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abbatoirablaze · 1 year

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Big Bad Wolf, Chapter 12

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: heartbreak, angst, noncon, mentions of kidnapping, forced relationship, implied smut, stalking, murder, gun violence.

Lloyd’s hands tightened around your waist as you tried to shift again; the large hands keeping you standing, bent over the counter top, “you don’t have to move, baby…we aren’t doing anything wrong?”

“What the fuck is going on, Hansen? ” your dad repeated.

You went to speak but your mouth opened and no words came out. You couldn’t begin to tell your father what was going on. Dread filled you as you thought about everything that had happened since last Christmas. How you and Lloyd had began something so far removed from who you were as a person. How you managed to give this man that was very close in age to your father every last bit of you without a second thought.

When Jacob attempted to get you drunk, but Lloyd became your knight in shining armor, making sure you felt safe and protected. How his lips felt against yours when you two kissed, and how his bulge felt as he rocked himself against you; desperate for the same contact you always wished for.

How, you cheated on Jacob with Lloyd anyways. And while it wasn’t something you had intended on doing, it meant way more to you than any memory you’d shared with the younger Barber. But above that, you never bothered breaking up with him until you knew Lloyd wanted more.

How Lloyd admitted to Suzanne that you two had what he called ‘an incident’ at Christmas, but that he felt more with you than he ever had with her. And how in the summer time Suzanne left.

And the weekly cleaning sessions.

How hey had devolved to nothing more than you going over just to be pressed into the mattress. How two neighbors had become lovers, and even that transpired into something more; you mewling your boyfriend’s name as he came inside the condom he wore because you were terrified of the idea of becoming knocked up before you graduated high school, much less college.

“WELL?”

“Daddy, I-“

“Don’t call me daddy,” your father spat, his face twisting into a look of disgust as he watched the two of you still coupled together, “not after what I just heard. Not while you still have a man inside of you.”

Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach, and you paled. Your head turned ever so slightly so that you could see Lloyd in your peripherals.

How loud had the two of you been?

“I’m not going to apologize for how I feel!” Lloyd said quickly, bravely in front of your father, “I love her more than you’ll ever know. And I-“

“What the fuck is on her finger?”

Your gaze shot down to your hand.

A ring sat on your finger. You felt Lloyd slip out of you and you immediately turned to face him. Your lips were still parted, though this time over the unspoken question of the engagement ring on your finger. You held it between the two of you, surprise lighting up your face as you glanced between the diamond and his eyes.

“You said yes, baby…don’t you remember?” Lloyd asked, his brow raising as he nodded towards the ring, “we were in here making love, and I asked you to be mine…you said yes…you screamed it for me.”

Your eyes slipped away from his and your other hand went to the one with the ring on it. You were quick to begin shaking your head as you attempted to remove it, “n-no…no. Lloyd, I-we-you’re still marrie-“

“My divorce finalized last week, pumpkin!” he said gently, brushing away the stray hairs that were getting in your face. His hands went over yours and he stopped you from removing the ring, “this is what we talked about, princess…you said you wanted to be my sweet little wife. That you wante-“

“YOU WERE PLANNING THIS?”

You spun so fast it nearly knocked you off your feet. Lloyd’s arms wrapped protectively around you, cradling your naked form so there was some barrier between you and your father. The look across your father’s face was one of betrayal.

“I-I didn’t…we-“

“Baby…what are you saying?” Lloyd asked, spinning you away from your father and back to him, “we’ve been talking about this for weeks. How you wanted to feel wanted…and loved. And seen. I see you. I want you. I love you, sweetheart. And I want to marry you. Ever since last Christmas…when Jacob did what he did…and we-“

But he stopped himself shy, not wanting to betray the last ounce of your trust that he’d had in front of your father.

“Since what? What happened at Christmas?”

“L-Lloyd…I can’t!”

“What?”

“I-I don’t want this, Lloyd…I don’t want to marry you….”

Lloyd’s jaw clenched as he watched you. You were enjoying your life, acting as though he had never been a part of it. As though he’d never been with you at all.

After that day, his heart shattered. Sure, he was upset when Suzanne had left him, but you were his good little wife in training. You listened to his every word; hung off of it. At least, he thought.

But watching you tear that ring off your finger and rush to get dressed again was something that he hadn’t prepared for. He had expected you to be shocked, but he’d also expected to be able to talk you through it; to warm you up to the idea of being his wife.

But you ran away from him; acting like he was the monster.

It’d been a whole summer since he’d last seen you.

And most of the fall.

Lloyd sold his house and had moved from the neighborhood, letting everyone think that he was gone. He’d gotten back into the private sector, working off the grid for Carmichael to get his mind off of you.

A lame attempt, sure, but it did allow him one thing.

The freedom to watch you without you even knowing.

You’d been sipping drinks from a red solo cup most of the night with those other little sluts. They’d introduced you to parties and underage drinking. Being a little plaything for those fucking frat boys. They’d corrupted you in so many ways.

But he knew deep, deep down you were still his delicate little angel. His little dream wife.

His perfect little slut.

And tonight was the night that he’d planned so well for.

Tonight was the night that he brought you home.

For good.

As he cleaned his tools and looked at the dead frat boy that sat behind him, strapped and tied down to a chair a sick grin came across his face.

“What the fuck do you want from me, you sicko?”

The young frat boy spit out the blood that had been collecting in his mouth since Lloyd punched him hard enough to knock his back molar loose.

“You touched her.”

“What?”

“You fucked my girl.”

“I don’t know who the fuck your bitch of a girlfriend is. Just let me go man. I don’t know anything. Or anyone. I don’t even know who you are! I won’t go to the cops. I swear!”

“It’s a little too late for that,” Lloyd shrugged, “and frankly I wouldn’t give a damn about cops…you aren’t going to make it out of here alive, Chad.”

“FUCK YOU!” he spat, tears streaming down his cheeks. Lloyd smiled as he turned to quickly look at the picture of you and the frat boy.

It was a picture of the night before it’d progressed into him bringing you back to the house to fuck you. He picked it up and flicked it at the guy. His eyes strained so that he could get a glimpse of you in the ill-lit room.

“Know of her?”

“I only fucked the uptight little cunt once!” the frat boy swore, “I’m telling you the truth man. It only happened once. I didn’t know she had some boyfriend waiting on her. I didn’t know! The lying little slut said that she was single.”

“She’s free to do what she wants,” Lloyd shrugged, pulling his gun from out of the back of his pants only to aim it at his head, “and she’s my future wife…not some little slut.”

The blood had long stopped dripping from the front of his head a while ago.

And Lloyd had taken his time cleaning up.

But the boy still sat in the middle of his bedroom as he looked across the street.

The music had been so loud that no one heard the murder occur. The gunshot silenced by the aftermarket piece he’d attached to it.

You were oblivious to what was going on.

How the big bad wolf was just a few steps away.

And how he’d planned to take you back in just a few hours.

Because as you’d once said, ‘you were his…and only his.’

Tag List: @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @buckysteveloki-me, @eralen, @chemtrails-club, @bean-is-reading

#lloyd hansen smut #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #gray man #the gray man #chris evans characters #big bad wolf au #big bad wolf

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gritsandbrits · 6 months

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Another shrek spinoff i have takes place after the events of the last wish.

Fairy Godmother and charming are in purgatory, godmother tries to strike a deal with death wolf to bring her son back bc she feels he deserves another chance. Death wolf refuses. The fairy queen Aine intervenes and agrees to the trade. The catch is Charming must truly fall in love with someone WITHOUT magic. He needs to learn how to be a TRUE AND HONEST hero. He can't cheat/pass someone off as his true love either. Godmother reluctantly accepts.

Charming wakes up in the middle of the woods with no memory, but is picked up by a royal lady named Odelle who takes him to her mother Odile. Charming and Odelle hit it off immediately. Odile asks charming about the state of his mom's factory which Charming said was shut down, the wand in custody of the royal family. Believing her daughter to be his true love he proposes to her. A royal ball is held, and during it highwaymen raid the party and the leader the dreaded White Swan, takes Charming hostage. Lady Odile orders them found.

While they're far away, the White Swan takes charming to an outpost, they tussle a bit and charming accidentally knocks her mask off revealing a scarred woman. She quickly tries to kill him but it stopped by her number 2. The white swan reveals herself to be Gwynn, the leader of a resistance against the von rothbarts. She says Odile plans to wipe out all magic to avenge the death of her father, and wage war on the enchanted lake where Gwynn and her friends view as a safe haven. She believes that godmother's wand is the key to their success. Gwynn already heard about Charming's previous actions so she doesn't trust him. But with the persuasion of her teammates and desperate to save her people, she opts a deal with him. If He can help them take down the king then she can help him find him his true love.

Over the story, Charming would be challenged on everything he learned in his past life. He learns that more to life then material things and seeking revenge. The penultimate twist is gwynn is the princess of the kingdom that was taken over by Odile (her grandparents were the original stefan and odette). Gwynn had argued with her parents the night before Odile invaded, and she feels awful so decides to actively lead a resistance to make up for being a brat. And she and charming learn that they have a lot more in common.

Gwynn's companions would include characters based on theatre: the charismatic and flirty Carmen from the opera Carmen; the shy Giselle (from the ballet); Sela the Constantly Singing Ice Witch (parody of Elsa); and the youngest member, Clara a sentient nutcracker puppet. Each would help Charming learn a new aspect of himself; like Carmen helping him learn true confidence, Giselle teaching him forgiveness and mercy; Clara teaching him to find magic in the mundane, and Sela helps him improve his godawful singing. Gwynn would show charming how to care about things and put something legitimately important.

Odile would've been if charming never learned to outgrow his mama's boy tendencies. Odile is still loyal to her father at her big age and pushes that same thing onto her own daughter. Odelle always goes along with her mom no questions asked. Gwynn's group meanwhile helps Charming learn to think for himself WITHOUT going to selfish territory.

