve been before the bar, however long ago that was. Too long. More than a warm bed, more than food or freedom from the cuff around his wrist, Daishou thinks he’d just about kill for a single sip of water to wet his throat. 

More than likely, that’s the whole fucking point. 

Left to rot in the darkness, Daishou has plenty of time on his hands to think, musing over the bed in this little windowless room, and the other door he suspects must lead to a bathroom. That asshole went to some effort in getting him here, he’ll admit, but he doubts all this was solely for his benefit.

You were here when he came to; obviously he’d kept you down here, the question was for how long? Did he keep you chained up and hungry in the dark when you wouldn’t play nice? The way you’d melted for him, the affection, the goddamn look in your eyes when you’d said that bastard’s fucking name–

The fear that’d shone there when you’d said his. 

Daishou knows from the depths of whatever’s left of him, that he could never, ever hate you. If he starves to death alone down here, if you’re the one to plunge a dagger into his heart yourself, if you forget all about him and buy into the delusional fucking nightmare that psychotic prick keeps peddling, he’d love you. That much is immutable.

But hatred’s too soft a word for the thorn riddled vines that sprout and twist inside of him, ripping away at muscle and flesh, choking his organs, his veins, everything that he is – because of Kuroo. 

When he hears those footsteps again, the clicking of the altogether unnecessary locks, Daishou can’t help the wide grin that cracks at his face. “Was wonderin’ when you’d come back down to gloat,” he croaks, manages a laugh too, though it feels like dragging his vocal cords over sandpaper.

Having flicked the light switch on (half blinding Daishou in the process) Kuroo fixes him with a sardonic smirk. “Missing me already?”

“Hate waiting around.”

“Ah well, what can I say? I had better things to do.” His smirk broadens, a cruel glint under too bright fluorescent light as he plops himself down on the bed Daishou’s been doing his utmost to ignore and stretches out, rolling his shoulder and neck. “Prettier things.”

A stab of something dark and ugly wrenches between his ribs. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he spits through cracked, dry lips, and before he can think better of it, adds, “Mommy didn’t love you enough, Kuroo? That what this is?”

Kuroo doesn’t snap the way he expects him to. He doesn’t lash out like he would’ve when they were hot headed teenagers desperate to grind the other into the dirt and lord it over them. The muscle in his jaw jumps and his eyes narrow, sharpen – but his expression is quick to smooth over. Water off a duck’s back. He lets out an amused snort, rising from the bed. 

“Y’know, as entertaining as it was watching you self-destruct, losing your volleyball career, your fans, friends, all those nights you spent searching for her at the bottom of a bottle – and it was entertaining, believe me – I think I like this better.” 

A short, sharp burst of pain. Warm copper spills over his tongue. 

“You’re not gonna survive this. Even you’re smart enough to have realised that much.” He crouches down low, at eye-level, just out of reach, appraising him with a tilted head – as though Daishou’s some whimpering puppy at the pound. 

Daishou’s not a fucking puppy. 

“Most likely it’ll be the dehydration that kills you first,” Kuroo continues. “That only takes a few days, but with water, you could probably make it two, three weeks before your body starves itself to death – plenty of time for your muscles to begin to atrophy, which’ll be painful as hell, not to mention how bad the isolation’s gonna fuck you up. And who knows, maybe I’ll be nice and bring you something to drink every now and then, throw you some scraps from dinner. I might even let you out of those cuffs for an hour or two, so you can walk around down here, stretch those legs of yours before they completely shrivel up… But you won’t see her again, ever.”

Scowling and hateful, Daishou spits at Kuroo and bares bloody teeth. 

Kuroo wants to treat him like a dog, fine – but wolves gnaw through flesh and bone to free themselves from hunting traps, and he ain’t about to just keel over with a whimper and make this easy for him.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Tension crackles through the air like an oncoming storm. 

Daishou falls back against the radiator, breathing heavy and Kuroo wipes at his cheek with the pad of his thumb and huffs out a dry laugh, eyeing the bloody digit. Looking back at Daishou, he stands. “You look thirsty, I’ll go get you some water. Can’t have you croaking on us just yet.”

He’ll bite his fucking throat out if he has to. 

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo tetsurous x reader #yandere kuroo tetsurou #tw: dubcon

[basu-shokikita]

My headcanons about early Dethklok forming

Nathan, despite having a relatively normal upbringing, rejected ordinariness and uniformity. He didn't want to be like everyone else, he didn't want to be like his parents, even though he loved them very much. He wanted to stand out, to do something with all the brutality he had inside. Not a fucking job or an ordinary girlfriend to have children with, he'd die before being part of that. It was around this frustrating time of his life that he discovered metal and something changed inside him. He had finally found his true calling. He would form the greatest band in the world.

He started going to a bunch shows, to scout for musicians. His priority was the guitar because the chemistry between the singer and guitarist was quintessential to the band. If he didn't have a good guitarist, then he had nothing. Nathan was at some mediocre band's show when he got blindsided by Skwisgaar's talent. Right as the show ended, he went backstage and told Skwisgaar he wanted to him in his band, completely ignoring the outraged reactions of the rest of the band. Skwisgaar asked if he had other people in this so-called band and Nathan said no. Utterly fascinated by Nathan's determination, Skwisgaar decided to take a gamble. He dropped his current band then and there to follow the man.

After abandoning Snakes n' Barrels, Pickles (like his note indicated) wanted heavier music. So, rather than being hunted by Nathan, Pickles was the one searching for bands to join. But not famous bands, not already established bands, he had already been there. This time, he wanted to join a band from the scratch. A band that was only starting and he could grow with in real time. While going from city to city to find raw, new talent, he saw an ad on the streets and thought Dethklok sounded promising. He was very amused when he walked into some shitty garage and saw Nathan and Skwisgaar standing there like some lost teenagers. When he listened to them play together, though, he knew it. This band was going to make it and he wanted to be there for it.

Now that Dethklok had a guitarist and a drummer, they needed a bassist. Skwisgaar said they could get anyone because you can't hear bass anyway but Nathan disagreed, he wanted to find the perfect bassist for his band. The night before opening auditions, they went to a bar and saw some guy getting into a fight with some pretty tough dudes. At first, they were in awe of this guy's brutality but as the confrontation kept going, they realized he was actually a fucking coward. They were excited to see him get his ass kicked until, when the guy kept shit-talking even though he was about to get destroyed, Nathan realized. Dethklok needed a pathetic and obnoxious quota to achieve ultimate brutality. Not only did they save Murderface but they also got him to join the band before even listening to him play.

Magnus appeared last and introduced himself as this hotshot that knew everything about the industry. They were young and naive and allowed himself to be lead by this so-called pro, though Nathan was always skeptical of Magnus sweet talking. At first, it was nice: he introduced them to people, he knew how to party hard and presented himself as some kind of role model for them, encouraging them to look up to him. As time went by, however, it became increasingly evident that Magnus had never really made it big and was bitter that his time was running out. He grew bossier and meaner because they weren't growing as fast as he expected. By the time Nathan kicks him out of the band, he had already been considering the option and Magnus' outburst just helped him do the final call. Nobody opposed.

Bonus: Charles was one of the people Magnus introduced Dethklok to. However, he saw their true potential unlike Magnus and stayed after he left. If anything, he was glad to be able to manage the band without as many obstructions now (Magnus was pretty difficult to deal with).

#metalocalypse #dethklok #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #skwisgaar skwigelf #william murderface #magnus hammersmith #charles foster offdensen #basu post #my headcanons #i was so high when i wrote all this god damn

[asukaskerian]

omg #2 from the arranged marriage prompts but with grimmichihime, where ichigo and orihime are already in a relationship and maybe even engaged but a war with hueco mundo/aizen faction leads to an arranged marriage deal where orihime is sworn to grimmjow in the hopes of ending the war... the drama of it all

2. Royalty AU - To end a war IT'S 2K LOOOONG sobs. also do not ask me about the worldbuilding i don't want to think about it because i WILL try to figure it out andm qvbv bqjhrvb f. yes. that.

anyway.

--

"You ain't supposed to be here, princess."

The girl's lower lip quivered; her brows scrunched down. A child's attempt to appear fierce. Grimmjow snorted, leaning his hip on the fancy chest of drawers he'd been saddled with for this farce. Embroidered shit from Hueco Mundo and local kimono bundled side by side, a present he hoped to never use again.

"I know. I thought--"

"You thought you'd see me without a chaperone and make double sure we got hitched?"

The twisted tangle of her hands came apart into fists. "No!"

Hooo. Grimmjow tilted his head, regarding her. She had a baby face; he'd have thought her sixteen instead of twenty had he not read the reports. Her hands clenched in her high-waisted, pleated skirt and he couldn't help but notice that it had been rigged so the hem was higher, easier to move in; underneath were dress uniform pants and laced-up ankle boots. Probably how she'd managed to climb his balcony -- but for a princess she sure wore some foreign style underthings.

"No?"

"No," she repeated, anguished, and then breathed in and out to steady herself, eyes closed. "That isn't why. I just -- there hasn't been a moment to talk to you directly, and I think -- you probably don't know. About me."

"Ah. Last-ditch attempt to have me break it off."

"I'm not actually a princess, you know."

She lifted her chin like she expected shock, anger. Grimmjow laughed. "Oh yeah?"

"I'm not!"

"You got the mark of the Soul King. Right? One of his fancy powers."

"Yes, but -- Grimmjow-san, that's not. I'm a commoner, I-- I was legitimised last year. We don't even know what branch I come from for sure." She met his eyes, sad but resolute. "My mother was a prostitute. This marriage alliance -- it's an insult."

... Haa. He reclined against the wall, arms crossed loosely, watching her. Trying to be brave, to be honest and good. She was gonna be devoured alive.

"I'm only a duke as a way to keep my rebellion in check."

"--Ah?"

He snorted. "Don't even got a single drop of blood in common with Aizen, but I had enough support that he needed a way to break my power base in two and put a leash on me. So now the anti-royalty have ditched me and the rest have been fuckin' appeased by thinking I have a chance at the throne whenever he kicks it, but he won't. Guy's fully intending to become immortal somehow."

His voice had gone bitter by the end. He swallowed it; pointless to show too much emotion to someone so ill-suited to court. She would never keep the secret tight enough.

He was gonna have to carry her back home to the royal palace and be saddled with keeping her in one piece, though. Another weight chained to his ankle, disguised as an attempt to make him more palatable, give him more appeal to the cowards of the capital.

"So he knows..." she whispered, a slow horror rising as she started to understand the implications. "He won't break it off."

"Nah. Gonna wait until we're married and then make a fuss about suddenly discovering it to gain an advantage against your country, probably." Or take Grimmjow down a peg by starting rumors at court. Or both. Aizen was nothing if not efficient.

His fiancée (how fucking alien a word, related to him) pressed both hands against her face and muttered to herself for a bit. Grimmjow left her at it. He probably had letters to read--

"I'll run away," she blurted out. 

Grimmjow gave her a nonplussed look. "What the fuck. Who do you think is gonna hunt you down then?"

"You won't find me."

He pushed away from his perch, took a few slow, gliding steps toward the girl. She didn't step back, chin up, feet set, like a glowing ball of bunion-healing power was gonna keep her safe from him.

... She really thought he wouldn't find her, too.

Grimmjow had never lost a quarry and the whole continent knew it. She didn't seem that stupid.

"I thought you wanted to stay home, but that's not even it, huh," he mused, voice low, looming to see how much pressure she could take. "What's your reason? Can't be your previous fiancé."

Shocked indrawn breath. "You knew about him?"

"Sure. Had to know if you were gonna pop out a really premature baby, didn't I."

The girl flushed, said nothing. He didn't even get the impression that this was why she was so desperate to stay home -- that she had celebrated her previous engagement too early. 

"But you can't marry him and live in his back garden, now can you," he kept going, testing, searching. "The fuck are you thinking? Think some bland civilian schmuck would give you a nice little life hidden away in the attic?"

The way her eyelids twitched on certain words needed to be trained out of her at some point.

Her guy, she believed wholeheartedly, could and would hide her -- had the ability, or had the connections; had the determination. Her guy would take the risk of putting the Four Noble Houses on his ass... 

Because they were already riding it anyway.

Grimmjow barked out a laugh. She stared at his widening grin, and her hair pins pulsed with glowing gold, like now she was properly wary of him -- of a man from an enemy country who outweighed and out-reached her and of whom everybody would say he had a right to do to her whatever the fuck he wanted.

A pretty girl like her had to know his kind of man was dangerous, and yet she was only afraid now.

"You guys are in the rebellion."

He was only barely surprised when the window swung open and a man in battered samurai armor plunged sword-first at him.

He was slightly more surprised when the rejected beau -- some nobody from the cadet branch of a fallen noble house, from the reports -- managed a slash and a swipe at a surprise angle that clanged hard against Grimmjow's not-so-decorative vambrace.

Nice.

Grimmjow drew his blade, and while the man was distracted eyeing it, kicked him solidly in the guts, folding him in two. No armor but two pauldrons to get in his way; the room was large enough to maneuver. He rolled low, swiped his feet out from under him as the guy wobbled back up, lunged -- 

Got kicked off in a way that sent him crashing through a folding screen. The wood splintered noisy like a gunshot. He rolled to the side, behind the low table, kicked it upright to break the guy's charge and then shouldered it straight onto him. Ahh, noisy, so noisy, Aizen was going to be so pissed off. Grimmjow couldn't stop grinning.

Their swords rang against each other, sliding until they locked at the guard. Grimmjow leaned in to smile. The guy had the same kind of forthright, justice-blind eyes as the girl. Well-matched pair of idiots. He hated it.

He shoved forwards with his superior weight, feinted left, right, punched. Was a little appreciative whent his fist was almost blocked, parried enough to lessen the impact.

But the guy's sword was longer than his, so now that Grimmjow was under his guard he was fucked. He aimed the point of his sword--

Golden god-light, impassable. Jarring his arm to the shoulder. He tried to go around the side and it only grew to cut him off again, and then suddenly it was blooming out like a sail catching wind and shoving him back.

His fiancée stepped forward, hands joined at the fingertips before her chest. "Don't fight!"

Ah. Not just a small healing ability, then. The powers inherited straight from the Soul King seemed to be very random when all put next to each other, but also... people usually didn't get more than one. Interesting. Did Aizen know? Was he trying to sneak her out from under the Seireitei's nose? Or had she managed to hide it even from him? Grimmjow pressed a hand to the barrier and while it didn't hurt him, it also didn't yield at all.

"No fighting! Sh-- Kurosaki-kun, we know things about him too. He won't -- he won't sell us out. Right?"

He watched her give soft entreating looks to her old boyfriend, the boyfriend slowly shift to stand before her. "I guess" was the first thing Grimmjow heard in his voice, quiet and roughened by doubt and effort.

"Don't know why you're pretending not to be a Shiba when you could be the clan head's ginger body double."

"Well see, usually when I'm committing treason I wear a mask," Kurosaki-Shiba replied dryly, and discreetly eyed the room for an escape route. 

Grimmjow had turned them around, though; he stepped right in the middle of the wide open window, opening his arms, and crooked his fingers invitingly.

"I... don't suppose you're planning to let us pass through."

"You can come right into my arms, sweetheart." He turned his wrist so the edge of his sword would catch the lamplight. 

The next look was toward the door, but the noise they'd made had not been subtle. The corridor was filling up with hotel employees and guards from Grimmjow's country -- who knew better than to barge in without his say-so, but weren't going to disperse without having put eyes on him either.

Shiba's sword stayed up for long seconds of narrow-eyed wary thought before the point flagged down. "Fine. What the fuck do you want."

What did he want... Hm. Shiba had good fighting instincts. Could be better, though, sharper. The princess was a little sneakier and a lot more powerful than she seemed. Their righteous fervor was gonna grate on him something awful very soon...

Aizen had a leash on him, but the only real leash on them would be through Grimmjow, and they didn't like him enough to stay their hands out of fear for his safety.

He dropped his sword, tossing it onto an abandoned sitting pillow. Baffled, the lovebirds stared at him with dumbly blinking eyes.

Grimmjow smiled, slow and languorous, as he undid his waistcoat and tugged loose his shirt laces, letting the cloth slide open over his chest. 

A twitch, a yelp, two blushes. 

Cackling, Grimmjow tackled them both around the waist and let his momentum carry the three of them right into his bed.

"Whoa whoa what the fuck?!" "Iyaa, wait, wait--" "What are you--"

The mattress bounced under their combined weights. Cackling, Grimmjow sat up, straddling them both, and wasn't shy about digging in his knees. "Welp, looks like we're all compromised now. Gonna have to marry you both."

The shriek that came out of Shiba was higher than even the princess' voice could reach. He seemed to have switched from trying to punch Grimmjow's nose in to pressing both hands to his chest to keep him away, as if Grimmjow was even seriously trying to lean close. Virgin bottom behavior. Even the girl was still earnestly trying to knee his balls back inside his body.

"Ahh, shut up, I'll scratch your backs if you scratch mine. Yeah? We can all benefit from this."

And he threw an abandoned book at the door, making it clank obviously enough that the guards would decide it was sufficiently like a knock and check in on him. 

As the door creaked open, he decided to indulge his captives' panicked squeakings -- had to start things off on the right foot if he didn't want to have to deal with too many knives in his household, after all. Princess was yammering about how he couldn't marry Kurosaki-kun who wasn't a maiden at all and boys couldn't marry boys and anyway she didn't want him to be a concubine but you couldn't have two main wives-- 

"Ah, don't worry, in my country you can marry whoever the fuck you want." Behind the bed the room was filling up with rubbernecking guards, come in to stop an assassination attempt and discovering a tryst instead. Ignoring them utterly, he grinned into her wide, wide eyes, her scarlet face. "It's gonna piss everyone off, I can't wait."

#grimmichihime #Asuka writes #bleach #writing meme

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you come home tipsy and jungkook is upset.

> fluff, angst / wc: 3k

> warnings: well we have alcohol of course

note: we already got happy drunk, now let’s get to the sad drunk :P

this is like a prologue to this drabble ^^

—

you stumble into your doorstep with a shaky vision and exhausted knees, slotting your key into the doorknob only to realize that the door is already open.

“i’m sure i locked it though?” you mutter to yourself quietly, shaking your head in a frail attempt to refresh your memories from two hours ago. but the two bottles of peach soju you drank and the bitter tears you shed have clouded all of your senses, and no images prior from before appear in your mind.

you just decide to brush it off, entering your apartment and making sure to double lock the door this time around. you take off your shoes and leave it on the doormat, too tired and tipsy to place it back on the shoe rack.

you enter the living room to see the last person you would’ve expected to come this late at night, and you tumble backwards in surprise.

“god, baby, where the fuck have you been?” jungkook exclaims in distress, quickly rushing over to you from the couch.

“why are you here?” you ask, dumbfounded as he pulls you in for a bone crushing hug. your arms remain on your sides, too lost and dazed to do anything but to stay rooted at your spot on the wooden floor.

“you haven’t answered any of my texts and calls for the past day. and your location was turned off. i was worried sick. what was i supposed to do?!” he answers frustratedly, running his fingers through his messy hair. you look up at him to observe his face- dull doe eyes, knitted eyebrows, lips forming a frown.

you feel your heart being squeezed inside your ribcage.

“you’re still mad at me.” you form your conclusion. the alcohol in your system leaves you more vulnerable, and your lips quiver as hot tears start to pour from your eyes for the third time tonight.

his face softens at the sight of your tear-stained face. you don’t need to tell him that you drank alcohol either. he can even smell it, especially from the front of your shirt where drops of it spilled from the careless shots you poured down your throat.

“come here.” he beckons you calmly, guiding you to the spot he previously occupied on the couch. you follow him idly.

he sits next to you and brings out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe away your tears, but his tenderness only fuels the urge to cry harder.

“why did you drink? baby, it’s past 2am now.” he sighs deeply, scooting closer to leave no space between the two of you. god knows the past day away from you has been torturous enough. “it’s dangerous out on the streets. something bad could’ve happened and i wouldn’t have been there to protect you.”

“i made you more upset now, didn’t i? i’m sorry.” your forehead drops on his shoulder, delicate hands grasping at the material of his oversized shirt.

“i’m sorry.” you repeat yourself to express the severity of your regrets. “i’m a coward. all i do is run away from things i’m afraid of. i’m sorry.”

he feels your tears soak through the cloth covering his torso, but he doesn’t mind it one bit. what bothers him most, however, is you apologizing to him profusely. he has realized how big of an asshole he has been, and now he feels like utter shit for putting you through this.

you recently got into argument about meeting jungkook’s parents. you’ve been avoiding it for the past months, and he has finally caught on and confronted you about it. sensing your transparent hesitation made him feel as though you aren’t as serious in committing in this relationship like you claimed to be- made him feel like a fool for being the only one willing to take the steps necessary in bringing the relationship to a new level. in the end, he questioned your feelings for him and in turn, he got ridiculously defensive.

holding your weeping vessel, it dawns on him how he has failed to look at the circumstances from your point-of-view. he has been self-centered and selfish, inconsiderate of your feelings. he kept on demanding and demanding, and he got upset like a spoiled little brat when he didn’t get what he wanted right away.

of course, you’re afraid. of course, you are. what a useless boyfriend he has been for not noticing right off the bat.

you pull away to look at him with pleading eyes, sniffling as you do so. and his heart breaks at the sight; seeing you cry because of him makes him want to beat himself up.

“i love you. i do, i really do. you know that right? it’s just that- i’m scared that they won’t like me. i’m not good with parents.” you babble aimlessly, grasping at the chance to speak out your mind as if it may slip away at any given second. “i had to grow up on my own and i-i don’t know what’s it like. i don’t know anything. i don’t know what to do. i’m just so scared of disappointing you, but it looks like i already did becau-”

“stop, stop. baby, shhh, that’s enough.” he hushes you, manhandling your figure onto his lap to calm you down.

he cocoons you into a tight embrace, rubbing your back comfortingly as he whispers, “shh, i love you too. i’m not upset anymore, okay? i understand now. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i should’ve let you talk the other day instead of storming out. i was too childish and immature.”

“what i’m trying to say is,” you shake your head repeatedly. “i don’t think i’m a person i could be proud of infront of your parents. you’re too good for me.”

you finally voice out the thought that has been feeding off your fears, baring your innermost self to your boyfriend.

you feel ashamed to say the least. you’re a hundred percent sure his parents are lovely. he tells you heartwarming stories about them all the time, and he casually mentions them during the most random moments. an example is when he teaches you how to do something, and he always goes my mom told me . . . or my dad used to do it like this . . . and even only through those unconscious utterances, you learn the immeasurable amount of adoration that fills up the space in his heart.

they raised him well, gave him nothing but love and trust and respect. and it evidently shows in jungkook’s each stride, the confidence he got from being supported by his parents in his decision to fly away from the nest and to pursue his passions. in his playful smiles, the unadulterated joy he carried from his childhood up to adulthood. in his polite bows, the good values and virtues he either learned or unconsciously picked up.

you came to realize the one thing that you have in common with his parents: the three of you only want the best for jungkook. that’s what makes it terrifying.

you feel . . . what’s the word?

inadequate.

so what do you do? you run. you nod and smile when he brings up meeting them soon. you pretend you’re busy when he tries setting up the date. and as embarrassing as it sounds, you silently pray that he just forgets about all about it.

he tilts up your chin with two fingers to look at your eyes, and you see that his frown is deeper from before. “i should say this more often, but i’m so proud of you. that’s why i always talk about you with my family and friends. but it just doesn’t feel enough sometimes, you know? because i can’t properly put into words how amazing you are.”

his thumbs brush away the tears on your cheeks before pressing kisses on your face, his plush lips puckering up to shower you with affection.

his warm breath ghosts over your skin, and you smell the familiar scent of mint he puts in his mouth when driving. “you won’t disappoint me. or anyone. never. most of the time you’re too busy making up for the things you think you’re lacking in, that you forget to take a step back for a minute to look at what you’ve accomplished so far.”

“my baby, i wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” he looks at you lovingly, the sparkle of his doe eyes making an appearance for the first time tonight. the beautiful sight, along with his consoling words, make you want to burst into tears once again. “you say you grew up on your own as if you turned out to be a bad person, but you grew up so well. you’re the kindest and strongest person i’ve ever known.”

“you’ve been walking on a road that you pave as you go. you must be having a hard time, aren’t you?” he offers you a fond smile, caressing your head gently with his tattooed hand.

more of your tears spill down as you nod your head, leaning further into his soothing touches. god knows how much you’ve been craving to hear these words from someone, anyone- just to be seen and acknowledged, to feel less lonely and meaningless.

“but you don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders anymore. you have me now, hmm? i’m right by your side. and my family welcomes you with open arms, too. they’re not going anywhere, so we can go meet them when you’re ready, okay?”

true enough, jungkook’s words are magic.

you feel significantly lighter after hearing his unsparing comfort, in contrast to the last time he spoke to you. you haven’t been able to sleep— the moving image of a distraught jungkook asking if you truly want him in your life the way that he wants you in his, then him slamming the door shut when you couldn’t answer right away- it haunted you every time you closed your eyes.

you haven’t charged your phone because you wanted some space to think, and you drank alcohol because you couldn’t sleep from the thinking.

being in jungkook’s arms, the worries clouding your head are shooed away by him, and the drowsiness finally takes over as the veil you’ve been desperately waiting for.

you manage to offer him a half-smile through your hazy state.

“i love you so much. you know that, right?”

he catches on to the uneasiness in your voice, and he jumps in to clear up the uncertainty he has caused. “i know, and i love you, too. i’m sorry for everything that i did. i was just being greedy. you always make me feel loved and cared for, so please, please, don’t think that you’re not doing enough. if anything, you probably spoil me too much.”

another apology sits at the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it down. it’s best to just put this matter behind you in this note, so instead, you wrap your arms around jungkook’s neck to be the one to hug him this time.

you bask in the silence for a while. you can only hear the occasional zooming of vehicles taking advantage of the almost deserted highway, his rhythmic breathing, and your sniffles.

with a pounding headache intensifying in your temples, you almost fall asleep then and there, but then you wake up when he starts bouncing his legs up and down. “don’t fall asleep on me yet. let’s get you hydrated before going to bed.”

a whine bubbles in your throat at the sudden movements, weakly clinging to him as he carries you to the kitchen. he leaves you on the counter top to grab a bottle of water from your small fridge.

“where did you drink soju?” he asks as you drink big gulps of water. he has a hand on his waist and the other is anchored on the edge of the counter top beside you.

you briefly detach the bottle from your lips. “at the convenience store. you think i’d go to the bar in pajamas?”

he shrugs with a chuckle, shaking his head. “who knows? you’re more spontaneous than you realize.”

and then he turns serious to bring up the reason why he asked. “don’t go outside alone past 11pm from now on, please? whatever happens, call me or one of your friends so i’m sure you’re safe. especially if you’re going to drink. i was really worried out of my mind earlier.”

you nod your head obediently, swinging your legs back and forth. “okay, i promise. i won’t make you cry again.”

he huffs, taking a step forward to pull you in for another embrace. “i almost did cry. i thought something bad happened to you. i had to call your friends, too. they said you probably went out to buy alcohol. they just ended up scaring me more instead of helping.”

damn, being apart from you for more than a day because of an argument made him realize how clingy he truly is.

“they know me too well.” the freshly learned information makes you giggle. “i’m sorry, baby. i’ll just drink with them next time so i’m not alone. i promise.”

he grunts in disagreement, pulling away for you to see his lips forming a pout. “there is no next time. i won’t let us have another argument like this. it’s unbearable.”

oh, jungkook, your sweetest boy.

“that would be nice.” you respond with a soft voice.

he kisses your cheek before tapping your thigh lightly, urging you to move. “let’s go brush your teeth then so we can sleep.���

your face visibly lights up like a christmas tree. “you’re staying?”

he rolls his eyes as if you just asked him what one plus one is. “of course i am. i never want to be away from you again.”

“yay!” you rejoice, but your voice comes out small. unfortunately, your throat has been having a hard time with all the alcohol and the crying.

you hop off the counter only to end up almost falling on your ass, your knees being too weak and unstable to keep you steady on your feet. giving credits to jungkook’s incredible reflex, he catches you faster than you can blink.

“oopsie.”

“shit- baby! be careful.” he hisses, adjusting his hold on you.

he ends up carrying you to the bathroom, and you brush your teeth together.

fun fact: jungkook has already changed the toothbrush he uses at your houses three times.

once you’re both finished, you climb on his back for your transport to the bedroom.

“jungkook? you’re a tree.” you state out of the blue, leaning your cheek against his as he walks outside of the bathroom.

“a tree? why?” he asks curiously.

“you’re very fun to climb.”

the sound of his laughter echoes through your apartment. his body shakes as a result, and you hold onto him for your dear life.

“you’re extra honest when drunk, huh?”

“nuh-uh.” you tut. “not drunk, just tipsy. i’m worse when i’m drunk for real.”

“oh really?”

he carefully bends down by the edge of the bed to let you get off his back, and you automatically crawl to your soft pillows. a yawn escapes you when your head sinks into them, and loyal to your habits, you cover your mouth as you let it pass.

“babe, wait- let’s change your shirt first.”

you groan, forcing yourself to sit up on the bed. jungkook holds the bottom of your shirt, and you raise your arms as he takes it off. he helps you put on the new one, bunching up the sleeves so it’s easier for your arms to slip through the armholes. you drop back into your previous position on the pillows right after.

jungkook lays next to you after turning off the lights and taking off his clothes except for his boxers. without needing to say the word, you both move to allow your head rest on his tattooed arm instead. his natural body warmth coaxes your tense muscles to relax, and you slip deeper into sheer contentment as you put an arm over his stomach.

“goodnight, baby.” he whispers sweetly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

a lazy smile spreads on his lips when he doesn’t receive a response. you fell asleep as soon as you settled into your usual sleeping position with him, and he feels a lone tear from your drowsiness drip on his chest.

he bends down and cups your cheek in his hand, softly pressing his lips against yours. he just lets them touch for a few seconds, before he spontenously decides to pucker up his without pulling away, giving you a hundred (almost) loud kisses in a row.

he backs away to observe you again, but you remain asleep even after he has poured all his love on you. he chuckles in amusement, restless fingers tracing your features until they reach your puffy eyes.

sadness blossoms in his chest when he is reminded once again that he is the reason why you are so tired. he swallows thickly, promising both you and him that he will make it up to you starting the second that he wakes up in the morning- from making you a delicious breakfast in bed to doing whatever it is that you want to do.

hell, if you suddenly ask for a vacation in antartica, he would book the flights in a heartbeat.

his doe eyes comically wander to his phone laying on the nightstand. “fuck, should i?”

—

taglist! @lolalee24 @alanniys @jjkeverlast @queenofdragonsandcats @yvesismywife @enhypenslay @cramseys @witchfqllen @virgogentlejk @rkie @jeonwiixard @monilyv @bermudaisy @ameliejeannelaurent @takochelle @the1921-monsters @investedreader @seagulljk @yeow6n @yoonqkiss @hopeworldjimin + send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts reaction #bts fluff #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts smut

[weemsfreak]

Miranda Hilmarson x NamedfReader

Presenting my first ever piece for Miranda Hilmarson!

Follows Top of the Lake China Girl, Miranda survives. ~3.8k words

➤ Inspiration for this story No Children - The Mountain Goats

Part 1 of 2

Warnings: cigarettes, alcohol, a few Top of the Lake spoliers, men slander, bullying

◇◆◇◆◇◆

Hateful.

That's what you were.

That's who you were.

But you hadn't always been like this.

At one point, you had awoken from slumber and greeted each day as if you could make the world yours.

At one point, you believed that there was some good, and that maybe you could help to make the good prevail.

But, that was a long time ago. And since then the world has thrown absolute shit at you time and time again.

You started to believe that even the good was not good,

and you eventually became bitter at the world.

You became hateful.

◇◆◇◆◇◆

Adrian left. Coward. You knew the man was weak. His office, now yours, hadn't a trace of him left, you made sure of it.

You had only spoke with him at occasional meetings back when you worked in Germany.

He seemed competent, but not very smart. You didn't know him all too well, but, he was a man.

And when this man left willingly, you moved to Sydney and took his job.

When he left, he left a woman, and a baby, you were told.

He packed up his family and left, you weren't sure why.

Everything you had heard about him and this woman sounded like a clusterfuck, honestly.

The woman was a constable who worked for you, now. But, you didn't know her yet, as Adrian had given her six months paid leave to look after her baby and recover.

Apparently she had gotten shot and almost died.

Under the guidance of Adrian.

Apparently she had a surrogate that ran, so Griffin found her baby and brought her home while the woman was in the hospital recovering.

Who did nothing to help? Adrian.

Apparently Adrian made sure that the baby would be looked after by the help of others.

He had a big heart, was a big softie, looked like one anyway; but you begged to differ.

Careless Adrian.

And then he left.

You hadn't met this woman yet, Constable Hilmarson, her name was, but you were sure when you did, she would be a mess.

◇◆◇◆◇◆

A tall woman in uniform entered your office and offered a hand for you to shake. You instantly knew who it was.

"Constable Hilmarson. A pleasure to meet you Detective Sergeant Schulze."

Your gaze directed to her slim hand before it moved up, and up, to her face. She was pale, blonde, void of makeup, and plain.

She was not what you had expected, yet exactly what you would expect at the same time.

She was boring and mundane, yet there was something about her that made her shine.

You understood why Adrian would, well whatever happened between him and this woman, but she was, at the same time, just so plain.

You assumed she would be a mess, you assumed she would be heartbroken, dragging her ass around in self pity.

But here she was, first day back at work, smiling wide down at you.

You had half a mind to ignore her gesture and tell her to sit, to wipe the smile off her face; alas, you had to be professional.

So you stood, noticing that you were rather short next to her, and took her hand in yours.

"Likewise."

◇◆◇◆◇◆

The months went by, as they do, and everything seemed to be going rather well. Griffin and Hilmarson worked on small cases, nothing too crazy had happened. The men were working well with each other, though they could be doing more. They always could be.

The only thing that you were having a hard time with was some paperwork that Adrian left for you.

This man was fucking disorganized, which made sense, considering how many other things he was obviously preoccupied with.

Maybe someone would know what he wrote here? What the hell was that supposed to say?

Shit.

You made your way out into the office, asking the men if they could read it. Of course they all attempted, until they quit.

"Griffin, can you make out Butler's writing?"

She took the paper from you and stared at it for a moment, "No, sorry." She paused, "Maybe Hilmarson can."

Your eyes flit to her empty desk, "Where is she?"

"Smoke break" Griffin replied.

 Rolling you reyes with a groan, you made your way outside.

"Hilmarson!"

When she heard her name and caught you moving fast towards her, her eyes widened and she threw her cigarette behind her.

"Sorry Sarg, I'll get back" she said, turning to walk past you hastily.

"No."

She stopped and stared down at you, her eyebrows furrowing.

You grumbled, "I don't care if you smoke, I need help with something."

She slowly moved closer to you and pulled out another smoke.

Hilmarson one hundred percent believed that you were annoyed with her, that was until she offered you a cigarette and you took it.

"Adrian's writing is messy as fuck." You pulled out the paper and passed it to her.

"What does this say?"

She scanned his writing, hate filling her heart at the thought of him.

"It says 'Stally and Carson reported to Bondi beach'."

You took the paper from her, squinting your eyes at the names. You never would've guessed that said 'Bondi'.

You gazed up at Hilmarson as she looked to her feet, seemingly lost in her own head.

Her cigarette burned itself out between her fingers, eyes failing to blink.

You hadn't failed to notice the amount of comments and 'jokes,' as the men called them, that were thrown her way. You were aware of the banter and harmless fun between coworkers, especially police, but you had heard a few things that were not within the confines of your definition of harmless jokes.

Miranda hated hearing of that beach, Bondi beach. She hadn't been to a beach in so long. So, so long.

She also hated hearing of Adrian. She hadn't seen him in so long.

Good.

She watched as you took a drag and squinted down at the paper in your hand.

She heard what they called you; a bitch, bitter, boring, hateful.

And although you were grumpy, grumbly, not very personal, didn't say thank you, and never smiled a real smile, she liked you.

Your emotion and intentions were usually direct, you didn't beat around the bush.

And for that reason she thought that maybe you liked her too.

You accomplished things, you didn't care what people thought of you.

You weren't scared to talk back, you weren't scared to stand up for what was right.

Actually, you didn't seem scared at all, of anything.

She wished she could be as careless as you, she wished she could stand up for herself.

Sometimes, she even wished she could be hateful.

◇◆◇◆◇◆

A call came in, letting you know that a suspicious box had been found at Bondi beach.

Interesting, you had just learned what that place was the other day.

Your eyes traveled to the window of your office, expecting to catch Griffin at her desk, before you remembered she was off today.

"Shit" you groaned.

Grabbing your things, you exited your office, deciding you would go yourself. If this turned into a case, you'd rather give it to her over the men.

"Hilmarson, you're coming with me to investigate."

She was up from her desk in a flash, grabbing her hat and following you to the door.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Bondi beach" you answered, reaching for the door.

She stopped dead in her tracks as a small gasp escaped her lips.

"I-um, I actually just remembered that I have to do something important this afternoon, I-I forgot."

You turned to find her staring down at her hands, fidgiting with long fingers.

"It can wait" you demanded.

"N-no it's really important, I'm sorry" she murmured.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked her up and down, you watched as she bit her lip, nervously standing her ground.

"Are you really disobeying my order constable?"

At this, her wide eyes met yours, but you could see something unusual in them.

Fear.

Some of the men were listening, letting out "ouuuu Hilmarson" when she refused your order.

"Quiet!" you barked.

Was she really refusing? Was she really going to make you take a man?

Fine.

You pointed to constable Brown, "You, you're with me."

◇◆◇◆◇◆

Looking out over the ocean and popping the top off of a beer bottle, you watched from a cliff as the night turned darker, the waves beginning to crash a bit harder.

As the night turned darker, it seemed, you also began to crash harder.

Today you read her file.

You read her file and then decided to drink away your sorrows.

You understood now why she wouldn't go to Bondi beach.

You understood now why you saw fear in her eyes.

See, there wasn't much that scared you anymore, but, there was one thing.

You were forever guilty, forever wounded, forever hateful for what had happened to her, your love.

It was a simple mistake, really, but it cost you your happiness, and her, her life.

She was tall and slim and strong.

She had the widest smile, one that made her cheeks puff out, adorable.

And she was brave.

It's almost like you could picture her, standing down there on the boardwalk, looking out over the never-ending expanse if water; just like you.

Together again, one last time.

Hell.

Hilmarson?

You blinked, placing your beer onto the rock and scooting closer to the edge.

If your brain wasn't playing tricks on you, which it very well could've been, she was stood on the walkway, hands tucked in her pockets, eyes squinting as she looked out over the water.

But it couldn't be her, it wouldn't be. She was too fearful.

You stood and sat further away, hoping she couldn't see you from her spot.

She did.

As you were admiring staring at her questioningly, she happened to look your way. A small smile lit up her face, then she turned and started running.

You watched as she ran down the walkway and up the path to the cliff.

You couldn't help but let smirk lightly at her clumsiness, why was she running?

"Hi" she murmured, climbing the rock to sit beside you.

You turned your gaze to the water and sipped your drink, "I thought you were avoiding the beach."

Hilmarson faced you and tilted her head in question, "Why would you think that?"

Placing your beer bottle into your bag, your eyes never left the ocean.

"I know why you refused my order."

You heard her take a deep breath in and exhale.

"Okay, please don't be pissed at me. I'm sorry about that. I can't- I can't go onto the beach, it makes me, um, nervous. I can look at it though, from far away."

You turned to her with a look that said 'seriously?'

She pouted, "It's different."

"I suppose" you deadpanned.

She looked to the ocean in contemplation as your gaze stayed focused on her.

She had soft alabaster skin, way softer than yours could ever be.

She had eyes that sparkled like the snow on the most blue winter day.

They showed fear, fear and sadness and betrayal.

And, she had your heart, the ability to melt it like fire.

The ability to dig herself into your flesh and pull out your insides, until you didn't know who you were any longer.

Until you were a shell of a person.

Until you were hateful.

She had the ability to do all of this, when she died.

You reached into your bag and pulled out two bottles of beer, passing one to her.

◇◆◇◆◇◆

Walking past the desks, you did a double take when you got to your office door.

Hilmarsons desk was an abomination, papers and random things scattered everywhere. You scoffed when you noticed multiple coffee mugs and spoons littering her desk, and you wondered if her home was the same.

Was that a carton of milk?

"Hilmarson, clean this shit up" you demanded, walking to her and scanning your eyes over the paperwork.

She looked up at you in surprise, then nodded her head in shame before stacking the papers sloppily into a pile, "Sorry sarg." You turned and headed back to your office, closing the door in attempt to get some work done.

However, after five minutes, you couldn't help but peer out your office window to find Hilmarson dropping the stack of papers onto the floor, scattering everywhere. You watched as she crouched down, picked them up, and attempted to stand, hitting her head on the underside of her desk.

You shook your head, standing and opening your office door. "Hilmarson, see me in my office."

She sheepishly entered, closing the door behind her.

"You are extremely careless and clumsy" you stated.

She smirked slightly before it disappeared.

"Is this one of those 'clean your shit up or I'll fire you' talks?"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what was she talking about?

"Have you had one of those talks before?"

She looked to the floor and nodded.

You sighed, "Well then why haven’t you cleaned your shit up yet?"

Her gaze travelled back to you with a proud expression, gesturing wildly with her hands.

"I'm doing better. I'm not as messy as I have been, and I haven't broken anything lately."

Just as she said this, she swung her arm dramatically over a shelf, knocking a small vase onto the floor.

You sighed and placed your head in your hand. "Hilmarson, just go."

She winced as a frown overtook her face, then she turned quickly, leaving pieces of vase on the floor.

You sat at your desk and asked yourself what Adrian saw in this woman. Were you missing something here? Did she posses something in which you had to learn to appreciate? Did he see it? Did he know how?

◇◆◇◆◇◆

Hilmarson was sat on Griffins desk, her phone in Griffins face as she smiled, eyes watery.

When Griffin saw you enter, she almost pushed Hilmarson off of the desk, telling her to get back to work.

You walked up to them as Hilmarson sat and plunked her phone onto her desk with a frown.

You raised a brow at her, "What's so amusing, Hilmarson?"

She looked up at you as her mouth opened in confusion, her brain running a mile a minute trying to differentiate sarcasm from serious.

A smile lit up her face again.

You watched Griffin shake her head out of the corner of your eye, and then a phone was in your face.

A picture of a baby dressed in pink. The baby, hair so light you questioned it had any, was crawling on the floor playing with an empty beer bottle.

You were no mother, but that probably wasn't safe.

She then swiped to the next photo and you found Hilmarsons signature smile staring back at you.

Your eyes flit between the photo and her, she smiled wide up at you with a glimmer in her ocean eyes.

You sighed, knowing that you usually wouldn't give a shit about a child, especially some baby photos.

The fact was, Hilmarson was slacking off, and you wanted to be a bitch about it.

You wanted to tell her to get back to work, you wanted to say 'get over it, it's just a child'; but for some reason you couldn't.

So you nodded, "She's definitely yours, Hilmarson."

Locking yourself in your office, you sat with your head in your hands. You didn't understand why she was so happy all the damn time.

A shitty job, a shitty town. Adrian had left her, after all.

But the more you thought, the more you realized that she must be grateful.

For she had her baby and she was alive. She was alive.

◇◆◇◆◇◆

You finally packed up your mornings work and headed to the break room, eager to eat your sandwich.

Nobody said a word as the men finished up their work and headed out for lunch, you were used to it.

Eagerly you reached the break room to find Hilmarson leaving with a bowl of cereal, letting the door close with a thud.

She nodded at you with a small grin.

As soon as the door to the room shut, you opened it.

Stally laughed, "Hilmarson as a mother!? What a joke."

"Yea, her and her one good egg" Carson replied.

Your eyes widened as you froze, hand gripping the door knob with fury.

You turned quickly, watching as Hilmarsons gaze spun your way, a frown instantly overtaking her face.

Her bright eyes became dull as the lines between her eyebrows and around her lips deepened.

It was saddest, most pathetic you had ever seen her.

"Stally, Carson, are you seriously insulting a fellow officer?"

The men turned to you, startled by your sudden presence.

"Schulze, it was- we were just joking" Carson stuttered.

You stared at them with the heat of a thousand suns.

"It's not a joke unless it's fucking funny" you seethed.

The men looked at each other, then back at you, they were screwed.

As soon as Stally opened his mouth to say something, you stopped him.

"My office, NOW!" you hollered, swinging the door open for them to exit.

As you followed the men to your office you kept your gaze to the floor.

You slammed your door shut and demanded they sit.

"If you think for a second I will tolerate slander, insults, shitty fucking jokes, or bullying of another officer…" you pointed to your door.

"Walk out that door now and never, ever, show your good for nothing faces here again."

You crossed your arms, standing your ground as you stared them down, their eyes on the floor in silence.

Stepping closer, you leaned down, your lips just above their ears.

"I don't know your stories, but I do know that if you had went through half of what Hilmarson has, you wouldn't be here right now. Would you?"

If they were going to act like children, you'd treat them as such.

"No Sargant" Stally mumbled.

You stood and backed away. "Are we clear?" you asked in a sickly sweet tone.

"Yes"

"Good. Open the door" you demanded.

Miranda couldn't help it, she was used to being made fun of, but her heart fell when you opened the breakroom door. When she watched you basically push the men into your office and slam the door shut, confusion washed over her.

So she sat at her desk, which wasn't far from your office, and listened.

She was thankful that most of her colleagues were gone to lunch, so they didn't have to see, or hear, any of what had happened. Or, what was happening.

She could hear you through the door, through the walls, your voice reverberated off of her skin, and at the same time seeped into her cells and spread throughout her body.

Tears formed in her eyes as warmth spread with it, and she realized what you were doing.

You were standing up for her.

"Hilmarson!"

She stood instantly and appeared at your door in three strides.

"Sargent" she nodded.

"Come in, close the door."

You paused, looking between the men and Hilmarson. She looked at you, they looked at the floor.

"This is absolutely ridiculous" you mumbled. "Stally, Carson, stand."

They stood.

"Turn to Hilmarson"

They turned.

"Apologise to her for acting like privileged twelve year old's, for god knows how long."

They did.

"Now get the hell out of my office" you spat.

You sat and stared at the wood of your desk, sighing before looking back up.

Hilmarson was still there, watching you with a toothy grin and watery eyes.

You knew what they called you, a bitch, bitter, boring, hateful.

But, none of it mattered. None of it mattered because it was you, and because it was true.

Hilmarson, on the other hand, had most likely been bullied for years.

The tall one, the woman, the odd one out, the leftover.

Adrian had to have noticed, he must have known. He was the only one who could've put an end to it, the only one with real authority.

Yet, he didn't.

And so, Hilmarson smiled down at you with thanks in her bright eyes, and you felt your heart…do something.

Her smile almost made all the bullshit you went through worth it.

"Thank you."

You averted your gaze back to the desk as you nodded.

"Do me a favour?"

Hilmarson stepped closer to you, "Of course."

You sighed and ran your hand through your hair.

"It seems when I leave my office I walk into a playground run by men. I never liked playgrounds, or men."