And there's a scene where everyone manages to evade odile's forces by going towards The marshlands, ending up at a very familiar swamp...

This isn't canon to my rewrite of shrek 3 more like an au

#gb asks #shrek #puss in boots the last wish #the last wish spoilers

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teecupangel · 8 months

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Hey, wanna read me defending myself in my plans to multiclass Desmond into a Rogue-Thief/Ranger-Gloom Stalker?

The thing about trying to play as Desmond in Baldur's Gate is that I'm forcing the narrative to work around my need to min-max in terms of classes allocation.

Narrative choices are easy because Desmond's more on the side of neutral good, sliding into true neutral with the whole 'stab them when it's clear they killed an innocent' guideline.

But the classes though... the thing about Assassins in Assassin's Creed is that they're not exactly a 1:1 of the Assassin subclass.

So my reasoning for the plan to multiclass Desmond into Rogue-Thief (4)/Ranger-Gloom Stalker(5) is...

Thief subclass is chosen because [Fast Hands] means +1 bonus action which would make it easier for Desmond to hide and/or dash/disengage. Hiding is the best way to get the Sneak Attack actions. [Second-Story Work] means less falling damage which could made into our narrative workaround for Leaps of Faith. Assassin subclass was passed over because Thief has more utility and Assassin is more combat oriented with focus on attacking targets that have not taken a turn yet. This could, narratively, be more or less the equivalent to the Hidden Blade's oneshot kills but it doesn't work because early level Rogue has a hard time oneshoting enemies at low level. Rogue will be leveled up to Lv4 so Desmond can get another Feat (Ability Improvement: Dex +2 to up it to 20)

Gloom Stalker Ranger is chosen because Favoured Enemy [Bounty Hunter] gives Investigation Proficiency and Natural Explorer [Urban Tracker] gives Sleight of Hand Proficiency. Narratively, Urban Tracker goes well with Desmond's background and his Bleeds are experts in the urban areas of their time. Anything that gives more Investigation Proficiency is good as part of Eagle Vision. Lv 2 will let us get Speak with Animals and Enhance Leap (Enhance Leap is pretty much necessary since Str is needed for jumping but Str is a dump stat for Rogues so yeah, we'll have Desmond cheat for this one). Lv 4 will let Desmond get Gloom Stalker subclass and automatically get Disguise Self which means we can put the Disguise Self helmet (I forgot the name) back to camp ([Dread Ambusher] is also more consistent than the Assassin subclass unique skills)

The reason why we're going for up to Lv 5 Gloom Stalker is that Desmond can get an Extra Attack + Misty Step at Lv 5 (and he can get Past without Trace as well for extra stealth)

This does leave 3 more levels to allocate and we have some options:

Rogue up to Lv 7 so Desmond can get Uncanny Dodge + Evasion and an additional 1d6 for Sneak Attack damage.

Ranger up to Lv8 so Desmond can get another feat (probably Dungeon Delver for Advantage on Perception and Saving Throws to avoid/resist traps or Savage Attacker if Desmond can now safely melee) and can get Land's Stride so he won't be slowed down by difficult terrain.

Rogue up to Lv 5 for Uncanny Dodge and an additional 1d6 for Sneak Attack damage + Ranger up to Lv 7 for an additional Lv2 Spell Slot.

Or... we go and lean into Desmond being a bartender and have him multiclass up to Lv3 Bard (or Lv2 Bard with Lv5 Rogue + Lv5 Ranger) so he can have more spells (probably Detect Thoughts and maybe something like Feather Fall? idk) or we go for Lv3 Druid (Wild Shape) as a reference to Tyranny of Washington DLC (which does have wolf and bear in the Circle of the Moon)

#desmond in faerun #where teecup shows how she normally plays rpg #look min-maxing is kinda a compulsion of mine #teecup plays as desmond in other games #just be happy i'm keeping everyone in their original class #except i changed shadowheart from trickery to light #because light is just much more tankier #and i need a tank

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amatchinwater · 2 years

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When Trust is Earned

Warnings: blood, canon typical violence, near death experience, cheating (not between Steo...technically)

Ch 4/14 (Ch 3)

Strange Frequencies (ao3)

---

“He’s going to kill me! Can’t you see it? Why don’t you see it? He’s trying to kill me!” His mother continues to yell at him and tears spill freely down his cheeks. Stiles’ father wraps his arms around his mother’s and carries her away, all the while she keeps screaming that he’s trying to kill her.

The intensely sharp focus around his vision fades back to normalcy and Stiles’ realizes now that he remembers what the Dread Doctors took from him. They’re fucking intense. Malia wasn’t kidding when she said it felt like you were back in it again. But they didn’t do anything to him, only took a memory from his past. Why would they do that? What’s their gain from making him forget one of the most traumatic experiences of his life that they weren’t even involved in?

And why would his mom think he’d do that? Had the dementia really gotten that bad that she started to attack him? Stiles has this feeling that it’s not just the Doctors that buried that memory. If they did it at all. Maybe it was his own trauma response leaving him with a blank spot and reading the book unlocks any repressed memory you might have.

“Mom,” he wheezes, panic wrapping around his lungs making him struggle for air. Reading that book was an awful idea and he wishes he hadn’t done it. That was intense and now he’s going to have a fucking panic attack over it on the roof. Great choice of place. He desperately tried to only think about the good memories of his mom for a reason.

Now he’s having flashbacks of the worst moments. Her panicked screams and all the times his dad had to take him out of the room until she calmed down. The times she never recognized him. The really bad days when his mom didn’t even know who she was. That’s a lot for anyone to handle, especially an eight year old boy. So many fucking memories he didn’t know he had flickering behind his retinas like a movie on fast forward.

It hurts so fucking badly.

His vision blurs with tears as his heart slams irregular beats against his chest. And there’s no chance to stop it either. Somewhere to his right Stiles finally registers the crackling electricity and the growling. No sooner does he try to turn his head to see what’s going on is he flat on his back. A dark haired chimera with long, sharp teeth is swiping at him with his claws. The human barely had enough time to raise his arms up in defense, while he yells. For help or just to scream, he can’t really tell with the way his blood is rushing in his ears.

As quickly as the chimera attacked, he’s gone. Yanked off of him by Theo. Not Scott or Liam. Hell, not even Malia came to his rescue. Theo did. The wolf’s features are rugged from his shift and his claws have sprung free, “stay back,” he slurs, whipping back around to deal with the chimera.

The darked haired creature rushes him and Stiles can only stare in wonder as Theo punches him square in the chest and the chimera goes flying. The wolf jumps after to keep him away. Scared and horny, table for one? Sign Stiles the fuck up. He backs up until he hits the pointed window and plasters himself to the concrete edge. His mouth falls watching Theo fight. Really fighting. He only caught the tail end of the wolf’s appearance with Belasko.

But then Theo’s on the ground and the chimera stomps on his wrist. That’s gonna hurt. Stiles can’t help the yelp at the sight. Theo’s getting himself hurt, risking his life, over him. Then it happens so fast, the human can barely keep up. Theo is on his feet with his hand around the chimera’s throat, golden eyes flick his way for a millisecond, and then it’s over.

The crunching sound of the dark haired boy’s throat is deafening. Blood sprays as Theo snarls, ripping his throat out like it’s nothing. No effort at all. The chimera falls to the ground, dead before he even makes impact. Just one final gurgle as biology pushes the remaining air out of his lungs. Theo’s still growling, blood dripping from his hands. When golden eyes lock onto the human, he’s still shifted, but his features soften with worry.

“Are you okay?” Theo asks, panic evident in his voice, chest heaving from the fight. He nods because of course he’s okay, the wolf just saved his fucking life. That’s it. The final morsel of Stiles’ resolve is gone. Animosity towards the wolf is nonexistent. Seeing Theo with a panicked look on his face that he might be hurt. The last of his wall is but dust in the wind. “Don’t say anything to Scott. Please.”

Stiles certainly hadn’t planned on it. Doesn’t really want to either. But still, he’s curious, “why not?”

“Because I never said anything about Donovan,” Theo replies, human features returning to his face. Bloodied hand still at his side, but the claws have rescinded. Meanwhile Stiles is standing there trying to pick his jaw up off the floor. “I know everything.”

Just when he’s prepared to let the wolf in. Agree that Theo’s not that bad of a person after all. He just somehow knows his worst secret and is trying to use it as blackmail. What the fuck? Stiles snaps, not caring that he just watched the wolf kill someone, he lunges. Fingers curling in Theo’s long sleeve as he shoves him back into the fence. Electricity sparks all around them from the impact. Stiles ignores the irony. “You don’t know anything,” he seethes, his guard slowly rising back up.

The wolf’s words and actions are more than ready to knock it back down again.

Theo chuckles, “you shouldn’t tease me like that, Kitten,” effortlessly flipping them, causing more sparks to light up the air. Pressing their bodies flush, he continues, “but I assure you, I do.” His fingers twitch around Stiles’ biceps and the human relaxes into his touch, not even remotely afraid. “I saw the scaffolding come down and then the body.”

He’s told no one about what happened. No one. There’s no way Theo would know the details about the scaffolding if he wasn’t actually there. “Why were you even there?”

“No one could find you,” Theo explains. Well, duh, the human fell asleep at the library while researching. “Malia said that the last place she saw you was the library, I was only a few blocks from the school and offered to check on you.” The wolf winces, “by the time I found you, Donovan was already dead. The only reason I didn’t say anything was because you didn’t. Stiles,” his tone gets serious, “it was self defense.”

How is he supposed to think clearly when the wolf is this close? Stiles is but a simple boy and Theo is doing all the right things. Saving his life, assuring him he didn’t do anything wrong in terms of Donovan, and flirting with him in the smoothest way possible. His heart doesn’t know what to do and is having a field day in his chest. Something the wolf definitely notices.