Hilmarson chuckled, you almost did too.

"Get me my sandwich from the fridge? I haven't eaten all day."

You didn't know their stories, true. You didn't know what any of your colleagues had really been through, just as they knew nothing of you.

But as their boss, you had their files, and that was enough to have leverage.

It was enough to understand.

When lunch was over, you stepped out of your office and demanded everyone's attention.

"I don't know what kind of place some of you think this is, but it's NOT fucking junior high. I don't know what Adrian let some of you get away with, but I will have no bullying, no misogyny, no sexism, and no bullshit in this office. I hear and see EVERYTHING, and if you decide to test that theory, you'll soon find out."

You looked around the room, finding everyone's attention turned to you, annoyed.

Except for Hilmarson, who smiled.

"Get back to work"

◇◆◇◆◇◆

She was near, you could feel her presence.

You hadn't felt it in so long.

Like the warmth of the sun, the smell of the rain, the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

She was there.

And oh how warm, how beautiful she was.

You had forgotten.

Her, in all her glory.

You, in all your misery.

Your soul combined with hers, one goes nowhere without the other.

But that was wishful thinking. Wishful dreaming, perhaps.

Because that wasn't the case. No, not at all.

The case was that she was frowning, extremely unlike her, unfamiliar to you.

You could only remember her smile.

The case was that you had fucked up, a mistake, really.

The case was that she was dead. A bullet.

And suddenly, you remembered what you had said to her that day.

It was your fault, it was all your fault.

…And I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away

And I never come back to this town again

In my life

I hope I lie

And tell everyone you were a good wife

And I hope you die

I hope we both die

The words spill like venom, involuntarily. You slap your hand over your mouth, but it's no use.

You watch with bated breath as your wife starts to spill tears like a waterfall, and turns to scratching at her own flesh, blood and tissue dropping onto the floor,

until…

Miranda.

Your heart fell as Miranda stared back at you.

She was frowning, extremely unlike her, unfamiliar to you.

You could only remember her smile.

You could only remember her happy.

God, you just wanted her to be happy.

#miranda hilmarson #miranda hilmarson x reader #adrian suckzzz #top of the lake #gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #wlw #top of the lake china girl #miranda hilmarson fanfic #miranda survives

[bernraccnt]

little red and the wolf (wolf x afab! reader)

dm requested:  HI!! can i request a NSFW/smut mr. Wolf x fem reader if thats ok and thanks!! 😁😁

i literally had the hardest time writing this but I DID IT

before u read: smut (+18), switch wolf and switch reader, reader and wolf are brat coded i don’t make the rules, still using they/them 4 reader, 2nd person pov, i really enjoy this reader’s characterization if you can’t tell, i also tried not to take it super seriously bc im not a big fan of serious sexy times, i suck at describing things my b

you once heard someone say that nightclubs bring out the most primal instincts in people. and sitting here, at the bar and being blinded by the lighting in the dark, crowded space, you felt inclined to agree with that.

when you were dragged out to the club by an old friend of yours, you wanted nothing more than to drink yourself into a coma and force them to drag your drunk ass home. hell, you were planning on throwing up on their shoes just to make them reconsider ever asking you to do this again.

but, when your eyes trailed along the partygoers, sweat and musk heavy on your nose, and you saw a slim figure already staring back at you, you decided to stop thinking about your future victim and take in how fucking attractive this man was.

even in the shadows of drunk people and a shitty remix of lady gaga’s telephone and shakira’s hips don’t lie blurring your senses, you could tell this guy was a wolf. long grey snout, golden eyes, and a row of teeth-- oh my fucking god, you were nearly salivating over those teeth.

you darted your eyes away before you could be considered a creeper, frantically bringing your glass of whatever bitter drink your friend forced you to order to your lips and chugging. god damn, either you are really thirsty or that man is really fucking hot.

you buried your head into your arms, trying to hold yourself together. even with liquid courage, you could never build up the balls to go over there and lay it thick on him. hell, even if your life depended on it, you’d probably still coward out.

��your outfit’s really nice.” the four words were spoken from a deep voice, one you didn’t recognize. picking your head up, you turned to your right and blanched upon seeing the wolf man leaning against the bar, now a foot away from you. he gave you an almost knowing smirk, “i’m digging the red.”

oh, of course you’re wearing red and talking to a wolf. next thing you know, you’re gonna watch him swallow your grandma. “eh, just threw on the first thing i saw.” you played off, swirling your drink and reeling back your panic. “though, it’s quite ironic that you’re talking to someone in red, ain’t it?”

he seemed to like this connection, let out a chuckle that you found attractive as well. god damn it, why couldn’t he have an ugly laugh? “what can i say? i seem to like the trouble that comes with the color.” fuck, why was that attractive? or were you just drunk? “my name’s wolf. it’s my first time comin’ here and honestly this place is a little too rowdy for me, but if you’re a regular, i feel like i’d reconsider.”

“shit, you think i come here regularly?” you guffawed in his face, smiling far wider than was probably socially acceptable for strangers. you then told him your name, “my friend dragged me here tonight, i don’t go clubbing.”

he mirrored your grin, showcasing a grin full of sharp teeth as he slid into the barstool next to you. “more of a homebody, eh? yeah, i get it.” wow, this guy was speaking your language. “i used to not go out much either. not many people are a big fan of me, y’know how it is.”

the dangerous glint in his eyes made you flustered, but also nagged at the back of your brain. somehow, you knew this guy from somewhere. the mannerisms, the ego, all of it was familiar to your tipsy brain.

but, you chose not to address it, only kept smiling. “that’s surprising! you seem pretty alright to me.” you took another sip of your drink. “what brings you here? i hope you’re not a poor soul like me.”

“eh, wanted to see what all the hype was.” he shrugged, resting both arms on the bar. he waved over the bartender and ordered some fancy drink, something you didn’t care for. “my friends would never drag me anywhere, i do all the dragging.”

“ah, a leader type.” you hummed before you could even stop yourself. “hot.” fuck, why do you say the things you do?

wolf took it in stride, in fact, he even seemed to be elated in your blatant attraction. “glad you think so. you’re not too bad yourself.” he leaned in, as if he was about to tell you a secret. “though, i’d prefer seeing the full masterpiece you are, without clothes that is.”

if this was any piece of shit in this club, you would’ve socked the living hell out of them. but wolf wasn’t exactly ordinary in your standards, so instead, you felt your stomach clench in excitement and had to school your expression.

“we’ll see where the night goes, wolfy.” you teased with a playful wink.

the next few hours of your night was spent sitting right on your spot on that barstool and laughing it up with your newest stranger turned acquaintance. you were so entranced by the charming wolf that when your friend came over and said they wanted to go home, you did a double take.

“ay yo? what time is it?” you fumbled for your phone, eyes widening when it showed you it was nearly four in the morning. “oh shit, we gotta go get an uber.” you grunted under your breath, turning to wolf with an apologetic smile. “hey, man, i’m sorry to cut this short but this dumbass behind me can’t even walk straight.”

“fuck you.” your friend muttered, slurring and swaying as they stood to your left.

wolf let out a hearty laugh, waving you both off. “it’s alright, i’m just sad it couldn’t have been longer.” you physically perked up when he pulled out his phone and tapped on the contacts app, creating a new one before your eyes. “is it alright if i get your number?”

“fuck YES it is.” your mouth spoke before your mind could come up with an actually alright response to his question and you snatched up that phone like it was the last piece of candy on halloween. wolf had trouble hiding his snickers as you frantically typed out your number, made your contact name “hottie at the club”, and took a blurry selfie with flash as your contact photo. that made you giggle so hard it hurt your stomach.

wolf watched with the widest grin as you left the bar, dragging your friend by the back of their hood. never before had he been treated so nonchalantly, so nicely, by a stranger. it was odd that you didn’t recognize him, but he chalked it up to your own drunkenness getting in the way of the fear that consumed most people.

and despite all the signs that he probably shouldn’t shoot you a text, lest you become a suspect by the m.p.d. or if you report him to the m.p.d., he did so anyways, only less than two days after your first meeting.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: hey! it’s wolf, the guy from the club on friday, i hope you were successful in throwing up on your friends shoes

while he was mulling over his decision with mild anxiety, you were sitting on your couch, rewatching your favorite movie for the day. when you saw the text, your eyes popped open, and you choked on the chips you were munching on. your fingers rapidly pressed against your phone, movie forgotten.

hottie at the club: OH FUCK I TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT???

wolf let out a loud cackle that startled the other bad guys at the kitchen table around him. if he tried hard enough, he felt like he could hear you shrieking that with a panicked expression.

you added xxx-xxx-xxxx as furry!

furry: sure did. all the way down to which alcohol you were planning on chugging to get the grossest effect

hottie at the club: i am so sorry you listened to me scheme against my friend

you let out a long groan, burying your head into the couch cushions and screaming as hard as you could. you even threw a few punches in there for good measure. god, you were such an idiot.

furry: dont be it was funny

furry: anyways i was wondering if you wanted to do something sometime soon? 

him. you wanted to do him.

furry: like a movie?

hottie at the club: sure! i don’t really like movie theaters but we could do something at one of our places if you want!!

oh fuck, wolf thought, it’s like you were made for him. he breathed a sigh of relief, as he was dreading being seen in public. he didn’t want to scare you away now, not when he’s just started getting to know you.

furry: yours might be better. my roommates are kinda nosy lol

and speaking of nosy, webs peeked over wolf’s shoulder with a huge grin. “oohhhhhh” she drawled, laughing at the glare she got from the bad guys’ leader. “who’s the ‘hottie at the club’?”

“mind your fucking business, that’s who.”

hottie at the club: how about this friday at 8?? i can pick u up if needed :)!

aw, he mentally cooed at your use of emoticon. that was kinda cute.

“oh, wolf’s gotta partner now?” and now shark had joined in peering over wolf’s shoulder, eyes wide with curiosity. “oh, is that a date?” meanwhile, webs had looked at the number listed next to the contact and was now looking up the person wolf was texting discreetly.

furry: works for me! i’ll text you my address then

furry: excuse me for a second i have some heads to bash in

wolf had sent that last message and quickly pocketed his phone before webs and shark could relay any more information to the others. “not a word--”

“WOLFY’S GOT A DATE!” shark gushed like a teenager, balling his hands against his face. “are they cute? when did you meet them? do we know them?”

“pfft, as if.” snake sneered, but wolf didn’t take it seriously. it was his way of joking. “you think wolf can reel in any person?”

“like you could, boomer.” webs retorted before wolf could. he was mildly thankful for her interjection and gave her a small smile of gratitude.

which quickly fell when webs turned the computer around and showed your citizenship file and everything else related to you, ranging from social media to past jobs.

“what-- webs!” he was utterly scandalized when he saw a glimpse of what looked to be a private twitter account, with many retweets of porn related things. “knock it off!”

“oh, and they’re freaky.” piranha was impressed, reaching forward and clicking on the tab with your twitter, scrolling through it. “lots and lots of sex stuff here, chico.”

“eugh, don’t turn the computer this way.” snake gagged, hiding the computer screen from his eyes. “i don’t wanna see this.”

“piranha! snake!”

“they seem to be a keeper.” shark took over the trackpad from piranha and clicked open your instagram, looking through the far and few photos of yourself on there. “really good looking. good job, wolf.”

“shaaark.” this one came out as a groan.

the group of four snickered at the puddle their boss was melting into. it was oddly hilarious to see the typically cool and calm wolf was dying at the sight of his friends discovering his future date.

“so, what? you hoping to fuck or...?” snake decided to ask the question of the hour, quirking an eyebrow over at his friend as he buried his face into his hands. “because, no judgement here, man.”

“shut up, for the love of god.” his deadpan tone caused a domino effect of laughter at his expense.

unfortunately, wolf didn’t stop getting teased all the way up to the actual date, where he took the car and drove it to a nicer part of town, partially to escape his friends and partially to not give away where his homebase was. he let his fingers drum against the light pole he was leaning against, waiting patiently for your “bunk ass car” (your words, not his) to make its appearance.

he was surprised to see that your car, was in fact, a bunk ass vehicle. not exactly the best condition and there were dents here and there, but he couldn’t complain. not when you had that adorably large grin from your spot in the driver’s seat.

“what’s up, wolf?” you hummed, happily bobbing to a song on the radio. wolf recognized it as something webs enjoyed listening to. “you ready for this sick ass movie date?”

he buckled himself, trying his hardest not to sniff aggressively. the car had a uniquely you smell, it made his mood brighten instantly. “depends. what’re we watching, red?”

you gave him a sideways glance. “red?”

“like the thing you were wearing when we met?” he explained, glancing over. his eyes caught onto your shoe against the gas pedal and smirked. “and apparently the same color as the crocs you own.”

to your credit, you didn’t immediately crash your car as you leaned down and frantically ripped off the red shoe wear, throwing them over your shoulder and into the backseat. “fuck you, i’m just gonna stop wearing clothes around you at this point.”

wolf’s grin turned evil. “i wouldn’t mind that.”

“of course you wouldn’t, you pervert.” you scoffed, but your grin was an exact mirror to his.

wolf turned so his upper body was fully facing you and leaned over the center console. “you can call me a pervert, but i think you’d probably enjoy it too.”

you had stopped at a red light, giving you the opportunity to reached over and tug him by his plain shirt’s collar, now inches apart. “fuck around and find out.” all the breath in wolf’s lungs escaped him as he saw the power trip you currently were taking.

shit, you were his equal in every single way. he laughed, your lips brushing against one another. “i have a feeling we’re not gonna be watching anything when we get to your place.”

the only thing that stopped you from making out with him right there was the light flashing green. you released your grip on his shirt and returned to being a safe driver. “like i said, fuck around and find out.”

when you were about five minutes from your place, wolf reached over and set his hand on your thigh. everything but that part of your body tensed up and you had to fight the urge to pull over in a random parking lot and fuck him right there.

needless to say, as soon as you walked inside your apartment, you snatched wolf by the shirt and shoved him up against the wall next to your door. he gave you an equally eager grin, grabbing the back of your head and smashing your lips against one another.

it was a clumsy kiss, teeth bumping and with way too much tongue, but neither of you really cared. your hands wrapped around his neck, entangling your fingers into the fur on the back of his head, while his own hands shoved themselves up your hoodie.

his nails lightly scraped your stomach, dull enough not to scratch you, but also sharp enough to hurt if he grabbed you too hard. he leaned back against the wall and moved his hands down to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze.

you could feel him smile into the kiss as you jumped, then shivered at this motion. “asshole.” you muttered against his mouth, still jumping when he prompted you to. his hands caught the underside of your thighs and he pulled back, panting. you both looked equally roughed up.

“where’s your bedroom?”

“furthest door down the hall.” you instantly responded, moving to press kisses against his neck. wolf wasted no time, speed walking across your messy apartment and all but kicking your door in when he reached it.

one moment, you’re mouthing at his neck, and the next, you’re flying through the air and onto the bed. you let out a loud shriek-laugh, smiling widely when wolf dove to land on top of you. you both still were smiling at one another.

once again, you guys found yourselves kissing, your crotch moving to slot against his and you grinded as hard as you could. the reaction was instant, a groan coming from his throat as his hips jerked.

he pulled back, giving you a playful glare. “hey, now.” he grunted, even though he was returning your motions with his own. you both sighed in pleasure when his dick rubbed you in just the right way, your head falling back. “fuck.” he whined.

“that’s what we’re doing.” you cheekily replied, still smiling the entire time. wolf, in retaliation, leaned down and started pressing his teeth into your neck, leaving bite marks. you sucked in a deep breath of air in response a rough bite, arching your back and gripping at the hair right underneath his ears.

“shit, you’re gonna be the death of me.” he said under his breath, pulling back far enough to start tugging your hoodie off. “take this off.” he demanded.

thankfully, you didn’t have a smart comment waiting for him, instantly sitting up and ripping off the article of clothing.

wolf’s jaw dropped when he realized that you weren’t wearing anything else underneath it, eyes zeroing in on your boobs. “you-- where’s your shirt?” he ears tilted back and he swore if he was capable of blushing, he would be neon red.

you shrugged with no explanation, tilting your head. “you were gonna see them eventually, might as well give you easier access.” you could’ve burst out laughing at how flabbergasted the poor guy was. one pair of boobs and he’s gone.

then you suddenly stopped smiling and looked at him with wide, fearful eyes. “wait, are you a virgin?”

he immediately started shaking his head frantically. “nononononono! i would’ve said something if i was.” he reassured you.

“oh.” was all you said.

and then wolf leaned forward, hands outstretched to your chest. you laughed at the mood shift and suddenly, you were back on track.

he gave an experimental squeeze and planted a kiss on your boobs before pulling back and taking off his shirt himself. he instantly was back to hovering over you and hand his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your pants and underwear. “normally, i’d take it slow, but i just wanna see you, red.”

“go for it, mr. big and bad.” you gave your consent, picking up your hips and allowing him the proper space to pull off the clothing. he gave you no time to adjust to the sudden naked state you were in, already tugging your thighs over his shoulder. his eyes zeroed in on your pussy, your slick glinting in the light of your bedside lamp.

you could’ve disintegrated when he started placing small nips and bites on your inner thigh, the pad of his thumb coming up and resting on your clit. you sucked in a hard breath as he stared at you, maw closing over the plush fat on your thigh.

he pulled back to tell you, “i can’t finger you with these,” he wiggled his fingers, more specifically motioning at his nails, “so you’re gonna have to do the hard work for me, sweetheart.”

you groaned as if he asked you to go do the dishes. “damn it, i was gonna have you do all the hard work--” you let out a choked moan, cutting yourself off as wolf pressed his finger back against your swollen clit. “alright, i’ll do it, shit--!”

you propped yourself up on your left elbow and shoved a few of your pillows under your shoulder to make it a little easier for you. lying back against them, you slowly dragged your fingers down your stomach, eyeing the way wolf’s eyes were locked onto them.

trying to hide your growing smirk, you traced the outside of your pussy with a finger, entertaining yourself with the way his eyes just wouldn’t look away. he did snap out of it when he heard you hide a snicker and glared up at you.

“sorry.” you muttered, pushing one finger inside of you and arching your back at how good it felt. “give me a sec, i’ll have it all figured out in no time.” from the way you were talking so casually, one might expect you to be doing literally any other activity.

wolf gave you a look you couldn’t quite discern. “no, go slow.” he demanded.

“what the fuck-- do you wanna fuck me or not?” you retorted, glaring as you pushed the finger in and out.

“i do, but i also wanna see this.”

“...fucking weirdo.” you grumble and flopped back, trying to move at a steady pace. wolf hummed in accomplishment, pulling one of his own hands away and using it to take off his boxers as he watched you with eager eyes.

when you pushed in a second a finger with the first was when it started feeling really good. curling them like the expert you were, you let out soft moans. wolf’s eyes took in how your hips rose to meet your fingers and how carried away you were getting as you tried to prepare yourself for him.

“yeah, just like that, baby.” he murmured, pushing your hips down and holding you to the bed. his thumb returned to your clit, with slow circles, and you let out a long whine, head falling against your pillow. “oh, you’re so pretty like this.” he beamed when you let out an embarrassed huff that melted into a groan.

“please just fuck me.” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut from the mixture of yours and wolf’s motions. your fingers rubbed against a specific part inside of you and your vision went white for a second. “please, please, please!”

“alright, alright.” he spoke as if he was being inconvenienced, but you saw the way he moved to sit up immediately. he took his thumb off and then paused, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jolt from the sudden pressure. “sorry, just giving you a good luck kiss before i destroy your guts, little red.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever, loser.” you chortled, pulling your fingers out and pushing the pillows underneath you away. when you laid back down, flat on your back, you brought your legs up and presented yourself to him with a wicked smile. “now come over here and fuck me with your big bad cock.”

wolf didn’t even get the chance to fully comprehend what you had just said to him before he burst out into hysterical cackles, falling face first into your chest as he laughed and laughed. you were no better, tears streaming down your face as you let out a long wheeze.

“my WHA-HA-HAT?”

“BUAHAHA!” you both were losing your minds, clinging to one another like you were going to disappear if you didn’t.

and when you had cooled down and wiped your face dry, you and wolf stared at one another, trying to catch your breaths. you then snorted and that’s what started another laughing fit, with wolf’s laugh going super high pitched.

then, after recovering from that, wolf had picked out a condom from his pants and tore it open, rolling it onto himself with a chuckle. he looked like he wanted to laugh more about your comment, but the throbbing of his dick reminded him of the task at hand.

“you’re so ridiculous.” he muttered, returning to his position above you. both of his hands moved to hook your thighs over his and you could feel the tip of his dick pressed against your pussy.

your heart thumped with anticipation. “don’t go easy on me, wolf. i can handle a little pain.” you teased, making him roll his eyes.

“after all the shit you just pulled, i don’t think i even have it in me to consider going gentle on you.” and then he pushed in. both of your jaws dropped as he moved at a semi-slow but steady pace until his hips had met your own. the hands that held your thighs open were now gripping hard enough to hurt.

“oh fuck.” you moaned.

“ditto.” he agreed, eyes fluttering shut. “shit, this might become a regular occurrence.”

“fuck, if your dick feels like this every time, i might make it a daily one.” you spoke in a breathy tone. your back arched and you shimmied your hips up, attempting to set a pace.

wolf met your motions with his own and soon, you both fell into a steady movement. every time you fell down and the tip of his dick rubbed against your sweet spot, you felt like you were going to pass out. he wasn’t like anything you ever had before, his dick shape unique enough to make just enough of a difference.

wolf, meanwhile, felt like he was in heaven. every clench and every sound that left you made him reach the edge far faster than he’d like to admit it. he was holding back with all of his might at every thrust, snarling to himself. fuck, he was about to start paying to be around him all day if it meant he got to do this whenever and wherever.

he leaned down, still thrusting at a consistent pace, and started marking up your body, wherever he could. one hickey on your stomach, another few on your boobs, and more littering your neck. he couldn’t get enough, he needed to be smothered in you.

so, he stopped thrusting and held you close to him, chest to chest. “what, why’d you stop--” you let out a surprised shriek when he flipped you both over, with him now at the edge of your bed and you straddling him.

“ride me.” he gasped, looking up at you with such desperation. “god, fuck, ride me.”

you didn’t even bother trying to act smart, using your knees as leverage and bouncing up and down on his cock. from this new angle, you felt him even better, his tip rubbing against your gummy walls at just the right pace. fuck, now you were embarrassingly close.

“shit.” you two cursed in unison, making you both snicker through the moans.

“i’m-- fuck-- i’m already close, red.” wolf murmured in disbelief, returning to his task at marking you up.

“glad to know it’s mutual.” you sighed, eyes squeezed shut and thighs beginning to tense uncontrollably.

it was like a wave of static crashed over you after a particularly good thrust, your entire body losing feeling except for in your pussy. you squeezed harshly and that’s what made wolf let out a broken moan before he came as well. he fell back, grabbing your back and dragging you with him.

you moaned into a rather clumsy kiss, riding out the waves of pleasure that felt like they would never end. eventually, you both had to pull back and while panting, you calmed down from the sensitive high.

wolf stared up at you like you were a god, smiling when you swiped the sweat off of your forehead. “pretty good, right?” he asked, both joking, but also making sure you enjoyed yourself.

you nodded rapidly, dispelling whatever worry he had. “oh yeah, i enjoyed that.” your voice was now gravelly, over-exertion from all the moaning and groaning ruining it.

you then moved to sit up, hands planted against his chest. “pretty good fuck for a criminal, i gotta admit.”

wolf blanched, eyes popping wide. you let out a half shriek, half laugh at his reaction, covering your mouth and leaning away.

though he probably should be shitting his pants, wolf just let out a long groan, wiping at his face. 

fuck, you were lucky your pussy was talented, or he would’ve ran out the room.