One of Theo’s hands slides down to his waist and he presses his hips harder, “tell me something, Stiles.” There’s a glint in his eyes that the human can’t bear to look away from. “What’s that jump in your heartbeat for? Is there something that you want?” The question is a tease, like Theo already knows the answer. He smirks, showing a hint of teeth.

Part of him clings to the idea that he shouldn’t be doing this. Theo just killed someone. He’s also a bit of a dick. He shouldn’t have said that. Because now all he can focus on is the way Theo’s very hard dick is pressing against his own. And just like that, all rational thought is gone. Stiles licks his lips and shakily nods.

“Tell me,” the wolf repeats. “Anything you want,” Theo shifts, his knee moving between Stiles’ legs and the human groans, “it’s yours.” The wolf leans into his neck, his breath makes Stiles shiver. His lips brushing against his skin as he speaks makes him gasp. “Tell me what you want, Stiles.” Blue eyes meet him and Stiles feels dazed. High off the wolf and he never wants to come down.

The human tries to lean in and kiss Theo instead.

Theo pulls back, just out of reach, his eyes darkening and smirk widening, “no, baby. I want to hear you say it.”

Stiles isn’t even remotely swooning at the name. Not at all. He totally is. All he can smell is Theo’s cologne and its spicy notes are melting his brain. He wants the wolf more than he can express with words. And he’s being a little shit and forcing them. “Kiss me,” he requests breathlessly, barely able to get the two measly syllables out.

The hand not on his waist- the one covered in blood- comes up to rest on his throat. Not taking his breath, just to hold and Stiles’ vision gets blurry with want. Need. Theo digs his knee in, evoking a whine from the human. “Close, Kitten, try again.”

But he said it! He said it like he was asked to! Stiles’ brain tries really hard to piece together what exactly the wolf is asking. Memories of the dark bathroom dance in his head. Theo telling him that he only had to ask for what he wanted. Right after saying he preferred- “I’m not calling you Daddy.”

Theo lets out a breathy chuckle, “you just have to ask properly, that’s all.” His eyes flicker gold, “come on, Kitten,” he rubs his thigh again and Stiles’ eyes threaten to roll back. “Let me hear it, just once. Please,” he whispers so coyly.

When did breathing get so hard? Stiles is practically panting, dilated eyes desperately trying to focus, “Daddy, please kiss me”

The wolf’s smirk widens and he growls, “good boy,” before finally kissing him.

Everything gets quiet. Stiles can’t hear the static behind him from the exposed wires. Can’t feel the cold metal fence against his head. Nothing apart from the wolf’s tongue slipping into his moaning mouth and Theo’s hands gripping his waist and throat. And his leg, god his leg grinding against his dick ignites a delicious fire inside of his core.

Blunt teeth dig into his bottom lip and Stiles moans, head falling slack in the hand around his throat. Theo nips at his jaw, his hand falling from the human’s waist to palm his tented pants, “can I?”

Stiles nods wildly, “fuck, please,” whining as the wolf kisses his jaw, licking up to his ear and he works the buckle of the human’s belt open. Just as his fingers attempt the button, sirens sound off in the distance, snapping Stiles back to reality. There’s a dead chimera not ten feet from them!

“That’s not an ambulance,” Theo’s hands pause, “is it?” Stiles shakes his head no and the wolf growls. Frustration evident in his brows as he helps buckle the human’s belt back up. “We should do something with the body,” he says, walking towards the chimera.

“Like hell we should,” Stiles straightens his hoodie for the sake of having something to do with his hands and not stupidly pull the wolf back to him. Already cold without them being pressed together.

“You said it yourself, someone’s taking the bodies.”

Stiles gives him an expectant look. Because exactly, someone will take it and no one will know what Theo did. That should be a good thing.

“Now’s our chance to find out who.”

Shit. He’s right. If they can bring the chimera somewhere safe, they’ll be able to see who wants their bodies so badly. “Dammit,” Stiles mumbles, joining Theo, “alright, we should take him to Deaton’s. Maybe whatever is taking them abides by the laws of mountain ash.”

---

Josh. That’s his name. Putting a name to the chimera didn’t make what happened any easier to swallow. Getting him out of the hospital unnoticed was a fucking menace. But somehow they managed. Putting Josh’s body in the back of the jeep, they burned rubber all the way to the vet’s office.

He knows Theo did what he had to do for them to survive. Just like he did. Self-defense. That doesn’t mean that killing someone is an easy feat. And somehow they were able to convince Scott that it was one of the Doctors that did it and not the other wolf before he left to meet Liam about this other possible chimera. Stiles probably should’ve gone with him, but all he wants is to stay beside the guy who just saved his life.

He clung to Derek after he protected him from Peter.

There’s no going back now, is there? Not now that he’s lied for Theo. He can still be a little shit about it though for being emotionally blindsided.

“What happens now?” Theo asks, shifting in the passenger seat.

Stiles sighs, “we wait.” The painstaking part of all of this. They’ve already been sitting here for hours. Staring at the damn watch showing Josh's body.

“Wanna take shifts?” Theo asks. “I mean, you did just go through a lot of shit, I understand if you want to rest for a minute.”

“No, I want to spend some quality time with you,” Stiles deadpans. Not to mention he’d like some fucking answers. He may mostly trust Theo, he may like Theo, but that doesn’t mean that the whole feeling of unease has gone away. Not now that his upstairs brain is the one in control again. Something is still off. Stiles just doesn't know what.

The wolf just smiles, “sounds good to me.”

At his wits end, Stiles snaps, “you have to fucking talk to me, Theo.”

“Am I not already?” The wolf asks innocently. Stiles glares at him. Hard. “Alright, alright,” Theo holds his hands up in defense. “What do you want to know?”

“Why aren’t your eyes blue?” The entire time on the roof, the wolf’s eyes stayed gold. That shouldn’t happen after taking an innocent life. Because Josh being kidnapped and going batshit crazy from whatever the Doctors are injecting him with definitely isn’t his fault.

Blue eyes roll before looking out the windshield, “I didn’t kill him just to kill him. I killed him to protect you.” Theo faces him again, features soft and earnest, his hand reaching over the center console to brush against the human’s forearm. “And I’d do it again.”

“Why?” Stiles didn’t mean to whisper it, but there’s something intense in Theo’s eyes.

Theo’s brows pinch for a second, but it seems like he realizes Stiles isn’t going to back down without a proper answer. “You remind me of Tara.” That’s not what he was expecting to hear. Pretty sure you don’t make out with someone who reminds you of your dead sister. “She was a pain in my ass and smarter than everyone else too; just like you. I wasn’t lying when I said I came back for you. I just didn’t tell you the whole reason.”

Stiles bristles, this is why he didn’t trust Theo. Half truths and broken explanations. And now the other shoe is dropping and he doesn’t think he has the strength to catch it.

“I like you. In case that wasn’t obvious by now.” Oh. Not really a surprise, but not what Stiles thought he was going to say. He’s still a little skeptical though. “I want you to be the best you can be with me. But I need you to trust me first.”

What in the fuck does that mean?

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll keep trying until you do. I’ll find a way to make you mi-” Theo breaks off, eyebrows knitting together and his nostrils flare. Stiles opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, but the wolf is already answering him, “I smell something burning.” His head perks, and when he faces the window all hell breaks loose.

Kind of literally. Bright orange light emerges from seemingly nowhere. Then the passenger window is broken and Theo’s head whips back towards him, blood spewing from his mouth, covering Stiles’ face. Panic sets in even worse when the wolf is yanked out of the jeep. But Stiles can’t see anything aside from the glowing light. Roscoe creaks as she jolts and Stiles can barely hang on as she’s flipped upside down with him still inside.

Everything goes dark.

Stiles wakes up feeling like he’s moving. Squinting an eye open, he sees Theo dragging him out of the flipped, burning jeep to safety. His lungs ache and his throat feels like it’s been replaced with sandpaper. Coughing does not help, but he can’t stop it. He vaguely hears Theo asking if he’s okay while cupping his face, but Stiles can’t answer just yet. His tongue is dry and his throat is throbbing. All he can offer is a half assed shrug and another cough.

The wolf growls, looking like it takes every shred of willpower to walk away from him and put the jeep back on her wheels. “You took in a lot of smoke,” Theo says when Stiles gets up on wobbly legs. “We should get you to the hospital.”

His legs make a valid attempt to carry himself closer to the wolf as he shakes his head, “no,” he croaks. However, once he’s vertical, Stiles’ vision swims, soreness settling in his limbs.

“Stiles?” Theo’s voice is like an echo in his head. The human’s body goes limp, “Stiles!” The wolf catches him before he can hit the gravel and scoops him up into his arms. “I can help you without taking you to the hospital.” Theo brushes their noses together to try and get him to focus. The wolf’s face is blurry at best, “do you trust me?”

Stiles can only nod before blacking out again.

---

Terrified doesn’t even come close to how Theo feels right now. This is nowhere near how tonight was supposed to go. He and Stiles were supposed to sit in his jeep and hopefully just see who was taking the dead chimeras. They weren’t even planning on stopping whoever it was. They simply wanted to know. Surely the thing attacking them while set ablaze was far down the list of scenarios Theo was prepared for.

He isn’t even afraid of whatever it was that attacked them. The chimera is actually pretty sure he knows what it was too, if the Dread Doctors’ research is accurate. Which, it hasn’t been wrong up to this point, so money’s good that they’re correct and it’s a Hellhound taking the bodies. Doesn’t mean that the chimera knows who the Hellhound is however.

And no, he’s not just going to skate over the fact that he knows about the Doctors’ research or the fact that he has access to it. Or that he’s a chimera. It’s just not all that important to him right now. Getting Stiles to the tunnels is what’s important. Saving his life; again. In less than twenty four hours from the last time he did. That’s what’s important to the chimera.