#mr. wolf x reader #mr wolf x reader #the bad guys x reader #reader insert #x reader #afab reader #afab! reader #gender neutral pronouns tho #tryna be inclusive 4 yall #smut

[zoeysdamn]

Bark, Bite & Break Bones - Tyler Galpin x Van Helsing!reader | Part.4

Summary: Things seem to go better between you and Tyler, as you both realize how alike you are. Maybe this could get you past the sarcastic weird friendship status? Ajax definitely thinks so. A tragic turn of events during the Poe cup lead to a yelling session, where some harsh words are not regretted. 

Warnings: angst, smut (characters are between 17 and 18), swearing, name-calling, physical assault (bullying), attempted drowning, mention of blood, implied removal of teeth

A/N: Let’s be honest, the whole plot of this long-ass chapter (8630 words, what the actual fuck) is to get to the smexy smoochie times. I regret absolutely nothing lmao. 

[Masterlist] [Prologue] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3]

Two weeks after the nightly confrontation, Principal Weems called you in her office. For the briefest moment, you thought that someone had talked about what happened in the forest then in the school corridors, but then you remembered that none of them had any interest in doing that. Plus, Kent was a coward, and Divina was not smart enough to take such a risk without compromising herself. So this summons in the middle of your Outcasts history class maybe wasn’t such a big deal? Gathering your belongings you excused yourself to the teacher before making your way out of the classroom. You caught Tyler’s gaze on the way, shrugging lightly at him to say it was probably nothing. 

Ever since that attack and the unexpected heart to heart – another one – around a cup of coffee, you and Tyler had grown closer. The flirting and sarcasm was still here of course, you both enjoyed that too much to ever let it down, but there was beginning to have something…more. More glances to the other when no one looked, just to make sure that everything was okay; more attention from you during the therapy sessions, carefully listening to Tyler gradually opening up about how he felt, whether it be anger toward his dad and Laurel, sadness, regrets or no about what he had done, how he felt at Nevermore. You were secretly glad the shameless flirt didn’t change, it helped you keep some distance between the two of you. Because even if you started to actually appreciate Tyler’s company (aside from the fact he was the only company you had at Nevermore), you had to remind yourself that he was still a menace; he was capable of losing his shit and your job was precisely to make sure it won’t happen, no matter how friendly you were to each other. 

Tyler was right, you were using sarcasm and flirting to deflect every single one of your problems rather than facing them; this was no different, but you could feel your will falter more and more. Being both considered as monsters being outcasts had gotten you closer than you could have imagined. And it was kind of nice to have someone actually starting to care about you, even if you spent most of the time pushing it away.

Knocking on the office door, you entered after Weem’s invitation to come in. 

“You wanted to see me ma’am?” you asked flatly, internally glad there was no school board to welcome you this time. 

Twice a month or so, the school board called you to the principal’s office, requiring regular updates on the Hyde situation. Both your bitterness and their habit to be haughty never helped those meetings to have a semblance of civility, and it often ended up in half-hidden threats and snapping. 

Larissa Weems nodded – noting the lack of sarcastic greeting you were known for – and invited you to sit on one of the chairs in front of her desk. 

“Indeed, Miss Van Helsing. How are things going for you at Nevermore?”

The memory of the students and their baseball balls flashed behind your eyes – as did the lingering ache of the now almost faded bruise on your cheek – but you shrugged, “Not so different from last time,” you simply said. Calling those fuckers out would only bring you more problems. 

She nodded in understanding, “What about Mr Galpin? Any progress so far?” 

You frowned, “Shouldn’t you be asking Dr.Fern that?”

“I’d like to have your view on this situation.” 

For a moment, you were tempted to pour all of your sarcasm to that wonderful occasion to spit on that cocky asshole. But that’s what you would have done a few months ago; now, you weren’t so keen about that, much to your own surprise. 

“He’s trying,” you conceded in a softer tone than usual, “he only wants to graduate without much trouble, make amends and then go on his merry way. I truly think he’s genuine with that.” 

Principal Weems didn’t hide her surprise and her eyebrows rose high, “Is that the Van Helsing or the student talking here?”

“Does it matter?” you shrugged, “for once I can say something good about a creature I’m hunting, don’t make me look like the villain, Principal Weems.”

She cleared her throat, not gracing you with any other answer on the matter; which meant you were right. “That’s good news then. I assume you’re keeping a close eye on him still?” 

You nodded, “Ajax’s helping too. Although the two of them are now more at ease with each other, he’s still on alert.”. It was Weems’ turn to nod this time, then you raised an eyebrow, “Why are you asking, thought? I thought last week’s meeting with the board had reassured you enough.” 

It had been a vast joke, that meeting. At your bruise on cheek and knuckles, and the cut above your eyebrow, the board had been suspicious and had asked you for explanation; no doubt looking for every reason to point out one of your faults. Snarky as ever you had casually explained you had tripped on a root and fell during one of your morning runs; before daring them to prove that if they didn’t believe you. 

“It’s merely personal curiosity,” she acknowledged flatly, linking her hands over her desk, “now, about why I made you come here: you’re aware that the Poe cup is to take place in a few days, right?”. At the nod of your head, the principal carried on, “Due to some…daring behavior last year, we’ve decided to increase the security during the race.”

“I thought the point of this cup was to have no rules?” you pointed out. 

“Indeed, but the security of the students is a sensitive subject as you can imagine,” she said gravely, “some parents are more…concerned about it this year.”

There was no need to explain why; a murderous Hyde and a Van Helsing at the school had to make more than a parent worry. “Yet you keep the Poe cup this year. Why, for the sake of tradition?”

“This is not the subject here,” she brushed off casually, “I’m asking you to give a hand to the race’s security this year.” 

A dumbfounded scoffed left your lips, “In what honor would I do that?” 

Weems gave you a scowl, “It could help you look less menacing and more willing to redeem yourself, miss Van Helsing. It’s in your best interest to help us here.”

“I don’t want to look less menacing,” you snarled, “I’ve already agreed to help you with Tyler, that should be enough for the judge and the board.” 

“You’re not making things easier for you, Y/N.”

“Is that a threat?” you dared, cocking your head to the side. Weems glared at you for a second, but then shook her head. 

“It's advice,” she articulated, “and I truly think you should take it before I’m ordering you to do it.” 

Huffing in annoyance, you crossed your arms, “Fine, I’ll do your stupid security work. What am I tasked with?” 

Hiding her satisfied smile, the principal laid a map of the Nevermore lake on her desk, “You’ll have to patrol around the lake. Last year some other students had joined the race by the outer shores, we want to make sure nothing shady’s going on in those areas.” 

“Sounds simple enough,” you nodded, “what about Tyler? Should I bring him with me?” 

Weems leaned back in her seat, “Ajax Petropolus isn’t competing this year, he’ll be asked to watch over him in the crowd. Where the school board and I can keep an eye on him.” 

“Perfect,” you said sharply, getting up and grabbing your bag, “guess I’ll be free of him for a day, lucky me.”

Weems didn’t add anything as you exited her office. On your way to your next class, you received a text. 

Up for a coffee break? 

Without thinking, you grinned and typed back an answer. 

Look who’s asking me on a date now. Hope this isn’t your attempt to poison me, pretty boy 

Haven’t found something stronger than your sarcasm yet. 10 minutes in the quad? 

Make it 5 and I might even go easy on you at fencing practice 

Come to think of it, maybe you’d miss Tyler if you happened to leave him for a day in the end. 

The day of the Poe cup, you were glad to be allowed to dress in your civil clothes and not in the awful Nevermore uniform. Technically, everyone was allowed to, but you had never cherished the classical shirt/jeans combo this much. Arriving on the race grounds with Tyler, you gazed at the gathering teams this year.  The elaborate costumes were a sight to see, but it didn’t cover for the hateful looks thrown in your direction as soon as you both arrived at the tents area. 

“So you’re telling me you’re letting me in this while you go on a sunday walk? Any chances I can tag along?” 

You playfully rolled your eyes at Tyler’s words, “Ajax will be with you, relax.”

“How much do you think I have to bribe him to stone everyone?” he joked and you laughed lightly at that. 

On your right side, a group of teenagers exited a tent dressed as grim reapers, their black and white makeup making them look like deadly pandas. Among them, Ajax was there in his normal clothes, trading jokes and encouraging his friends. When they passed next to you, you recognized Xavier and other boys of his dorms; you simply nodded at him when his eyes met yours, before warily glancing at Tyler. The tension between the two of them hadn’t disappeared, but at the very least they seemed civil toward each other. Maybe their shared friendship with Ajax had something to do with it. 

“What are they?” you asked the Gorgon as he stayed with Tyler and you, giving one last cheer to his best friend’s team. 

“The reapers,” he pointed out proudly, “they drew The City in the Sea this year, something along the lines of Death sitting on a throne or something.” 

Glancing at Tyler, he shrugged in indication he had no clue either. Edgar Allan Poe’s poems weren’t something you were experts at. 

“Guess it’s my cue,” you mumbled, catching a glimpse of Principal Weems tapping on her watch while watching in your direction, “you boys are going to be fine?”

They both nodded, the awkwardness of their first interactions almost completely gone by now. Crossing past Tyler, you whispered in his ear: 

“Text me if the board decides to be a little too friendly with you, those guys are absolute shitheads.”

“Awww, you do care,” he cooed

Rolling your eyes in amusement you shoved him playfully, “Don’t make me regret this, pretty boy.” 

As you made your way away from the crowd, the two teenagers gazed at you until you disappeared from their gaze. Noticing the way Tyler’s eyes lingered a little bit longer, Ajax let out a low whistle. 

“So, what’s the deal between you two?”

A confused frown took place on Tyler’s face, who turned to his roommate, “What?”

“I mean,” he tried, awkwardly gesturing to where you had previously stood, “there’s a lot of sexual tension here, and you’re like, always flirting but aren’t you supposed to be enemies or something?”  

The Hyde shrugged, “Guess so. She’s also ready to bite my head off any moment.”

Instead of proving a point, the argument only seemed to go in Ajax’s direction, “See, exactly what I was saying. You’re bound to fuck, bro.” 

Tyler tried to repress a smirk. “Didn’t know my roommate was that much into gossip,” he chuckled, while the both of them tried to find a good spot to watch the race. 

“I’m not,” defended the Gorgon, "but Enid is.”

Following the direction Ajax pointed at, Tyler’s eyes switched to where the Ophelia team stood, dressed in sort of zombie brides, torn veils and fancily stained long sleeved white tops – except for Wednesday who sticked out in her black outfit. 

“She has a shit ton theories going on about you two,” chimed Ajax, waving at the werewolf when she gave him a smile. 

Tyler let out an almost nervous snort, “I’d be curious to hear them.”  

The teams started to gather near their respective canoe, meaning the race was about to start soon. As he and Ajax tried to get a good view of the lake, Tyler caught the sight of a familiar face among one of the teams. Dressed as a weird raven, Kent had a shifty gaze, almost looking nervous. The memory it brought back to his mind made Tyler frown slightly. 

“Hey,” he called out to Ajax, “do you know anything about what happened two years ago?” 

“ ‘bout what?” said the Gorgon mind-asbently, struggling to open the coke can he had brought with him. 

“About the accident with Y/N.” 

The Gorgon choked on his drink, coughing awkwardly a few times before clearing his throat. 

“W-well, I know what everyone else knows, nothing much.”

“It’ll be enough,” insisted Tyler, “so, what happened?” 

His roommate scratched his neck nervously, “Well, you see, when Y/N arrived at Nevermore she wasn’t uh– not many people like her y’know? Being a Van Helsing and all that. But to be honest, she didn’t make any fuss or anything really, like, she just laid low and all.”

Tyler frowned slightly, “So what’s the problem?”

Taking a look around them, Ajax lowered his voice, “There was that student, Jeremiah. A vampire guy, from a rich family, old blood and everything. Kind of a jerk, but never did anything that bad, he just played the tough guy.”

For some reason, Tyler doubted that. Still, he let Ajax continue the story. 

“Jeremiah and his friends tried to humiliate her, because well, pride I guess, but she never fought back to not get expelled, everyone knew she was ready to tear them apart tho.” 

“None of the teachers said anything?” 

Ajax shrugged, “There was no evidence technically, just a random student’s feud. Until…”

“Until?”

The beanie boy gulped slowly, “Well- there was a night, everyone was getting to their dorm just before the lights extinction, and then…then we heard a detonation and a scream coming from the quad–”, he took a deep breath before carrying on, “and when coach Vlad arrived well…that wasn’t really a pretty sight from what I’ve heard.”

The mere mention of it sent a cold chill down his spine; Ajax had never seen Jeremiah’s face after the attack clearly, but the rumors had made up for the missing pieces. 

“He- he had half of his face burned and…and he missed some teeth from what I’ve heard. Took quite the beat up, him and his buddies, but Jeremiah had it the worst, couldn’t leave the hospital for two whole months.” 

Tyler hummed pensively, “Okay, but has it to do with Y/N?” 

“Jeremiah’s buddy told everyone what happened before the attack, like how she harassed them because they were vampires and all, and besides, the corner of the quad they were attacked was booby-trapped.”

“Booby trapped?” repeated Tyler with a raise of his eyebrows. 

“An artisanal explosive device was put there, just for them,” explained the Gorgon. At his roommate’s still perplexed look, he insisted, “the bomb was concentrated with silver dust and hydrochloric acid according to the investigation, which is the most effective weapon against vampires, it has to be Y/N.”

“Okay but how can everyone be so sure?” 

Ajax gave him a surprisingly sympathetic smile – yeah, Tyler cared about you even if he didn’t admit it. “She confessed everything,” he said, making Tyler’s eyes widen even more, “admitted everything the second your dad suspected her, explained how she placed the bomb and lured Jeremiah and the other to the quad. Never confessed ripping out his teeth though.”

“What?” articulated Tyler. 

Drowning the last of his soda, Ajax coughed awkwardly again, “Jeremiah lost his canines, no one knows why. Heard that his family got a mage forging an amulet to dissimulate his scarred face, but I don’t think the teeth grew again. But hey,” he added hurriedly, “you can’t tell anyone I told you that okay? Those are kinda confidential information, officially it’s been an accident.”

“What do you mean?” asked Tyler, completely missing out Weem’s speech for the opening of the cup. 

Ajax scratched his neck nervously “Well, you see Jeremiah was an important member of the Nightshades and I kinda owe my place to his departure.”

“The Nightshades? What is that, a boy’s band?” snorted Tyler. 

“Nah bro, we’re a secret student society, but this stays between us okay?”. The Hyde gave him an amused nod. “His family unenrolled him from Nevermore after that, claiming he needed to be transferred into another hospital. The official announcement of the school mentioned an accident, but the Nightshades got word of the police report thanks to Yoko. Vampires solidarity or something.”

Suddenly, something clicked in Tyler’s mind, “Wait, Yoko’s a nightshade?”

A horn resonated loudly, cheers erupting at the beginning of the race. 

“Uh-uh, she and Bianca are kinda leading us now. Why?” 

Tyler’s eyes flickered to the canoe, clumsily getting on the lake under their team’s efforts. Neither the blue-eyed siren nor the vampire were anywhere to be seen. 

“Do they compete in the race this year?” he hurriedly asked the Gorgon. 

“Uh, don’t think so, why?”

Tyler couldn’t answer him. But something suddenly felt very, very wrong. 

Strolling on the lake’s surroundings, you were internally grateful for this gateway. You weren’t too fond of big crowds, if avoiding the wheering students was a possibility you were glad to take it. 

Scanning the shores with your eyes, you looked out for any suspicious object or presence. Usually you would have been impressed by any attempt of cheating, but given you were there as a security guard today, well guess you were the buzzkill. The echo of a foghorn made you whip around briefly in reflex, the boats starting to hurry on the water. 

That’s when it happened. 

A bubbling sound erupted from the lake and before you could turn your head in its direction, something sprung from the water, gripping your ankle and tugging harshly at it. The sudden attack made you lose your balance and you crashed on the muddy shore ground with a yelp. Your head hit the ground and dizziness overcame your senses for a few seconds; enough for the unknown gripping strength to tug on your leg, sending a shrill of pain through your muscles as they tried to pull you into the water. Violently kicking your legs, you tried to get yourself free of this grip, swearing loudly with everything you had. The sound of quick footsteps reached your ears, and through your blurry mind you thought that someone had heard you and came to help. Hands grasped your and your head shot up, ready to thank whoever had come. But at the sight of a familiar dark binocular and sour face, all your hopes vanished instantly. 

“Yok–”

A hard punch from the vampire sent you on the ground again, falling limply backwards at the border of the water. The same force that had tried to bring you into the lake broke from the surface again, and it was only when it pushed your head under the water you realized it was hands. The cold splash of the water against your face made the dizziness vanish on the spot, instead replaced by the struggling of your lungs trying to breathe. The unforgiving pressure of the grip on your neck didn’t allow you to move the slightest and you started to panic even more. Despite the muddy waters, you recognized the cerulean eyes glaring at you from the depths of the lake. Bianca. 

Lungs starting to burn, you trashed your limbs, trying to get out of here the quickest way possible. Plunging your left hand on the water you clumsily scrabbled out to the siren’s face, and as soon as you felt it you dug your nails into her cheek with all of your strength. Bianca let out a wail and the pain thankfully made her let go of your neck; emerging it from the water you took a loud breath, filling your aching lungs. But your relief was short-lived as a hit on your back made you fall inward again, and a new hand pushed your head under the water again. 

“What do you think you’re doing, bitch?” seethed Yoko, her hand gripping on your head and maintaining it immersed. When your left arm tried to reach for something again, she pressed one of her knees between your scapulas, eliciting a muffled wail from you as she gripped your rebellious arm. “Don’t fucking move,” she growled and twisted your arm painfully. 

Black dots started to fill your vision and it became harder to stay conscious. Water started to fill your lungs no matter how hard you tried to breathe, and the piercing pain on your arm wasn’t bearable anymore. Yoko vampire’s strength bent it so hard, you could feel your articulations almost popping under its pressure. 

Then without warning, your head was pulled out of the water again, making you gasp. 

“What are you doing?” you heard Yoko scream at the siren.

“The race had begun, someone could see us!” Bianca argued. Their voices sounded so far away from you.

“This is our best chance to make her pay,” assured the vampire, and their argument gave you the opportunity to try to snuggle out. “Where do you think you’re doing?” roared Yoko when she felt you move against her, and in her furious rage she didn’t notice pressing your left arm behind your back even harder. A snap echoed and a blood curdling wail left your mouth.

The echo of your cry resonated through the lake, getting to the intrigued participants on their boats. Hearing the shouts, a few of them turned their heads in your direction. The throbbing pain on your twisted shoulder and arm made your mind dizzy, everything around you happening in slow motion. You vaguely heard a splash – maybe Bianca fled? – and a curse from above you, then the pressure on your back suddenly disappeared. It took you a solid minute to realize both of your attackers were gone, and by the time you managed to recompose your spirits and look up, two of the canoes were now paddling in your direction, concerned and shouting voices calling out for you. At least, to whoever they thought you were, there was no way any Nevermore student would have come to help a Van Helsing. Although you did recognize Enid’s voice among the shouting. 

Struggling to get up, you managed to get into a sitting position clumsily and then the hardest part was done. Before any of the boats coasted a surge of adrenaline made you jump on your feet, and without looking back you ran away to the dorms. 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and you tried to clutch your left arm close to you to tune down the throbbing pain. Shouts echoed behind you but thankfully no one seemed to follow you. Leaving the Poe cup into a confused mess, you didn’t even think about the consequences. For now, all you needed was to run, and lay low. This was what a wounded animal usually did when they weren’t feeling safe anywhere; and you should know, because it was everything you were at that moment. So you ran. 

Less than twenty minutes later, after finally reaching your dorm, you had slammed the door of your room in anger. Good news was, no one seemed to have noticed your absence – or no action had been taken yet, either way you were glad of it. 

Hunched over on your desk you swore between gritted teeth, trying to reach the back of your shirt with your trembling right hand. The faintest move made a shot of pain rise immediately within all your left side, striking you like hot iron and making you swallow the pathetic whimpers that had dared to try to escape your throat. Internally you cringed for the hundredth time at your own stupidity; how could have you been so dumb and let yourself be cornered like that? God, you almost wanted to cry in shame. 

At the price of an incommensurable effort and weird contortions, you finally managed to tug your shirt over your head while carefully trying not to move your limp left arm and shoulder; the gesture still wrenched a muffled cry of pain out of you. Slumping on your desk, you let out a ragged breath with the ruined shirt in hand, exhausted by the mere action of pulling it out. 

A knock on the door suddenly echoed in your room, immediately bringing a snarl on your already wincing face, “Go the fuck away!” you shouted to the unknown intruder, but your voice came out more like a rasp than anything menacing. 

Indeed, the threat fell out empty because the door swung open anyway, revealing a panicked Tyler. He looked absolutely feral with panicked concern, his hair slightly disheveled and ragged breathing like he had run. He still looked in better shape than you did though, even if it wasn’t hard right now. With your left arm limp and the bruises scattering around your upper body to your hips, added to the scratch marks and mud the ground left on your right cheek, disheveled hair and fresh cuts all over your hands, you looked like you just had crawled yourself out of Hell. Maybe it would have been more pleasant. 

You didn’t even mind Tyler’s eyes checking you out for any injuries as you were only in your bra and dirty jeans – frankly you were too tired to care. 

“Wh’t ‘re you doing h’re?” you mumbled, trying to push down the throbbing pain coursing through your body. 

“Checking on you,” he answered, closing the door behind him before rushing to your side,  “fuck what happened out there, you disappeared and Enid told us something happened, are you alright?” 

A hand came to hold your arm but you hissed in pain as soon as he touched it and slapped his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you barked, and despite you best judgement you cowered away by reflex. 

Tyler’s eyes widened, taken aback by the wounded animal behavior that definitely wasn’t yours. He took a step back, raising both of his hands in a peaceful gesture, “I’m not going to hurt you I promise,” he uttered softly; he caught your shifty gaze and the way you cradled your left arm close to you, “your arm?” he asked slowly. 

You held his gaze for a few seconds, eyes burning with anger and tortuous ache that poisoned your limbs. Swallowing down another threat, you finally nodded reluctantly. “Shoulder,” you muttered in defeat, “it’s dislocated.” 

Tyler almost choked on his own air, as the realization of how violent the fight must have been for you to end up in such a state sinked in him; before he could add something, you gestured him to help you with your good hand. 

“Help me up,” you breathed out weakly, and he rushed to support you without a word. Clumsily maneuvering the two of you to your bathroom, you tugged off him in front of the door. 

“Where’s your first aid kit?” he asked, eyes searching inside of the small room while you stood at the entrance. He didn’t notice you positioning yourself so that your bad shoulder faced the wall. 

“Won’t need it,” you grumbled and gripped the door frame for support. 

Tyler turned around to protest but he barely had time to open his mouth in horror with the realization of what happened; taking a deep breath you slammed your shoulder against the wall in one sharp, strong hit. A loud ‘plop’ echoed as your dislocated shoulder fell in place again and a strangled cry of pain escaped your lips, fingers gripping hard on the door frame. 

You let out a low moan. “Motherfucker,” you swore under your breath, rotating your shoulder articulations slowly, feeling it coming to life again. The ache still stung like a bitch, but at least it would wear off within the next few minutes. 

Tyler still looked slightly terrified by what just happened, “How- are you okay?” he urged, finally reconnecting to reality. 

“I’ll be fine,” you groaned. 

Brushing past him you grabbed a towel, wetting it before swiping it over your face to remove the mud and blood. At least nothing on your face seemed to be broken, but the marks would remain for at least a week. 

“Are you sure?” pressed Tyler from behind, and you huffed in annoyance, anger boiling in your veins once more. 