Always Stiles.

The Doctors have never been the best…parents? Guardians? Whatever the fuck you want to call them, they sucked. Theo basically had to fend for himself growing up. He was their lackey. Their medical experiment. He’s positive the only reason that he’s as well read as them is so that he could be of proper use to them. Help with their experiments when needed and things like that. Theo imagines it’s like when fathers have their sons hold the flashlight while they work on a car engine.

Only with more yelling and actual beatings.

His upbringing wasn’t a walk in the park.

With that being said, there were a few times they’ve shown a gentleness towards him. Like when he went through puberty while being a supernatural creature. Theo had never seen them show that much patience before. Or the one year that Tara’s anniversary hit him like a crashing plane. The Geneticist sat down with him and explained to him that she’ll never truly be gone, that Tara lives on in his very own chest. Even coming from her, Theo was shocked at the kindness. Granted, it was cryptic at best considering Tara’s heart is quite literally in his chest, but kindness nonetheless.

So he has hope, which might be very stupid, that they’ll help him save Stiles.

Theo has to try at the very least.

Which is why turning the ouroboros door handle whilst carrying the dying human in his arms makes perfect sense to him. Crossing the threshold, the stone wall of a door closes on its own with a soft thud. Stiles weighs nothing in his arms as Theo turns the corner, finding the Surgeon leaning over the body of a girl with her chest cracked open on the operating table. The Pathologist, like always, is scouring his notes while the Geneticist is filling a massive syringe with the green liquid encasing the lowenmensch.

As always, the Geneticist is the first to notice his presence. “Theo,” her voice accompanies a series of clicking behind her mask. “You’ve found another candidate,” she nods towards the teen in his arms. That was always a part of his job. Getting other teenagers to trust him so Theo could bring them back to the Doctors. Makes sense she’d think that. Not this time.

That gets the Surgeon’s attention, whipping his head up as quickly as he can, “a new subject?” He hisses. “Let us see then,” he carefully places his tools on the side table and stalks towards the chimera.

“No,” Theo growls, pivoting his body to protect Stiles. “He’s not a test subject for your Beast.”

“Then why is he here?” The Pathologist doesn’t even bother looking away from the papers in his hands. Not the least bit surprising.

“You said I could have a pack if I helped you find teenagers for your experiments.”

Barely reminding the chimera that they were once human, the Geneticist crosses her arms and leans against the container, “that we did.”

“After you get the Alpha spark,” the Surgeon reminds him.

“This is Stiles,” Theo explains. “He’s dying,” the chimera chokes.

The Pathologist finally perks up and he’s in front of Theo in the blink of an eye. “The one possessed by the Nogitsune? The carbon copy?” Of course that would get him interested.

But if it means that they’ll be more inclined to help, so be it.

Theo nods, “yes. You said something about the Nogtisune leaving a piece inside of him. Which means he’s already a genetic chimera.”

“Get to the point, Theodore,” the Surgeon demands.

“I haven’t asked for anything outside of being an Alpha and having a pack. Which I can do myself. But I’m not an Alpha yet,” Theo takes a cautious step towards their leader.

“So you want us to save the boy, is that it?” The Geneticist asks.

The Surgeon returns to his tools, adding another clamp, pulling the stomach apart. Great, another wendigo on its way. Because Donovan was so great. “What good does us saving this boy do?”

The chimera fights a growl, knowing good and well that his sentence alone could get him in enough trouble. “My continued cooperation and loyalty.” The leader drops another clamp and it clatters against the rest. It’s a bad idea to let them know his importance, but Theo’s at his wits end here on how to save Stiles. “He’s everything to me. Please, I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me for ten years without question.” Knowing she’s probably the only one in this room with a functioning heart, Theo focuses on the Geneticist. “You made the mixture that created me. I never once showed signs of being a failure because of it. If you think you can do it. Please, save him.”

“Fine,” she states, “put him on the other medical chair. I’ll see what I can do.”

---

His smell and hearing come back before Stiles is able to open his eyes. Wet. Everything smells wet. Like mildew and sewage. He can hear dripping against the floor. But that’s not all he can hear. Over the sound of his own pounding heartbeat is another. It’s erratic, but whoever it is doesn’t smell spicy like you’d think anger would. It smells sour with worry. It takes Stiles a painful moment to realize that he shouldn’t be able to have either of those senses working that well.

Amber eyes fling open and he’s grateful for the dim light down here, because even that feels too bright for his eyes. Stiles has to blink hard several times before he’s sure the light isn’t too harsh. He’s somewhere underground if the lack of windows and musty air is anything to go by. Damp concrete walls and floors make up the room he’s in. Atop a cushioned medical chair with a metal table off to the side with several test tubes, syringes, and vials. Where the fuck is he?

Theo said he could help him without taking him to the hospital. Is he in a basement somewhere?

“I wanted to wait for this,” Theo’s sighs, emerging from the shadow in the corner of the room. His voice is thick with emotion and it’s crystal clear on his face he’s remorseful about Stiles’ being here. “But I couldn’t let you die. They gave you something for the pain. You feel okay?”

They? Stiles nods, wary of his voice and well, everything right now. He’s glad he’s lucid despite whatever drugs he was given.

“I’m going to tell you everything,” the wolf says, sliding a rolling chair beside him and sitting down. “I’m not a werewolf. Well, I am. But that’s not all I am. I’m also part coyote.”

Anger bubbles inside Stiles, “you’re a chimera?”

“The first chimera,” Theo nods. “The Dread Doctors found me when we were kids and manipulated me into watching Tara die that night rather than get her help. They raised me. If you could call it that. I was just a science experiment to them with a use,” the chimera scoffs. “Playing my part dutifully to ensure my own survival while they try to make their Beast. I never wanted you to get hurt and I wanted to be able to tell you on my own time. But Stiles-”

“You lied to me!” Stiles shouts, glad his throat doesn’t ache from the outburst. He can’t believe it! Well, he can. He knew something was off with Theo, but he never imagined it being to this extent. “This whole time you’ve been working with the Dread Doctors and I’ve been blind to all of it!”

“Kitten, please,” Theo tries to cup his cheek, but Stiles shies away. “I want you. No matter who raised me. Who manipulated me, that will never change. You are the one good thing I get out of all of this. I asked them to come back to Beacon Hills so that I could be with you." His voice is thick with emotion, "please, don’t push me away.”

“Theo, I-” love you? Want you too despite everything you’re telling him? Need you? Stiles’ brain has always been quick to think things through. And being able to hear Theo’s heart, there isn’t a single blip. Theo’s telling the truth in saying that he was a pawn. A child who was kidnapped by evil scientists and bred to do their bidding. Even if he might kind of like the effects after all this time with them.

The chimera drops his head, “the only way I could save you without bringing you to the hospital was to let them turn you into a chimera too.” Theo holds up a syringe with vibrant green liquid, looking back up at him, “it’s your last dose. Will you let me?” Stiles thinks back on all the failures and blanches. “It’s the same mix they gave me. You’ll survive it.”

“Yes.”

Ch 5

#teen wolf #steo #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #theo x stiles #stiles x theo #ao3 fic #Match Writes

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whumpdoyoumean · 1 year

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Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Tagged by @deepwoundsandfadedscars! Thank youuu!!

I don't know who to tag which I guess defeats the purpose of these things but please if you see this and feel like playing along, do it!!!

First lines are under the cut!

The Broken Hearts Tour (The Penumbra Podcast; Junoverse) "Are we sure this set list is where we want it?" Juno asks, plucking the still-warm piece of paper from the printer tray before it's even had the chance to settle and skimming his eyes over the page with a thoughtful frown.

Everybody Bleeds This Way (911) As bitterly as he likes to complain, Buck doesn't really mind cleaning the rig, especially on days like today. It's late morning and the sun is shining in a cloudless blue sky, and it's warm enough that the water they're using to spray down the outside of the engine is refreshing rather than shiver-inducing. Somehow it's worked out that it's just four of them-Buck, Eddie, Hen, and the captain-and as things wind down, Buck is feeling ready for some end-of-shift shenanigans.

Prodigal (Fire Country) Bode wants to kill him.

He wants to kill Odin.

We Can Be Heroes, Just For One Day (Stranger Things) Eddie and Dustin aren’t in the trailer, and the makeshift rope looks like it’s been cut, lying in a heap on the floor beneath the gate. Steve’s stomach lurches. He almost throws up, probably would if he’d actually eaten anything recently. Instead he dry heaves twice, until he’s left trying to catch his breath.

If anything happened to them, if anything happened to that kid--he can’t even think about it.

Many Partings (Stranger Things) “Nancy!”

Steve has seen a lot of terrifying shit these past three years. Confusing, sickening, shake-you-to-your-core action horror movie bullshit. Not just seen, but been through. Survived .

But of all the terrifying shit, this is the most afraid he’s been.

Because in this moment he feels truly, utterly helpless.

And because this is Nancy.

“Nancy, wake up!”

Damn Your Kiss (And the Awful Things You Do) (TPP; Junoverse) As much as he doesn’t actually want to be here, Juno has to admit pit boss has a nice ring to it. With the casino owner herself overseeing all activity on the floor from the security booth, really what he is is a glorified bouncer, here to act as a deterrent in case anyone feels like cheating. Taumata seems to think the eyepatch and frown give him an edge.

Beside the Still Waters (Grantchester) Will is in a particularly good mood. It's a warm, sunny evening, the streets lit by the orange glow that comes in the last weeks of summer, with a hint of crisp coolness hitching a ride on the tail end of the light breeze. He's just finished checking up on Matthew, who's doing remarkably well considering everything he's been through.

Juno Steel and the Inside (Wo)Man (TPP; Junoverse) The case starts the same way many cases start, with two words, spoken by Juno Steel.

"Why me?"

Break (Wolf 359) Eiffel looks over at the MRI machine from his perch on the table and shivers. The whole hospital is cold, but this room feels colder and the thin gray sweats and white tee they've given him don't do much by way of warmth. His arms are covered in goosebumps. But the shiver that runs down his spine has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Something about the small, cramped space is awakening an icy dread deep within himself, an inexplicable need to be anywhere but there.

The Spy Left Out in the Cold (The Man From UNCLE) Waverly is unfolding a crudely drawn map when Napoleon stretches in his seat in an obvious display of boredom that has Illya rolling his eyes.

"I don't know what you're so worried about. It sounds like a simple extraction," Napoleon says with a sniff.

"Oh?" Waverly says.

"Another rich politician's entitled son, kidnapped from his private school or Wimbledon lessons, taken for ransom or leverage or whatever these bastards are after. We'll just waltz in, kidnap him back, and take him home to daddy. Simple."

#tag game #first lines game #fanfiction #my writing #my fic #*cries at my two unfinished WIPs*#sorry babes #maybe one day i will finish you

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ahordeofwasps · 1 year

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Find the Word Tag

I’ve been tagged by @spuddlespud! Thanks for the tag!

Before I get into the words I have been given, the no pressure tags! I’ll be tagging @jamieanovels, @afoolandathief, @winterandwords, and @hottubraccoon! Your words are care, cool, chatter, calm, and construct!

My words are bring, boom, bloody, body, and but! I’ll be sharing excerpts from three different WIPs, sorted not by word, but by WIP. It will be told not in the initial order of the words, but by whether or not said work I’m sharing has an excerpt with a content warning. I’ll start off with Crying Wolf (no content warning), followed by Steve’s Trial (cw: child death) and then there will be Refurbishing the Fleshy Horrors that have Entered Our Reality for Profit (RTFHTHEORFP) (cw: gore). The last two excerpts (body and bloody) will be the ones with content warnings. I’ll repeat the content warnings for these excerpts. If any of these content warnings are not adequate, please let me know and I will update the content warnings accordingly.

Crying Wolf

Boom

Theo didn’t dwell on the demon’s familiarity for long. Soon after the demon arrived, it was the 14th Sect’s turn to try to succeed where the 13th Sect had failed. Theo had barely any time to say goodbye to Claudine and when he did so, he wished he wasn’t saying goodbye at all. Claudine looked tired and her voice lacked the booming energy it usually had. Something was wrong, but he did not know what. He didn’t know what and he knew there was nothing he could do to help, at least not at that moment. All Theo could do was hug her and promise to return. It was a promise he didn’t know if he could keep.

Steve’s Trial

But

But Steve wasn’t human. He had no eyes, at least none in the biologic sense, nor did he have skin. He didn’t even have a brain to fry. All he had were bones. He was a walking skeleton. Currently, this walking skeleton was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of plaid trousers held up by suspenders. Instead of panicking, Steve looked around the room.

Bring

There was nothing Steve could do to bring Mason back. There was nothing he could say that would ease her pain. No matter how hard he wished. Steve didn’t have a heart, but something inside him ached.

Body, cw: child death

He wished he could close his eyes, but he had no eyes to close. So, Steve moved as fast as he could, guiding the soul into the briefcase with his hand, before slamming it shut. He wished there was something to say, but the job was done and there was nothing he could say that would make it better. He rushed out of the bungalow as fast as he could, leaving the mother to cradle her son’s body.

RTFHTHEORFP

Bloody (cheated a bit with this one), cw: gore

I place my hands on my lap, my fingers clutching the fabric of my pants. Slowly, I force my gaze to follow Dale’s to his hole. The pit of dread in my stomach is screaming at me to not look. To become nauseous. The rational part of my brain yells at it to shut up.

I look into Dale’s hole. There isn’t shale at the bottom of it. Instead, I see the broken white of bone, surrounded by a viscous pool of dark blood. Chunks of mangled meat are floating in the pool.

#cw: gore #cw: child death #writing #writeblr #tag game #horror #fantasy #science fiction #crying wolf #cryingwolf #Refurbishing the Fleshy Horrors that have Entered Our Reality for Profit #RTFHTHEORFP #steve's trial #stevestrial #tnfoc

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inkpprhrt · 1 year

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It's a paralysing feeling to lie in bed next to somebody and still have loneliness enveloping you like a fog. I close my eyes, consumed with dread, grappling with the existentialist notion that my life is a lie and that any day now someone will catch me out. You're not as clever as you pretend to be, you know. You say that you feel nothing, and that is hardly ever true. That, my friend, is why you find it so difficult to sleep.

Day in and day out I experience the same sameness and find it difficult to breathe. Every cigarette I put in my mouth is laced with the flickering hope that it will be the one to kill me. I cry wolf so often you have laid your cape to rest. Save yourself, you say calmly. Or stay this way. Either way, I don't really care.

The indifference astounds me, and I open my mouth but no words tumble out. I look like a fish. I look ridiculous. You know what's really ridiculous, you ask wearily. It's that you continue to stand here and pretend to be a decent human being when you're a liar and a cheat.

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braveolpabear · 2 years

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Wiley the devious Coyote Bandit from the heavenly planet Pleasure Paradise

Wiley the sneaky, cruel, greedy, sleazy, cynical, mean-spirited, cunning, selfish, crude, spiteful, ill-mannered, vindictive, scheming, unsympathetic, controlling and domineering Coyote Bandit Leader who, along with not just his fellow nasty Coyote Bandits but also his fellow Wolf, Ferret, Raccoon and Weasel Bandits, has a lust for wealth and material gain. He and his whole gang of Coyote, Ferret, Wolf, Raccoon and Weasel Bandits spend the majority of their entire existence on each island of the planet Pleasure Paradise swindling, cheating, robbing, threatening and plain intimidating almost anyone that stands in their way, in most cases, Farm Animals such as Pigs and Sheep and certain other innocent Animal Furrie including Elephants and Hippos. Wiley along with his gang mostly enjoy looting farmhouses all over every island in Pleasure Paradise of their well-earned Dragons Treasure and reducing them to extreme poverty before leaving them them to fend for themselves. Wiley and his Animal Bandit Gang are also allied with Kariah the monsterous Dragoness Empress from the dreaded planetoid Medievilonia along with her entire private army of MediEvil Dragons mainly due to their mutual dislike of Papa Bear and his protective guardian angel aka Jodie the Pink Heavenly Whippet whom they clearly despise. Although it is not fully explained it is heavily implied that Wiley and his Animal Bandit Gang somewhat learned a Hypnotic Spell from one or even several of the cruel most experienced of MediEvil Dragon sorcerers or Dragoness Sorceresses that they use as a mind-control tactic to control and brainwash then exploit a few other innocent Animal Furries like Gorillas and Rhinos for example into carrying their bidding such as looting barns of their hidden Dragons Gold before burning them down. Wiley's best friend is Spyra the vindictive Purple Dragon and Papa Bear's former childhood hero-turned nemesis because they similar motivations involving manipulating vulnerable Animal Furries like Giraffes and Zebras into raiding various locations (occasionally The Castle of Heaven) of the lost, remaining Dragons Treasure. However their plans almost always get thwarted by numerous individuals, not always Papa Bear or his guardian angel Jodie, sometimes Bingo the wisecracking Springie or his best friend Berny the funny Beagle Furrie. When this happens Wiley and his dreadful friends come face-to-face with an angry mob, mostly their hypnotic victims Gorillas, Lions, Elephants, Giraffes, Zebras and Warthogs, before getting brutally beaten up by their irate victims. A few of their fallen teammates get a powerful spell cast on them making their kind (Coyotes, Ferrets and Raccoons) stupider while making the would-be Animal Shamans (Hippos, Rhinos, Vultures) highly intelligent though their leaders Wiley and Spyra somehow always manage to escape along with remaining teammates in order to regroup. Regardless of a few of his past failures Wiley is determined to use every drastic measure to get what he wants, thus making him along with his Animal Bandits and his Dragon allies a serious threat to the Barnyard🐺🦊🦝🐲🪄💰🪙🏝️

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sinsbymanka · 3 years

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Thank you so much to the AMAZING @ashalle-art for bringing my lovely Maria Cadash/Solas/Varric polycule to life! She made me two versions of this beautiful piece of art and I literally couldn’t decide which one I like best SO THEY’RE BOTH HERE.

This goes along with Cheating the Dread Wolf Chapter 6.You can see the uncensored version there if you’d like!

Uncensored Elven Glory and Dwarven Pride Direct From Pornzammar Here

“If you loved me you would-”

“I would what?” Solas releases his bag only to draw himself up to his full height. Maria isn’t cowed. She lifts her chin to glare levely into Solas’ pointed features.

“I would turn my back on my people?” Solas rails. “Become your court magician? Warm your bed while your husband is away?”

Maria opens her mouth to keep arguing, but Varric’s low rumble cuts across both of them. “Bed’s big enough for three.”

Maria’s mouth clicks shut. Solas swings his eyes to him, weighing him carefully. Varric rolls his shoulders in a careful show of nonchalance. “Could even still fit Mags in if she has a nightmare. I’d pay real gold for some cushion between me and that child’s knees.”

While both of them look at him, he inclines his head towards the bed. “Care to give it a shot? My money’s on all of us fitting just fine.”

“Why?” Solas asks, bewilderment lacing his voice.

Because Varric loves her. Because she loves both of them. Because, in spite of himself, there’s a hole somewhere Solas once fit and nobody else can slide into it. Varric is still looking up, half expecting to find Solas walking past with a can of paint years later.

“Author’s curiosity,” Varric lies. “I want to see what it would have been like.”