“Yes I’m sure! For fuck’s sake Tyler I had worse I can take care of myself, I don’t need your fucking pity!”

The anger lash out took him off-guard, and a flash of hurt even passed in his eyes. You hadn’t snapped at him like that for a long time, it was like you were back to the first time you both met. But since then things had gone better, smoother between the two of you – even with the occasional flirting and sarcastic comments. The sudden hatred directed toward him hurt Tyler. 

“I just want to help you,” he tried to explain calmly but you wouldn’t hear any of it and pushed him out of your bathroom forcefully. 

“I don’t want your bloody help, fuck! How many times do I have to tell you this?” you yelled at him, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. 

This time he scoffed and his eyes turned dark, “What? he sneered, “because I’m a monster? And I thought we were past this, sweetheart.”

“Get. The fuck. Out,” you snarled, trembling with anger. He didn’t listen to you. 

“Y/N Van Helsing needs no one, that’s true,” he taunted with a provocative smirk, approaching closer to you in the exact opposite of what you had asked him, “she’s all big and bad and doesn’t need anyone, right? How does that sound, doll?”

“Don’t,” you warned him between your teeth. 

“Funny, I thought all of this flirting would have been to use me. Guess you’re just a slut then, mmh?”

“Watch your fucking tone Tyler.”

It didn’t stop him. Now your back was almost touching the wall, trapped between it and the menacing looming figure of Tyler. He hovered over you, gazing intently with cold eyes; a mix of hurted anger, bitterness and playfulness in them. “You’re just a prideful cold-hearted bitch in the end,” he spat, “always pushing away help because you think you’re so fucking better than us, uh?”

“You know nothing about me,” you snarled bitterly, but he carried on anyway. 

“Thinking you can play smart with everyone but cowering that when anyone’s proposing their help,” he mused, “why that doll, uh?”

“BECAUSE I’VE NEVER HAD ANY,” you roared at him, the last string of self-control finally snapping. 

For a second, everything fell silent in the room. The tension that had been built up was so close to breaking, but none of you even dared to release the slightest breath, faces mere inches from each other’s. Like who would dare to tear apart the deafening silence and who would break under all of this unforgiving pressure that had been growing and growing for weeks. Tyler’s eyes had widened slightly at your outburst; when they glanced ever so slightly to your parted lips, you lost it. 

Grabbing his neck, you crashed his lips against yours, unable to hold it any longer. All the flirting and resulting tension had reached their breaking point as much as your self-control to his cocky comments, pretty face and soft heart. 

A groan immediately muffled by your lips escaped his, and the kiss turned into a heated clash of teeth, tongues and asserting dominance. Fuck the Poe cup, fuck Bianca and Yokok, fuck his pity; fuck him. Nothing else mattered but the rough pull of his lips against yours and the feeling of his body pinning you against the wall. Tyler’s hand roamed over your hips, gripping them tightly and pulling you flush against him. It didn’t take long for you to moan against his mouth and your hand got loose in his hair, giving a harsh tug on his curly strands. This elicited a grunt mixed with a laugh from him, as he pulled back from your lips ever so slightly. 

“Careful sweetheart,” he teased in a hushed tone, “you’re on thin ice there.” 

As an answer, you tugged on his roots again and a low moan of both pleasure and pain erupted from his mouth. Ghosting your lips over the column of his now exposed throat, you playfully licked a long stripe over his jugular, “Make me,” you taunted before sinking your teeth at the base of his throat. 

A soft whimper escaped and Tyler’s grip on your hips became even tighter. The rough surface of his calloused hands roamed over your naked back, kneading on every curve and scars. You didn’t stop sucking on the soft skin of his neck when you felt the claps of your bra getting loosened, pressing yourself harder against him instead and gasping softly when you instinctively rolled your hips against his. Burying his face against your neck, Tyler tried to refrain himself from moaning. But when you did that again, pressing your clothed core against his, one of his hands left your lips to grip the side of your face and harshly brought your lips back on his, muffling those pretty sounds. The delicious feeling of the hard swelling in his pants made you grin and you teasingly bit on his lower lip. Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, the sight of his flustered face, the faint blush on his cheeks bringing out his freckles and scars, and the animalistic hungry look in his eyes was the hottest thing you had seen for a long time, you almost moaned on the spot. The feeling of his hips bucking into you in reflex sent a thrill straight to your throbbing core, you could already feel yourself getting wet. Letting go of his abused lip, you captured his mouth into a quick heated kiss before trailing open-mouthed kisses on his jaw, knuckles turning white as your hands gripped his neck and back – which wasn’t so unpleasant to him, judging by the soft groans he let out. He tried to mirror your actions, hands caressing and gripping your bare back, roaming on every inch of skin under them. 

At the tracing of his fingertips on the rough and irregular surface on your right scapula, you groaned a little, slightly parting yourself away from him for a split of a second. But the immediate loss of contact elicited a frustrated grunt for Tyler and his hands roughly landed on your ass, bringing you back flush against him, grinding against your clothed heated core. Moaning under his touch, you couldn’t help but grin at the ever growing swell you felt against your thigh as his head was once again buried in your neck; his breath was ragged, febrile with raw desire. Gasping lightly at his grip on your ass, you leaned up to whisper in his ear: 

“Who’s a slut now, pretty boy?” 

The usual flirty nickname sent a rush of blood straight down his dick; it only made you grin even harder. A dark chuckle escaped his lips and he lifted his head up, lips teasingly brushing against yours. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, doll,” he grinned lazily, squeezing your butcheeks. 

Cocking your head to the side, you mirrored his expression and stuck your tongue out, licking your lips tantalizingly slowly, “Who said I didn’t want to finish you, tiger?”. 

A spark of desire flashed behind his blown out pupils at your words as your hand traveled down his chest, nails raking on his skin over the fabric. Then without a warning your hand disappeared between the two of you, and you popped open the button of his jeans eliciting a choked-on low moan from Tyler when you palmed his length through his boxers. 

“The question is,” you whispered in his ear, relishing how he shivered under your gripping touch, “can you finish me, lover boy?”

Out of the sudden your hand was ripped off his jeans and your back slammed against the wall, wrists pinned on each side of your head. Tyler’s gaze burned hungrily with desire, your words having pulled off all the restraints out of the window. He looked absolutely feral, and that sent a rush of excitement right down your spine – and to your core. 

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you sweetheart,” he chuckled darkly. 

You moaned shamelessly, rolling one of your shoulders to make one of the straps of your bra fall over your shoulder. Tyler’s eyes hungrily trailed down and followed as the previously unclipped fabric fell and revealed your naked breast. You couldn’t help but feel your lips stretch into a delighted grin, the previous events of the day long gone in your mind now. 

“Big words but no action so far,” you teased him, playfully eyeing his raging boner under his jeans, “need a hand with that?” 

Letting go of your wrists one after the other, Tyler chuckled and hooked his fingers on your hoop belts, tugging you flush against him, “I’d rather have you using  your mouth, doll.” 

Tossing your bra somewhere in the room you gave him a flirtatious smirk, “It’ll depend on how you’ll be using yours, lover boy.”

Tyler flashed you a feral grin before ducking to your chest and captured one of your nipples in his mouth. The sweet kisses of his tongue against your bundle made you sigh, head rolling against the wall. Your unused hands clumsily tried to fiddle with the zipper of his pants but a long moan escaped your throat when he cupped both of your breasts, one thumb circling the unattended nipple teasingly while he busied his tongue twirling around the other. You felt yourself getting even more wet in arousal, the sensation of his lips dancing over your chest being frustratingly pleasant. When you tried to roll your hips again to gain some friction, his hand grabbed them, steadying roughly. 

Tyler looked up from your chest, teasingly lapping on one of your erect nipples, “Eager now, doll?”

Glaring at him, you tried to not sound as needy as you were, “Stop teasing.”

With a grin he let go of your breasts and dropped on his knees, trailing kisses down your belly, nipping at the soft skin under your belly button. Helping him with the zipper of your jeans, both of your hands covered his, guiding him when he started to tug your pants down, his thumbs hooked on the side of your panties to pull them down at the same time. Your breath hitched a little when your pants fell on the floor, leaving you completely bare in front of Tyler. The sight of your pussy, so wet with arousal and so his to take was so fucking hot to him, and he felt his dick twitch painfully in his pants. He glanced up playfully at you, and you felt your cheeks heat a little at his silent question. 

Are you this wet for me sweetheart? 

Without breaking eye contact with you, he helped you pull your pants off completely, raising one of your legs then the other before tossing the piece of fabric away. His left hand stayed on your leg, caressing your inner thigh surprisingly softly before diving in and giving one hard, quick lick on your glistening cunt. A long moan erupted from your throat and your head rolled against the wall, back arching on the brick. It didn’t take more to Tyler to start ravishing your pussy, licking and nipping at it like a starved man. 

“Fu-uck!” you moaned hotly, not caring how loud you were, “just there– ah!” 

The sudden contact of his tongue around your clit cut the air from your lungs for an instant, before you let another long moan. Hands firmly gripping on your thighs, Tyler smirked to himself, thrusting his tongue deeper to your hot center, juices dripping down his chin. A strong stroke of his tongue made you buck your hips into his mouth, your right hand flying to his hair, grasping for your dear life through ragged breath. Your grip on the back of his head hardened, pushing him closer to your dripping cunt, his nose bumping against your clit and making your eyes flutter in pleasure. 

“Don’t anh– don’t stop,” you whimpered in a lust-filled wavering voice, “shit I’m coming, I’m–”

White flashed behind your eyelids as a wave of pleasure crashed within you, setting the blood in your veins on fire as you let out a loud high-pitched cry. The grinding of your hips didn’t slow down, chasing your own release at an erratic pace between greedy whines. Your other hand blindly searched for the door frame on your left, trying to get some grounding through the earth-shattering orgasm Tyler’s restless tongue was blessing you with. The strong grip on your shivering tights prevented your buckling knees from collapsing under you. 

With one final strangled cry, the high of your orgasm finally started to wear off, leaving you panting against the wall and legs quivering. But Tyler didn’t seem to be one doing things halfway, and he carried on his ministrations, kitten licks on your abused cunt to help you through the remainder of the orgasm. 

Loosening your grip on his head you ran your fingers through his hair as you tried to regain your breath, “Good boy,” you cooed, gently petting his hair, “you did so good, lover boy.” 

Tyler chuckled, dropping one last sloppy kiss on your pussy before trailing up, getting up slowly to capture your lips with his. You opened your lips to his, tasting your own juices as his tongue curled around yours. His hand snuck around your hips, keeping you close – and taking the opportunity to playfully squeeze your butcheek. An amused chuckle left your lips, wits returning as your mind became less lust-clouded. 

“Not bad, tiger,” you grinned, pressing another peck on his lips. “But you’re still awfully overdressed.”

That made him chuckle too, but before he could sass something back you were already tugging his shirt over his head, throwing it on the pile of your own clothes. Crashing your lips against Tyler’s in another heated kiss, you pushed him backward, maneuvering the two of you in your bed’s direction. Although it was a rather clumsy attempt, because you two became quickly entrapped into another surge of pleasure, your gestures became hurried again and fingers fumbling with Tyler’s pants. When the back of your knees hit your bed, you reluctantly let go of Tyler to lay down on your mattress. The freckled boy used this to shove down his pants, taking his boxer along. His cock sprung free, angry red and leaking with precum hitting against his stomach. Eyeing him shamelessly you bit your lip in appreciation. So there weren’t any more scars under his shirt, but what he got was definitely better.

“Like what you see?” teased Tyler, climbing on the bed, hovering above you. 

“Looks promising, lover boy,” you grinned, fisting the hair at the base of his neck to bring him down to a kiss. 

“Condoms?” he asked between lips biting and heated kisses. 

“I have an implant,” you breathed out, trying to fight the urge to slam his hips against yours, “you’re clean?”. He nodded and you gave him a roguish smile, “Then what are you waiting for, tiger?”

Tyler grinned and dove on your lips, ravishing them with the same passion he had sweetly tortured your cunt before. The tip of his cock nudged against your entrance, coating your juices. But the impatience and horniness grew stronger and without any warning you locked your legs with Tyler’s and flipped him over. His back crashed into the mattress and his eyes widened for a moment; but then he grinned at your naked figure straddling him, hovering him in a sensual vision. 

“Well, here we go again sweetheart,” he mused, “I’m starting to think you like to be on top of me.”

Sliding a hand between your bodies you gripped his hard cock, giving it a playful yet harsh enough stroke to elicit a pained moan from him, “Don’t worry lover boy, you’ll like me on top of you too,” you purred in his ear.

Lining yourself with his length you latched his lips between yours in a bruising kiss before lowering yourself on him, moaning loudly against his mouth at the delicious stretch. Tyler’s hand gripped your hips tightly, knuckles turning white as he threw his head back in pleasure, eyelids half closed. The feeling of your wet pussy sucking him made his eyes roll at the back of his head, a deep guttural moan breaking from his lips. Pressing your chest against his you spread your legs further, taking him even deeper until his pubic bone hit your clit, making you swore hotly in his ear. 

 “Fuck,” you whispered feverishly while gripping his shoulder, “you’re so big, filling me so well lover boy.” 

The praise made his cock twitch inside of you, and a low rumble echoed from his chest before he bucked his hips up, tearing up a high pitched whimper from you. That made the both of you snap. Circling your hips, you started to ride him at an unforgiving pace, clenching your walls around Tyler’s dick and moaning shamelessly in his ear. Under you Tyler was a trembling mess, bucking his hips upward to meet yours, his low moans vibrating and sending shivers to your nipples pressed his chest. His cock pressed deep inside you on that sweet spot that made you see stars and you let out a muffled cry in ecstasy. 

Tyler grinned between pants, “Getting enough of my cock now, sweetheart? Riding as if your life depends on it like the slut you are.” 

A merciless grind of your hips made him choke on his words. The hand that had been resting on the back of his neck slid on his throat and you squeezed, angling up his face to you. The pressure on his windpipe was enough to make his breath short, but not enough to be dangerous; the edging and power play sent a rush of blood directly to his dick and a pornographic moan left his lips. This, combined with his the utterly fucked up expression draped over his face, bruised lips parted and cheeks flushed, sent a shiver down your spine and you felt getting even wetter than you already possibly were, milking Tyler’s cock messily. 

A sharp buck of his hips slightly changed the angle and his length hit deep, sending a hot wave of pleasure in you again. Grounding your knees on the mattress you started to bounce on his cock, not even recognizing your own voice anymore in the mix of moans and groans filling the room. The hand around Tyler’s throat squeezed even harder, just as your pussy walls clenched around his throbbing length, feeling the familiar heat building in the pit of your stomach. 

“I’m close,” you moaned loudly, not caring if anyone heard, “I’m so fucking close, Tyler–”

“Come on doll,” he rasped seductively in your ear, “come all over my cock, give me that pretty pussy of yours.” 

Whimpering almost pathetically, you continued bouncing on his abused length, chasing after your release erratically. Tyler slid his thumb between your bodies, finding your clit and flicking it. Seconds later, you were bucking your hips on his cock brutally, milking it as your second orgasm crashed through you. Tyler held you close as you rode through your orgasm, kneading on your flesh – no doubt leaving marks. A soft cry broke through your lips, hips stilling for a second before bucking lazily against his still hard length. 

Two firm hands gripped your back and you suddenly found yourself flipped over again, hitting the mattress with force. Hand still around his throat you gazed at Tyler through your lashes, heavy with lusted haze. With a sharp thrust of his hip he entered back into you, eliciting a raw moan from you. 

“I’m not finished with you yet, doll,” he grinned teasingly before starting to buck against you, thrusting harshly without mercy. 

Your head rolled on the side over your pillow, surrendering to the hot burning pleasure of Tyler’s pounding on your aching core. Letting go of his throat, your hand slid over his jaw, caressing his scared cheek with your thumb and making him look at you. His brown eyes gazed into your glossy lust-filled ones, taking in your panting and blissful expression like it was the most beautiful art composition in the world. Your thumb rolled over his lower lip, and he couldn’t help but nipping playfully at it. 

Throwing one of your legs across his hip, you dug your heel on his back, bringing him closer to him to help him get his own release, no matter how hard he was already pounding into you. Hiding his face in your neck, Tyler’s ragged breath mixed with moans and his cock twitched painfully inside you, feeling himself getting close to cumming. Feeling it too, you arched your back, pressing yourself even closer against his hard body. 

“That’s it, give it to me,” you chanted, “fill me with your cum, tiger.”

A low groan escaped his lips, muffled against your neck and his hips gave a couple of harsh thrusts before releasing himself in you. Moaning hotly in your ear he spilled in your cunt, hot ropes of cum filling you as you held him close, legs crossed behind his thighs. Cradling his sweaty body against yours, you felt him give a few more lazy thrusts, before half collapsing on top of you. 

Ragged breath and softly tuned down whimpers filled the room, the contact of your naked skins on each other helping you match the other’s calming heartbeat. After a solid minute of silence, you slightly rolled on the side, gesturing to Tyler to get off of you; his body was starting to weigh on your ribcage. Getting the message, he carefully rolled over, making you both hiss slightly when he pulled his softening length out of you. 

Falling on your back you let out a long sigh, closing your eyes for a second and draping your arm over them. The pleasing ache in your body slowly mixed with the exhaustion sinking in, and every inch of your body felt heavy like bricks. 

Next to you, the mattress dipped awkwardly and Tyler pondered if he should go away right now. A hand clumsily searching for his own blindly answered him, and he looked at you in surprise. 

An arm still draped over your eyes, you mumbled, “Stay.”

The very brief second of hesitation vanished out of his mind the moment he saw a single, glossy tear rolling down your cheek. 

“Please,” you rasped weakly. 

The sight made his heart squeeze painfully. He thought he had seen all the sides of you today, but he had never seen you being this vulnerable. So he slid back next to you, and pulled the duvet over the both of you. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised in a whisper, caressing the hand holding his. 

For the first time, you were glad you weren’t alone right now.

[Part.5] 

A/N: I said what I’ve said, and I’m not taking anything back lmao; yes post Hyde!Tyler had a praising kink and a thing for dirty talk, fight me on this krkrkrkr

Also, did I search for Edgar Allan Poe’s poems to find new teams for the Poe cup? Absolutely. Here how I pictured the teams: Annabel Lee (1849) = about his wife, so I made Ophelia Hall’s girls dress as corpse bride The city in the sea (1831) = about Death sitting on a strange throne, thought that grim reapers outfits could suit former Jesters aka Xavier’s team Evening star (1827) = a makeup with blue foundation and little stars would be SO PRETTY and even if she’s not competing in this chapter I could picturing it fitting Bianca perfectly, so the other girl’s dorm The raven (1845) = self explanatory, the second boys’ dorm dressed as ravens

Thanks everyone for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥ Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist: 

@igotanidea​ @officerrrfriendly​ @beggingforxavierthorpe​ @aliciahlewis​ @stresseyzesty​ @katiemrty​ @leightonsteele​ @black-swan-blog27​ @mooniesthings​

Usernames unfound by Tumblr: 

@spiceyhotsherbet

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin fanfic #tyler galpin angst #tyler galpin smut #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #Van Helsing! Reader #no beta we die like men

[anophelei]

Because @is-the-owl-video-cute is most likely a coward and will neither apologise or even acknowledge the ask I sent, here it is so that maybe some people will see it + it recounts all the bullshit so anyone unaware can see

So that everyone's on the same page let's go back to the original post

Now, when this was posted a lot of people took issue with it, told you so, outlined why you were wrong about what you said, as well as explaining how you were using AGAB terminology in a dehumanising and incorrect way. Here is one of them:

Judging by your response to me, I imagine you were just as dismissive and rude as you were to me. I wasn't remotely hostile, just saying "just admit you worded things badly" as well as pointing out their response to another ask was making you look bad, and came off as defensive.

So you doubled down on it twice now and refused to even entertain the idea that multiple people pointing out that you made a mistake, might mean you made a mistake.

Since then the post in the first screenshot has circulated pretty far, mostly the version with various additions from trans women pointing out the came issues, and while I'm not going to count the number of reblogs that are other trans people, particularly trans women, reblogging that version, out of the ones I've checked it was 100%.

So yeah people are taking you to task for repeatedly doubling down on this, being incredibly shitty to anyone who pointed out the issue, cast some bitter aspersions about the people doing so, and ultimately just being a dismissive prick about things. I do not know why you are surprised.

In response to seeing all this shit after checking your response to my initial reply, I responded, because genuinely fuck you.

Now, literally all you have to do is fucking apologise. That's all you've had to do this entire fucking time, but no, instead of actually listening when people politely told you that you'd made a mistake, you've doubled, tripled, quadrupled, god knows how many times down.

Hell there was even another person who I don't know, in addition to the one I already don't know, just an hour ago who follows you, being incredibly fucking patient with you about this and asking why you're being such a tremendous asshole, and you respond to them like this ????

Bravo, get over yourself. Also nobody gives a shit about your AGAB, to whoever it was saying this is about you not disclosing it ? I haven't disclosed mine either, why would anyone care about that. Gonna post this myself too just so you don't ignore it like the petulant child you've proven to be would.

If you truly are so incredible as your ego seems to tell you, literally just make a post apologising for the mistake. Next time, you could even apologise when people initially point it out.

#is-the-owl-video-cute #transmisogyny #transphobia #free the nipple

[imarvelatthestars]

Conscience

Pairings: Clone Trooper Veteran (from Kenobi) x f!Reader

Warnings: Tai's struggling with extreme self-hatred, some PTSD, survivor's guilt, etc.

Notes: Just a few more chapters left in the series! (Although knowing me, I might add more.) I'm so thankful to everyone who's stuck around through my absences. Tai's story means so much to me and I'm honored to share it with you all.

[previous chapter] [next chapter]

He thinks he's going to be sick. They're on a transport, they're hurtling farther and farther away from Daiyu every second, but Tai can't help the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. He'd finally found something worth fighting for, someone worth living for, and of course he's gone and screwed it up. He just had to go out with you, had to show you off for all the galaxy to see as if he didn't have the most recognizable face in the entire blasted universe. He had to go out of his way to be a fucking idiot and now where's it gotten him, you?

You're huddled together in the cargo hold of a transport that's seen better days and smelled better ones, too. Everything important the pair of you owns is on your backs and when he finally looks at you, really looks at you where you're burrowed into his side, he sees that you're shivering.

"Hey." His arm moves around your shoulders unconsciously. Instinct. It's the first time he's properly touched you since Cody smuggled the pair of you in here. He's felt too tainted to even try.

"I'm okay," you whisper as your eyes dart up, heavy-lidded and bloodshot. "Just a little cold."

Tai swallows. This is all his fault. He doesn't even know what he's doing right now. You shouldn't be here. You should be back in bed, snuggled under the covers and snoring, and maybe, maybe if you're feeling gracious enough, merciful enough, you might let him curl his arms around you and find shelter in your warmth for the night. As if he fucking deserves that. He doesn't deserve bantha shit. He almost got you killed today.

"You have anything warm in your pack?" he asks, and the voice that comes out of him sounds like a stranger's.

You gesture to the knitted sweater you're currently wearing. "This is all I have." You sound surprisingly chipper, like you're not even bothered by your current predicament, like you're commenting on the weather or- "Hey. You okay?"

The horrible nauseous feeling falters for a moment as Tai realizes you're watching him. He clears his throat, sits up a little straighter, and musters up as much of a smile as he can. "Yeah. I'm alright, s-... I'm alright." He wanted to call you sweetheart, but the word tastes bitter in his mouth. He's tainted it, like he's done to everything else he touches.

"No, you're not."

You've always had this uncanny ability of seeing through him and catching onto the shattered pieces of him he leaves lying around, picking up his trail until it leads you back to him. It was stupid to think you wouldn't pick up on it this time.

"It's fine."

Your entire face drops into a frown. "Tai."