#ashalle-art #manka writes #varric tethras #solas #dragon age #cheating the dread wolf #female cadash #female cadash/solas/varric tethras #lemon #shameless smut

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ladyinthebluebox · 2 years

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One Evening Sketch II/?? >> Harellan (n.) traitor to one's kin

#solas #dread wolf #lady's art #one evening sketch #his profile is worth shattering the veil for #you won't change my mind *shrugs*#this one is a bit of cheating on my part 'cause i was meditating on the proportions of his face for a week and ended up tweaking it a bit #still not 100% happy but eh #it is what it is until i'll decide to give it another go #now sleep.

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fluffyapplecat · 4 years

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Sculpted a Dread Wolf statue out of clay, stone spray paint, and moss for a friend's birthday present! I'm new to clay but I like how it turned out! DA4 cannot get here soon enough omg

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dread wolf #solas #is it cheating to put it in that tag #whatever all i could do was think and cry about solas whilst making it so #this was fun!#fluffyapplecat does art

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seiyasabi · 2 years

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Unspoken Rule

(Hi, I am an Armin lover, and I wanted to write a dark fic ab him lmao. So, here’s a Yandere Armin x Fem Reader Modern/Soulmate AU story :P

TW: Wolf in sheep’s clothing!!!, manipulation!, possessive!, harassment/bullying on a college campus!!, blackmail!, drugging!, kidnapping!, intimidation!, threats of violence!, etc..

Please proceed with caution! Also, I’m so sorry if this sucks lol, I didn’t proofread it or anything. After that JD edit of Armin I couldn’t get him out of my head.)

The counting starts when you’re born- that’s how it always starts. The little clock right above your Heart continuously counts down until you meet your soulmate, your destined partner.

When you were younger, you were so excited to meet your future lover, eyes blinded by fantasy and the media. The Media almost never showed when those partnerships fell apart, always telling stories of love, promise, and loyalty. But, that only truly happens for the lucky.

As you grew, you realised just how selfish the world is. You saw your friends get cheated on or become a cheater. You saw how a friend’s lover died before they could meet, stopping the clock forever, the mark never fading, reminding him of what he never had. You saw how your friends’ partner would beat them, belittle them, abuse them, yet they never left them, because they were ‘destined’ for this.

So, you started to cover the mark. It didn’t bring you joy any longer, only cold, heavy dread. If you could, you’d sever the connection yourself before you ever met the person you’re supposed to be eternally entwined with.

People called you crazy for not wanting to meet your soulmate. They called you selfish, said you’d regret how you reacted.

Little did they know that your soulmate, Armin Arlert, was someone you should be afraid of.

At the exact moment your clock strikes 0, you run into someone. Practically falling on your ass, you start to scold the other person for not watching where they’re going, only to stop in your tracks. Above you stands a blond, short haired man. The man is quite handsome, his blue eyes twinkle in the sunlight, and his jaw quite defined. He’s gawking down at you as if you’d just proposed, entire body practically quaking.

Your little stare off ends with the sound of you scoffing. Standing to your feet without issue, you brush yourself off, before beginning to walk away. You hear the blond gasp, falling out of his stupor, as he shouts an indignant, “Wait!”

He catches up to you in no time, grabbing your hand in his, “Why are you walking away?” His voice sounds so small, as if he was just a young boy, “Aren’t you excited? I’ve waited to meet you for so long-”

You yank your hand away, holding it close to your body with your other, “I don’t believe in soulmates,” You don’t mean to sound cruel, but once the words leave your mouth, you can’t help but flinch at how cold you sound. The blond man flinches too, face falling into a heartbroken and anguished expression, “Soulmates almost never work out. I’ve seen them fail time and time again, and I don’t want to be played a fool,” He looks at you as if you’d just taken his heart out of his chest and crushed it, “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to know you. If I do, I may fall under your spell and completely lose myself.”

“You won’t even give me a chance?” Tears are streaming down his face, his lips quivering in pure agony. By this point, the people walking around on campus have stopped, watching in shock. Some of them are filming, but most are just staring. It’s almost unheard of to see a soulmate refuse the other.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s not because you lack as a person, it’s because I’m a coward. I’m too scared to commit to something so serious,” You try to keep walking, but he grabs your hand again. When you try to pull away, his grip tightens.

“If-if you get to know me, you can decide if you want me then! Please don’t completely rule me out, I promise that I’ll treat you right! My name is Armin Arlert-”

“Armin!” A loud voice cuts him off, as two people barrel forwards, past the forming crowd. The man that called out to him has brown hair, which is currently pulled back into a manbun, “Armin, we came as fast as we could!” He clasps the blond’s arm that isn’t holding your own, before glaring down at you. He bares his teeth like an animal, aura radiating bloodlust, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You refuse to even give him a chance! He hasn’t done anything wrong to you, yet you treat him like trash?”

Trying to keep strong, you keep your features neutral, “He deserves better than me, so I’m letting him down before we can ruin each other.”

The brown haired man literally spits in your face, his saliva dripping down your cheek slowly, “You’re a fucking bitch! The only problem here is you- I should kick your ass for what you’re doing to him!”

A petite hand lands on the angry man’s shoulder, a hushed “Eren, stop it,” being heard. The woman is very pretty, but the anger on her face practically twists her features, “She isn’t worth our time- if she’s too selfish to see that Armin is perfect for her, let’s leave her to her sad life. We should be cheering our best friend up, not making the situation worse.”

You somehow still hold strong, wiping the slowly falling spit off of your face, “I’m sorry for rejecting you, but I hope you can move on quickly and have a good life.”

With that, you yank your arm free, and walk towards your dorm. People glare at you as if you’re some kind of monster, yelling all kinds of obscenities at you. Some even shoulder check you as you go, but that’s ok.

It’s all going to be ok… right?

Nothing is alright.

“-You’re lucky I didn't kill you, bitch! You deserve to die for what you did!” Some girls cornered you in the bathroom again, all of them taking turns in beating the dog shit out of you. The head girl, Ymir, snarls down at you, eyes burning in fury. Before the whole soulmate thing, she and you were pretty cool, you might even say that you were friends. But, ever since the live streamed event, she and many others have taken it upon themselves to punish you. Apparently, Armin is quite popular.

“You better go to him and beg for forgiveness. If he forgives you and gives you a chance, we’ll leave you alone,” She grabs you by the (hair/back of the neck), peering down at your bloodied face, “If not, I’ll make sure I ruin your pretty face, so everyone can see how ugly you truly are.”

You give her a bloody smile, a laugh forcing its way past your lips, “If he’s willing to use violence and intimidation to quote-unquote ‘change my mind,’ I believe he only proved me right,” The freckled woman’s eyes widen a fraction, showing her shock at your unwavering will, “So, if you continue with your violence, I’ll be forced to do something extreme.”

She raises an eyebrow, the other girls shifting uncomfortably, “Oh, yeah? What would you do? You can’t win when it’s 9 vs 1.”

“You’re right, I typically wouldn’t. But, if I post the evidence I’ve collected involving all of you, who truly wins? Right now, I have a timer set to post this conversation, amongst other pieces of evidence that will make you all out to be criminals,” The bathroom is so silent, you could hear a pin drop. The freckled woman swallows harshly.

“Do you think they’d care about you? You deserve this for what you did,” Wiping blood off of your face, you sit up tall, not flinching at the pain you’re currently in.

“I may seem like a bitch to all those who watched the video, but this entire situation proves my reasoning for not wanting to dive into a relationship with him. I know that he knows about this; I have proof that he does, and that he even encourages your behaviour. That Eren guy sure is a loudmouth,” You laugh again, blood dripping down from your bloody nose, “So, it just shows that you all are accomplices to blackmail, bullying, stalking, and assault. Those are all crimes, if you’ve forgotten.”

They all start to back off of you, “How are you even able to prove this?”

You smirk, the blood on your teeth making you look even more menacing, “I started to record our conversations, and I also have a spy cam. I have all of my evidence uploaded on multiple different accounts, all of them set to post my proof at different times.”

They all stand there in shock and fear, before 8 out of the nine of them run from the bathroom. Ymir stares at you, you can vaguely make out admiration in her eyes, “That was sneaky.”

“And you all made it easy to document your harassment.”

With that, Ymir leaves the bathroom, leaving you all alone in your own puddle of blood.

You listen to her fast footsteps, waiting until you can no longer hear her retreat. Once the hallway is silent, you wobbly stand to your feet, hands gripping the nearest bathroom stall to keep you upright. Once stable, you limp towards the bathroom door, wiping at your bloody nose once more.

Stepping into the hallway, you turn right, aiming to go back into your dorm, but a certain blond man stops you in your tracks.

“What the fuck do you want?” Your words are sharp, acidic like a viper. This obviously stuns him, his blue eyes widening.

“I-I heard that you ran into some trouble, and I was worried-”

“No you weren’t. You knew what they were doing this entire time- I heard Eren on the phone with you. You may be able to manipulate others into blindly following you, but I know what kind of man you are. You can’t fool me,” Shooting him another venomous glare, you try to walk past him, only for him to grab you by the shoulders, and slam you against the wall. An uncharacteristic scowl is on his face, his grip on you tight enough to hurt. There’s no footage in this hallway, but that isn’t a problem. The spycam hidden in your necklace updates the feed on your pending post in current time.

“That’s not true! I like you so much, I couldn't bear to harm you,” Tears bead his eyes, just like the first time, causing a gruff laugh to leave you. Did he think that you’d fall for this?

“Stop lying! You may think that you like me, but you aren’t above harming me- you’ve had all of your friends do your dirty work for you for the past few months!” He cries crocodile tears, sobbing in a broken voice and everything.

“Why do you keep saying such mean things? We’re supposed to be destined for each other, but you keep hurting me,” He brings his hands to his eyes, breath hitching with every shake of his body.

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t want to hear this from you! You’re such a hypocrite,” Wiping blood off of your face, you watch his wipe at his tears, his performance pitiful at best, “You have your lackeys physically hurt me almost everyday, so I think me being a little mean is warranted.”

He shakes his head, still trying to convince you of his innocence, “Please, please just give me a chance! I’ve waited for you my entire life.”

“Fuck off, you pathetic rat. You pretend to be a good person, but I know that you’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” You both stand there, his tears suddenly coming to a stop. He stares at you, eyes suddenly emotionless. There’s an uncomfortable silence, before he begins to laugh.

“Why can’t you just be good? You’re supposed to be mine,” And so the real Armin appears, “I’ve waited for you for years! You’re the only thing I ever wanted- that’s why I always get good grades, and want a high paying job. I want to give you the world, all I ask is that you give yourself to me. We’re destined for one another!” If you were anyone else, that would’ve worked. He sounds so pitiful, so truly hurt.

“If you cared about me, you’d let me go. I feel like it’s very obvious that we want totally different things, and that you don’t respect me or yourself enough to stop your selfishness,” You hiss through gritted teeth, face bleeding a bruised, “You literally had people jump me, follow me home, harass me! Do you call that being a good soulmate? Who knows what you would’ve done to me if I just fell into your arms the first time!”

A smirk makes its way onto his soft features, “I would’ve done the same exact thing- I would’ve driven everyone away from you until all you have is me. All you need is me.”

An alarm sounds from your phone, alerting you that one of your posts went up, “You’re a bad person, even if you play the part of a nice man very well. You may have your friends and everyone else fooled, but they won’t believe your facade any longer. The police will take you and my harassers away, and I will never have to deal with you again.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” A needle stabs into the side of your neck from behind, injecting you with an unknown substance, “You’ll have to deal with me for the rest of your life- a certain man is helping me make sure of that,” He nods at the person behind you,”I may not be able to get a good job in the normal world, but with his help, I should be able to get a high position in his family’s organisation.”

The necklace around your neck is yanked off, discarded on the ground, followed by your phone that was once in your pocket. It’s currently vibrating nonstop, multiple notifications lighting up the screen.

Whatever they injected you with is strong enough to make you woozy on your feet. The world around you is practically tilting on its axis, making you fall back helplessly. Whoever is behind you catches you with ease, practically sweeping you off of your feet.

“You can rest for now, but once we get home, you need to deal with the consequences of your actions.”

#aot x reader #yandere aot #yandere aot x reader #yandere armin #yandere armin arlert #armin x you #armin x y/n #armin x reader #soulmate au

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strawberry-nugget · 3 years

Text

𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 | E.Kirishima x Reader

Pairing: Kirishima/ reader, Bakugo/ reader (mentioned)

Summary: You shouldn't want him and he shouldn't want you, it's sinful and forbidden. But he can't help coming back to you, and you can't do anything but take him in every single time. Until today that is.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Aged up characters (twenties), NSFW 18+, plot with some p//rn but it's not very detailed, unprotected sex (please use condoms everyone), cheating, casual penetrative sex, jealousy, the seggz is pretty vanilla though

↪A/N: tennis player Kirishima, tennis player Kirishima, idk how I came up with it but I can't get it out of my head, written for @doinmybesthere 's 3k event collab and based on The Hills by the Weeknd, don't be shy to tell me if you liked it, I almost wrote 4k in a day which is unusual for me

5.30pm [Missed Call: Red]

5.31pm [Missed Calls(2): Red]

The bubbling notifications are spamming your phone, each call, succeeding the other in persistence and length, making your phone crawl onto your coffee table in restless buzzing. To your salvation the device is on silent; you're just unable to bear the overwhelming sound of your ringtone echo through the empty walls of your apartment, to let it bounce between concrete like a slimy ball, only for it to hit you on the face with tremendous force.

It's one of those days that you can't answer Kirishima. Too perplexed in the wields of your mind, blaming yourself for this horrendous situation, delivering raw swears at him for simply existing.

You don't know how it came to this nor when was the exact moment things switched. Was it at the party that you met him? Or the thousandth time you took him in and let him ruin relationship after relationship. Either way it was horrible for not only you, but also him, and all the people that have been caught up in the sidelines of this rotten affair.

You shouldn't want this anymore and truly, you don't. You're tired of being the second choice, of hiding behind your little finger, crying yourself to sleep at night, only to put on a sultry face for every time he comes. Once, twice a month.

[New Messages: Red]

Babe, you there?

Read 5.38pm

[New Messages: Red]

Babe I got practice at 8.

I know you're reading those.

Read 5.39pm

[Red is typing…]

[New Messages: Red]

I'm outside btw

A fresh, tremendously sharp wave of anxiety rushes through you at the little notification -it can't be like this again, not today. The thudder in your chest is unbearable, heart too weak to stomach the weight of your decision, fingers too reluctant to type out your response.

He's probably smirking while staring at his phone, not a single care in his head. It's loathing to your mind as you confirm your speculation, shooting a glance out of your window, landing your eyes on his car.

He shouldn't be here.

His thousands dollar car doesn't belong in your urban street, not in your side of the town. And it's so dangerous that he's doing this to see you. You've played the worst scenarios in your head a thousand times, millions of headlines on sites and the news about this; Eijirou Kirishima, on his way to claiming a fifth Grand Slam, caught in affair with university student.

Atrocious, degrading, exposing. A hit to his career that would bother the media for a couple of weeks and paint your name in mud along the way.

Why can't he just be content with the model that he's with? You're nothing like her, not as pretty and you don't have her body, you don't have her face, but he still says he finds you better, says he knows you better, but he just can't be with you.

[You]

Can't do it today

Sorry

You're good to yourself, only when you deny him and only when you feel the satisfaction of being the one to do so. It's pointless to sulk over saying no. He can go fuck other girls, play with their hearts and leave you to your otherwise peaceful life. Even if it is just for today.

You don't have the chance to let a smile creep to your face when your doorbell rings. The jiggling sound bursts into your eardrums once and twice, three dreaded times and they're enough to make your stomach churn, your neck tight and your skin ache.

You contemplate on opening the door for him, subconsciously letting yourself feel like a vulnerable prey, who, after running away to save yourself, is choosing to walk into the wolf's den, so willingly that you can feel yourself drifting away with each step you're taking towards the door.

"Babe,"

The swing of your door handle, the crack of your wrist, the creaking of your door as it opens to reveal him; they're all embarrassing. You can't tell if they fall short on his ears, too caught up in the way he looks -all swollen muscles and tall legs. You're running out of courage to say no and he knows this.

He's not as innocent as this cheeky smile frames him out to be, he's not the sweetheart everyone wants him to be either.

He's Eijirou, who's selfishly standing on your door, who's barging his way in your apartment, who's grabbing your cheeks and slamming your face in his, biting your lips until he draws blood, just to punish you for standing up against him.

Your door is slammed behind him, one bend of his knee and it's falling into its rightful place. To shield the sins of your affair, to bring you comfort and privacy as he attacks parts of your neck, your chest. Places that only squeeze perfectly under his touch.

"Babe," He calls again, in between soft kisses. "What's gotten into you?"

You frown and try to look away, past his cocoa colored orbs, past the swelling that's taking over his lips -and yours- with a numbing, tingling sensation.

"Eijirou—"

"I don't have much time in between training, I got a game the day after tomorrow."

It's always like this, you know. He doesn't have to tell you twice or try to excuse his own self for what he does or how he acts. You're pushed between schedules, or slammed into his timetable like a truck when he feels like indulging with you again, hidden between the lines of his free time.

You're sure at this point that it's the thrill he's after. The sinful taste of your lips on his, how he feels in control while chasing after you, when you can't keep up with him.

His lips don't taste like sour cherry anymore, but you let them wiggle against yours with triumph, you let him want to catch his breath as he pulls back and you put the minimum effort in returning the passion you receive.

You pull back, ignoring the words he's whispering against your face, only to take in his features once again.

Soft black hair pulled into a low ponytail, spiky bangs that fly all over his face and his tips drowned in a fiery, foxy red. The only reminder for who he was before his tennis career blew up. For who he was before he turned into this cocky womanizer whom you're desperately after with a longing heart.

"I'm just not in the mood today."

"Well let's get you in the mood then huh?"

He smiles, nose scrunching and chapped lips hiding behind his gums as his hand moves to your thigh, tagging your shorts with furry. As if he's desperate to have you, right here and now. As if bending you over the couch will help put out a fire in him. That's how he always convinces you to keep this going.

He's making you feel like not having you this way is insufferable.

You're buried in the crook of his neck while being pushed onto the couch, nibbling a soft spot that you've found, rubbing his skin on the top of your tongue. You know how to do this without leaving a mark, you can hold back from wanting to take all you can get from him.

But today it's different. It's going to be the last time.

It's not like any other time you've told yourself that you are going to end this. Today you're going to leave a mark, you're going to bite your way into his skin and drink from his poison -the intimate attention he's only ever willing to give- and you'll get drunk in it.

"Fuck," He grunts against your lips. "Fuck, don't stop that feels good."

You don't stop, eager to listen to him, to breathe into his neck before you wrap your lips a little lower and closer to his collarbone. You should be asking if this will cause him problems, but gone is the guilt that veils your coinsense otherwise. You suckle on a spot and then another, stealing his groaning moans one by one as they fall from his lips, plushing them softly in a spongy part of your brain, where they can rest forever, until you've forgotten them.

"Get your shirt off Eijirou," You plea, ogling eyes watering from the pressure that's applied in the apex of your thighs and he's quick to follow your command, lips curling upwards in a sweetheart smirk.

You're going to miss the way the apples of his cheeks cover his eyes when he smiles like this. But there's no going back for you and him.

With legs that feel like burning rubber you hug around his horse, watching the way his muscles flex and fold with his snappy movements. His shirt, tousled and wrinkly, tossed in an unknown corner of your living room, only for him to guess where it is after he's gotten his fix of you.