He spots Cody out of the corner of his eye and has to bite his tongue to keep from snapping at you. Not in front of the Commander. Maker, this is the worst he's felt in months, maybe even years. It's one thing to be harassed, he's been harassed by those damn TKs since the Empire came to power, it's nothing new, but it's another thing entirely to be harassed and embarrassed in front of you. Treated like the cannon fodder he's always been and for you to see it. And then for the Commander to have to smuggle him out of there, to realize that Tai's always been a coward in hiding, desperately clawing out a home for himself in the leftovers the galaxy has thrown at him. To see him holed up in a shitty apartment with a civvie. It goes against everything that the GAR trained them to be.

It's just another reminder that he's a failure.

When you press him again, he takes a moment, takes a deep breath before looking you head on. Properly. Finally. "Not now. Please."

There's something in your eyes he can't place. He's seen you scared before, confused, angry, disappointed, but this is different. It's simultaneously all of them and none at the same time. You seem to swallow your own thoughts before speaking again. "I'm here for you. You know that."

He nods. Of course he knows. He's never been more grateful for anything in his entire life.

"Don't shut me out." He bristles a bit when you reach for his hand and he can see how much it hurts you. It's carved into your face in an instant. "Please don't."

The transport shudders around you both and Tai looks to Cody. It's not a conscious thought, but it's burned into his very soul to defer to his commanding officer. Cody grunts as he pushes himself to stand, checking the chrono on his arm and pursing his lips as he thinks.

"Looks like we're arriving a bit early."

"Think it means anything, sir?" He tries not to think about the strange look you fix him with.

Cody huffs. He rests a hand on his blaster. "Guess we'll find out."

Tatooine is a fucking wasteland. You've never heard or known much about it, other than it being under the control of the Hutts and a breeding ground for spice runners and addicts. That and the slavery. But you hadn't been expecting sand.

There's so much of it. Everywhere you look, sand. Yellow and burning hot and rough on your skin. It's already blowing into your eyes within 10 paces of exiting the transport. The heat is even worse. You first caught a glimpse of two suns before Cody lead you out of the docking bay and your view of the sky was cut off. No wonder it's kriffing hot.

Now you're walking the streets, blending in amongst travelers and tradespeople and speeders. You've only ever seen pictures of banthas before. You never realized they were so humongous. And there are less humanoids here than you're used to on Daiyu. Droids, Jawas, and a dozen other species you can't even name are meandering in and out of cantinas, marketplaces, hopping in and out of speeders.

It's a lot. All of this is a lot. Just a few hours ago, you and Tai were out on a date. You were planning on a romantic night in after dinner, maybe even calling off work just to steal an extra few moments with him. Now you're a fugitive. Your face was plastered all over the city before you left. Yours and Tai's.

He's been off all night. Day now, technically. Not that you blame him, of course, because he did get harassed and assaulted by stormtroopers. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's upset about it and you wouldn't be surprised if it had triggered some of his trauma from the war. You want to help him, remind him that everything's gonna be okay (even though you're not entirely sure it will be), but he's distant. Shying away from your touch, avoiding your eyes, barely speaking a word to you unless necessary.

Does he blame you?

Your entire body goes cold, double suns be damned. Of course he does. If you hadn't punched that trooper, none of this would have happened.

"In here," Cody gruffs and it snaps you out of your head, "quick."

It's a house of some kind. You've never seen anything quite like it, not on your home planet and certainly not on Daiyu. The roof is domed and the walls are thick, made out of some kind of plaster maybe or brick, but the interior is cool. The house looks empty with hardly any signs of life beyond the barest of furnishings.

Cody's planted himself by the door, one hand on his blaster and the other braced on the wall. He's practically bursting with soldier energy, the kind you've only ever seen glimpses of in Tai. You're seeing a lot more of it now. You see it in the ridge of his shoulders, the light behind his eyes, not quite right, not quite him, the firm set of his jaw. You've never seen him so alert before. You've also never seen him hold a weapon, but the borrowed blaster Cody gave him lends him a certain aura that's hard to figure out.

"I don't think we were followed," Cody says a few minutes later and you finally feel like you can breathe. He untucks the flap of his poncho so that it covers his blaster again, then steps a little further into the house. "We'll stay here tonight, make for Mos Espa tomorrow morning."

Tai nods and moves to the dining table where he shucks off his pack and his coat. His movements are quick and precise. He falls into the role of a soldier easily. He doesn't look at you and he doesn't ask questions.

But you have a lot of questions. You have so many questions that your brain hurts.

"What's in Mos Espa?"

Cody looks at you from under his lashes. He looks so much like Tai that it's uncanny, he even moves with that same soldier gait, but he doesn't look at you like Tai does. You look at him and you see a stranger. "Another spaceport. It's too dangerous to leave from this one, they'll be looking for us there."

"Wait." Your head starts spinning. "We're leaving again?"

He shakes his head. "Not quite. Tatooine's remote, off the grid, the Empire isn't too focused on this place, but on the off chance that they followed us here, it's best to keep moving so they can't find us." His focus shifts to Tai then. They start talking logistics, strategies, transportation and timing, but it's all white noise to you.

You flitter in and out of total awareness as your body begins to move on autopilot. You're sweating, so you take off your sweater. Best to fold it so it doesn't get wrinkled. You're thirsty, so you meander in the direction of the kitchen, start poking around for glasses and a faucet. While you're in here, you might as well see what food there is. You're not hungry at the moment and you're not even sure if you can stomach food right now, but you and the two soldiers in the other room will need something soon to keep up your strength.

Right, the two soldiers. The two strangers you're holed up with. The man you love and the man who wears his face, shares his body and voice. You've always known that Tai's a clone, after all he wears clone armor, he's a clone wars veteran, but it never really occurred to you just what being a clone meant. Now you're faced with the reality of it.

Tai's still Tai, but Cody looks so much like him. If you close your eyes, their voices blend together until you can't tell them apart. They're the same height, tall and broad and a little thick in the middle, but you've always liked that about your weary old veteran. The same dusting of black and gray hair on their arms, probably the same on Cody's chest as it is on Tai's. Cody keeps his face clean shaven, though, doesn't even let a hint of stubble grow in. His hair is longer and is nicely groomed, but you can see some tighter coils poking through the gel. Kind of like Tai's hair before he cut it.

The biggest difference is, ironically enough, their faces. Cody has a massive scar on one side of his face. You wonder how he got it. The only facial scars Tai has are the one on his chin - from a blast during his first battle - and another on his neck where he nicked himself shaving. But they both have the same heaviness in their eyes. You recognize it from late nights soothing trauma-induced nightmares.

"Hey."

You aren't sure which of them is speaking to you at first. You're not sure you like it. But you hum in response and turn to acknowledge him.

"You alright?"

A scruffy goatee and weary eyes. You know this clone. You think you do, you hope you do.

It takes you a minute to respond. Your mind feels far away. "Mm. Yeah, I'm okay."

Tai lifts a brow and it's the most familiar thing you've seen him do in forever. "You look tired, my love."

Something warm curls around your heart, gentle and strong enough to encourage a prickling along your waterline. You didn't realize until now just how much you missed him, how much you missed the two of you. You look up into those big brown eyes, a shade lighter than kaf and a shade darker than the earthen floor of this little house, and you immediately have to look away when yours start watering.

"I am," you mumble.

"Go get some sleep. You've had a long day."

What about you? you want to ask. Won't you come to bed with me? But you know deep in your gut that he won't go with you. He's punishing himself. He's an idiot to think you can't see through him, but you won't push him on it, not in front of Cody, not right now. You're honestly too mentally exhausted to even try.

You still cry when you tuck yourself into the tiny cot at the back of the house. There's a couple doors between you and the men, and you're quiet, so they won't hear you. All you know for sure is that you're more lost than you've ever been and you're terrified you're losing him, too.

"There's not too many of us left now."

Tai runs his palm across his face. "I thought I might be the last one." It hurts to say it out loud, to finally vocalize this fear that's been eating away at him for Maker knows how long.

The Commander makes a face akin to a smile, but there's no humor behind it. "Not yet, you're not. The Empire couldn't get rid of all of us."

No, but they certainly tried. It's an unspoken understanding that hangs in the air for a while. Tai suddenly wishes he had a glass of spotchka. He wishes a lot of things.

"So." Cody shifts forward in his seat so his elbows are resting on his knees, chin in against his hands. "How'd you meet her?"

Dammit. This is the kind of questioning he was really hoping to avoid. There's nothing for Cody to find but shame and disappointment. He could try to lie, of course, and he considers it for a moment, but he's always been shit at lying. A lot of the boys in the 501st were shit liars. Now he's the last of them and he fucking wishes he wasn't.

"It's a long story," he tries.

"We have all night." Cody smiles a bit more genuinely this time, but it drifts soon after when he senses his brother's discomfort. "You don't have to tell me, vod. But she's... she's nice."

You are. And he hangs his head in shame because look at what he's done to you.

"She's the best thing that's ever happened to me." It comes out unbidden, but he doesn't regret saying it. "Took me in when I had nothing." For a moment, he's back on Daiyu, gazing up at you, awed, confused, mortified because you took pity on him, saw him through all the filth and neon-lit spice fog. "I sure paid her back for it, didn't I?" he scoffs.

The wind howls outside, tossing sand against the walls of this new little hovel on another backwater planet, and Cody watches him for a moment in the dimly lit dining room.

"What happened out there, vod?"

Fuck, what didn't happen?

Tai's entire throat constricts when he finally finds the words. "I failed. I failed her, Commander, just like I failed our vode, like I failed Rex." He squeezes his eyes shut against the tears that are suddenly threatening to wash him away. He can't quite breathe. His fist smacks hard into his thigh as he twists his face away. "And now I've put her in danger. We were supposed to protect civilians, we were supposed to protect the Republic, and I can't do either."

Good soldiers follow orders. He jolts out of his chair, shaking. When will it stop, that voice in his head? When will it stop haunting him? Master Skywalker. No. There are too many of them. When will he be free of the nightmares? What are we going to do? And the padawan still falls at Skywalker's hands, and Tai is still covered in blood, and he's still a failure.

He starts when Cody rests a hand on his shoulder. He wants to fight it, he wants to hit something, he wants to scream and cry and beg for death because he knows he deserves nothing less. He betrayed the Jedi and to this day he still doesn't know why. He put you in danger, almost let those TKs get their hands on you, almost let you get shot, and still you gave up everything for him.

Cody holds him and Tai cries, and nothing is right anymore.

"We all have to live with the choices we made, the things we did during the war, and after it. But we were good men. We still are."

A question starts to burn in the back of his esophagus, bitter and painful as bile. "Did you kill them, too?"

The silence he's met with solidifies a lot of things for him - he's not alone in his shame or his grief, if the great Commander Cody fell to the nightmares and the whispers, then perhaps there was never any hope for a trooper like him, he has to let you go. That one stings the most because he's only just found you. He's never known love like this in all his life, never fathomed a kindness like yours before. You gave him hope when there was nothing left to hope for. He knows it's the right thing to do, though. You'll never be safe with him around.

Killer. Murderer.

There's something inside him that isn't quite right. It came out last night when the TKs rounded on you, cornered you, promised to show you a 'good time'. He saw red, felt his blood boil, felt the entire universe melt away until it was just his fist and the back of that trooper's head and he was going to smash it in for even daring to look your way, to try and scare you into submission. It was there that night you saw his nightmares for the first time, when he swore you were drenched in Jedi blood and he wanted to crush your head in his hands just to prove how utterly unlovable he was.

"Can you get her somewhere safe?"

Cody blinks at him. A sliver of eternity passes before he seems to understand. "Vod..."

"I can't stay with her." Memories start flashing across his mind's eye, unbidden and beautiful - the first time he called you sweetheart, he thinks it was the night he told you about his job, the night out at that bar and the kiss it wrought the next day, the first time he told you he loved you, the first time he touched you, the mug you bought him for late night teas and early morning kafs. "She deserves better, better than an old man like me can give her."

"Does she know that?"

Tai actually laughs. "She'd slap me for saying it. But it's true. I'll only get her killed in the end."

"Maybe," Cody muses. "Maybe you're not thinking clearly." He doesn't seem bothered by the flashing in his brother's eyes when they round on him. "Not all of us were as lucky as you, vod. Not all of us found someone willing to walk through the fire with us."

The wind howls again in the moments between Cody's wisdom and Tai's panic.

"For our brothers who lost the fight, the brothers that never found what you did." A hand rests over Tai's heart. "Don't push her away."

It's funny, really, how the littlest, simplest thing can change one's mind, how a single object can be the difference between one destiny and another.

He shucks your pack and his over his shoulders and shuffles as quietly as he can into the back room. You're snoring and sleeping pretty heavily by the sound of it, so you hopefully wont be disturbed when he slides in beside you.

He's still undecided about you, although Cody's advice is rattling around in his brain. He'll have to decide before you wake up. But then your pack tips over as he's taking off his boots and something goes clank inside. He frowns, leans down to pick it up, and just misses catching the metallic object half-wrapped in one of your blouses before it smacks on the floor.

Your breathing hitches, Tai swears his heart almost stops, and then you settle back into a steady rhythm. He unwraps the blouse. And there's his mug, the one you saw in a street vendor's shop. It's plain metal, all shiny and silver, but it's shaped vaguely like a lothcat. The handle has a pattern etched into it reminiscent of the ones many tookas sport on their tails.

"It reminded me of you," you'd explained. "Because a lothcat always seemed to have my tongue when we first started talking." Then you'd pecked him on the cheek and bowed your head all flustered and shy.

He's a fool. A damn fool. And he's still got one boot on when he twists and throws his arm over you, drags you into him so he can bury his face in your neck. You wake up fully this time and start squirming under him.

"Wha...? Mnh, Tai?" Your voice is drowsy and rough.

"I love you," he grunts against your skin. He's absolutely crying now. "I love you, sweetheart." He can't keep his hands off you, can't stop kissing every inch of you that he can reach. He has to commit you to memory so that the next time he gets an idiotic idea in his head, he can conjure up this moment and smack the stupid out of himself. "My sweet, wonderful, beautiful girl." Each word is punctuated with a wet kiss.

You have no clue what's going on and you're probably more asleep than awake, but he doesn't care. He'll shower you in love again the moment you wake up. He's never letting you out of his sight again, never letting himself doubt you, never getting stuck inside his own head ever again.

taglist: @moodymisty @arandomnerdsblog578 @jambolska-grozdova @curly-funk

#clone trooper x reader #clone trooper veteran x reader #clone trooper tai x reader #clone veteran x reader #keobi clone trooper #clone veteran #clone trooper tai #star wars #i struggled a bit with cody's characterization bc i don't write for him so i hope he came out in character #anyways uhhhhh i think i wrote this in like 4 hours? i just. could not stop thinking about them and this chapter #i know i said there would only be a few more chapters but honestly i don't know if i can say goodbye to them in like 3 chapters #this might end up being a legit full-on series #i have more plans for them so stay tuned!!

[slocumjoe]

could i get your take on what the companions (or just my favorite boy X6's) top 10 fave candies/foods would be in a modern AU?

anon you are in luck, because I am constantly thinking about the diets and eating habits of my blorbos

The numbered list isn't in any particular order, it's just so I don't have to manually count each point

so

What the companions would eat if not in a post apocalypse

Cait; Wouldn't have a taste for fancier cuisine. Eats more...hick-ish. I can say that because I was a hick with this kind of diet, growing up. Has a taste for filling, cheap, low-effort food...think lots of fast food, but "healthier" fast food. Like Chipotle, Panera, etc. Can cook, doesn't often, but will if she has a craving. Savory or tart tastes. She tends to eat lighter than you'd expect.

Blueberry brownie anything, favors dark chocolate in general

Submarine sandwiches, anything with pickles

Key lime pie

Salt and vinegar chips and thinks critics of such chips are cowards

Peach Redbull, any energy drinks though

Storebought hummus and Doritos, has been seen eating hummus with just a spoon though

Blueberry bread pudding. Simple to make, fun to eat, very comforting. Buys her bread already stale from a local bakery, has a guy to hook her up with the old shit

Seafood chowder

Sausages in any capacity. Jerky sticks, breakfast sausage, etc. Loves chorizo.

Honey buns from the gas station

Curie; Health nut, she eats like every influencer claims they eat like. Only, Curie actually eats like that. Lots of fresh foods and whole grains, little red meat. However, Curie makes a point to have foods that other health nuts would condemn, thinks its really important to not label any food as "bad." So, she balances between health nut and normal person. Her taste leans toward bright and/or sweet. Dislikes red meat.

Salmon breakfast wraps

Tropical fruit smoothies, eats so much pineapple

Iced tea, favors raspberry. Never seen without an iced tea of some kind

Halibut tacos, likes red cabbage and a fuck ton of lemon on it. Soft shells all the way

Bananas foster

Whipped brie dip, eats it with anything but loves it on apples, basically dessert

Lemon pepper grilled chicken and rice

So many salads, loves that you can just throw shit in a bowl and call it a recipe. Likes strawberries and almonds

Lemon poppyseed muffins

Shrimp and bitter melon stir fry

Danse; mixed bag. One on hand, small town diner tastes. Simple, cheap, good ol' American food. On the other, he's doomed to be a soldier in every universe he's in, so...maybe he picks up some tastes and dishes from places he's toured. Gets a weird pallate that shoots in all directions and makes you wonder what it's like in that thick skull. One day he's a good American boy with pancakes and steak, the next he's eating cake mix dry and drinking tahini from a flask.

Anything BBQ, but a pulled pork devotee

Hot coffee so heavily creamed and sugars it looks like milk. He likes the twix combo of chocolate, shortbread, and caramel flavors

Prepackaged baked goods a la Hostess, fucks up little Debbie oatmeal cookies

Apple and pecan pie

Menemen—Turkish dish, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, bell peppers, spices to taste, and (controversially) onions. Adds sausage and cheese, eats it with a fork or spoon (its meant to be eaten with bread)

Khachapuri—Georgian cheesy bread with egg. Eats with a knife and fork. (its meant to be eaten with the bread crust)

Smores pop tarts

Beef and potato stew

Rice bowl with fried egg and avocado, bonus points if it has bacon

Straight cookie dough/brownie/cake batter, usually when he's black out drunk and cannot shame himself out of eating raw egg products.

Deacon; Very childhood comfort food. Y'know, things you had as a kid, but probably grew out of a bit? Eats out of gas stations/takeout frequently. Very open flavor pallete, has tried everything he's had the chance to. Likes one-handed food, stuff you can have the other hand free for. Doesn’t really have a 'theme', has broad horizons for his diet. Likes lighter, mild flavors, though. He eats lightly and on the go a lot.

Hot/corn dogs, taste in hot dog toppings varies

Egg salad sandwiches

French fries and vanilla ice cream, classic combo

Mango sticky rice

Cornbread with any accompaniments. Likes honey or chili, thinks if you have a drink with cornbread, you ain't a real cornhead

Penne alla vodka

Cucumber salad. This could mean a salad with cucumbers, that trending Asian recipe where you cut the cumber so its springy, or eating a cucumber like a hotdog.

Fried mushrooms

Usually just drinks water but will have gator/powerade when he's working. Likes purple flavor

Captain crunch cereal, loves all cereal though. Prefers the kibble stuff to the berries. Starts philosophical debates about the morality of Trix commercials vs Lucky Charms commercials

Gage; His favorite foods reflect his upbringing. Coastal swamp cuisine, cheap and made in bulk. Take Danse's pallate and hyperlocalize it, and then lower the budget by a good amount. Things he grew up eating. Would gradually replace his favorites with pricier, 'less embarrassing' dishes, distances himself from his origins. However, takes care to not looked too loaded. Smokey and savory flavors are his thing, likes more spice than people expect.

Doberge cake, which is layered with pudding, often half-chocolate and half-lemon

Red beans and rice, with stewed pork if they could afford it

Blackened fish of any kind, liked it with cilantro-lime rice

Steak with potatoes and/or eggs

Chronic iced tea drinker like Curie, though he prefers the bitter kinds

Scallops

Brussels sprouts defender and will fight for their honor

Peaches

Was introduced to curry during a business meeting/outing. Could drink that shit from a glass, has it with potatoes and porkchops.

Lobster anything. This is one of those 'less embarresing' things, but he genuinely enjoys a good lobster roll. Even if he prefers a freshly-caught lobster bisque. Again, something he had growing up, something he pushes away.

Hancock; Similar to Deacon, but favors fatty, greasy food. No, it's not the drugs, that's just his metabolism. He's a skinny twink, always starving, can never put on weight. Eats as much as Danse, who is a big guy and needs more calories than most. He's really into street food and foreign dishes, won't eat at a restaurant if they speak fluent English or have good customer service. IYKYK. Very comfort food heavy, lots of "this would slap with Netflix at 2 am"

A classic oxtail, mac and cheese, and collard green take out combo

Any and all American-chinese take out, usually gets eggplant tofu with chow mein and cream cheese rangoons

"Walking tacos", those things where you open a small bag of chips and dump White People taco makings in. Probably just tips the whole thing into his mouth

Yakitori, Japanese chicken skewers, popular bar food

Bloody Mary cocktails

Pizza, will fight for the honor of pineapple. Would really be into how Brazil does pizza

Frozen yogurt and ice cream, piles with toppings

Breakfast sandwiches or wraps. Egg, meat, cheese, doesn't matter the time nor specifics.

Jam donuts, loves cherry fillings

Puppy chow/muddy buddies, chex cereal covered in chocolate and powdered sugar. Eats his weight in them if not careful

MacCready; forces himself to learn how to cook for Duncan's sake, but for himself...good God. It's horrible. Eats like garbage. Would never drink water if not to set an example. Take out, frozen food, so much candy and soda. After Duncan, broadens his horizons. Finds he really likes soups. Just throw shit in a pot and it works. Eats on a budget, so that's a life-saver. Doesn't have a preferred flavor pallete, aside from his love of candy.

Meat lover's pizza. Thinks pineapple has no place on pizza

Used to drink Mountain Dew and diet coke, replaced it with iced teas and more organic fruit juices for the sake of his teeth

Chicken soup, either from a can, or homemade. Either way, slaps. If homemade, blends veggies for a hidden veggie stock. For him, Duncan is a lot better at eating veggies, MacCready needs to trick himself.

Sour rainbow ropes

Cookie crisp cereal, thinks whoever came up with it deserved the sloppiest head. Incredible design, no notes

Cheese and sour cream chips

Famous Amos cookies

Eggo waffles

Gnocchi is God to him. Its superior to all noodles and makes your Shit In The Fridge soup 1000 times better.

Rice pudding is cheap, easy, and a surprisingly efficient sweet-tooth satisfier. Makes it with pumpkin spice mix or chocolate.

Nick; Home-cooked meals all the way. Could kill himself with cheese and die happy. Lots of easy meals and snacking so he can keep working, but will treat himself to a nice, hard-earned dinner when he has the time and energy. Likes himself the smokey, the fresh, or the sour. Probably knows all the best sub shops in the city, probably in a turf war with regulars of rival shops. Jewish delicatessens are like church to him.

Lasanga. Most of his freezer space is lasagna. Eats so much of it. He's lactose intolerant. It hurts but it hurts so good

Latkes. Fried potato things, kind of like hashbrowns, except the potato is mashed/ground instead of grated. And yes. Also pastrami. But those little potato bitches...mmmph.

Red velvet muffins with cream cheese frosting.

Fried cheese in any capacity

A prosciutto, arugula, brie, and fig sandwich

Pickled pearl onions

Cobb salad

Black coffee. Temp doesn't matter, because he's going to forget it until its room temp.

Has been known to enter fugue states and consume an absurd amount of Chicago style hot dogs

Scones or just plain bread with butter and jams

Piper; Broke college student trying to make it as a reporter. Her tastebuds are fucked, they salivate not for flavor, or texture, but for those good, good low prices. Piper's diet is almost entirely snackfood or takeout. If she ever cooks, it's for Nat. But when taking care of just herself, Piper eats from a box or bag. When she does cook, it's very simple meals. Loves her carbs and her fruit flavors

Chicken Ramen with canned chicken and frozen broccoli chucked in. Also makes this for Nat

Hot cheetos, eats with chopsticks

Spaghetti and meatballs

Fruit smoothies/smoothie bowls, blends in veggies as well for the nutrition

Coka cola and anything from Fanta, loves fruit sodas

Anything carbs and I mean that. Eats a lot of bread, pasta, cakes, potatoes...they're the sweetheart of anyone on a budget.

Buffalo cauliflower, likes it more than Buffalo chicken

Chewing gum. Fruit flavors only, hates mint gum. Likes mint elsewhere, just not in gum.

Nickle-nips and other "jelly/juice in a wax package" candies. Likes the charm of it, also, free chewing wax

Suckers/lollipops, big on hard candy in general but the stick satisfies her smoking habit.

Preston; A mix of easy depression/bulk meals and dishes from his childhood. Lots of spices, cooks with a lot of straight peppers. Tends to eat his food 'raw', not made into a dish. Again, easy and quick to eat. Also tends to buy pre-prepared stuff for the same reason, buys more fruits and veggies and just eats them straight. Doesn't care about eating healthy, he just lacks energy to cook most days.

I have no choice to explain this as it has no name. Casserole dish, layer of mashed potatoes, layer of shredded or chunked chicken, layer of white breakfast gravy or brown poultry gravy, top with drop biscuits. It's buttery, its savory, it is white as snow. Easy, cheap, one ladlefull is dinner. You'll get a few meals out of it, and it's so filling you have like, five minutes before you're stuffed. I call it gut-glue.

Dirty rice

Eggs scrambled with spinach

Jollof/jambalaya

Veggies and hummus or ranch

Various fruits and berries such as grapes, cherries, blackberries, and oranges

Shakshouka, eggs poached in spicy tomato sauce and eaten with bread

Chicken biscuits, crackers dusted with, like, chicken bouillon? They taste like a chicken Ramen packet sneezed on a ritz

Slurpees/Icees/those syruped gas station ice drinks

Straight peppers, eats bell peppers like apples. Eats pickled jalapeños and scotch bonnets to feel something. Drinks the liquid in pickle jars instead of alcohol, or mixes it with gelatin and makes pickle jello.

X6-88; Pretensious rich asshole who eats like it. He rarely cooks for himself, probably has a personal chef or something. Maybe his work has their own restaurants, like Google. Eats mostly vegetables, but his favorite foods skew from "Dubai Influencer" to "12 year old who earned too much lawn mowing money and was let loose in a convenience store." So much sugar. Willy Wonka's factory is his idea of heaven and until it exists, he's an atheist.

Raw meats. Steak and tuna tartar, sashimi, and sushi

Braised duck with cherries

Nduja, a spicy pork sausage spread, has it with flatbreads

Oysters. Eats them all fancy in public, eats them from a tin with doritos at home

Anything from Hostess, Little Debbie, those brands. Fucking anything. However, would kill a man for any kind of Swiss roll

Chocolate milk

Gummies, very picky with brands, hates the harder kinds like Haribo. Wants his gummies soft as a marshmellow

Cadbury eggs

Milano dark chocolate cookies

Gushers

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #nick valentine #piper wright #x6-88 #robert joseph maccready #companions react #porter gage

[bakugotrashpanda]

Two Truths and a Lie

Chapter 6: Fuck You (18+)

Bakugou x Fem!Reader

◈ Pro Hero, Fake Engagement ◈ Word Count: 2516

◇ Chapter Select

◇ Previous Chapter

!!: sex, spanking, hate sex

You keep poking and Bakugou snaps at you.

Another day at Bakugou’s apartment. The man in question stands in front of his stovetop finishing lunch for the two of you. This new pattern of everyday life shows an oddly domestic side to your fake fiancé — one that, should ‘domestic’ and ‘Bakugou’ be used in the same sentence before all this, would have had you laughing at the oxymoron. 

During the week, you spend the night at your apartment, sleeping on the couch and surrounded by a bitter emptiness. Days off are spent at Bakugou’s, though you are wheedling your way into his life more and more by coming over for dinners. That way you can ignore the fact that half the pots and pans are away with Midoriya, and you get free food you don’t have to cook. The change of scenery is also an added bonus. 

But nearly five weeks of feeling like you’re couch surfing in what’s supposed to be your home is draining — not to mention taking its toll on your back and neck. 

“I wanna move in,” you blurt out. 

Without missing a beat, Bakugou responds with a short “No.”

“Can you at least pretend to think about it?” you ask. “This whole going back and forth between apartments thing is exhausting.”

He turns towards you and adopts a faraway stare for one second before responding. “No.”

“Why not? Everyone thinks we’re engaged!”

Bakugou returns to the food on the stove. “It’s not real and I don’t share.”

“No one needs to know that,” you snort. “C’mon, think of it as being assigned a work roommate. Besides, it’s not like you have a girlfriend or anything.”

You watch the muscles on his back stiffen. The movement is nearly imperceptible, but you saw it. Wheels start turning in your head. He may have never been public about a girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean he’s as chaste as a monk. You know for a fact he’s not.

You straighten in your seat. “There’s someone you’re interested in.” His shoulders rise defensively and he grabs two plates from a cupboard before aggressively plating food. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he mutters and slides the plate your way before stomping off with his own. He can’t hide the flaming red blush on his cheeks though.

“Oh, you have a crush on someone,” you say and slide off the barstool, plate in hand. “Is it someone I know?”

“Don’t go pokin’ your nose in things that aren’t your business.”

“So why haven’t you done anything about it?” you challenge.

“What did I just say?”

“Are you too chicken to make a move?” you follow him into a small dining room. Six chairs line up perfectly around a spotless table. If this were a stranger’s home, you would assume they entertained often with how neat it is. “Is that what it is?”

Bakugou slams his plate and utensils onto the table and points at you. “She will never know. I don’t want these stupid feelings. I never asked for them.”

“So you are a coward,” you tease and bump him with your shoulder as you pass, “The great Dynamight doesn’t have the balls to tell a girl he likes her.”

“There’s more to it than that.” Bakugou growls in your ear. “Back. Off.”

All bark and no bite. “I’m not going to get between you and your woman,” you wave him off.

“Ochako isn’t my woman.”

You freeze. “Ochako.” He did not just say that. The single bite of food you managed now sits like a lump in your stomach. Your limbs feel like they’ll drop at any moment. He might as well have put you in an ice bath fully clothed. 

Bakugou runs a hand through his hair. “Fuckin’ shit.”

“Ochako,” you clarify, “As in, dating my ex, Ochako.”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to. Of fucking course.

Eerie calm and heart pounding rage send your brain into a tizzy. You take a step away from him. Even with deep breaths, oxygen doesn’t seem to make it into your blood and spots of red cloud your vision.

Rage will not help. Think calm thoughts. Think about anything except the fact that-

“Hell why is it always her?” you shout. “What do you fucking see in her? Is it her doe eyes? The cheeks? Does she make you feel like you’re a strong man who can protect her? She doesn’t need that! She can kick all our asses.”

Bakugou nearly send his chair flying backwards with how fast he stands. “Stop talking.”

“No! Everywhere I go, I have fucking Midoriya and Uraraka shoved down my throat. I walk to work and pass the giant screen that runs his ads. I go to the grocery store and see their faces slapped on the cover of every goddamn magazine!” You stomp off towards the front door.  “What is so special about her that has everyone falling for her? I thought you of all people would be smarter than that”

“Are you just upset that you couldn’t keep Deku?” Bakugou sneers and follows you. “That he got bored with you?”

You recoil. “Bored?”

“I hear things, sweetheart. Everyone talks. Especially people who went to the same fucking highschool.” Bakugou manages to get in front of you, blocking the front door. “I heard about you before I knew your name. And I knew what your precious Deku thought of you.”

“The breakup was-”

“Face it.” You take a step away as he advances. The solid kitchen island counter presses against your back. “He dumped you because he was bored with you.”

“Shut up!” 

Bakugou’s hands rest on the island on either side of you, caging you in. He leans in, his warm breath sending goosebumps down your neck. “I told you,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “To keep your nose out of my business.”

Personal bubble broken, you try and push him back, but his body is solid and doesn’t move. Much.

“You’re an asshole,” you spit out.

“Are you surprised?” Pulling back slightly, his face is inches from yours. If you could wipe that fucking smirk off his face, you would.

“Fuck you,” you sneer. Bakugou’s ragged breath mingles with your own. Your gaze flicks to his mouth before meeting his eyes — ready for a challenge. Fiery.

Your lips crash against his and your hands wrap around his body, pulling him closer. Bakugou’s teeth tug against your lower lip. Your gasp spurs him on, his tongue finding yours, coaxing it out. Bakugou’s cock strains against his pants and he chases the brief amount of pleasure that comes from your hips flush against his. 

The cool counter underneath his palms could probably crack from his grip. Deep breaths. He won’t lose himself in you. He can’t. His hands travel to your waist before traveling down to your ass. God you’re so soft against him. 

Bakugou pulls back, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his. Your eyes flutter open, the anger behind them gone, channeled into something… more. “Fuck you?” Bakugou raises an eyebrow. “I intend to.”

His hands leave your ass and hook under your knees. With ease, he pulls you up and your legs wrap around his hips. Has anyone ever run their hands through his hair like you are? Not that he can remember. Warmth blooms against his chest. When was the last time he touched someone like this? Held them? Was held himself? Bakugou nearly stops and just stands there in the kitchen with you wrapped around him.

“Katsuki,” you murmur huskily.

The bedroom’s too far. Couch it is. Laying you on the couch, his fingers make fast work of your pants. Your hips arch up so he can slide them off. Bakugou’s shirt joins yours on the floor. His pants are halfway down his legs when he looks up and sees you spread on the couch for him. A Rococo artist would’ve painted the scene before him where it would hang among other masterpieces.

There’s no holding himself back now.

“You need to get Deku out of your head,” Bakugou growls. 

Settling between your legs, he runs his fingers down your thigh towards your apex. Whiny moans fill the room as he teases your entrance, rubbing his cock against your slit. He’ll have you screaming his name instead of Deku’s. He can make you forget about that asshole.

But when he sees your lips agape, your chest heaving and nipples pert… Is this what you looked like for that green haired bastard? Is… is this what Ochako looks like for him? Silently begging for more? Spread out for him, a deep ache only he can fill?

Bakugou doesn’t know how you do it, but he finds himself on the ground at lightning speed with his hands pinned above his head. Your teeth graze the shell of his ear before nipping at the lobe. “Don’t you know it’s rude to think of another woman when you’re about to fuck someone else?” you rasp. Fuck. Of course you would’ve seen it – the brief hesitation. Your lips trail down the side of his neck leaving kisses in their wake. Sometimes, you add teeth, demanding his attention.

You line him up with your entrance before slowly inching down him. Instinctively, he tries to buck up, to chase the ecstasy of being in you, but you raise your hips and leave him frustratingly unsatisfied. At this rate, you’ll be the death of him.

“C’mon, babe,” you tease, “I’m the one in front of you. She’s not here.” He’s nearly all the way inside you. So close. So fucking close. And yet that cold spark in your eye lets him believe that you’re going to make this agonizingly slow for him.

Bakugou rips his hands from your grip and pulls your hips flush against his — like your single hand would be able to keep him in place. He keeps you seated there before running his hands up your waist. Crescent moon indents line your hips. He travels the expanse of your skin, memorizing the topography – where each curve is, every mountain and valley, even the way you shiver when he ghosts over a sensitive spot. His eyes rove up your body lazily, committing to memory the way you look with his cock filling you. 

Your tits would look perfect in his hands. And your neck? Perfect spot for him to leave his mark. 

Where he expects to see bliss on your face, he’s met with a condescending smirk. “You wanna know how Izuku fucks? You wanna know how he’s going to please the woman you’re ass over tits for?”

Oh you’re fucking cruel. 

You rock forward suddenly and his length is no longer in you. The loss of contact rips a groan from him. The tip of his cock barely stays nestled in your folds. “He’s going to be fucking feral.” Just as quick as he was pulled from your warmth, you slide down his cock again and have Bakugou seeing stars.

His hands clamp down on your hips – to pull you closer or push to away? Fuck, he’ll have to try those stupid calming breaths his therapist tried to get him to use or else he’s going to burst. 

Warm walls drag against his shaft as you pull off him again. Delirious with the need to fuck up into you, Bakugou almost misses your words. “He’ll leave love bites all over her skin.” Again, your ass slaps against his thighs. 

Close. So close to losing control after only two strokes. Bakugou closes his eyes and clamps his mouth shut so you can’t see how fucking needy he is. If he finishes inside you right now, he’ll never be able to live it down. A goddamn two pump chump.

When he nearly slips out of you again, he braces himself and prepares for the worst. “She’ll be crying out his name and he’ll whisper how he l-loves her when he– when he fills her-” 

The final blow never comes. 

Bakugou cracks an eye open. Your lower lip trembles, and while budding tears may line your eyes, they’re also filled with the vacant stare of memories. 

Now who’s stuck in their own head?

With the same speed you possessed, he pulls you against his chest and rolls the two of you over before flipping you one more time so you’re on your hands and knees. Your back fits perfectly against his chest. 

His words are nothing more than a whisper. “Get his name out of your pretty little mouth.” His hands follow the curve of your body down to your ass. You jolt when he brings his hand down hard and fast against the soft skin. “Say my name.”

“Fuck you,” you gasp. He soothes the reddening spot with circular strokes. His cock, stiff as a board and weeping pre-come, glides against your entrance and comes away coated with your arousal. 

“You wanna finish? Say my fucking name.” The more he demands it, the more he wants to hear it. He wants you begging for him. 

A ragged breath precedes the two syllable whisper. “Katsuki.” Bakugou smirks and rewards you by sliding his cock in. 

“I can’t hear you.” A sharp thrust punctuates the statement. When you don’t say anything, he stills and keeps your hips from moving into him. “Say my name like you mean it.”

“K-Katsuki.” Good girl. And as a reward he continues rolling his hips against you. Your voice, tentatively testing his name without spite changes to chanting as if worshiping a god.

“Katsuki!” Your voice rings out and fills the apartment. “Harder!” Gasps and moans each time you draw breath spur him on. Bakugou sets a frenzied pace led by his burning need and hunger for release.

Your walls clamp down around him and push him over the edge. Pleasure shoots through him as he empties into you. He stays deep in you for a second before bracing himself and pulling out. Bakugou flops onto his back beside you, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you down against him. Your heart beats furiously throughout your body and against his chest.

As his high dwindles, reality sets in. Sex was never a complicated thing for him; there were no emotions attached and it was just an act where he never had to see the other person again. You complicated it. He knows what you look like naked now, knows how you sound when you take his entire length. This isn’t something he can walk away from.

He needs to talk about this with you. He needs some degree of separation. Boundaries. A line neither of you can cross.

“You said you don’t want to share your space.” Your fingers tease the hair on his chest. “I’m sharing mine with the memory of Midoriya.”

You got him there.

Bakugou squeezes his eyes shut. Damn it. “Take the spare room. I’ll clear it out after we clean up.”

Truth: Hearing Bakugou admit that he liked Ochako stung. A lot.

Truth: Sex with Bakugou will never happen again.

Lie: Sex with Bakugou will never happen again.

◇ Next Chapter

A/N: ahaha this was the chapter that sparked the whole series. My beta readers felt personally attacked and i didn't change a damn thing sorry. Also I’m going through some stuff so if I forget to link the chapters back to the master list or the previous chapter, please be kind ♥

Tag List: @thatfanfictionwriter , @loving-katsuki , @dienamights , @katditca , @boosyboo9206 , @alex-sulli , @hypernovaxx , @ti-mame , @ms0milk , @nerd-nowandforever , @minninugget , @tiny-wooden-robot (babes i'm sorry idk why your tag works 50/50) , @icedemon1314 , @xviternity , @naiomiwinchester , @lovinkiri , @sincerelyyrosemary , @satogg , @liberace2 , @acid-rain27 , @chaoticorganizedmess , @neurovascular-entrapta , @kiwiified , @bnha-free-writing , @xxkay15xx , @zombiewarprincess , @izuwumidoriya , @blue-enigma , @mommy-without-milkers , @plaggi , @budibbly , @zyxys1, @doonaandpjs , @chifuyus-slut , @aceredhairliberal , @dxrkdreamer , @archdag , @cxshmereclxud , @nuthonii, @sukisprint, @juneday-romanoff

#two truths and a lie #writing #mine

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Loki Episode 3 Reactions (Less Coherent Edition)

Lots of caps lock today. Spoilers for Loki.

If we don't go to the World's Fair today I'm gonna riot.

If said World's Fair is not in Chicago I'm gonna riot

Oh FUCK YES just saw the screenshot

CAN I JUST SAY EVEN THOUGH I THINK I'VE SAID IT BEFORE LOKI IS BASICALLY IN HIS CLOTHES FROM THE COVER OF WML

OH MY GOD I SAW THE TITLE YESSSSS CHICAGO

The fucking music oh my god

NO WHAT THE FUCK WHY ARE THOSE BUILDINGS MADE OF WOOD TWELVE YEARS AFTER THE CHICAGO FIRE ARE YOU CRAZY AND WRONG

oh okay I will casually throw aside the large rock. It's 1868. Maybe ya'll did do your research. I SAW THE TRAILER THOUGH SO I'M NOT SO SURE

DON'T DO IT IT'S FOUR YEARS EARLY DO NOT TIP OVER A LANTERN BITCH

OB that was not simple enough for me

Are we in 1868 or 1893, then, boys, I have to know for the historical accuracy of these building materials.

THANK YOU, MOBIUS! [He mentioned the Fire and I felt vindicated.]

Yes, how could you have forgotten?? MOBIUS I LOVE THAT YOU LOVE THE WORLD'S FAIR

CAN WE TALK ABOUT WHAT FUCKING HAPPENED TO THAT NEIGHBORHOOD THOUGH

I MEAN FLAMES BUT IT WAS EITHER NOT REBUILT OR LEVELED AGAIN FOR MIDWAY [side-eyes the parallels of the history of Central Park in NYC to Hell and back] [I don't know for a fact if that is accurate but I wouldn't be in the least surprised if it was.]

okay the vintage transition made me unnecessarily excited

MOBIUS do not rationalize your snack addition [you don't need to, you're perfect]

Also Cracker Jack is nasty

Thanks Loki

YOU FLIRTS

The commentary on the global exhibits is the shit

"Thor's not that tall." SHUT UP SHUT UP YOU STARED AT HIM FOR FAR LONGER THAN NECESSARY AND SAID THAT TO COVER UP THE FACT THAT YOU MISS HIM YOU'RE NOT FOOLING ANYBODY

fuck yes post credit scene

I'm just saying it's not that far outside the realm of possibility for Theo to be here [I was going to continue to explain this but then got distracted by:]

THE VINTAGE TRANSITIONS

Loki is fucking panicking

SYLVIE MY GIRL

Wait goddamn please let's not do this shit again

Mobius just take her bag. You're a clever boy, I'm sure you can think of something.

OH MY GOD SHE THREW HIM

NO LOKI DO IT

Eew

This guy grew up in Chicago. Why is he talking like that?

"The wizard gentleman" I'm dying

Okay but this is not a Wisconsin accent either.

"Lower taxes" MOOD

HOW ARE YOU TWO SO BAD AT THIS

yeah Miss Minutes you keep trying to take credit for this, you wanna be the one that fucks him? Because that's the direction this shit is moving [Apollo please I'm begging you to pass me over. Ugh.]

Squall squall squall

Oh shit I didn't see THAT coming though damn [I was trying for a shipwreck but then they just sent Renslayer adrift in Lake Michigan.]

The writers: Okay so everyone betrays their lover in the end; Me: Okay one, are y'all okay? And two, y'all read Oscar Wilde's "The Ballad of Reading Gaol" and took it as gospel, huh? ["Yet each man kills the thing he loves/By each let this be heard,/Some do it with a bitter look,/Some with a flattering word,/The coward does it with a kiss,/The brave man with a sword!"]

MISS MINUTES ABSOLUTELY GO FUCK YOURSELF

eew what the fuck is happening

OH MY GOD THE WRITERS LOVE TO MAKE WEIRD ASS COUPLES

EEEEEEWWWWWW WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING BUT GODDAMN I FUCKING SHOULD HAVE

Rav I'd say kill Minutes but we need her

VON?? VON??

ARE WE DOING THIS AGAIN WITH RAVONNA AND MOBIUS THIS TIME

DO WE NEED THESE PARALLELS

OH FUCK YOU RAV

SYLVIE STOP

HAIR FLIP

SYLVIE

YEAH SYL KILL THE BITCH

AND FIGURE OUT YOUR NEXUS FIRST

SYLVIE YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN YOUR NEXUS FIRST BUT DAMN GIRL HOLY SHIT

EEWW MISS MINUTES COME ON

Wait I just thought of something and I HATE IT SO MUCH (sorry to not tell you but I'm gonna think on this for a few days and then post a theory)

#loki #loki tv show #loki season 2 #sylvie laufeydottir #mobius m mobius #loki season 2 spoilers #loki series reactions #lokius

[cosmicjoke]

unlocking you just to say how astonished I am at your rage and hissy fits on the internet lol. I would have expected this from some teen head over heels with an anime man but your a grown woman, seething and foaming at the mouth because ppl can clearly see through your biases and don't agree with your takes. wonder why tsuki (for example) ended you and called you out on your black and white analysis of aot? and why so many others distance yourself from you? because you are an angry, biased, obsessed with a 2D man grown ass woman who can only insult and throw hissy fits when ppl call you out and point at your biased takes. this is the only message I am going to write to you. get better, get help and learn to consume fiction in a casual way.

lol, you're the one stalking me, dumb-ass. You and Tsuki are both cowards who talk shit about people, alluding vaguely to them on your blogs and wallowing in conspiracy theories about them and their actions simply for having different takes on things than you. You think every person that doesn't accept eruri as canon is part of some nefarious clique who's sole purpose is to take down eruri shippers and disprove their claims, when in reality, literally nobody gives a shit about you or your delusions. You're the ones who can't ever seem to just let it go and move on. It's gotten to the point where you're now attacking Levi's character and his status as a heroic figure out of nothing more than petty bitterness at people who are more so fans of him than of some made up fantasy romance you've conjured between him and Erwin. You can't bear the fact that more people appreciate Levi on his own, for who he is as an individual character than you lunatics who want to view him as nothing more than Erwin's lapdog and sidekick. I'm sorry if it triggers you that Levi is more than just Erwin's support character. I don't give a shit about either of you clowns. You've offered literally no substantive arguments for ANYTHING you've said, and offered no counter arguments to anything I've pointed out to you. All you can do is make the same, moronic statements over and over again, insult me for my age and accuse me of throwing "hissy fits" when it's you who won't STFU and can't stop following my blog. Your pathological inability to just move on would really be funny if it weren't so pathetic.

Have fun continuing to stalk my blog and then pretending like you don't do it. Everyone can see just what am imbecile you are. You continue to announce it loud and clear every time you open your gaping hole of a mouth.

And yipee, now I get to block you, fuck-face.

#morons R us at it again #look at the clown everybody #remember to laugh #what a bunch of sad pathetic losers you shippers truly are

[hold-me-witcher]

Daydrinking to Drown Out the Pain

Read on ao3!

Special thank you to @elder-flower for beta-ing <3

The lad in the loud Hawaiian shirt tapped his chin thoughtfully while looking at the drinks menu behind the bar. Then his big blue gaze switched so that it was directed at Geralt, who took that as his cue to ask, “What can I get you?” like any good bartender would. 