Thick fingers probe at your sides, pulling your shirt downwards in a silent plea, take off your shirt, give him the satisfaction that he wants, indulge into this as much as he wants you to.

But today, you're not in the mood for this. So instead of pulling your shirt off, you unbuckle your pants, pulling them down at the most dreadful speed, making him bite his lip impatiently.

You won't miss this, the way he's expecting so many things of you.

And if he notices something's wrong, he doesn't say a word, presumably content with getting what he wants; the rear view of the gap between your legs, where he can bury himself and get lost for the next thirty minutes.

"Fuck baby," he moans. "Why do you smell so good?"

You grunt, averting your gaze from his as he pushes your bangs away from your face with the back of his hand. You want to miss his puppy eyes. Ghosting him won't be easier for you if you don't.

But damn if he couldn't read you this well, things would be easier.

"Not in the mood to talk?" You look even further away to avoid the question, "babe, you can tell me if you're not well, you'll feel better if you let it out"

You don't need someone to tell you how to feel. You've decided when the two of you are going to be through. It's set and done, even if he feels at the top of the world right now, you won't inflate his ego anymore.

"M fine Eijirou, put it in," You bite his lip, putting huge effort in making him forget about what he thinks it's bothering you. "Want you to put it in m'kay?"

Sultry, fake voice, he's heard it all before and he doesn't have the right to call you out for it. Whatever he does next, you're his for the moment and for the last time.

Repeating is your rightful way of convincing yourself of not giving up on your decision. If only he could have broken up before deciding to wet himself in you, if only you hadn't taken him so eagerly, if only you hadn't become just like him. Welcoming him despite availability status, afraid to lose him, saying that a little sex wouldn't hurt. If you could do this on repeat, then you could get rid of him quite as easily.

You're not better than him and he's taken your vulnerability to him for granted. He's loved the attention you've paid him from time to time, whenever he's given you so much as a mere call.

You should pretend to moan, to hurt his ego, but as he's delving into you, slowly, mellowy, his kisses feel like burning sunshine, August breeze against your skin, kissing your shoulders lightly. It hurts that this salvation is coming from his mouth, as it moves rhythmically against every inch of you.

"Fuck, fuck, ah, you feel so good, you know that?"

You don't answer, nor do you wrap your lips around him. You don't move them against his when he goes to kiss you, but you coo into his warm embrace once his hands come to cradle you in a tight embrace.

"I love you," He slips up and you contemplate on whether you have to start hating him from this very moment. "I just wanna be with you, I—" He grunts. “—this is why you don't believe him, but nonetheless you hold a moan in as well. "Fuck, I'll break up just for you.”

Now that's a new one. A new addition to the long list of red flags you have with his name on top. You can't fall for it. You absolutely can't. If you do, he'll treat you just like this, he'll fuck behind your back and kiss you goodnight before going off to sleep with someone else. Like he's slept with you, once, twice, thrice.

And you're going to hate being the one who's fooled, despite deserving it more than anyone else. And another girl, or guy, is going to be his subject of desire.

You shouldn't want him to be yours, but you're lewding your 'I love yous' out of your mouth like they're nothing, poisoning your heart until there's nothing left but dust and sucked up blood, all devoured by the greed he's made you feel.

"You love me too?"

"I do," You cry, rocked between him and the couch, neck hurting by the way he's digging his teeth in yours.

"I'll fucking leave everything for you babe,"

He shouldn't. He won't. You tell yourself he's only saying this because he wants to come, to make you feel dirty with his actions and fish out words that make him ecstatic or send him over the edge from your mouth.

Rhythms are peaking, his hips burning from his movements, foreheads are dripping in sweat, lips taste salty against each other. The perfect picture, the most tingling sensation, and you're too fucked to go back, or keep yourself content with him. It feels the same as the last time, a numbing knot in your stomach, commanding you to rip your heart out and throw it away, spooning mewls out of your mouth.

If you could, you'd mute him, not wanting to listen to how beautiful he sounds as he's coming down from his high. If you could, you'd look away, and wouldn't try to burn the image of his body as he's falling apart in your mind.

"That was—" The sigh that leaves his chest through his mouth is liberating, you can tell—"amazing. I still love you, so much babe."

His hand soothing the pain of his thrusts, does nothing to make you feel better. You want to shove it away, but you don't, unhappy with the way you're turning out to be.

"It's time for you to go, Eijirou, isn't it?" You remind him. A hand pushing him off of you and quickly smoothing your T-shirt over your legs to deprive him of the view that'd make him wear a smug of triumph.

"So quick to get me to go. Did you find someone else again sweetheart?"

You don't reply as you're putting on your underwear and pants, shoving his shirt into him with a heavy hand.

"You did, didn't you?"

"None of your business, go off to your practice, your girl, don't patronize me anymore."

He gruffs, beautiful features scowling in that stormy gaze that reeks of his authority, "Here I am pouring my heart on you and you found someone else"

"Eijirou, it's seven thirty, if I were you, I wouldn't be late for practice. You got a game the day after tomorrow."

No more dealing with his pouting, you're going to bawl your eyes out if you have to do it. The sooner he's out of your house, the sooner you'll get this over with; the tight lamp in your throat, the image of him smiling at you like this, him admitting feelings that he shouldn't have.

Hurting him isn't the role that suits you. Because you can't do it. You can't hurt that warm sunshine he has on his face. He has to be the one to hurt you like he's been the one to drive you away. It's too late for him to change or reverse your roles.

You don't want to fight and he knows it.

He knows you, so well, well enough to use you as he wishes to, letting you believe you're using him too. You're going to make him watch you slip away, and he won't do anything about this.

So he's eager to leave as you're pushing him out of the door, he doesn't cup your cheek with his hand, and doesn't kiss your forehead tenderly like he always does.

"You should come to this party Mina is throwing, let me meet your new guy."

Like hell you'd ever do this, he knows, but teasing won't hurt a bit. Eijirou can deal with you dating other men, he's claimed you well before, he'll do it again if he has to, especially now that he's decided to have you.

"Yeah yeah, and if I do, don't ever call me again, 'kay?"

You're too good to not do as he says, or not to fall back to him, and he's too good to not come back to you. To him, you're a match made in heaven, to you, you're a lost cause, burning in the fiery pits of hell as atonement for your sins.

He doesn't know that you'll fall apart before dressing up, how you'll tell yourself you're not doing this for him, but as a statement against him.

You're no better than him, in fact, you're worse.

…

The only problem is, that when Eijirou pulls up at Mina's party after practice, you're already there. Drink in your hand, flared jeans hugging your legs, layered tank tops that cover the bruising truth of this evening, laughing at whatever your friends are saying.

When he puts out his phone, calloused fingers furiously typing a text addressed to you, you're too far gone into another glass, dancing a little dance before grabbing everyone's cups to go for a refill, greeting them in that silent way of yours, drunken smile.

And then you'll pass him by and blink at him, you'll mutter a small greeting and he'll grab you by the hand and whisper in your ear just how hard he'll take you driving the night. You'll swoon, moan, forget about the drinks and follow him anywhere he leads you.

That's how everybody knows about the two of you.

This time, though, you don't cast a single eye on him. In fact, you're tainting him, walking past him while ignoring him, leaving him awestruck and hurt, like his confessions earlier in the day meant nothing to you.

It's a hit to his heart, how your jaw drops as you bump into Bakugo over the kitchen counter, eyes too wide at the sight of him. How your finger dances playfully on his chest and as you smile at him when he whispers something in your ear.

It's infuriating how you drop the cups near the sink and follow Bakugo outside, or how the blond waves at him with a pressed smile against his lips, signaling that he'll be busy for a while.

His insides churn, tummy aching in a feeling of guilt, one unlike anything he's felt before. Losing you doesn't taste in the way he thought he would, it's worse; sour and poisoning. It makes him flee the party, furious and bitter.

When he's back, his body is heavy, feet dragging him across his apartment, mind blank as he follows his basic routine before bed time, fixated on how easy it seemed for you to just ignore him and flee with one of his friends as soon as he came over to the party he invited you to, wondering how you could be so ruthless with him all of a sudden.

Sweet talking Kirishima with a smile of gold, the sweetheart of the professional Tennis scene and you're over him in the split of a second, pushing him away from you without an explanation or heart wrenching speech. Not giving him the satisfaction of some closure, just forcing the cold tempo of your sudden departure in the depths of his heart.

He pays no mind to the girl that sleeps beside him, back turned to him like she's oceans apart, despite the unspoken bound that's keeping them together. He'll leave her, make up for all the damage that he's done, in any way that he can manage to.

It all comes down to the fact that no one can love you like he does, no one can want you like he does. Someone can do it better, but you have to want him.

5.30am [Missed Call: Red]

5.31am [Missed Calls(2): Red]

[New Message: Red]

Fuck, with Bakugo out of everyone?

Delivered: 5.31am

[New Message: Red]

Did you have sex with him?

Babe answer me.

Delivered: 5.32am

[New Message: Red]

I'm breaking up with her tomorrow morning.

And I'll come over.

Babe.

Babe please.

Delivered: 5.33am

[New Message: Red]

I'll take you on a date and we can talk about us okay babe?

Let me know when you wake up.

I love you.

So much.

Delivered: 5.38am

Read: 10.23pm

[You]

(Attached Image)

Sorry 'Red' even if you sound like a total douche, cheeks forgot her phone at my place.

I bet on her answering your late night drama when she takes her phone back.

[Red is typing...]

Super thanks to @celestidarling for proofreading this and giving me the biggest pump of confidence to post

↪Up Next: Dragon King Bakugo

#eijirou kirishima #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #bnha #kirishima x y/n #bakugou x reader #Kirishima #mha fanfiction #mha #bnha fanfiction #kirishima fanfic #tw: cheating #kirishima smut #bnha smut #mha smut

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