Despite all the time he’d spent pondering the menu, the boy did not order. Instead he let out a long sigh. “My ex got engaged today,” he said. “To my other ex. Give me something that’ll fuck me up.” 

Geralt did a double take. The customer didn’t even look old enough to be drinking, much less to have more than one ex who he’d been broken up with long enough that they’d moved on so thoroughly. 

“High school sweethearts?” he asked doubtfully, his hands automatically pulling a glass from behind the counter.

The man chuckled. “Oh no, university actually. Here, let me help you out.” He presented his ID with a flourish under Geralt’s raised eyebrows. “I know,” his tone was self-deprecating, “babyface.” 

“Hm.” Geralt looked the ID over. It certainly seemed legit, facing horizontally and everything. Apparently the man’s name was Julian and he was twenty-three. He handed the ID back to its owner and very carefully did not react when their fingers brushed. “How's a Long Island iced tea?”

Normally Geralt wouldn’t give two shits past getting a customer their drink but well, Julian was dressed nicely enough that he would probably give a healthy tip to a listening ear. He reeked of that very special “willing to toss money at whatever makes me feel better” air. And it was late afternoon, before the evening rush so it’s not like he had much else to do. At least that’s what Geralt told himself, when he sidled down the bar to give the man his drink and then stayed. He had no idea how to start the conversation but luckily Julian needed no prodding.

“It’s just like, I don’t even care that much!” he burst out, before taking a dejected sip of his drink.

“But you’re drinking about it,” Geralt pointed out. Shit, maybe that wasn’t sympathetic enough. 

Luckily Julian didn’t seem to mind his bluntness. He gave a bitter smile. “Yes well, it makes for a compelling narrative, don’t you think?” He took another long sip, the drink already half gone. “It’s not about the people- I mean, it’s a little about the people. Valdo and Virginia are both awful and they deserve each other. I hope they’ll be absolutely miserable together.”

Geralt wasn’t quite sure what to respond. He settled on, “Sounds like you need to stop getting involved with people whose names start with V.” 

Julian gave a surprised laugh like he’d actually found that funny. “I do, don’t I? Anyways yeah, it’s not like I’m jealous or hung up on either of them, it’s just- just-”

“They have someone and you don’t?” Geralt guessed. 

“Yes!” Julian exclaimed. Angry sip. “I cannot fucking believe two such miserable bats have gone and decided to get hitched when neither of them could bear to commit to me after a year long relationship each. I mean I dodged a bullet there obviously. Me, married at twenty three? What a laugh. But still, they’re together and they had the gall to invite me to their engagement party and I’m here . . .”

“Drinking alone in a bar,” Geralt finished. 

“Precisely.” Julian drained the rest of his drink. “I’m sorry, you must think me quite pathetic. I swear I usually drink with friends, it's just that they’re all at an engagement party this evening.”

Geralt frowned. “Doesn’t seem like they’re very good friends.”

Julian gave a choked laugh. “Oh no it’s me, I’m the problem. I act absolutely cordial with Valdo and Virginia so no one suspects a thing. Didn’t want to wreck the group. They’re not bad people, just very bad partners, you know? My friends wouldn’t let me daydrink alone if they knew, but I took the coward's way out, claimed I had prior plans.”

Geralt knew a thing or two about fudging the truth to get out of unwanted interactions. He’d done it countless times to get out of Yen’s fancy dinner parties. 

“You still deserve support,” Geralt said, as gently as he could. 

“Of course I do!” Julian exclaimed. “And luckily I have you- oh shit I’m so sorry I’ve been prattling on and on and I haven’t even asked your name, so rude of me, sorry-”

“Geralt,” Geralt interrupted. “My name’s Geralt.”

“Yes good, Geralt, the world's kindest hottest bartender.” Julian swayed on the barstool. “Oh bollocks, I drank that rather quickly didn’t I? I’m afraid it’s all hitting at once.” 

Geralt grunted, hoping his blush wasn’t too noticeable as he poured Julian a glass of ice water. “Here, should help.”

Endearingly, Julian pressed the cool mason jar to his forehead before taking a drink. “Geralt,” he said thoughtfully, tracing his fingers through the condensation along the sides of the glass, “doesn’t start with a V.” 

Geralt wished he knew how to respond. Instead he found himself considering Julian’s flushed cheeks and slightly glazed eyes. It was a pretty face really, with some stubble would probably even be considered handsome. Pretty-handsome people with bright eyes were just Geralt’s type, godsdamnit. 

“Say,” a sly smile quirked Julian’s lips, “You wouldn’t happen to be single and into men, would you?”

Well that was much more forward than Geralt was used to. His lips parted. Nothing came out. He tried again. “Um. I.”

Julian groaned before Geralt could actually say anything of substance. “Gods! I am so sorry that was insanely inappropriate, please forget I said anything. I swear I don’t usually harass people in their workplaces. Or at all!”

“It’s fine,” Geralt finally managed. “I. Hm. My brothers will be here to take over my shift in an hour. You can stay here, sober up ‘til I’m finished. Can’t take you home if you’re intoxicated. If you’re still interested by then,” he added. “Or if you just wanted to talk more, we can . . . talk.” 

The way Julian was beaming at him made Geralt want to hide, but also stare until his eyes dried out. “Only if you’re sure.” 

Geralt shrugged. “Would’ve told you to fuck off if I wanted to.” 

Julian’s smile grew wider. “Of that I have no doubt! Anyways, let me close out my tab. Water only while I wait! I can still sit up here and complain to you in between customers though, right? Because darling I have so much to say.” 

Julian did in fact tip very well, but even if he hadn’t Geralt would have been utterly content to listen to him prattle on about idiots getting married young these days and why did people even still do marriage? Honestly no one had the right to sound so good while endlessly complaining. 

By the time Eskel and Lambert came in for the always busy evening shift, Geralt was entirely familiar with the cadence of Julian’s voice. It wasn’t grating like most over-talkative people, in fact it was rather soothing. As he approached Julian around the other side of the bar, finally ready to leave, it was gratifying to see him slide off his barstool with an eager smile. Geralt found himself quite looking forward to hearing what kinds of things Julian had to say to him once they were alone. 

#the witcher #twn #witcher fanfiction #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier #geraskier fic #Jaskier

[sweetchup]

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol.4: Change in the Tides// Ch. 22

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 3,600+ Warnings: Cursing, Language, Adult Themes Masterlist

This sucks. This really truly sucked, so. Much.

Honestly, you didn’t know what to think of anymore. Your relationship with Poseidon was just straight confusing. Were you together? Were you friends with benefits? You truly, truly, didn’t know.

He was an asshole. You knew that much. But…

…Was he worth giving your heart to?

You can not help but let out a loud sigh as you stared off into the darkness of the bedroom. Your head currently resting on Poseidon’s chest; your bodies entangled with each other after things had turned into so much more in your office. Both of you wearing nothing except a thin silk sheet covering you two. It was the dead of night but you couldn’t fall asleep even after your extracurricular activity.

Surprisingly, the sea tyrant was fast asleep. A blank stiff expression on his face even as he was swept off to dreamland. He really truly always wore an icy stone mask. 

“You are really bizarre…” You whisper to yourself in an extremely soft tone. Ever so carefully bringing a hand up to touch the perfect god’s cheek. It felt stone hard and cold yet also had a hint of softness, almost like marble, against your hand.

“...Poseidon…” You can’t help but whisper, taking in the god’s face, your stomach and heart in knots, “...Do you truly love me…?”

    You wait with a baited breath. For some odd reason expecting an answer in return but as the asleep god remained silent, you can’t help but feel bitter. Even though you knew, you knew, you wouldn’t get an answer in response.

    This Sucks.

    Your heart felt like it was drowning. Drowning in so much sorrow. You wanted to curl up in a ball and just hide. Hide from the world. 

    Poseidon…

    Oh, Poseidon…

    Do you love me…?

    Truly from the bottom of your heart? Or… is this another trick? One where you and Zeus want to drag me back into your plan.

    You didn’t know… You truly didn’t know.

    However, your brain couldn’t seem to accept that as it reels to life. Flickering through your memories as if searching for some sort of answer. Any answer.

–.--.--.--.--

    “What are you doing here?” You can’t help but ask, your words sluggish from slight exhaustion as you stared up at the sea god in front of you. What was he doing? He had no reason to be in your mansion right now. Honestly…, was he here just to bully the human?

    As if sensing your thoughts, you receive a harsh icy glare from Poseidon that causes you to stiffen up. Were you still on bad terms with him?

    Well…, now that you think about it... You probably damaged his pride when you offered to treat his wounds from that jellyfish attack. Probably… That was the last time you saw him if you remember correctly.

    “So…,” You mumble, kicking a foot anxiously against the marble tile as flooring you were under Poseidon’s harsh glare, “How’s the hand…?”

    Instantly, you felt how bloodthirsty his gaze got and you can’t help but freeze as Poseidon puts a hand on the wall next to your face. Wrong move. You made a very, terrible, horrible, wrong move.

    “Care to fucking repeat that?” Poseidon venomously spits out. Even though your eyes were still trained to the ground, you can feel his face get closer to yours. Shit, shit, shit. “Look at me, Coward.” 

    Instantly upon feeling the harsh breath of his words against your ear, you spin your head around. Coming face to face, nose to nose with the sea tyrant himself. 

    “Uh…” You choke up, your brain reeling with fear as you try to come up with an answer. Something, anything will work at this point. Anything to get this beast out of your face, “You…!”

“You are very handsome!” You shout out, the words spitting out before you can even stop it, “...Lord…Poseidon…”

As silence overtakes the corridor, your brain seems to jog back to life, all which you just said coming crashing on you. Your face felt like a hot chili pepper and you felt as if you wanted to disappear. Hell, you weren’t wrong. He was a good looking guy. He was a god for crying out loud. But, why, why!, did you have to tell Poseidon–the guy with the shitty personality–that. 

You can’t bring yourself to look at Poseidon’s face. Whether it be from embarrassment or shame you didn’t know. You honestly just want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“You…” You gulp as you hear a sigh escape the sea god, “...What in the world is mentally wrong with you.”

At that insult you can’t help but snap your head around to look at him, “Huh?” 

Poseidon surprisingly no longer wore an angry glare. Instead it was a blank expression, an…odd blank expression. While to you it looked no different, you couldn't help but feel as if something was off. Like some sort of gut feeling.

“Did you hit your head?” You can’t help but let out a small shriek as Poseidon suddenly grabs your head and man-handles it. Maneuvering it back and forth. “Human?”

“Hold–Hold up.” You screech as Poseidon suddenly grabs from under your armpits and lifts you up. Holy shiy. Your feet kick back and forth in fear as you are longer touching the ground. “Put me down!”

However, Poseidon seems to ignore you as he begins to walk even as you squirm in his grasps. All the while a scowl on his lips as he grumbles under his breath.

“...Idiot,” You can’t help but hear Poseidon murmur as you continue to try to break free, “Why are humans so fucking fragile…“

“I’m not injured!” You whine. Though you know it fell on deaf ears as Poseidon just continues on.

    –.--.--.--.--

“Just Listen–” You cut off Poseidon’s rebuttal once more as you shake your head. This guy just can’t take a hint. Though, then again, when has he ever.

“For the final time, I don’t need your help, Poseidon.” You sigh, angrily putting the stack of papers down on the desk. “I understand the basics in math and Pierre has already explained everything that I didn’t know before.”

As you gesture to the old butler, you can’t help but whince as Poseidon sends him a glare. Ouch. What’s got him in a sour mood. 

“You still need to be perfect in taking care of the household.” Poseidon snaps back at you, gesturing to the stacks of papers that you take care of daily, “This is from taking care of invites to orders for items and taking care of winter preparation.” 

“Alright, alright.” You grumble underneath your breath, unable to help yourself from rolling your eyes as Poseidon turns his back to you to go grab something. As he walks across the room, you can’t help but turn to Pierre. “What’s his deal?”

“Pardon?” Pierre questions, blinking many times as he stares at you. It is then that you realized you spoke in a modern human language that Pierre wasn’t used to. Quickly rewording, you watch as Pierre humms in consideration, “Well, Lord Poseidon… has…”

As Pierre trails off, he leans down to secretly whisper in your ear, “…insomnia.”

“He does?!” 

Pierre nods with a sigh, “Sadly, the young lord has never taken it up with a doctor so he has no methods of attempting of solving it.”

“Seriously?” You question, still whispering to Pierre, “Then what does he do when he can’t fall asleep?“

“Paperwork, mostly. Reading books…” As Pierre trails off listing some of the things, you can’t help but think back. So, that’s why he was reading that book in bed! You weren’t crazy to think about the fact that he reads in his leisure time. But, still what a pain. No wonder he’s so grumpy and prickly constantly. 

Suddenly a thought comes to mind, “Pierre?” 

“Yes, my lady?”

“Do we have any tea leaves?”

While it wasn’t exactly a medical solution, you did know from a couple of friends that certain tea leaves have certain sleep helping effects. Perhaps, it could work on a god like Poseidon? 

“Oh,” Pierre sighs as he shakes his head, “Saldy we do not as tea leaves can’t stay dry in this area.”

Wow you really didn’t think that question through. Of course, they don’t. I mean why would they, you lived in the fucking ocean for crying out loud. That was such a stupid question…

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

And, of course the devil himself had to speak up as well. Letting out a loud sigh, you turned to look at Poseidon who was glaring down at you. 

“I don’t know. What’s your problem?” You rebut, shaking your head. “I know you're running on a limited amount of sleep but do you have to be a douchebag about it?”

At that particular comment, Poseidon gives you a harsh glare as he slams the book he was holding down on your desk, “I suggest you watch your mouth.”

You really weren’t in the mood for this today.

“Then…” You let out another small sigh, “Why don’t we call it a day?”

“Huh?” 

With once again another sigh, you shake off Poseidon’s glare as you stand to your feet from your desk chair, “Both of us are tired and you most definitely need the rest.”

“A god doesn’t take breaks.” 

At that particular comment, you can’t help but feel your eyebrow twitch. A god does this, a god does that. What a load of horseshit. 

“Well,” You put a fake smile on your lips as you turn back to Poseidon. Marching straight up to the god, you looked him in the eyes, “This one does. So, I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.”

As a sign of defiance, you stand on the tip of your toes and place a simple peck on the corner of his cheek. Making sure to get a slight stain of lipstick to linger. Once satisfied, you turn on your heel and make your way to the door.

“You can’t leave.” 

Instantly, you rebuttal Poseidon’s words as the god grabs your waist, “Of course, I can. Who is there to stop me?”

“Obviously I will.” 

“Then do it.” You respond simply, blinking up at the god, “Make me.”

“You—“ You look up at Poseidon with a small smirk. While he didn’t show it, you knew you had won. Hell, what was there to do. Usually the sea tyrant would either have someone begging on their knees or would just kill them. This was uncharted territory.

“Okay, My Wife.” You are shocked by Poseidon’s next words as you are suddenly swept off your feet and brought back to the desk. This time Poseidon sitting in the seat as you sat straddling his waist. Instantly, you try to squirm from his hold but with just a single arm wrapped around your waist, there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to break free from. 

“You suck so much, Poseidon.” You can’t help but grumble as you lean against your arranged husband’s shoulder. If you weren’t in such a pissed off state, you would have felt the slight vibration of Poseidon’s chuckling in his chest but sadly you weren’t paying attention. 

So you sat there for the next two hours as Poseidon went over the paperwork duties with you. All of which you already knew so it was very boring. 

Honestly, the only thing that made it worthwhile to be trapped in Poseidon’s arms is that he couldn’t stop you from playing with his hair (even though he kept on cursing you out for it). Which surprisingly at the end of the day… 

“…Poseidon?” You can’t help but whisper as you feel the weight of the man’s body lean against yours. As you look up from one of the braids you were doing in his blonde locks, you look to see his eyes suddenly snap open as he leans back upright. Did he…? No way he did. “…Did you just fall asleep?”

“No.” The sea god instantly responds but you can see that he was instantly lying by the way he rapidly blinks his eyes to get rid of the drowsiness taking over his body.

Idiot.

“Come on.” You whisper, tugging at the sea god’s shirt, “Let’s go to bed.” 

“We still have—“

Instantly, you cut Poseidon off, “Seriously, do you have to have a reason to go to bed? Like what? You seriously can’t go to bed because you are tired? Exhausted?”

As you huff and puff, you finally after all these hours force your way out of Poseidon’s grasps. 

“Human—“

The next words fly out of your mouth before you can even stop them, “I want you to fuck me.”

.

.

“What?” Poseidon responses after a couple moments of silence. Staring at you like you had finally lost your mind.

“I want you to fuck me.” You answer once again, no shame, only frustration on your face, “If we can’t go to bed because we are tired, then I want you to take me to bed and fuck my brains out.”

After a couple of moments, Poseidon lets out a sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “Hum— (Y/n). We can’t just stop working because we want to have sex.”

“Okay. Then I want you to fuck a baby into me.” 

As you rebut once more, you walk back over and take a seat on the desk in front of Poseidon. Blocking him from continuing any work.

“(Y/n).” Poseidon warns, looking up at you with a glare. You were being awfully annoying right now, “I’m not knocking you up with my child.”

“I’ll ride you.”

“No.”

“Blow job?” 

“No.” 

“Pegg—“

“Absolutely not.”

Finally, Poseidon watches as you let out a sigh. Closing your eyes with frustration.

“Are you that desperate to stop doing work?” Poseidon can’t help but question as he leans back in his chair, taking in your tired self. 

“What? Can’t believe I’m just desperate for your dick?” You voice up with a chuckle, looking up with equally tired eyes into Poseidon’s.

“Oh, have I been starving you?” The sea god can’t help but respond with. A small tired smirk playing on his lips, “Apologies. I’ll make sure to fuck you at least once a week from now on to satisfy your cravings.”

“Oh shut up.” You scoff. Though you are unable to help yourself from getting off of the desk and back into the sea god’s grasp. While you hated to admit it, Poseidon was the only grounding you right now amidst the terrible migraine you were having.

“Let’s go to bed.” You murmur. Unable to fathom if you were this tired how the sea god felt. Based on the ever so slight dark bags underneath his eyes, he has likely been up for days. “Please?”

As you mumble out your plee, you can’t help but bring your head up to place a small kiss on Poseidon’s lips. 

You weren’t sure what was wrong with you but it felt right. Oh so right. Perhaps it was something wrong in your tired and frustrated mind but you didn’t bother to stop yourself. 

You didn’t even gasp nor flinch as Poseidon returned it. Not even as you gave one, two and finally a third tired kiss to his lips. 

“Hmm?” 

As Poseidon lets out a questioning hum, looking down at you with tired yet also playful eyes, you can’t help but shut him up with another kiss. This one having Poseidon sighing as he fell into your touch.

“Bed?” 

As you pressed another kiss to Poseidon’s lips, you knew you had won. 

“…fine.”

–.--.--.--.--

“Go mom!” You overhear Triton cheer from the shore, most likely to give you confidence but you honestly had no clue what you were doing. Hell, your legs felt like they were going to give away at any moment. After all, walking on water wasn’t a normal thing for humans. Though you guess it was natural for water gods and goddesses alike.

    “Quit buckling your knees, idiot.” You snap your head up to send Poseidon a glare as he stands alongside Triton on the shore, “You’ll fall face first if you continue.”

    “Easi–Easier said than done, ass–!” Suddenly, you find the heel of your shoes slipping and find yourself flying backwards. Shit, just what you needed today. Well, at least you didn't exactly prove Poseidon right, you are falling backwards not forwards.

    Just as you accept your fate, expecting to fall into the cold ocean water, a strong arm suddenly grabs you by your waist and stops you from falling in.

    “Idiot,” You gasp as you see Poseidon holding you, “I told you not to fall.”

    As the sea god brings you back to your feet, surprisingly giving you time to once again balance your feet, you can’t help but let out a small laugh, “As I said, easier said than done.”

    Poseidon scoffs at that comment but only shakes his head with a sigh instead of rebutting once more. 

    It was strange. Poseidon has been getting more quiet lately. Well, he has always been a man of few words but you've been receiving less glares and insults. You couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong.

    “Are you alright?”

    Poseidon’s eyes trail down from the sky to look at you, “Huh?”

    “Are you alright?” You repeat, concern clear in your eyes as you gazed at the sea god, “Like is something on your mind?”

    Poseidon is once again silent as he returns his eyes back up the clouds. He seemed to be contemplating something. As he did so, your stomach couldn’t help but twist into knots. For some reason, Poseidon not being alright made you anxious. You couldn’t help but feel that way. It was strange… but, for once, you didn’t question it.

    Suddenly, a loud screech cuts you off and you find your head snapping back to the shore at Triton. There stood the young child holding up a ginormous sea turtle. Almost as if it was some sort of trophy or prize that he just won.

    “Mom look!”

    “T-Triton!” You yell, frantically gesturing at the boy, “You can’t suddenly pick up sea turtles!”

    However as you did so, you missed the fact Poseidon had begun to open his mouth. Wanting to tell you something but as he saw you busy with Triton, he closed it once again. A small sigh leaving his nose as he returns his gaze back up to the clouds.

–.--.--.--.--

    “(Y/n),” You are caught off guard as you suddenly hear the call of your name. Blinking once, twice and finally a third time, you realized Poseidon was awake. His crystal blue eyes looking into yours as he carefully reaches a hand to touch your cheek. As he does so, you feel a slight touch of wetness and realize you have been crying. “Are you in pain?”

    What? You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. Why would you be in pain? 

    As you rack your brain for answers, you watch as Poseidon slightly lifts the covers to examine your body. What was he…? It is then that it suddenly hits you. Did he think he hurt you when he…?

    “No!” You frantically yell out, it coming out louder than expected causing Poseidon to freeze in his movements, “I’m alright… really. I’m not in any sort of pain.”

    “Then, Why are you crying?”

    As Poseidon caresses your cheek, you bring your eyes away from his, “Nothing.”

    “Nothing?” Poseidon questions in that usual exqustetery tone of his. Making you know he didn’t believe and that he wasn’t going to let it go, “You are upset. Why?”

“It's…” As you voice trails off, you bite your lip, “It's stupid.” 

“Hasn’t stopped you from voicing up in the past.”

“Hey.” At Poseidon’s comment, you can’t help but slap your hand against his chest with a pout. Though the sea god doesn’t even flinch, only rolling his eyes with a sigh. 

As silence overcomes you two, you find Poseidon still staring at you. This guy seriously won’t let it go. 

What a pain. 

 Anxiously biting your lip, you bring a hand up to weave through your hair. Damn it. After a couple of moments trying to muster up the courage, you finally find the words and open your mouth,

“I Love you.”

But, it wasn’t you who spoke. The question that was on your tongue was lost as you stared at the sea god with wide eyes. The three simple words he spoke resounding throughout your mind.

Author Note: It took forever but finally! Finally! This chapter posted! I’m going to go take a big fat nap because of this. Also I’m not sure if I’ll be too busy to make a post next week with the fact I have a couple exams and stuff. But I’ll try to make it up to you guys by either doing a character questionare or little what ifs or make a couple one shots. Idk, hopefully my schedule isn’t too busy next week and I’ll get to post haha. Taglist: @angeli-fucking-catt @marixxhq @sproutcorner @orophaea @anime-lover-forever-1127 @fortuna-stella @icy-spicy @sleepy-lad @cringey-otaku @tanspostsblog @diestheticu@holdyourwinecat @marixxhq @sproutcorner@orophaea@anime-lover-forever-1127@fortuna-stella@icy-spicy@sleepy-lady @cringey-otaku @tanspostsblog@diestheticu@holdyourwine

#snv poseidon #bivalve #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok