#past assult hinted at

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Hey first of all, thank you for your writing! I enjoy reading your work a lot. I wanted to request an addition to the older sister! Reader AU where the avengers manage to catch a person who used to be a high ranking officer in the red room and has a lot of intel. They specifically requests to see reader. And reader goes in and the person is smug and taunts r about everything she did under dreykov and what dreykov did to r. (Hints to a lot of sexual assult trauma, if you dont mind) and r has gotten used to the taunts, having bward plenty during her red room days. Carol though who was outside in the interrogation room with r’s sisters is livid. She is very protective of r and so she comes inside the room angry. But as the person keeps taunting and saying demeaning stuff about r u still remain unaffected but carol cannot take it. I mean thats the idea I had, you could do whatever u want with it! Thanks again. And sorry for the longg request

Mine to Protect

Family is More Than Blood Masterlist

There things in this story that be triggering of people, please advise the warnings!

Warnings: heavy description of past sexual experiences (usage of handcuffs, voyeurisms, power dynamic, ) implied sexual assault (uses it to taunt the Reader and Carol), original male character uses pet names from the reader, gross dirty talk, past trauma mentioned, self harm, death of an original character, mention of killing, Carol is hella pissed this this and protective.

Relationships: Carol x Reader, Yelena x Natasha x Reader (Platonic), Avengers x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 3.0k

All of your life, you’ve known pain. The pain was physical suffering\ or discomfort. It caused great trouble, and it could be mental or physical. Pain in the Red Room was negative. It was mystery hands that held you down and took whatever they wanted from you. Hours spent at training, at the ballet bar, or forced to kill your fellow Widows because of an order given. You hated pain and all the negative thoughts that came with it.

However, your life changed. It wasn’t contained by the Red Room. You had room to grow, dream, and create the person Dreykov tried to destroy. Now, pain wasn’t always negative. There was pain that morphed into pleasure when Carol bit down on your neck and soothed it with her tongue; a warmth would fill your belly. Sometimes, you went a little too hard as you trained against Steve and felt each punch from the super soldier, but your laughter bounced off the walls. Other times, you brunt your hand when cooking with Wanda or lose an arm wrestling match with Maria. All that pain was good, a reminder that you were free.

You sat outside. The brisk New York fall air filled your lungs. There was an ache in your fingers as you played the guitar. It would take time for callouses to form on your fingers. You heard the door open and close, but it didn’t stop you from humming to the song you were playing. It was Steve, Tony, and Maria. Oh boy. Stopping, you put the guitar beside you and gave the trio your attention. “Why do I smell trouble?” You asked.

“It’s not me,” Tony said, sniffing under his arm. “I showered.” You rolled your eyes at the billionaire.

“Does the name Andrei Lebedev?” You kept your face neutral, but your stomach dropped. That name would forever be in your nightmares.

“Yes, he was part of Dreykov’s second ring. He disappeared when the Red Room fell. He’s been on Melina’s list, but we haven’t been able to locate and deal with him,” you explained.

“Deal with him?” Steve questioned. “So would kill him if you found him?” You huffed in frustration.

“Don’t act all high and mighty, Rogers. These men have power even with the Red Room gone; they are better off dead.” With a vacant spot, there was a fight to be at the top. You and some of the other freed Widows were working on eliminating them before they could gain momentum. You looked at Maria. “What’s going on?” She handed you a file.

“Lebedev was found in New Asgard,” you opened it and saw a mug shot. The man was 6 feet, 5 inches tall. He had striking blue eyes. Unlike the last time you saw him, his dark brown was longer instead of neatly combed. However, a faint beard outlining his jaw gave you the idea that he was going somewhere safe to shave. “He was looking for asylum, but Val thought he was acting odd and brought him in for questioning.”

“Once they learned who he was, Fury had him transferred to us for questioning,” Tony added. You handed back the file.

“What does this have to do with me?” You had a feeling you knew where this was going.

“He won’t talk to anyone, not me, Maria, or Natasha,” Steve said. “He’s asking for you.” Fuck. Of course, he fucking was. God dammit. Why was Wanda away on a mission?

“What do we want from him?” You asked. Killing him would be the easiest solution.

“Fury wants whatever information we can get from him before sending him to the RAFT,” Maria explained. “Will you talk to him?” You sighed, stood up, and grabbed the guitar.

“Let’s get this over with.”

*

Sometimes you used pain to punish yourself. Your time at the tower was perfect. Self-inflected pain was the best tool you used to remind yourself of the past. Of the blood you shed and the countless lives ended by your hand.

On the other hand, pain helped ground you. A pinch of the skin on your thigh, biting down on your lip, or fingernails digging into your palm. Anything to help you stay present, preventing your mind from slipping away.

You stared at the door that separated you from him, nails digging into your palm. Your sisters and Carol will be watching. There was no fighting them on that. Sighing, you opened the door. “My malen’kiy pauk (little spider),” it had been a long time since you’ve heard someone call you that name. You closed the door. Immediately, pulling the chair away from the table to sit down. “I’ve missed you so much,” he continued. “But our last meeting was a little different,” he moved his handcuffed hands onto the table. The clash of metal echoed in the quiet room. “If I remember correctly, you were the one handcuffed. No matter to me,” he leaned forward. “I do love a change in a power dynamic.”

You crossed your arms against your chest, placed your right leg over your left, and leaned back into the chair. You remembered that day. Andrei Lebedev was part of Dreykov’s second circle or the vtoroy. These men were trusted as handlers and could leave the Red Room on missions or requests from Dreykov or his inner circle. But they were still seen as less than. They aimed to become part of the pervyy, the men closest to Dreykov. Although Dreykov was the face of the Red Room, it was impossible to run it without help. These men had the same amount of power as him; their word was God because you knew Dreykov knew about the order. A majority of the members of the party were killed in the Red Room explosion. The men you were after were part of the vtoroy. If the Red Room remained, Andrei would be part of the pervyy. He was a cable solider, a little hot-headed, but Dreykov would have crushed that spirit into submission. As a mission success, the pervyy granted Andrei’s request: a night with you. It wasn’t the only time you laid underneath this main.

“Being an Avenger looks good on you, kotenok (kitten). It fills you out nicely,” he groaned, licking his lips. “I bet you taste just as sweet. Do you want to be a good girl again? Just for me.” Still, you remained unfazed, face neutral. Men like this loved to talk, to inflate their ego with their sexual conquests. With time, he would reveal everything.

“I think about our time together a lot,” he smiled. “Your moans were music to my ears. They helped me through many lonely nights.” Lonely nights? The phrase stuck out to you for some reason. How many nights was he truly alone? He was freshly shaved and showered; you figured Val wouldn’t give him time alone to do all these things before locking him up. The man disappeared without a trace once the Red Room fell. Not even Melina, with her contacts, could find him. Andrei was bright but needed to be more smart to avoid capture. Who was helping him?

“Come on, baby,” he whined, mimicking a child throwing a tantrum. “Let me hear that voice again. You were very talkative when we last saw each other. I miss it,” his fingers tapped against the table. “Tell me, pretty, can anyone make you cum like I can?”

No one could see how your nails dug into your bicep, nails so sharp you knew it would pierce your skin. Pain. It grounded you, saved you from slipping into memories of that night, and kept your face stoic when all you wanted to do was scream.

*

As Carol recognized the true strength of her powers, she practiced keeping her emotions in check. Anger was powerful. Her rage could bring down skyscrapers, collapse entire planets, and turn the milky way into chaos if she wasn’t careful. Through her space travels, she witnessed horrible injustices that boiled her blood, ground her teeth, and left her fuming. Still, she kept her anger in check. However, she was struggling. The way this pig spoke to you was disgusting and vile, and you were just taking it. The only time Carol saw you move was when you first entered the room. She wasn’t sure if you were still breathing.

Unlike you, Natasha couldn’t stop pacing. She would get to one side of the viewing room, turn around, and repeat the process. Not even Maria could get her to stop; Carol believed it had to do with Natasha still being upset with her girlfriend. The youngest of the trio was quiet, playing with the ring all three of you shared. A quiet Yelena was never good, in Carol’s opinion. She saw the blonde tense up every time the man said something about her sister. Andrei laughed. “Why don’t you undo these cuffs? We can put on a show one more time before the cart me away. If I remember correctly, zaychonok (bunny), you loved having an audience,” he groaned, eyes rolling in the back of his head. “My little slut. It got you so wet.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Carol mumbled. All she saw was red. Unlike before, no one was there to protect you; no one was there to tell him to stop. But she was here now. You were hers to protect. She felt her powers itching at the palm of her hands, begging to let loose. It was getting harder to control it, this anger growing inside her. She knew he was still taunting you; maybe she heard Natasha or Maria’s voice, but it was becoming white noise. All of it was pointless besides one singular thought. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” To her surprise, no one stopped her when she left the room.

*

The door busting open startled you. The hinges barely had enough strength to keep it upright as your girlfriend entered the interrogation room, eyes glowing. Andrei was pulled to his feet and pinned to the wall by her forearm. You saw her entire body shaky. “Oh, is this the pet’s new master,” he teased. There was a shake in his voice as Carol was cutting off air into his lungs. “Tell me, do you pass her around like her old master, or do you keep her to yourself?”

“If you say one more word,” she hissed. “I will crush your windpipe.” You stood up, barely making a sound, but Andrei saw you.

“Oh, this is your lover, isn’t it?” He laughed, gasping slightly. “I’m jealous,” he taunted. “She is a gem—a queen among women. Tell me,” he whispered. “Can you make her scream like I can?”

“I won’t hesitate to paint this wall red with your blood,” you wanted her to do it so this nightmare could end. But it wasn’t the mission. “You can’t hurt her,” Carol continued, putting more pressure on his neck. The man gasped. “She is mine to protect, and I will kill all of you if I have to to keep her safe.” The man smiled, and for the first time entering this room, a chill went down your spine.

“Oh, you think with her living with Earth’s mightiest heroes, she’ll be safe; you are wrong.” Got him. It only took Carol intervening, but he was ready to talk. Gently, you placed a hand on Carol’s shoulder. Her eyes flickered to you.

“It’s okay,” you forced a smile. “Let him go.” You saw the internal debate happen in her eyes. Soon, she released him and threw him back into the chair.

“Power dynamic,” he said, rubbing his throat. A bruise was already forming. “I guess I was wrong about you two.” You sighed and sat down, this time closer to the table. Carol closed the door but stayed in the room, standing in the corner. Your arms were still crossed, and your nails again found the indent in your arm. “You got yourself an impressive guard dog over there. She needs a lesson in obedience.”

“I don’t own her, and she doesn’t own me,” you said. “Who helped you avoid detection after all this time?” He gasped.

“I’m offended you don’t think I could do it alone.”

“You aren’t smart enough, Lebedev,” you deadpanned. “So give me names, or my guard dog will attack.” His eyes glanced at Carol in the corner, and you saw him gulp in fear. Instead of talking, he leaned forward, faces inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your skin. A sharp pinch of your skin kept you present.

“Answer me this, kotenok (kitten). Do you feel safe here?”

“Is that a threat?” You countered.

“Merely a question,” he said. “Do you feel safe here with your sisters close by, Captain America as an ally, and Tony Stark’s super fancy AI keeping watch?” He slammed his hands down, but the sound didn’t scare you. Your nails dug deeper. “Do you feel safe?” He asked again. “Because Oriel Sergeev wasn’t the only person upset when the Red Room fell from the sky.” Oriel Sergeev? He was the man who created that ‘fun’ room.

“Who is helping you?” You asked again. He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in the chair.

“I don’t kiss and tell; you should know that. The Red Room provided stability, a balance, and you and those cunts you call sisters broke it,” your jaw clenched. He huffed out a laugh at your reaction. “It’s only a matter of time before bad girls like you get punished.”

*

You watched Maria and a few other agents lead Andrei to transport. A body collided with you that almost sent you falling to the ground, but Carol’s arm kept you upright. It was Yelena. Her jasmine scent perfume invaded your senses, grounding you further. “Ugh,” you groaned. “I hated that. I hated the way he talked to you.” You chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

“You aren’t the only one,” Natasha said, and you looked past Yelena as the redhead joined the small group. “Carol beat me to it. I was about to go in there and kick his ass.” You heard Carol laugh behind you, kissing the side of your head. “Are you okay?”

“I’m,” you stopped before you lied to them. “No, but I will be,” you sighed, ending the hug with Yelena. “I think I need a shower, then I’ll start feeling better.”

“Do you want me to join you?” Carol asked. You shook your head.

“I just need a moment by myself,” you smiled. “I’ll be okay, I promise.” As you turned to walk back to your room, Yelena grabbed your hand. Spinning you back around and flipping your arm to show everyone the cut on your arm.

“Your bleeding,” she said, and you pulled your arm back.

“It’s nothing, and it will heal by the time I get in the shower,” you saw the unasked questions from all three of them. “I needed to ground myself when I was in there with him. That’s all. I promise I’m okay, and I’ll come to you guys if I need anything.”

*

A towel was tightly secured around your body as you stepped out of the bathroom. You hated the way his words crawled underneath your skin. No matter how frequently you scrubbed your skin raw, you felt his hands on you. There was a part of you that wanted to track down his escort van and kill him, to watch his blood stain the pavement. Or maybe have Melina take care of it. But you knew if one of the Widows took the job, it would get traced back to you. Still wet from the shower, you sat on your bed and picked up your phone. The number you dialed wasn’t saved in your phone. It was a number you had memorized as Widows kept giving it to you. She answered on the second ring. “My favorite Black Widow,” she said. “What do I owe the pleasure? Have you considered my offer?” You sighed.

“No, Valentina, I’m still not joining your team. I need a favor.” You were speaking as you could hear cars driving by.

“I’m not a charity, darling. Favors will cost you/” You nodded.

“I know, and I’m willing to pay for it,” you stood up and walked into your closet. “I need to put on a hit. His name is Andrei Lebedev. He is currently in SHIELD custody and on his way to the RAFT. I need it done without using any of the Widows you have employed, and not a single agent hurt.” Valentina laughed.

“You are making a lot of demands for someone not in charge,” you dropped the towel and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.

“I always repay my debts, you know this?” This wasn’t the first time you’ve asked a favor from her. Her contacts ran deeper than Melina’s, and in this world, information was valuable. But you knew she would do it and come back to you when she needed something. The Widows that worked for her always told you what they did. You had enough dirt to bury the director, but it would hurt your fellow Widows.

“This will cost you, but I’ll get it done.”

“Thank you.”

“Aw, don’t go getting soft on me,” you rolled your eyes. “My offer is always on the table for you. That will never expire,” you huffed.

“Bye, Valentina.” You hung up the phone before she could respond. You refused to join her every time she asked, even when she proclaimed how much money you could make with your skill set. You feared it would be impossible to say no to her one day.

Two days passed when Maria announced that Andrei Lebedev was killed; no agents were hurt in the ambush. The agent’s eyes never left yours when she told everyone the news. Maybe it was bad you didn’t care if she believed you or not when you claimed you had no part in his death—effortlessly passing blame to whoever helped him. His death was one you never lost sleep over. Like you told Steve, these men were better off dead.

#family is more than blood au #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers x y/n #black widow sisters #yelena belova x natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

[snippychicke]

We all know I cannot help but rewrite shit. Or rather post drafts and then come around to polish it up.

Anyways, have some expounded scenes from my earlier post of Husk/Reader/Angel Dust.

Except this is mainly just Overlord!Husk/Reader. Maybe I'll do more later.

Three's a Charm

Genre: Fluff, hints of past violence and sexual assult. LOTS of alcohol mention/use plus gambling. Obviously.

Pairing: Reader/Husk

Life was hell, or so you had claimed while alive. Now you were wondering how much of that was true considering you had died and gone to hell.

You realized the hows and whys didn't matter. The fact you did what you could to offset the evil around you meant nothing to whatever forces judged you. All those pure actions of helping the less fortunate was for naught.

Granted, your pure actions were revenge killings pro-bono for those that had been abused and assaulted, whom the legal system had failed. Apparently no matter how righteous your fury was, the fact was you ended several lives. Murder was murder.

And so here you were. Hell. No longer human but something else. Something Demonic.

And confronted with the men you had killed.

“You fucking bitch!” Your Ex hollered as you tried to out run him and his friends. He recognized you as easily as you recognized him despite his own new features.

God had to have a sick sense of humor to do this to you.

Cars honked and people--if that was the right noun for them-- yelled and cursed at you as you darted and weaved through streets and alleys, stumbling like a newborn with your new legs.

You saw a large building before you, towering towards the deep red sky, and don't even think before you aim for the golden revolving doors. All you care about is its a place to hide. A place to escape.

The lights and sounds of a bustling casino meet you. You stumbled your way through the slot machines and card tables, fear still gripping your heart. You didn't pay any attention to any of the signs on the doors as you darted into one of the back hallways. Dimly lit, walls painted white with familiar motifs of clubs, spades, and hearts on the various doors.

At the end was one painted with all four, which was also the one you ducked into when you heard talking behind you.

The room was filled with the scent of smoke, but you paid that little mind as you pressed your ear to the door, trying to see if you could hear any familiar voices.

Only to hear a very clear, unfamiliar, one growl from behind you. “And who exactly do you think you are?”

You froze, an innate sense ringing alarm bells in your head. You could feel the small hairs across your.body stand on end. You weren't in danger--you were dead.

Of course, you had already died once, but.you still had that sense of self preservation.

You slowly turned around, pressed against the door and searching desperately for the handle. You expect some fierce demon to own the deep guttural voice

And was stunned in more ways than one when you saw the humanoid-cat lounging in an office chair, feet kicked up on the desk, a black tophat sitting between his ears, and grand black wings stretched almost lazily from his back. Lazily smoking a cigar.

Golden eyes however, betrayed he wasn't as at eased as his posture conveyed.

“I-I, uh,” you stuttered, trying hard to think of both what to do and what to say and failing. Especially as he pulled the cigar from his mouth (which of course was full of sharp teeth) and kicked his feet off from the desk.

“You're fresh blood,” he commented before you could make a decision, his small black nose twitching slightly. “You've been down here… what, a day? Two?”

“Less,” you answered just before one of your persuers shouted your name, making you flinch. You had killed the bastard but yet here you were, cowering in fear. Granted, you never fought them--not really. A syringe full of air shoved into a major vein, poison slipped into a drink, brake lines cut, those were easier and less dangerous for you.

The demon's eyes glittered as a smile stretched across his face. “And it seems like you're in quite an ordeal.”

“I'm in fucking hell,” you couldn't help but snipe back at his casualness in the fave of your terror. “What do you think?”

Oddly, his grin grew as he stepped closer to you, a large bird-like tail sweeping behind him. “I think you could use some help, sweetcheeks. How about we play a game?”

Playing cards suddenly sprung from one of his paw-like hand to the other, making you narrow your eyes--both suspicious and annoyed. “What part of this situation makes you think I wanna play a game?”

The smile took on a far more menencing. “Lets look at your choices, shall we? You obviously don't wanna be out there, but staying in here is gonna come with a price. All I'm asking for is a quick round of baccarat with a simple wager. You win, and I'll take care of those assholes for you. I win, I get your soul.”

At first, you wanted to scoff. Your soul? Seriously?

But… you were in hell. And as fluffy ss he looked, this odd being was a demon. (As were you, which was a hard pill to swallow)

Your Ex seemed closer as he bellowed your name again, along with some familiar slurs that reminded you of life before.

Never again. That's what you had swore to yourself when you had grabbed the gun. Never would he lay another finger on you. And that had started your vigilante work.

“Okay,” you breathed, automatically holding your hand out. “You got yourself a deal. But I don't know how to play.”

His laugh would be pleasant in a less tense situation. “No worries, it's an easy game. We both get two cards, and whoever gets the highest number wins. The 2 through 9 cards in each suit are worth face value while the 10, Jack, Queen, and King are worth zero; aces are worth 1 point. The goal is to get the highest number, though you can't go over 9.”

It sounded easy enough you supposed. The demon made a show of shuffling the deck before offering them to you. “Pick any two.”

You grabbed two from near the top, and he took the very top two before the deck disappeared into a pocket.

“Tough hand,” he swore as he showed you his two cards. The King of Hearts and a 5 of clubs.

Your heart was a lump in your own throat as you showed him yours. A 3 of hearts…and an ace.

4. You had four points.

His pointed teeth were on displayed as he grinned. “I take that back. Looks like Lady Luck is on my side after all.”

Shackles formed around your wrists, heavy and unyielding, linked to heavy chains that the demon held. He took a breath as unnatural light and smoke swirled around both of you.

“Fresh souls are powerful,” he grinned as he clenched his fist around the chains, gold eyes glittering. “Never had one that was less than a month old before and damn, sweetheart. Yours packs a punch.”

You looked at the shackles at your wrists. “Now what?” You croaked, feeling your heart sink, assuming the worst. You just traded one asshole for another. At least with your ex you knew what to expect.

“Now I'm going to go get rid of those scumbags causing a ruckus in my casino. Then we'll get you settled into your new life.”

♡♤♢♧

Husk. Overlord Husk. As in one of the top demons of this realm.

Oddly you were more ashamed that you had sold yourself to someone you didn't even know their name.

Yet watching Husk take care of those chasing you had given you a brief sense of satisfaction. Despite his fluffy form, he proved that there was far more to him that met the eye.

A lot of people seemed to defer to Husk as well, reinforcing the idea of being an Overlord. The various patrons and workers on the Casino floor nodded politely in his way that reminded you oddly of a well known mafia boss.

He certainly strutted as if he was.

Your worries of your ‘new life’ slowly eased as you were shuffled off to some of Husk's own henchman-- Alfonso and Reid. They showed you to a small apartment--more of a hotel room equipped with a small kitchenette--and explained your job.

You sold your soul… and now you had a job, a place to live, and otherwise free to do as you pleased. At first you had been worried that things would go south quickly and yet…

And yet here you were, weeks later, and feeling rather comfortable with your new ‘life.’

Being a new ‘employee’ meant you had some of the more menial jobs. Cleaning the hotel rooms of the upper floors, which were often left in such a disarray it would take a whole day to clean just one floor. Then in the evenings you would wander the floor to assure no one was cheating, and also offer customer service by fetching drinks from the bar or exchanging cash for more tokens.

Because of course hell would be a capitalistic society.

Tonight you were wandering around the black jack and poker tables, trying to understand the games just by watching. You had heard of them, of course, but never played them. Everytime your ex and his friends would play, they never bothered to teach you.

And you had learned quickly never to ask.

“What're you so interested in, sweetcheeks?” Husk's voice drawled, spooking you. Other than your initial deal, the Overlord didn't seem too interested in you. You could feel your shackles sometimes, but they had otherwise disappeared to the point you could almost pretend they weren't there.

“I-uh, sorry!” Yyou squeaked, clutching the drink tray to your chest as you faced him. “I'm sorry, I'll get back to work!”

His face darkened as he grabbed your arm, preventing your escape. “Hey, that wasn't what I asked. I've seen you watching the tables pretty intensely, I wanna know why.”

You blushed and avoided his gaze. “I'm trying to learn, sir.”

“Learn?” The anger was gone, replaced with confusion. “Wait, you're telling me you've never played blackjack before?”

“Yes sir,” you answered quietly. “Or any of the others, to be honest. My curiosity just got too much so I thought maybe if I watched a few games, I'd learn.”

You glanced at him, his golden eyes gazing over the table in thought for a moment before he shook.his head. “Fuck it, I'm not having one of mine not know how to play cards.”

Before you could question him, he dragged you over to a table that had an open chair. All the patrons stiffened slightly as he took a seat-- and then pulled you into his lap. You squeaked once more, feeling your face grow hot as the fur of his.chest brushed against the bare back of your dress.

“Deal me in, Chapo,” Husk stated. “ I'm going to show sweetcheeks here how we play blackjack in hell.”

“I-uh, is-is this really necessary?” You asked as Chapo followed Husk's orders.

“You work for me,” Husk answered, chin resting on your shoulder as he looked at the cards the dealer placed. “You need to know how to play the games. It's as simple as that.”

It was not as simple as that. You were sitting in an Overlord's lap in sight of the entire casino. You could feel the eyes on you. Virtually hear the plotting.

Demons were backstabbers after all. Husk may be untouchable, but you weren't. You knew exactly where you fell in the totem pole.

Absolute rock bottom.

“Focus, don't pay attention to those assholes,” Husk whispered in your ear. “If they have a problem, they'll have to deal with me. You belong to me, after all. And no one touches what's mine.”

How was that calming? It should remind you of the shackles chaining you to him, yet you felt vaguely reassured.

Along with something else as one of his hands slipped from the table to rub your leg. Not overtly sexual, but yet another gesture trying to assure you.

Yet a new heat tried to spark in your groin, but you swiftly doused it. This was your.boss--literally your owner. A walking cat demon with wings. The literally last person you should be attracted to.

Even if his voice was like dark chocolate--deep, rich, smooth.

And him whispering in your ear as the game progressed? It was a sweet kind of torture to struggle not to melt but instead focus on what he was trying to teach. Pair that with the little touches he used to get your attention and your head was an absolute mess.

“Listen to your gut,” he grumbled as he lightly touched your stomach. “Now we're sitting pretty at 19, but there's still a few combos that could beat us. Look at your cards and the others. What are the chances Chapo has 20 or 21? And what are our chances if we tap we'll get a two or an Ace?”

There were already a few aces and 2s in play, but your focus was on the black cards sitting face down. “Stand?” You hazard, and swore you could feel him grin.

“See, you're a natural at this. We'll have you Dealing in no time.”

A few more rounds and there was a decent stack of tokens when Husk finally called it quits. Your legs were shaky as you finally stood, and you took time brushing your dress smooth in hopes it would help you regain your balance.

Then you met Husk's golden gaze, the smile on his face almost soft, and you swore the world spun even more. “You did good, sweetcheeks. Here,” he offered you some of his winnings, even though you had mostly just sat and watched. “Payment for being my lucky charm tonight.”

♡♤♢♧

If you thought that had been a one off time, you had been very wrong. Husk apparently took offense that you didn't know any card games. At least once or twice a week you found yourself being tutored by the Overlord while acting as his ‘lucky charm.’

But you would see him throughout the week, virtually everyday in fact.

Which made today very odd because you hadn't seen hide or hair (or was that fur or feather?) of the Overlord. Granted, you had been assigned to cleaning the floor of the casino after closing--those few precious hours where you bustled to vacuum the floors, wipe fingerprints and whatever else from the nearly-endless sparkling surfaces. Fill the coins of the slot machines, restock the tokens of the tables.

Empty the myriad of ashtrays and trashbags full of half-filled drinks.

Your last stop was the bars dotting the casino to empty their trash as well. Except one was currently being occupied.

The last person you expected to see was Husk, a large bottle of some kind of liquor next to him as he leaned against the well polished wood.

“Boss?” You hazard as you approached, and saw his ears flick before he turned. There was a dark flush apparent even through the fur of his face, warning you he was quite intoxicated.

“Look at that, my luck is returning,” he grinned, the slur of his words proving your initial thought. “My lady luck in the flesh.”

You sighed softly as you took a seat next to him. “Bad day?”

His smile disappeared as he grunted before knocking back a shot. “You could say that. Lost more than I won.”

Without thinking, your reached across to run your fingers down the fur on the back of his head towards his neck--only to freeze as he tensed.

“Shit, I'm sorry!” You apologized as you yanked your hand back. Just because he had taken you under his wing at times did not mean you were friends. He was a demon overlord and you were one of the many souls he owned.

He gave you a side eye. “Did I say not to do that?”

You frantically searched your memories, sure that your ass was toast. “I-I can't quite recall, to be honest? But I'm sure it's still inappropriate.”

He snorted before turning in his seat, his knees brushing against yours. “Still can't figure out how a gal like you ended up down here. Fuck inappropriate, sweetcheeks--did I tell you to stop?”

“N-no?” You squeeked, earning a dark grin. Your heart raced from his expression, and even more as he wrapped his claws around your wrist and pulled it to his cheek.

Husk all but melted as you buried your fingers in the fur of his cheek, his eyes closing as he leaned into your touch. It gave you courage to rub your thumb through the silky fur which was met with a literal nuzzle. Your lips twitched into a smile as you took the risk and raised your other hand to rub his ear. A deep groan escaped Husk as he sunk even deeper against you, making you giggle

Maybe this was why you were in hell. Not because of the murders, but because some deep part of you was apparently attracted to furry beings. Sure, you had looked at some furry porn, but it was never a deep seated interest.

But Husk? You were quickly growing fond of him and caught yourself wondering what a physical relationship with him would be like.

“You tell anyone, and you'll be in deep shit,” he tried to threaten, but it was weakened by the fact a quiet purr coming from somewhere deep in his chest. You weren't about to comment on it, however. Not just because you feared for your life, but that it would stop.

This demon that literally owned your soul was becoming far too precious. “I promise, your secret is safe with me, sir.”

He huffed, allowing himself another moment before pulling away. He looked a bit bleary as his golden eyes opened once more, and had to blink a few times to focus. “Anyone else and I wouldn't even risk it. But damn if you ain't something special, sweetcheeks.”

“I'm happy,” you confessed as he poured you a glass. A careful sip confirmed it was a hard liquor--whiskey maybe? It was smooth and warm as it went down, making you feel even hotter. “That you trust me. Hell, I'm happy that I stumbled into your office that first day.”

“You're happy you ended up selling your soul?” Husk asked with a hint of amusement as one of his large eyebrows arched.

“Well, pretty sure out of any demon you're probably one of the better ones.” You had heard horror stories, seen others treat the souls they owned like true possessions.

“Well there goes my rep,” he grumbled. “Overlord Husk, the nice one.”

“I'm pretty sure no one else knows,” you tried to reassure. “Everyone is still plenty scared of you.”

He hummed as he took another sip. “Ya know, I'm happy you broke into my office that day too. But I gotta ask what did you do to end up there?”

“Er,” you itched at the base of your horn, now finally getting used to the extra weight on your head. You never spoke about your side project back when you were alive. Those who found you had heard solely through the grapevine and sought you out. “Do you recall those demons chasing me?”

One of his large eyebrows raised, intrigued. “Yeah?”

“I…kinda may have killed them?” You offered, voice muffled by your own glass.

There was a beat before Husk laughed--a deep rich sound that made your heart thump. Something that happened more frequently through the last few weeks, much to your despair.

“You?” He swore after a moment. “My little lucky charm killed a man?”

“Well, several of them, actually…” you admitted, hoping your new skin tone didn't betray your blush. Because you were embarrassed, and not the impressed look on his face. “But in my defense, they deserved it.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Now I know why you look like a jackalope. Innocent as a bunny but with horns that can maul a man.”

You touched the horns on your head before chuckling yourself, though a bit self consciously. “Never thought of it that way.” You had figured it was just happenstance you looked the way you did, but maybe there was meaning behind it.

And maybe… that meant that Husk hadn’t drawn the short end of the straw with his own appearance.

♡♤♢♧

It became a new routine. Every time Husk had a bad day or even if he hadn't seen you, you inevitably would end up sharing drinks. Usually one of the bars that dotted the casino, or the small restaurant space if you were shuffled over there to waitress.

Always public spaces, yet also frequently out of the way to not draw attention. You couldn’t help but feel touched that he was taking care not to corner you (even if he didn’t realize what he was doing.) Yet sometimes, you couldn’t help but want a little more privacy. To see him able to drop his guard completely, unafraid of an interruption.

“Overlord Husk requests your presence,” Alfonso murmured into your ear as he stepped close to your side while you were working the floor, making you pause. You looked at the security demon, his eyes covered by shades--if he had eyes behind the black lenses. There was no expression on the.demon's face, but he tilted his head towards the elevators. “Top floor.”

Top floor? Husk’s personal suite? No one had access or privilege except his personal guests. You hadn't been given access to clean the place, let alone visit.

Alfonso coughed faintly as you hesitated, mind alight with different thoughts and emotions.

Right. If Husk wanted you, waiting wasn't a good idea. Especially, if somehow, he was in a particularly bad mood. You handed your pouch of money and tokens to the security demon before walking briskly to the elevators.

You half expected the button with the heart symbol not to work for you when you pressed it. But it lit up easily as the gilded doors closed. The ride was short despite the dozens of floors the elevator had to climb, leaving you little time to worry before the doors opened once more.

Hell was not pretty, yet the view through the floor to ceiling walls was still breath-taking. The crimson sky with dark clouds, the city sprawled below. Very few other buildings towered as high as the casino, letting you feel as if you were almost above it all.

“It's not Vegas, but it's not too bad,” Husk commented, grabbing your attention away from the view. There was a bar (of course) just to the side, overlooking a sitting area right before the windows, and your boss was sitting on one of the bar stools, bottle in hand.

Not a glass--the whole damn whiskey bottle. And judging by the darkened color on his face, he had been at it for a while. Which explained why he asked for you, you supposed. He obviously wasn't thinking straight.

“Is that where you're from?” you asked as you went to join him.

There was a bittersweet expression as he met your gaze. “Yeah. Lived and breathed the Strip. Worked at a few joints, did a few shows. Was on my way to being a manager at the Fremont before I ended up down here. Never trust the goddamn mafia.”

He took a heavy swig of the whiskey bottle, making you wince. Definitely not in a good mood today. “Well, that sucks ass,” you offered sympathetically before gently taking the half-empty bottle from him as soon as it left his lips. You took a quick drink yourself to bolster your courage, though couldn't help but notice the warmth of the glass against your lips--heated by his own mouth.

Which was not where your thoughts needed to be right now.

“Story of my life,” he grumbled. “Every high point was followed by a landslide that would bring me back to rock bottom to the point I was always worried about everything being taken from me. I took to drinking just to relax and enjoy it.”

“Something that continued down here,” you hazard. Hell, if Las Vegas was stressful and full of backstabbing, hell was even worse. Not only were other sinner-demons vying to become an Overlord, but the Overlords all had knives poised to strike each other when it would benefit them.

Husk grunted before furrowing his brows at his empty hand, apparently confused as to where his drink went. Which only proved he likely had too much, at least in your opinion. He’d probably argue… if he had been sober enough to.

You tapped the knee of his black slacks, catching his attention the same way he often would yours. “You wanna tell me about the good times? I've never been to Vegas, and definitely won't get the chance now.”

The confusion dissipated as he shook his head. “Fuck, you missed the best thing about being alive.”

The somberness left as Husk delved into telling you about his life. The lights and glamor of Las Vegas during the 60s, which was a surprise to you but not as nearly as the fact that Husk liked magic tricks and used to play the saxophone. Professionally.

Not much later, you ended up curled up on one of the plush couches, enjoying the magic Husk was willing to show. Even still quite inebriated, the demon's magic was impressive--both literal magic and the illusionary kind. Card tricks, pulling things out of his hat, the whole routine.

You… you couldn't remember the last time you felt so happy, laughing and applauding. Your heartbeat caught several times by the proud delighted expression on his face, which did nothing in your eternal mission to control your growing feelings for him.

After a while, he flopped down on the couch beside you, reaching behind your floppy ear, only to pull back a playing card. “Was this your card, sweetheart?”

A king of hearts, making you grin and clap. “Yes! It was.”

A quick gesture and the card has somehow turned into a deep red rose. “Ya know, I asked Alfonso to bring you here for a reason.” He confessed before he offered the rose to you. “No matter how down I get, being around you makes me feel better. You really are my lucky charm.”

Oh. Oh. Your stomach clenched as your heart thundered in your chest as you accepted the rose. There was a faint smoky smell to it that regular roses didn't have, but if anything that just added to the mystique of it. “Husk…”

He rubbed the back of his head, looking rather awkward which was highly out of character for him. “I know we have a power imbalance, and I ain't going to be one of those fuckers that demand you to do whatever I want. So if you don't feel the same, that's fine. I ain't going to force you into anything. I won’t punish you either--that wasn’t part of our deal.”

Fuck it. Any reservations you had regarding your feelings for him suddenly gave in, allowing you to admit how deeply you had fallen for the overlord. Maybe he owned your soul, maybe you were both demons stuck in hell… but you loved him.

And he trusted you. Out of everyone he trusted you. You could see that and more in his golden eyes as he met your gaze. “I was kinda convinced it was all in my head,” you confessed softly. “How could I believe I'd be special enough to catch the attention of someone like you?” You bravely brushed the messy fur of his cheek before rubbing his ear--something you knew he liked but only in private. Only when it was the two of you and no one else.

His lips quirked into a slight smile. “I've told you a dozen times you're something special.”

He had. And as his lips met yours far more tenderly and gently than you had felt in a long time, as if he couldn't believe his luck, you started to believe it.

#husk/reader #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel

[tsstories]

The Bar Night

!!TRIGGER WARNING!! This includes themes of: drinking/alchocol, implied sexual assult, physical assult, implied attempted rape, drugging someone’s drink, non-consent. All clothes stay on, but this short blip of writing has some dark concepts in it. Please scroll past if you think this will upset you!

Sofie POV

Ugh, I can’t believe he would do that! Today of all days?!

Me too subconscious, me too.

I was blowing off steam by walking away, like I normally did. I can’t help it--if I stayed there, something would get broken; either the wall, or his body.

Not like that would have been a bad thing.

True.

Now, let’s go enjoy my third favorite pastime: drinking

The other two will go unnamed for now.

I’m downing my third… fourth… fifth… sixth… sixth… tenth…

“You know, people usually throw up after three scotches. You have a talent for that.”

Who’s this guy?

I turn to the side and get a look at the stranger.

He’s cuuuuute

Is that the alcohol or my subconscious talking?

...Yes?

Fair enough. I smirk.

“Aw, sad that a girl can beat you at drinking?”

He chuckles, “Oh, no. I respect that actually. You’re a strong woman if you can down twenty shots of scotch and still form coherent sentences.”

How many have we had?!

I don’t know—he says twenty. Is that too much?

YES!

Oh, woops.

“Oh? And how many have you had?”

He smiles but it’s different. I can’t place the way his expression is...it’s familiar…

“Oh, I don’t drink. I prefer to be in control of myself.”

Wait, how long has his hand been on my thigh? When did he get so close? What is happeni—

My mind completely blanks as he starts to kiss me. I'm so disoriented, are we moving? He stops kissing me, but I can’t get out of his grip as he turns and closes the door.

Oh my god we’re drunk in a back room with a sober one-night-stand predator.

Oh god. What am I in for now?

He turns back and my mind is getting the hang of drunkenness because I can finally place the look he has had for a while now: Predatory. He’s looking at my body, not me.

Shit.

“Well, that was a good kiss, but I should be getting ho—“

“Oh, you’re leaving so soon? We were just getting to the fun part”~

Oh. Shit. This is NOT happening.

Somehow I successfully clock him with my free hand. The second he goes to yell at me, I’m (drunkenly) kicking him right in his crotch.

Try to bully a girl for that now.

He second he lets go I stumble to the door, and into the bar. I’m sure I look crazy, but it’s a bar and no one questions it. Except for one person. He looks at me, where I was coming from, and starts over to me.

“Where are you going, doll?”

Fuck.

I step away, but he grabs my wrist in an iron grip.

“Oh no, we weren’t done yet.”

Shitshitshitshitshi—

“JESSICA! Oh my gosh, I’ve been looking EVERYWHERE for you!”

We both turn to see the guy I saw walking up to us and hug me. Before I know it he’s let go again, but he whispered to me a little hint incase I was too drunk/stupid:

“Play along, I’ll get you out of this.”

He leans back, but makes sure to keep his hands on my shoulders. I play innocent.

“I know—that’s how engagement works: you always find me”

I flirt at him, and both men are taken aback.

Boom. Thank you theatre class, now I can even act while drunk.

My ‘savior’ seems to regain his senses.

“Well, I’ve found you, and we need to get to your sister’s house for dinner.”

The idiot holding my wrist still hasn’t let go, an I turn to him and say, “Could you let go? I kind of need to leave.”

He immediately releases me and I all but jump onto my rescuer and we haul ass outta there as smoothly as possible.

Once we’re a block away, I stop and turn to him.

“Okay—who are you, how did you know I needed help and are you going to try the same thing as him because I’ll defend myself again even if you did help me o—“

He clamps a hand over my mouth. his smile showing he finds my drunken rambling not intimidating but funny.

Oh my god, what is it with us and guys tonight?!

I have no idea, tell me when you figure it out.

He takes his hand away once he’s satisfied I’ve stopped talking and says almost clinically:

“He’s a jerk who loves to look for drunks to have fun with. Every other weekend, he’ll come in and sit in the back watching everyone drink until he finds someone who is drinking to forget something, and he’ll pop on over, maybe he’ll put something extra if he doesn’t think they’ll get through enough for him to be satisfied that they’ll be pliable, and then he’ll, well, you can guess.”

I squint at him suspiciously.

“You seem to know a lot about what his plans are.”

He looks off to the side and...is he blushing?

Oh my god you don’t think he’s—

I’m going to stop you there subconscious and not ask any assuming questions anymore.

“...He doesn’t just target girls...”

Oh...OH. ...shit.

“Oh...Did he...did you...?”

I let the question hang in the air for him to take. I feel like I’ve gone too far until he quietly replies:

“...almost.”

We’re gonna get that guy once we’re sober.

Agreed.

~To be Continued (maybe)~

#short story #fiction #triggering themes #first person narrative #sofie’s bar night #nsft #writing

[dadzawa-adopt-dabi]

Discord Prompt pain lvl 7

The sun is still coming up and Dabi's never been more thankful for an empty base.

Dabi started finally calming down as he laid his head against Jin's chest and listened to his heartbeat. Jin shouted and stepped through with him as Dabi hid his face in Jin's sweater.

He was sitting on the couch and one of the blankets Shigaraki was always in was thrown over him. It was heavy and he found himself tightly wrapping it around his shoulders as it pressed him into the cushions. It smelled like the entire LoV and Dabi found his breaths finally slowing as his head cleared.

"Here, Toga grabbed these from your room. She's pacing in there with a couple knives." Shigaraki crouched in front of him with a clean pair of clothes. Dabi took another breath to steady himself as he took them. A moment later Toga was sprinting towards him with a familiar beat up tiny backpack ramming into her.

"It's low. Everything in here is old." Toga bit out as she struggled to rip the zipper open and Dabi reached out and ruffled her hair, still laying flat on the couch. Her eyes teared up and she picked at the edge of the cushion. "Is. Do you feel too yuck for cuddles?" she asked quietly, in the most tactful way she could think of. Dabi lifted one corner of the weighted blanket in response and she dove underneath, up against him and grabbing his face to look him in the eyes.

"It's fine, Toga. I'm okay, see?" He looked her in the eyes and she laid down with a nod. Holding tight to one of his wrists, fingers hovering over his pulse as she started drifting back to sleep.

Dabi's breathing so slowed down and he slumped into the blanket that was pressing him down onto the couch. It was heavy and he could understand why Shigaraki always had one around him. Shigaraki brushed his scent gland against Dabi's hair and he tucked his head down into the blanket and Toga.

Sako came and sat on the arm of the sofa. Combing his fingers into his hair after he gave Dabi a chance to pull away from it and keeping his movements slow.

"Thank you Dabi, for calling us," Sako spoke calmly once the rest of the league headed to bed and left them alone. Dabi glanced up at him to see him without his mask for once. A small smile on his face battling the concern. "Jin said you said some pretty concerning things, Dabi. You also smell of that Keigo Takami."

Toga snuffled in her sleep and gripped tight to Dabi as his chin trembled and he shrugged again.

"I did want it?" Dabi whispered, glancing around in the dark to avoid eye contact.

Jin walked back in to try taking Toga from him, she protested at first and sank her fangs into Jin's arm in a sleepy state of alarm but Jin didn't even seem to notice as he held her.

"He said he was broken," he lightly growled and stopped when Toga whimpered. "I'm putting her to bed. Showers open if you need it, Dabi."

Dabi grabbed the clothes Shigaraki had brought out and headed for the bathroom, he could still feel the cum and slick oozing out of him and crusting in his boxers. He was exhausted, crying and the breakdown in its entirety had taken a lot out of him. He didn't know what was wrong with him.

Just that normal omega's didn't run from the best sex they'd ever had, the best... experiance Dabi had in general.

"What? Dabi did Keigo?" Sako cut himself off as Dabi shook his head and looked down at the floor. Shoulders up around his ears and bright red.

"Look, I'm sorry-" Dabi was cut off by Sako coming up to him and grabbing his chin, forcing eye contact for just a moment before he let go of him.

"Okay. Well, whatever happened you can tell me later. Just so we are clear on exactly what pieces of Takami I will be breaking." He gave Dabi a tiny smirk, accepting a cup of coffee as Kuroguri handed it to him with a whisper of waiting for him.

"Mr. You, you can go back to bed." Dabi whispered in an inaudible mumble. looking down the hall towards the shower. He just didn't want to ever talk about this again. It was embarrassing, both the fussing over him and the break down. He'd... there had been some really shitty times and this night didn't even clear the top 5. There wasn't a reason to be so upset but the shame wouldn't leave him alone.

Sako waited up anyways and was there when he came out in clean clothes. Stumbling back towards the couch and lifting the blanket up.

"Why the fuck is this so heavy?" he mumbled to himself as he closed his eyes. Leaning against the couch as Sako came and sat down on the other end.

"Okay. So you wanted to have sex with Takami, and you did. Did he not stop when you asked? Did he make you uncomfortable at all?" Sako asked and lifted one of his arms in invitation for Dabi to borrow against him.

Dabi shrugged uncomfortably and looked over at Sako, he bit the inside of his cheek to stop a whimper and debated if he would just end up anxious and uncomfortable if he took up the invitation. Sako waited patiently until Dabi gave in and let himself fall sideways to be held.

"No. He didn't. I have no idea why I'm just having a meltdown, maybe I really am just, broken Mr." he mumbled quietly. Sako patted his shoulder.

"You're not. Somethings going on Dabi, whatever it is we can work on it," Sako hummed. “You hesitated when I asked if he made you uncomfortable."

"He didn't." Dabi insisted and when Sako didn't press he continued, feeling like he had to explain why he hesitated. "We- Fuck I don't know okay? I don't know what made me decide I was down for getting fucked by an Alpha Hero tonight. But I did. Okay? I wanted it, wanted him. Then we were just making out in some alley and I needed air, so I pushed him back."

Sako took a deep breath in at that and held it. "Okay, that's good, if you wanted a roll in the hay with Hawks you're allowed to have that. Why did you need air? Did he let you push him away?"

Dabi snorted at Sako's polite way of referencing him being horny. It was laugh or cry, and he was out of tears and too tired to actually laugh.

"He did. Easily, barely had to push and he was turning me on so badly. it's not like I wasn't still enjoying it? We just, he offered his apartment. I've never-" Dabi cut himself off with a noise that was half a sob and half a laugh. He didn't know anymore.

"Oh Dabi. You're not broken, I promise. Tell me more, this old man wants all that coffee you kids keep dropping." Sako nudged Dabi and he let out a little laugh.

"Okay, okay. So we go back to his place to fuck, I’m uh... not feeling well. Nerves or some shit. My stomach keeps flipping and I just, I want him but I’m also not really sure how this is gonna go now. He," Dabi laughed and turned himself into Sako. "Okay. He decided he wanted to wine and dine me after I got my feet under me, alright? Then he took me back to his actual legit fucking bedroom there was a couch right there!, and fucked me so well I actually came twice, and purred afterwards as I actually fell asleep in his arms?" Dabi was laughing again. So absurd it was funny. What the fuck had tonight even been? He couldn't even dream this shit up, too far to go for any one night stand.

"It sounds like you had a wonderful night and a gentleman showed you a good time, Dabi. I'm happy for you, so what changed then? What happened?" He lightly pressed and combed Dabi's hair.

"I woke up." Dabi muttered quietly staring ahead at nothing. "I just, I woke up and I... I don't know, Mr. I just had to leave and then I felt... I felt gross? And sick. I've, it doesn't make sense. I was fine, and then I woke up and I wasn't and I couldn't get home. Couldn't get myself together enough to call Kuroguri and then just, had a meltdown."

Sako shook his head, continuing to pet Dabi's head as he thought in silence.

"I get fucked like that" Dabi stuck one hand out of the blanket to gesture loosely with an embarrassed bright red face. "And then, I freak out? Have a meltdown over what exactly?"

"Well, I'll tell you one thing Dabi, it does not mean that you are a broken omega." He stood up and groaned as his bones creaked. Dabi closed his eyes on the couch. Ready to go to bed already and wake up from this, this whatever it was. A dream or a nightmare, he didn't know. Didn't know how to figure it out.

part 1 [x]

#thedarkonewrites #dabi #omegadabi #omegaverse #alphakeigo #mpreg #omegaversepreg #kidfic #dabihawks #hotwings #past assult hinted at #lemon scented #lemon aftertaste #bnha #mha #fanfic #keigo tamaki

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Frigid.

Pairing: Yandere!Rosaria/Reader (Genshin Impact).

Word Count: 2.5k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Modern AU, Non-Con, Semi-Public Sex, Drug Use, Toxic Relationships, Victim-Blaming, Implied Past Assult, Dissociation.

Touching Rosaria was like touching ice.

Or, like having ice touch you, at least. She didn’t like it when you touched her – if she did, she wouldn’t have her hand clamped around your wrist, right now, there wouldn’t be a chill washing over your skin, inching towards your chest, making your heart beat a little faster every time the threat of frostbite began to seem more like a strong possibility than a distant fantasy. It was jarring, really, compared to the heat of the bodies around you, dancing and moving and sweltering, despite how crowded the club felt, despite how much you wished they would stop. You’d been the one who wanted to come, you were the one who usually liked this kind of thing, but suddenly, the music was too loud, everyone was too close, you could still feel your last drink burning at the back of your throat. It was all too much. It was all too hot.

Except Rosaria, of course. Never Rosaria.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt warm, around her.

She was sticking close to the walls, thankfully. You were glad you’d chosen a smaller club, easier for Rosaria to navigate as she dragged you across the cramped space. It was too dark to see where she was going, darker than it usually was, but you didn’t mind letting her pull you along. You were used to it, the graceless way she pushed through couples and groups and inebriated patrons, the quiet apologies you let out as you followed her, how easy your own feet were to trip over as the bright, flashing lights and the sour flavor coating your tongue made it more and more difficult to think. It was almost a relief when she found what she was looking for – the side exit, the one you liked to use whenever you got too overwhelmed. It was sweet that she’d thought to use it tonight, too, even if you couldn’t remember telling her about your little escape route.

The alleyway it opened into was narrow, just as dark and just as stifling as the club, but the music wasn’t as loud, the air wasn’t as choking, and more importantly, you were able to collapse into Rosaria, burying your head in your chest as she caught you by the shoulders, begrudgingly accepting your clumsy affection. She didn’t like being touched, but you really liked touching her. It made sense that she’d make an exception for you, in the moment, at least. She always made an exception for you.

“Rosey,” You started, slurring the nickname into something near-incomprehensible. There was a tap to your shoulder, a row of blunt nails skirting across bare skin. In the back of your mind, you wondered if she was mad at you. “I can’t… It’s too warm, Rosey. My head hurts.”

“Obviously.” Her tone was lighter than it usually was, more playful. Not quite patient, not yet, but more sympathetic than she usually bothered to be. Like she was talking to a child, rather than a friend. Like the two of you hadn’t already done this a hundred times. “You overdid it, princess. You’re drunk.”

You shook your head, absent-mindedly. You didn’t feel drunk. You felt… dizzy. Out of it. Disoriented in such a way that meant trying to find out why you were struggling to keep your balance only made you more likely to fall. “You had more than I did,” You mumbled, because it was true. You knew how Rosaria could be. You’d wanted to be good, tonight, even if she claimed to be content nursing her third glass of wine. “’s not fair. I’m don’t even feel that—”

“You’re always so careless, too,” She said, cutting you off. Speaking over you, like you’d never said anything at all. Her grip tightened, and you backed away, pressing yourself against the nearest wall. Rosaria didn’t let go. “Drinking so much, staying out so late… It’s a miracle you haven’t learned your lesson, yet. I’m a little surprised no one’s ever taken advantage of you.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. The wall was unpainted, uneven, bare cement and little else. It hurt to touch, to lean against, especially with Rosaria resting her weight on you. It hurt to move, when you finally thought to fidget. “You're being mean,” You whispered, and her hand fell to your hip. Your dress was too thin, too tight. It felt like you were bleeding out in a snowbank. “Would someone really do that?”

“I would.” She was too close. She was too cold. You didn’t find the constant chill comforting, anymore. “In a heartbeat. Especially after you start acting like such a fucking tease.”

You wanted to go home. There was something pounding in the back of your skull, now, throbbing, blocking out whatever Rosaria might’ve said, making it impossible to process anything but the black dots fraying at the edges of your vision and Rosaria’s lips, chapped and painted red and on your neck, the corner of your jaw, only lingering for a moment before her teeth dug into your jugular and you screamed, the shrill sound immediately cut short by a palm against your mouth, keeping you quiet despite the little whimpers you let out as she pulled back, allowing something warm to run over your skin and pool near your collarbone. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it would get on your dress, if it would leave a stain. You wondered if she would apologize, when it did.

“Spoiled little brat,” She growled, nearly under her breath. Her grip loosened, Rosaria shifting, but any reprieve was short-lived, quickly replaced by two fingers pressed into your tongue and a row of nails clawing at your waist, pulling at your skirt, leaving you to gag and whimper as ice-cold fingertips dug into your thigh, cold enough to leave you trembling. She wasn’t holding you, not really, not tightly enough to call it restraint, but your body felt weak, your legs were shaking, and you couldn’t imagine trying to run. You couldn’t imagine trying to stand. You were almost thankful for the knee she forced between your thighs, for the trace of stability she thought to offer. You wanted to be thankful. You were trying to be thankful. “No talking, alright? I need you to keep quiet. Can you do that for me?”

Right. Obviously. Rosaria was so smart. She always knew what to do, so she must’ve been right, and she was so kind, too, letting her fingers slip out of your mouth as soon as you offered her the small, eager nod she was looking for. You were glad she was wearing leather, a jacket a size too big and pants that clung to her like a second skin – it gave you something tangible to hold onto, something to hide your face in, even if you hated the texture, the sound, the way it felt under you as she cupped your pussy and some thin piece of fabric tore, forcing you to shy into her just a little more. You almost asked why. If she didn't like your dress, she could’ve just told you. If she didn’t like you, she could’ve said so in a way that didn’t make you feel so…

So bad.

“You said you were hot.” Rosaria was talking before you could, though, explaining herself. Why was she allowed to talk? Part of you wavered, flickered, realized that she wasn’t being fair, that she wasn’t being nice, but Rosaria was good at this kind of thing. She must’ve known something you didn’t. That’d make sense. She knew a lot of stuff, compared to the handful of foggy ideas that separated your mind from total oblivion. “I’m just helping you out. You’re not stupid enough to turn down help, are you?”

You shook your head. You weren’t, even if she chuckled at your meek response, even if you couldn’t see how grinding her hand into your cunt could help you feel anything but hot, like you’d been in the sun for an hour too long. Like you were being burnt alive, and Rosaria was the one stoking the flames.

Your thoughts were spinning, now, twisting, spiraling, the need to shut your eyes and make it stop almost overshadowing the slick building up between your legs, that awful, sticky feeling that made you squirm, holding Rosaria tighter and attempting to weakly push her away at the same time. The embarrassment was palpable, that nagging sense of shame, only made worse by Rosaria’s huff of a laugh, by the lingering sensation of her teeth ghosting over your skin and the way you jolted into her, anything intelligent you might’ve said replaced by a small, submissive whimper. It was embarrassing. You wanted it to stop. You wanted her to stop.

But, she didn’t. She wouldn't. You couldn't force her to.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask.

It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel like much of anything, honestly, as her fingers slipped below the black lace of your panties, as she toyed with your clit and drank in those pathetic sounds you might’ve thought someone else was making, if your own voice hadn’t been so recognizable. Your body was too numb, your nerves already too burnt, Rosaria’s chest too cold where it pressed against yours, like your life depended on little more than ice and sleet. It didn’t feel good, but your face must’ve been flushed, your pupils blown out, your scrunched expression littered with hints that you were in anything but agony. Rosaria sounded smug. She wouldn’t sound like that, not unless you gave her a reason to. She wouldn’t do that to you, not unless she thought you deserved it.

“For fuck’s sake,” She drawled, slowly, like she didn’t have anywhere better to be. She didn’t have anywhere better to be. She wouldn’t have bothered to spend time with you, otherwise. “You’re already so damn wet. If I’d known you’d be this needy, I wouldn't have bothered with the fucking pills.”

You opened your mouth, but you were barely able to get out a strangled cry before something was inside of you, your panties pushed to the side and two long fingers scissoring you open, too quickly, too suddenly, too violently. It was like she’d broken a dam, like some necessary barrier had been crossed and crushed, like everything you’d lacked, earlier, everything your mind had been merciful enough to block out came flooding in for the first time. There was the sting, tight and tearing and impatient, but there was pleasure, too, something beyond awareness, something beyond discomfort. It was a fire, smoldering and invasive, and you didn’t like it. You didn’t like the way your hips bucked to meet her hand, or the new weight behind your eyes, or her smirk, her smile, her self-satisfied sneer. You didn’t like that she was happy. You didn’t like that you were in pain, and she was happy. If you were being honest with yourself, you might’ve been able to admit you didn’t like Rosaria at all, right now.

“S-Stop, Rosey, it hurts—” She had a pattern, now, a tangible pace, a vengeance you wished you'd never provoked. She must’ve hated you. She must’ve. You couldn’t think of another reason she’d curl her fingers like that, another reason she’d abuse every sensitive spot that made you whine and tremble and tense-up, another reason she’d be so mean, especially to you, especially now, especially here. It wouldn’t even matter if you made noise, if you cried out, if you screamed. It couldn’t be louder than your rapid heartbeat, your racing pulse, the wet clicks that only got worse as Rosaria slipped a third finger in and left you to clench around her, too humiliated to care about the slight pain. “Please, I don’t wanna—”

“What did I say about talking?” She was being cold again, ruthless, but it was a playful sort of cruelness, her tone just lilted enough to make you feel guilty for trying to convince yourself she was such a monster. “You don’t want to what? Sit pretty and let me do all the work? Stand there and cum?” There was a laugh, a flick of her wrist, and the heel of her hand came up to grind against your clit. Instantly, you wished you’d never said anything at all. “Do it. Make yourself useful, for once. Cum.”

You didn’t want to. You really, really, really didn’t want to, but there was nothing you could do to stave it off, to get away from it, to keep your knees from buckling or your body from going rigid or Rosaria from kissing you, stifling the breathy moan that threatened to spill out between choked sobs and quiet pleas for her to stop. At least she was gentle about it, as gentle as she could be, pointed canines barely cutting at your lips, a cloud of lingering cigarette smoke barely choking you, her touch barely forceful enough to bruise, as she cupped your cheek with her free hand, tilting your head back and encouraging you to lean into the gesture.

It was almost sweet, how she lingered, how she didn’t pull away until after the aftershocks had faded, until you’d stopped trying to resist, until you were too tired to do anything but collapse into her when she let you go, catching you the moment you threatened to fold into yourself. It was a small mercy. You didn’t want to spend the rest of the night on the ground, sobbing yourself to sleep in some dark, claustrophobic alley. You didn’t want to do that. You didn’t want to be here.

You just wanted to be with Rosaria. You just wanted to be anywhere else, with her.

“Rosey,” you tried, testing the waters. You tried to blink, to stand up on your own, but your eyelids felt heavy, you felt heavy. Rosaria only hummed, in response, snaking an arm around your waist. Already, you were struggling to remember why you couldn’t stand. You were struggling to remember why it hurt so much, when you tried to. “I… I’m not having fun, anymore. Can we go home?”

“You’re lucky I like you, princess.” You were. She was such a good friend, and she always came out drinking with you, and she always took care of you the day afterward, too, when you were sore and hungover and, more often than not, too bruised and battered to get out of bed. Even if the kiss she pressed into the top of your head made you shiver, even if the ghost of her icy breath made your skin crawl, even if a part of you was still begging to keep her at a distance, you were lucky to have her. You were thankful you had her, thankful enough to ignore how low her hands dipped as she held you up, thankful enough to stop yourself from thinking about the slick dripping down your thighs, and the cut on the side of your neck, and the chalk coating your tongue, tasteless and unremarkable, but not completely unfamiliar.

Thankful enough to look up at her and smile, as she finally sapped away the last of your warmth.

“Let’s go home.”

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere prompts #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oneshot #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #yandere rosaria #rosaria x reader #yandere fantasy #yandere fanfiction #yanderecore #yancore

[peakyscillian]

| But a number | Cillian x Fem!Reader | Mini-Series | Part Two |

Summary: Reader is a young well known actress, Cillian is her older boyfriend. How do they manage with all the attention? Request: Anon. Warnings: Language. 18+. Age Gap (19 years but Reader is in her 20's) A/N: I kept this as close to the request as I could but there was some things I just went with the flow. It's a bit shorter than intended. Not my gif, if anyone knows who it belongs to please let me know!

•But a number•

Part One Masterlist

The fact Cillian had decided that he wasn't going to partake in any social media, made it even more of an amusing task when you'd snap candid pictures of him and post them with lewd captions and emojis. Like a little secret you kept from your forty something boyfriend, who was just apparently too old for instagram. Well it was secret until this morning, you were out in the garden before Cillian had woke up. A cup of coffee sitting on the table as you scrolled through your socials. Cillian had somehow crept up behind you "Is that me?" he questioned You jumped half way off the chair, clutching your chest with a yelp almost dropping your phone onto the decking. "Uhm yes" you bit at your lip.

"What the hell are those" he was squinting at your screen, having not put his glasses on or contacts in when he woke up to come find you. You flicked the app away, turned your face to him, pouting your lips for a kiss. "You're not distracting me that easily" he laughed grabbing for your phone. "Cill-ian" you screeched as his hands started a ticklish assult on your sides "emoji's, they were emoji's" you confessed a blush spreading on your skin. He had finally found the instagram app, his eyes scanning your profile, the odd picture of him that you had took, the cute pictures you insisted you took together. He liked the fact you were so open about being with him, he couldn't really love you anymore than this moment right now.

"Why is this emoji drooling?" he quirked a brow in your direction a smirk on his face. Instead of answering you grabbed your coffee cup and headed for the kitchen, he was hot on your heels. "Tell me" he was whining like a child, you laughed as he pinned you against the side. You rolled your eyes once more "because Cillian Murphy, when I'm not filming, drooling over you is my full time job" you stated without a hint of sarcasm in your tone.

He processed what you said mind ticking over "Maybe I should get one of these apps, show you off"

You're hands were round his neck, fingers playing with the soft hair at the base "You? on instagram?"

Cillian frowned "I could do it" he reached to grab his old iphone 7 off the side behind you "I'll do it right now, just watch" You had jumped to sit on the kitchen side, legs swinging as you waited, finally he looked up at you "what's my email again? why do I need one to sign up?" A laugh bubbled past your lips, your head thrown back "give it here old man" You set up instagram that he never used.

*** Taglist: @queenshelby @cloudofdisney @janelongxox @datewithgianni @elenavampire21 @lawfeys @magicalpieex

#Cillian Murphy #Cillian x Fem!Reader #Mini series #Request #anonymous request #my writing #but a number #fluff #instagram #cillian fluff #taglist #request #peaky blinders #Cillian #CM

[thestarsanctuary]

REQUEST THINGS TO CONSIDER!! PLEASE READ BEFORE REQUESTING!

REQUESTS IN GENERAL -

When it comes to requests I write:

Headcannons - 5 is the hard limit for characters.

One-Shots

I will only do part 2’s if they are really in demand, just because I don’t want to dwell on how to write it.

N O SMUT, or NSFW content (there may be hints of it in some situations however

I’m not writing about drugs or people getting high ✋🏾

I can write about triggering topics like suicide or past-absuive relationships/assult but it wouldn’t be that romantic. I don’t think those things should be turned into some plot for kisses like they are very serious and traumatic so keep that in mind if you request so it will have platonic/romantic aspects but it will not be fluff overall.

SHOWS AND CHARACTERS WITHIN THE SHOWS -

Haikyuu - EVERYONE EXCLUDING...

XXX

(Keep in mind since there are so many characters I cannot exactly do all of them as well as others)

My Hero Academia - EVERYONE EXLUDING...

Endeavor - Not because of his character but because he does have a wife (despite putting her in the hospital 😀) and I don’t feel comfy writing about him like that

Kouji Koda - He honestly hasn’t had a lot of scenes and I’m barely sure how mans got in the program.

Mineta - idc if I’m in the majority for this but I do not like him.

Tooru Hagakure - Once again her character has barely any depth and idk how she even got in why is she there

Rikidou Satou - S A M E R E A S O N except I can understand how he got in. Ish.

Mashiro Ojiro - he just needs somethin else I don’t know how to write him properly.

Twice - mannn c’mon now

Spinner - it’s just a no from me

Kurogiri - he’s well...I don’t know how to make that happen

OVERHAUL - I HATE THIS MAN AND I WANT YOU ALL TO KNOW THAT WITH A PASSION.

i can write for Kaminari but I don’t think I could do him as accurately as the rest.

One Punch Man - NOBODY EXCUDING...

Saitama

Genos

everybody else is just irrelevant 💀

Attack on Titan - EVERYBODY EXCLUDING...

Reiner - I just can’t find it in me tbh

Bertholdt - I can barely spell his name.

Historia - belongs to Ymir idc

Ymir - same reasoning

Basically all the kids like Gabi n stuff bc....they’re kids.

Death Note - NOBODY EXCLUDING...

Yagami

L

Misa

Matsuda

I can do Ryuk and Rem if it’s platonic.

I m a y be able to do Mello but I’m not that good with the rest of their personalites. One request will have other characters in it I believe because they requested it before I made this. So it is my fault.

Great Pretender - NOBODY EXCLUDING...

Laurent

Makoto

Abby

Paula

Dorothy

KUROKO NO BASKET - COMPLICATED

I can do all of the GOM + Taiga, as well as all of Seirin, because there are so many characters I just want to do the ones I know the best,

ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM - hm.

Okay. I COULD write for them ONLY in very very calm scenes or platonic ones. You MaKiNg oUt with them isn’t an option bc it doesn’t really matter if they were aged up in the last few scenes if I picture them- I picture them as kids. so only scenes like “headcannons of you and Karma studying together” or things of that regard.

DEMON SLAYER - NOBODY EXCLUDING...

Tanjiro - once again, nothing overly romantic as I’m pretty sure these guys are still kids.

Zenitsu - same thing.

Inosuke - same thing.

Nezuko - ONLY PLATONIC.

I can do the Demon Slayer Corps but I won’t do Sanemi or Muichiro- probably not Obanai either because I know enough about who everybody else is, I’ll read the manga soon and this whill change.

KAKEGURUI - EVERYBODY EXCEPT...

XXX

JUJUTSU KAISEN - EVERYBODY EXCEPT...

XXX

DAREDEVIL - NOBODY EXCEPT…

Matt Murdock

Karen Page

Foggy Nelson

THE PUNISHER - NOBODY EXCEPT…

Frank Castle

JESSICA JONES - NOBODY EXCEPT…

Jessica Jones

—————

I think I covered everything!!!

- SS

#knb x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #my hero x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #death note x reader #kakegurui x reader #demon slayer x reader #headcannons #oneshot

[jawritter]

His Heaven

Request: Heyy I love your ABO fics and I have a request for you. You can always say no to this if you’re uncomfortable. I’ll completely understand and I’m very sorry. Can you do one with Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader. Where the reader is on a supply run and she gets assaulted and tortured by a monster and when she gets back to the bunker somehow, she only allows her Alpha anywhere near her and refuses help from anyone else. Dean takes care of her and helps her heal.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 2683

Warning: Kidnapping, injured!reader, ABO dynamics, smut, unprotected sex, talk tourchour, hints of a pinic attack, language, scenting, reclaiming, marking, mentions of assult, trauma induced by tourchur. I think that’s it. Sorry If I missed anything.

Beta’d by the amazing @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid! Also a big shout out to @deanwanddamons  who is currently working on our 1k binge read! You both are awesome! 

A/N: As always please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!! 

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

**MASTERLIST**

Pulling at the restraints that were holding your arms above your head you curse yourself for not having seen this coming. 

You knew that demon that escaped Dean and yourself in Kansas City would come back to bite you in the ass one day, you just didn’t think it would be this soon. Alas here you are, in a dark wet basement, tied to a pole in the center of the room with a variety of tortuous instruments that the damn thing had been using on you for the past two days strown randomly throughout the room on tables.

You knew that you were just bait, that you were nothing but a lure for Dean. The demon knew that your Alpha would stop at nothing to save you from this bastard, and you also knew that’s when the demon would try and kill him. 

You couldn’t let that happen, you refused to let it happen. You’d die trying to get out of here before you let that happen. 

Sure, Dean was your Alpha, and yes Dean was the one by nature and biology that protected you, but your biggest fear was Dean would get hurt protecting you.

Pulling on the restraints one more time you prayed with everything in you that by some miracle they would break. 

Nothing.

Your arms, legs, and back were littered with little cuts, and gashes; courtesy of the demon that was holding you captive, and every movement seemed to sting in new places. 

Letting your weight sag you notice that the rope holding you to your pole gave with your weight some, whereas it wasn’t earlier. So you pulled further and again, until soon more of the rope loosened, allowing you to pull your arms lower. A nail along the wall snagged the thick rope causing it frayed. 

With two more heavy pulls the rope that had you bound finally broke free, and you fell to the floor with a thud. 

Thanking Chuck that your capture seemed to have not heard you, you pulled yourself up from the floor using the table in front of you. 

The room was dimly lit by the sun coming through a window that at one point had been painted, but was now started to fade, and allow little rays of light to filter through. 

As quietly as you could, you climbed on top of the covered furnishings and lawn equipment that lay askew across the walls, and pulled at the window. To your great surprise, and relief it was open. 

Hoisting yourself up on your injured forearms you pulled your battered body through the window, and onto the grass outside. Taking only a moment to see your surroundings in order to tell your Alpha where this bastard was hiding, you break for the tree line, and away from your personal hell that you’d been in for three days.

Dean wouldn’t have even known you were missing, he had been on a hunt in Ohio, Wendigo from the looks of it, and wasn’t due to be home until today. You had gone on a supply run so that you could make him his favorite pie when he got home. You knew your heat was coming, and it was somewhat of a tradition between the two of you for you to pamper him the full week before your heat hit, since he was going to spend the following days taking such good care of you.

Dean always insisted that it was unnecessary, and he enjoyed helping you through your heats, that he was there for you, but you still felt the need to pamper him, and he didn't fight you on it much.

You never would have guessed that the demon would have jumped you as soon as you got out of the car, before you were even able to get to the grocery store. 

You also didn’t expect him to be so stupid as to not take your car keys from your pocket, and hide your car. Then again he probably wanted Dean to find it. 

You thought you were okay, you made it back to your car, and into the Bunker garage without so much as batting an eye. You had been a hunter your whole life after all, and being kidnapped and torture just came with the territory, but as you put the car in park, and set back against your seat, a whole new feeling hit you all together. 

Fear. 

Shaking, you opened the door to your car, and almost fell out of it onto the concrete floor of the garage. Your breath was coming in short, sparaitic spurts, and your chest felt like it had a thousand pound weight on it, that was pressing harder and harder with each passing breath that pushed through your burning lungs.

You began to try and crawl your way into the bunker when you heard the door burst open, and Sam’s heavy footsteps coming towards you.

“Y/n?” he yelled upon seeing you laying on the floor, running towards you, yelling for Dean. 

You knew that Sam would have died before he ever laid a hand on you to hurt you, but the demon that had trapped you had been an Alpha, and something in the strong Alpha scent that wasn’t your Alpha sent you reeling over the edge. 

A deep growl rumbled in your chest, and you backed yourself against the back tire of Baby, baring your teeth at him like some wild animal, with every intent of it signaling to him if he tried to get to close or touch you, that you were prepared to go as far as ripping his arms off to protect yourself. 

Cas and Dean came to a running stop right at the side of Sam, who was now backing up with his hands in the air. 

Cas held his position, but Dean didn’t hesitate in dropping to his knees, and pulling you into his lap, his scent surrounding you and comforting you for the first time in days. 

“What the fuck happed? Who did this to you?” Dean asks you, his teeth gritted and low growls falling from his chest. 

You couldn’t answer him, your focus on Cas as he made his way over to you, before he could even kneel down to check your injuries a growl ripped through your body that even made your Alpha jump in surprise. 

“Y/n, I can heal you if you let me.” Cas said calmly, but you were feeling anything but calm at the moment and wanted no one but you Alpha to touch you. 

“No,” you growled through gritted teeth, and Dean pulled you closer to his chest, allowing you to bury your face in his neck, breathing in his scent deeply. 

“Baby girl, you have to tell us what happened.” Dean said, running his hands through your matted hair in an attempt to calm you as the tears you had been holding back all this time made their way to the surface. 

“That demon from Kansas city jumped me as I got out of the car. He kept me trapped in the basement for days, a house just at the end of 11th street with a busted up white fence, Dean...I’m sorry I shouldn’t have left the bunker without you, I just wanted to..” 

Dean shushed your rambling apology by pressing his lips to yours. A peace seeped through you in a rush of relief at the close contact. 

Breaking the kiss,Dean turned to silently communicate to Sam what needed to be done. Sam in turn nodded and then got into your car with Cas, both of them going to rid the world of that asshole once and for all, and leaving you under the care of the only man you would let touch you. 

Dean lefted the two of you with ease, making his way into the bunker and into the showers with you as if you weighed nothing at all. You kept your face buried in his neck the whole way, your body trembling with exhaustion, and pain as he made slow calculated movements so as to not jostle you around too much.

Dean sat you on the ground next to the bathtub, leaving you just long enough to start the water filling in the tub before coming to strip your filthy clothing from you, or what was left of it anyway. 

You numbly let him do with you whatever he wanted. You had no fight, and you had no strength left in your body. All your fight had been used up to get back to your Alpha, and now that you were here, you had to trust him so he would protect you. You wanted nothing more than to sink into your bed, with your Alpha’s arms around you, where you knew you were safe. 

Lifting you carefully off the floor, Dean laid you down in the bathtub that he’d filled with Epsom Salt to sterilize the wounds that covered your body, thankfully none of them were too deep, but you still hissed at the burn before letting the hot water relax your aching muscles.  

Once Dean had you settled in the bath, he moved to strip himself of his own clothing, before setting in behind you, wrapping you in his arms, and cupping water over your hair as he washed away all the evidence of what was done to you aside from the cuts that littered your skin.

He took his time in silence, washing your hair, and making his way over your whole body with you in his hold. 

Once he was done he got you both dried off and carried you to your shared bedroom, putting you down in your bed before retrieving one of his flannels to slip over you body, wrapping you up completely in his scent before he climbed in and pulled you into his embrace. His lips tracing over yours in a comforting, calming way that only he could. 

“I failed you, Omega. This is my fault that this happened to you, if I would have killed that son of a bitch in Kansas City he would have never hurt you.”

Shaking your head furiously you place your lips to his as the first barely there cramp of your heat rolled through your body. Letting you know of the impending need that would surely be there by morning. 

Dean scensed the change in your scent, and pulled you closer to him, nuzzling himself into your neck and breathing you in deeply. 

“Dean, this was just as much my fault as it is yours. I know you don’t like me going on supply runs while you're not here, and I did it anyway against better judgement.”

Dean huffed, clearly kicking himself for not being here to protect you when you were captured. 

“Either way, that bastard will be dead as soon as Cas and Sam get ahold of him, and then we will never have to worry about that again.” 

The thought of the way you acted in the garage hit you, and you buried yourself impossibly deeper into Dean’s hold. Dean, sensing the change in you, lifted your chin a little with his finger, eyes searching yours. 

“I will never let anything like that happen to you again, Omega, I swear it.” 

You nibbled on your lip and nodded your head, allowing Dean to comfort and reassure you. Knowing that’s what you needed more than you wanted to admit. 

“I’m sorry that I acted like that with Sam and Cas, I know they were just trying to help,” you mumbled against his throat as his hands instinctively wandered your body, pressing deeply into your back, and pulling you closer to his warm body as another mild cramp rolled through your abdomen. 

“It’s okay baby, they understand.” 

Dean’s fingers press into your hips, and pull you closer to him, his erection pressing into your thigh as he hoists your leg over his hips, pressing himself against your bare center. 

“Right now I don’t want you to worry about none of that, that son of a bitch is as good as dead. He can’t hurt you again. You're safe here with me. Now let me make my baby girl feel better, I can sense your heat is close, and I want to make love to my girl one more time before it hits.”

You needed him, you knew you needed him. There was something special about an Alpha and his Omega. It was more than needed, it was deeper than heats and ruts, it surprised biology, it was that unexplainable bond. A bond that went beyond all reasoning and understanding, a bond that when connected could heal all wounds, mental and physical, it didn’t matter it was greater than that. It put together broken pieces, and made things that were once severed whole. 

That’s what you needed more than anything right now, to feel whole. 

Dean rutted his leaking cock through your rapidly soaking folds, your body reacting in a way only he seemed to be able to make it. The spongy tip created the most delicious friction against your aching bundle of nerves as he drove you higher and higher, grinding himself against you, layering you with his scent as his teeth grazed your mating gland, and over his mark, a shiver running down your spin, and landing deep in your core. Your velvet walls contracting around nothing as your hips start to roll with his on their own. 

“Alpha, please, I need you.” you begged him, nails digging into his shoulders as he continued to tease you with his cock. Not giving you what you need, but giving you just enough to drive you crazy.

“I got you, Omega, I know what you need.” he purs as he breaches your entrance and with one full thrust seats himself deep inside of you. The stretch of him catching you by surprise, and stealing your breath form you as sheer pleasure rips through your body. Your mouth falling open in a soundless scream. 

Dean’s hands slipped around your back and under his flannel as his lips make their way down your throat, giving you a moment to adjust to him before he started to rock his hips into you. Keeping himself buried deep in your wet heat. His knot forming quickly as the coil in your belly wound tighter and tighter with each roll of your hips with his, your bodies working together as his pelvis provided just the right amount of pressure against your aching clit. 

Before you had time to even warn him you were coming undone in his lap. Your walls clamping down around him as your orgasm ripped through your body, a scream of his name falling from your lips as your release triggered his, his teeth sinking deep into your mating gland, reclaiming you as his own, and sealing your bond deeper than you ever thought possible, your walls milking his knot as his body locks with yours, and warm ropes of cum spill deep inside your womb. 

Laying there locked together with your Alpha you let the peace that surrounded you lull you to a peaceful sleep. Dean watches over you, garding you, protecting you, like he would do until the day he died. 

He made a promise to himself to never let anything hurt you again. 

“Mine.” he mumbled into your hair, as you nuzzled into him in your peaceful slumber. 

The life that you both lived almost guaranteed that one day one would be taken from the other, but right now, with you lying here in his arms, he was in heaven, and if his battered, torn soul never made it over there, he’d cherish these moments even in hell. This was all that he'd ever need, and he’d protect you with is life. He knew it would take a while to get you over this attack that you didn’t deserve, but he’d be there with you every step of the way until you were whole again.

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

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#dean winchester #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean #omgea!reader #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha dean winchester omega x reader #abo #abo dynamics #dean winchetser fanfiction #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #x reader inserts #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jensen ackles #jawritter

[drreidfics]

Dr. Reid and the Broken Girl pt.2

DR. REID AND THE BROKEN GIRL (Working Title)

Characters : SpencerReid x FemReader

Warnings : Abuse, Hints of Self Harm, Eating Disorders, Scenes of Suicidal Behaviours.

CAUTION // TW // THIS BOOK DEALS WITH MATURE CONTENT SUCH AS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT RELATIONSHIP, SEXUAL ASSULT, SELF HARM, MENTAL ILLNESS AND SUBSTANCE ABUSE. IT ALSO INCLUDES A LOT OF RATED-R MATERIAL. IF THIS IS TRIGGERING OR MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE THEN PLEASE DON’T READ.

I munched on a crunchy chicken taco. It was all I was allowing myself to have today. I'd had a try of Dr. Reid's homemade soup that he had made. He was adorable. It was the sweetest thing. His soup would steam up his reading glasses as he slurped the juice off of his spoon. I wish I was that spoon!

"You have to try this Sweet, It's my momma's recipe" he beamed, pushing the spoon towards me.

"But I'm dieting"

"Stop being silly. There's hardly anything on you". He lifted the spoon to my mouth. I slurped the soup. I will admit, it was yummy.

"I am round under these clothes" I joked.

"Round in the places that count" He retorted before clearing his throat and blushing, realising what he had said might have been inappropriate. It gave me butterflies. He liked my body, but my head was a mess and the only opinion that mattered was the screaming voice within it Feeling fat, I nibbled at the taco in my hand. I'd already eaten way too much. Luna slurped on her drink loudly. I frowned. Here we go.

"I saw Dom around town during study break" Luna stated, staring down at her tray full of food."Study break is for studying, not shopping!" I joked, trying to change the subject. My eyes darted anywhere but her. "It's still happening isn't it" She stated matter of factly. I couldn't reply. I could only stare at the floor. What did she expect me to say? Open up to her and tell her all the gory details? She knew enough as it was. She had seen the parts of me, the marks on me, that nobody else had. She had kissed my bruises once upon a time, made me feel safe, cuddled me to sleep. She knew intimate details nobody else did and she swore blind she would kill him. I had to talk her out of going to the cops. It would only make things worse, I'd protest. It usually ended in an argument. Maybe I would tell her everything that is going on within me one day. But today wasn't that day.

She sensed that she had stepped out of line and the look in her eyes told me that she felt terrible. In reality, she shouldn't have, she was my best friend, once was more, and she cared for me. I was the one out of line. I was making her feel bad for caring. My nails picked at the skin on my opposite hand. She noticed and reached her arm over, her hand cupping mine and her thumb stroking my wrist. She opened her mouth to speak again

"and this has to stop too. This not eating, the self-harm, this bad self-image. It's gotta stop."

I sighed. I knew she was right. But I wasn't going to admit it. A look of anguish crossed her perfectly symmetrical face. I looked down at the tray of food in front of us. It was easy for her to say. She was beautiful. She was everything I was not. I wasn't ready to get help. That was the whole truth. You cannot help a person if they are not willing to get help. I am not willing.

"I have eaten today" I said hoping that it would convince her to drop the subject. "A shitty taco from shitty Taco Bell isn't enough - no offence' She said, turning her head to the nosey cleaning lady stood by our table, earwigging for the last bit. I couldn't help but giggle. "I ate earlier" "Mmh, When?" "Dr. Reid gave me a bit of his lunch". A smirk crossed her perfect features. "Y/N and Reid, sitting in a - ' "-Hi," an all too familiar voice interrupted, from behind me, sounding shy. My heart fluttered at the sound of it. I could recognise it anywhere. My cheeks burned a bright red. Had he heard? How long had he been stood there? I am going to kill her, I thought. Luna is forever dropping me in the shit. I kicked her leg gently from under the table and turned to face him. He looked nervous... adorable. "Oh, hi Dr." Luna said, looking past me, smiling. "Y/N, thanks for the dinner". She turned to Spencer. "I was just leaving for the bathroom. You can have my seat! You kids have fun!" she joked.

She stood up, kissing my cheek and gathering her belongings, before skipping away. What was she doing? I thought. She ran towards the glass exit doors. I am going to murder her, one day, I really am. It was pouring rain, it was dark, it was cold and she was my ride.

"I'm - I'm thirty-" Dr. Reid called after her, looking like a lost pup, his social awkwardness coming out. He stood around awkwardly and licked his bottom lip. I loved it when he did that. I had noticed he had done it a few times around me and he had confessed to me that that was what he did when he was nervous. Do I make him nervous? ... Stop this thought process! He was probably nervous because he had just bumped into his college student un-arranged outside of class. It had nothing at all to do with me. Still, what I wouldn't give for him to bend me over and fuck me right now. I bit my lip as thoughts of him bending me over the table and taking me entered my mind.

"I haven't interrupted your date have I?" he asked grimacing, interrupting my dirty thoughts and swaying side to side.

A small smile spread across my face. Yes, he was interrupting, butnot for the reason he thinks. He swayed a little, unsure of what to do with himself, and straightened out his coat.

"No. We're friends. You know this" I replied warmly. "Well, we were, then we were kind of dating, now we're not. I'm not gay. Well I kind of am. I'm not sure what I am. Oh, you know this all - I do like men too - Sorry, I'm oversharing. I do that when I'm nervous" I stuttered, anxious. He looked amused now, his dark eyes twinkling. He looked amazing.

I noticed his top button was undone and I just wanted to rip off the rest of his shirt. His hair was slightly messier than usual. I wanted to run my fingers through it. He must have had a stressful day. Don't worry Dr. Reid, my mouth could make it all better, I thought.

His black trench coat fitted him perfectly. He had it unbuttoned slightly and he had on a purple scarf with a brown saddle bag. I loved the vintage element that he somehow managed to incorporate into anything he wore. He always looked smart. And hot. He had a hand full of brown paper shopping bags and a coffee in his spare hand.

"Hey, none of my business what you like to do in the bedroom. You can like whoever you want to like, I was just worried I'd interrupted." he held up his hands defensively, a cheeky smirk on his face. "Excuse me if I'm wrong but I think your friend has left you. I mean, that's definitely not the bathroom door... unless I've been doing it wrong my whole life." he joked with a smile as he slipped into the booth seat across from me.

I giggled at his joke. It wasn't a forced giggle. It was a genuine one. He always made me giggle when I was around him. Maybe it was the excitement that he filled me with. The light hit his eyes perfectly. Beautiful, shiny, and captivating. I could have stared into them all night. He smiled and, looking down shyly, took a sip of his steaming coffee. "Who comes to Taco Bell for coffee?" I questioned, my tone a teasing one. He smiled up at me. "Who comes to Taco Bell for a date?" he retorted. I put up my middle finger. He mocked heartbreak. "No I got this overpriced beauty at Starbucks. I was walking by and I saw you in here and couldn't resist not seeing you"

I blushed violently. He shuffled awkwardly in his seat and cleared his throat. An awkward silence filled the air. This was the first time I had felt at a loss for words around him. I don't think he meant it like I wished he did. He doesn't like me. He's just friendly. His eyes darted anywhere but mine. He most certainly didn't mean it in the way that I was hoping he'd mean it and that was why he couldn't look me in the eye. He probably came to ask me how my school work was going or something. We had flirted quite a bit but it was all fun and games... that or his awkward social interaction.

"I like our conversations Spence, so... I'm glad." I smiled trying to fill the awkward silence and taking a slurp of my diet soda. He smiled before looking behind him. "Is your friend coming back?" he asked, his beautiful eyes darting from me to the door. I looked around. She'd taken her coat, her bag and her car keys with her when she left. I had presumed she'd wait in her car for me... I turned to look out the window and noticed her car was no longer there. I guess she's not...

"No. I don't think so. Sorry about her. She's a little..."                                            "-Erratic?'" he asked, interrupting me and brushing his, slightly curled at the end, chestnut coloured hair out of his eyes.                                                                                                                                           

  "Yes. And she was my ride." I sighed.

"Huh -”

“- don't worry, I can give you a ride" he smiled, as he shoved a handful of Luna's leftover fries into his mouth, making me smile. He looked so cute. I've never wanted to hold someone more than what I did in that moment. Damn it, stop this, I scolded. It was no use having feelings for someone, who'd never love you back, right? All I was doing was teasing myself. A man like him would never fall for a girl like me regardless of whether he was my professor or not. I knew this, he knew this and I needed to stop being so silly.

"Thank-you" I smiled. He smiled back. "I am a true gentleman. So, how was your day?" He asked, still shoving cold fries into his mouth. "It was pretty shitty, to be honest. My lunch break was fun though" I smiled. He winked at me making my heart flutter. "I have that charm" he joked. "You'll have to keep me around to save your day". "Oh for sure I do" I smiled.

He slipped his legs further towards me, wrapping them around mine, from underneath the table. Normally I would flinch and jolt back at any sort of unsuspected human touch. But, I didn't move. It just felt so...natural. So... right. Being so close to him always made me feel safe.

If his legs were giving me so many sparks then I can't imagine what his dick would feel like. I felt heat radiating from down there. I find it very hard to get turned on due to what I am dealing with but he just does wonders to me. I am a hot mess around him. I felt wrong thinking this. Not only was he my professor, my best friend, but I felt guilt for thinking that way given my situation. I shouldn't want a man to touch me. Should I? I usually don't. The only person I could ever stand the thought of touching me intimately was Luna... Until this man entered my life. Dr. Reid... What are you doing to me.

After an hour of talking and laughing we had decided it was time to call it a night. The manager of the restaurant, looked at us throughout, pretty annoyed. The poor woman just wanted to close up for the night but was too polite to ask us to leave.

He skipped in front of me in the empty car park, laughing joyously before spinning around to look at me. "So, home?" he asked. I nodded. Yeah, home... "Oh. Here you go". He slipped his coat off of his shoulders and wrapped it around me. The fall air had dropped cold. Extreme opposite to the warm weather we had throughout the day. I didn't think I could fall more in love. Was I really in love though? I mean, can you really be in love with someone that you have never been intimate with? Of course, you can, right? Intimacy doesn't have to be sex, I reminded myself.

I'd known him for over a year now. We had been close since the first day he walked into the classroom, on that cold depressing day in September, and announced that he was taking over Professor Baldwin. I still remember his face, how he looked as I peaked up from the book that I was reading, his eyes softening as they met mine. I'd always felt this connection with him. I can't explain it nor can I act on it. I just feel like, whenever we're near, he made me complete.

He has helped me through so much knowingly and unknowingly. He was there for me when Luna and I hit a rough spot in - whatever we had that was going on - we didn't name it and I'm glad of that. He along with Luna is the only person who knows I find both genders attractive. I would never dare tell Sharon. She was very old school. I was worried of how she might react. He also knew about my constant dieting - though not to the extent in which I did it - and I'd confide in him many a times when I just wanted it all to end. He had stayed up all night talking me down many times. I would never dare tell him that a lot of times I acted upon those thoughts though. He didn't get to know that part. Nor did he get to know what was going on at home. It was embarrassing. I would class him as one of my best friends. Was that weird? To be so close to your professor? I suppose it would be even weirder if I tired to act upon the dirty thoughts in my mind...

He interrupted my thoughts, pulling a set of car keys from his back pocket, unlocking his car. It was a very nice, expensive car. Sometimes I wondered if he was a part-time stripper with the car and the apartment (he had shown me pictures of it before he had moved in last fall.). He had an expensive taste that a teachers salary probably couldn't buy. There was something hiding behind those dark, mysterious eyes. My guess is a stripper. Heck, I'd pay to watch that.

I opened the passenger side door as he threw his bags into the boot. I wish I didn't have to go home. Back to him... "I'll direct you if you want?" I asked knowing the answer would be no. "No, it's ok, I don't live far from there so I can alway's remember where you live. I actually viewed a house to rent around that area." he smiled as he slipped into the driving seat and placed his keys in the ignition. "plus, eidetic memory?" he winked. I nodded my head as he shifted into drive pulled out of the parking lot. "Bet your alone time is always fun" I joked, biting my lip. "That it is" he smiled mysteriously.

It was a quiet drive. The rain pattered heavily against the windscreen and the wind blew violently. It was nice to listen to. It wasn't like we didn't have anything to talk about. It was just that we enjoyed being in each others company regardless of the silence. I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket and I scrambled trying to find it. Spencer glanced over. Curious as to what I was doing.

"Text" I informed him. He smiled warmly and nodded before focusing back on the road. The phone screen lit up the car brightly hurting my eyes slightly. I was expecting a text from Luna asking how it was going or begging me to come round for some 'girl time' but it wasn't her. Instead, it was from Dom.

'Mom on business again. Means I get to do whatever I want 2 u for a week. U'll be sorry Luna got involved again. .' it read.

No, this can't be happening. I'm going to have a panic attack, I thought. No matter how often this happens it still hurts the same. The fear is still the same. How could she do this to me? I thought angrily. A tear fell from my eye and my breathing became heavy. I wiped it away frantically, hoping Spence hadn't seen it, my mind filled with thoughts of dread. What was he going to do? I always think that he had done his worst but he always seems to beat it every time his mother went away. Maybe this time he'll kill me. As sick as it was, that thought was the kindest thing he could do. Maybe I would have the guts end my own life tonight and get it over with.

"What is that?" a sharp voice interrupted my thoughts. I jumped in shock before fumbling for the lock screen button. "What? Oh, nothing. Sorry. Was the light distracting you?" I asked before realising that we had arrived at my house. Just my house, not my home. "No. In case you haven't noticed we are outside of your house. Now, what was that?" he asked, a little more harshly this time. What gave him the right to ask these questions? I thought, the anger inside me brewing.

"I said it was nothing" I said monotonously.

"Why are you lying to me Y/N?" he asked. Annoyance drenched his voice. A tear broke free again only this time I didn't care if he saw it. "Who was that and what did they mean?". I was so angry. How fucking dare he look over my shoulder. How dare he read my texts and how dare he demand me answer him when it had nothing to do with him at all.

"I can't believe this"

"What?"

"You. How fucking dare you" I spat out as I frantically gathered my things, unbuckling my seatbelt and opening the car door. "My texts have nothing to do with you. Who I text has nothing to do with you. My life has nothing do do with you. How dare you demand answers over something that has nothing to do with you. In case you haven't noticed, you are my teacher, I am your student. I am none of your concern" I got out of the car. "Thanks for the ride Dr". Venom laced my tongue. His face broke my heart but I was too angry at the time to care. I don't think I was angry at him. I think my anger just came out around him because I felt I was safe to show emotion. I slammed the car door and turned my back on him, running towards my front porch, knowing he was watching, making sure I was safe. But I was not looking back at him once. I knew it could have been the last time I'd ever see him. I should have stared at him longer.

Broken bone after broken bone. It started when I was 9 and had continued ever since. He was two years older and a lot stronger. I should be used to this pain, I should be used to the rape, I should be used to the bruises and I should be used to the names. I tell everyone I'm fine but when I am alone I cry. I cut myself within an inch of my life. I overdose on pills and lay in the bath hoping to pass out and drown. I tie a noose round my neck and dare myself to jump. It never works. Then I bandage it up, plaster on a smile and act like I'm okay.

I closed the door behind me entering quietly, willing him to be in his bedroom on a game or something, Hoping he'd be unable to hear me whilst I ran up the stairs and lock my door. I almost made it. Almost. But he stood tall in front of me, blocking me from my safety.

He left me alone at 2am, leaving to go on some drug fuelled party bender. The black fuzzes invaded my eyes, my ears screeching. Everywhere I looked they clouded my vision. I was too weak to do anything. It was a mix of not eating, my emotions building up, and the abuse I had suffered. Maybe it was time to give up? Was this supposed to be the end? Was this all that my life was to be? Blood dripped from my nose. I crawled towards my en-suite.

Sitting inside the walk in shower not even bothering to take off my long sweatshirt, I reached up, turning it on. The hot water stung my skin. It burned but it felt good. Maybe I could burn away his touch... My shaky hand reached for the Stanley knife I kept in there. I didn't have to hide it. I had no one checking up on me - no one that would notice. The sharp blade indented my wrist as I held it in place. I didn't feel fearful. I've tumbled down this hole many times before.

I pushed down hard, the blade cutting in deep, blood trickled down my arm. I watched as the thing that reminded me I was still living washed down the drain. I closed my eyes leaning my head against the shower wall. My phone sat, smashed up, on the floor near me. I really needed to apologise for what I've done, I thought. Maybe it was just my brain clinging onto life. A small, subconscious, part of me that still had hope.I don't know. Opening up my texts I typed,

'I'm sorry Spence. I shouldn't have had a go at you like that. It wasn't your fault. I'm having a hard time... I'm sorry, love you. Don't worry, I won't be around soon'

I typed. I didn't dare press send. The small voice in my brain comforted me. 'What would it matter. It's 4am, You'll be gone by the time he sees it anyway, it said. I gulped, hitting send, I placed my phone back on the floor. I felt dizzy and sick. I suppose it was due to the low blood sugars. My vision darkened and clouded again. I was tired. I pressed my head against the wall and closed my eyes allowing the darkness to consume me as my phone vibrated frantically on the floor. 

[ludicinm-achieved]

Meet the current heir of the Daichi Family

Name: Takeo Daichi

Age: 63

Height: 190cm/6'3"

Weight: 90kg/198 lbs

Birthday: 21. May

Gender: Cismale

Sexuality: Heteroromantic/Bisexual

Profession: aristocrat, rest unknown by public

Relationship status: single (verse depending)

Brothers: one other, Masaru Daichi

Children: 3 daughters, Kano Kei (unknown)

Current living: Tokyo

Fc: Lucaon from Royal servant

Backstory

Takeo was born as the youngest son of the noble family. Not knowing what business the family had and had all in all a great childhood without any problems until his older brother(15) got ill an in the end died from cancer. 

However, one bad event was coming after the last one. Only few month later his parents died in a car accident. Nobody even really caring for it since no funeral accrued.

It was rather a shame for Takeo when his brother who was still alive turned his back to the family after their parents died in a car accident. The brother gave up to be the current heir of the family even when he was the oldest one out of the three males. However, Takeo waked up in the morning and noticed a letter on his bed from his brother where he was giving him the title as the heir.

Takeo was marrying a daughter from a religious and rich family that in the end only wanted that they marry because of certain reasons. The daughter was more or less not interested in the religion and mostly avoided to go to church or doing other religious stuff. Like they wanted to get rid of her with knowing that she actually could still have a good life but rip her

Tbh Takeo only began to hate people because of his older brother who left him while he needed him the most. Of course, he cared for him when Takeo was still 17 but in the end he was left alone few days after he got 18 as if he planned that with that age he would be ready to take the shame and be the next heir. In the end it was hurting him too much some he was shy and afraid to meet people he didn’t know. Always being the one who watched them but… Because of the feeling that he got deceived by his own brother when Takeo only had him left was triggering his hate.

Now

Takeo is a single man who has four daughters that married onto different families and never will see him again since he began to hate humans since he felt as if his family slowly was abandoning him. Having still the hate for his brother who was leaving him alone in such a cruel world.

Also, Takeo is a hardcore and heartless sadist who doesn’t care if you die or not when you displease him am he takes his anger out on you. 

The family business and special traits

The family business is mostly like an business that provides hitmans/bodyguards (trained by the family) to any kind of customers with enough money (mostly for those who are well known in the underground live). However, the family is a neutral party there.

The animals that are present in the family crest of the Daichi family are an owl and an eagle but the owl stands on the eagle that lays on the on the back while the owl killed the half living eagle.

Every heir has the same tattoo on the head. The tattoo on his eye is a wing of an owl. The part of an half owl is covered by his hair.

In some way, Takeo is also desperated since he has no son that could be the next heir and continue everything the family stands for. Takeo mostly searchs the fault by himself since he only had daughters with his past wife. Also it pains him that the only way to get a heir is with another arranged marriage because his pride (or what he considers as the family pride) would be hurt.

Takeo Reincarnation!AU (ship exclusive with @morteem)

After a successful assassination from Hiiragi, who got the job finally to kill Takeo and his brother, he got reincarnated thanks to whatever reason. Takeo was born into a not rich, not poor family who only had him as a son but also had a little daughter after Takeo got 8. His family is always out of the house when he is home. He needing to take care of his younger sister while literally wanting only his free time from her.

Takeo remained like his old self. A sociopath and misanthrope but he tries his best to hide it, mostly fails. All in all, he skips classes often during his Highschool time while rumours are spread about him. The most persistent is the one that he is completely gay. Only few fragments of his former life comes back to him when he has weird dreams.

Takeo in his reincarnation AU is mostly only in school when he has chemistry, physics and sport lesson. During the other lessons he skip school until he found some other lesson and the topic interesting. For example cloning in biology.

One of his teachers is Cooney.

Triva:

Takeo has one big tattoo that extends from his left eye up to his hair and from there it goes over the half of his head but is hidden by his hair. This is actually the only hint to know that this person who had the tattoo is the heir of the Daichi family. Former heirs who didn't want to be one get killed or they must remove the tattoo immediately and leave the family. This happens to Takeo’s brother tho.

Takeo is far more chill with human animal hybrids since animals are rather loved by him. So most of the time he has nekos and other hybrids as servants in his smaller mansion.

All of his servants need to wear a dog collar either a leather leash because he has no reason why not? Also he abuse, assult his servants sexually while kind of blackmailing them after his wife died.

Takeo just loves animals. However, he only likes the animals that he trust. Wanting them to jeep him company 24/7 in his mansion. But when a unknown animal just sneaks for example in, Takeo would act totally shy until the animal gains his trust

The Daichi family and their business actually exists since the heian time (794-1185). Their business is similar with some changes to the older one.

Tbh, Takeo owns an old cathedral somewhere in Europe that he got from his father in law when he was marrying. Unfortunately he doesn’t exactly know where the cathedral is but he had formulas that it belongs to him.

Takeo will grow softer and softer around his lover and even being clingy towards them in public since he wants to prevent that he and his lover will have troubles only because of hating to be around people and not able to interact with them not violent.

However, his 63 years old dick isn’t really willing to stand up straight every time. *coughs coughs* by shiro’s ( @morteem ) boobs it works *coughs* So yeah. He needs pills for that and he uses them often bc… His.. abusive behaviour towards his servants *coughs*

#{There he is} #Muse 3 #{Also Tag drop here} #✴In the shadows they lurk✴ ic. #✴You don't know anything✴ headcanon #✴Don't forget who I am✴ self #✴Keep it to yourself✴ wants #✴When the snowflakes fall✴ aesthetic

[sleepymayonaise]

Reasons I stopped watching Teenwolf that have nothing to do with Sterek

Its hard to get past the cringy feeling you get when someone disses a show for not making their ship cannon- I get that. And even when we get past the blantant queer bating, its hard to understand what 'problematic' really means when we're discussion a show on MTV. So here are just a few of the reasons so many people have given up on Jeff Davis and his creation. ■ Queer Bating Completely disregarding Sterek, this is a huge issue within the show. We'll start with Stiles. Throughout the show Stiles' sexuality is often joked about. In one episode he tells his father he's gay to get out of trouble, and in another, when the token gay character of the season offers to take his virginity, Stiles is flattered and actually considers it. On several occasions Jeff Davis has said that these points in the show have had the purpose of hinting at Stiles' Bisexuality. This should be a good thing, but despite the so-called "hints" we get, there is never a single instance of any kind of obvious and confirmed attraction between Stiles and another man. We can speculate and hope, but the show never gives into it outright. A person of course does not ever have to be in a relationship with someone of the same gender to identify as Bi, but when we're talking about representation on a major TV show, its important that at least some sort of 'proof' is shown. Maybe in the future we can have a bi character who never canonically dates someone of the same gender and still have it be representation, but we're not there yet. Rather than anything involving Stiles (a main character of the show) Jeff Davis oftwn substitutes queer representation with relatively unimportant side characters. Moreover the show has been know to make the main token poc and queer person the same person on the show. Danny, for instance, had no real plot importance as a character except for being gay and not white. The show advertises a diverse lgbt cast, but like most shows, does not deliver. ■ The strong female charachter The strong female character does not exist on this show. In fact every instance of a "strong" female has been used as a romantic interest in the plot, whose sole purpose is to give their male counterpart something to fight for, idolize, and have sex with. We'll start with Allison. Allison was a kick ass, arrow shooting, rebellious teenage girl. Unfortunately, she was also the love interest of the main character. Given that her family presented issues for the main character, she became the juliet in a cliche Shakespearean situation. But a girl can still be badass with a boyfriend right? Of course! However, as badass as Allison may have been, her character was used consistently as a romantic interest or problem and nothing else. She was Scott's girlfriend, and then Matt's love interest, and then Jackson's love interest, and then Issacs girlfriend, and then she was dead. A girl can be in a relationship on a show, sure, but when her character is only ever used as a love interest to serve the plot, it becomes demeaning and disheartening. Next, Lydia. With Lydia we find are biggest issues. Lydia Martin is an actual genius. She's beautiful and popular, funny when she wants to be, assertive when she needs to be, and her brain is a stunning work of art. But she also has flaws! She can be shallow and mean spirited, she's obsessed with her public image, and known to have fits of jealousy. She's a fantastically well rounded character that is utterly wasted the same way Allison is. Lydia spends half of her time on the show either suffering from severe mental issues (which we will address later) or hunting for a boyfriend. She's better off than Allison was as a character, but when it comes right down to it she's just another love interest to cause problems for the main male charachters. What's really unfortunate, is the stydia situation. There's nothing wrong with the ship, don't get me wrong, but there are some serious issues with its realization. Jeff Davis actually did a pretty cool thing when he made Stiles and Lydia just friends. He took a boy who was idolizing and sexualizing a girl that was uninterested, let him understand who she really was, and accept her into his life as a friend. Its so rare that we have an instance in the media of a straight boy and girl just remaining friends in the media, especially when their is initial interest from the male protag. It showed rejection from the female counterpart and acceptance from the male side and that's huge. Stydia of course ruins that by making a short appearance, and whats worse, especially for Stydia fans, is that the ship is short lived, and ends up only being used as bait for views. I don't need to go into kira, malia, and erica, because the same shit goes down with them. ■ Mental Health I'll make this part short, because theres so many issues with this particular aspect of the show, I cound go on for years. One of the biggest issues though, is eichen house, a psych facility that is consistently used to scare voews. This place grossly stereotypes non-neuro typicals as violent and unhinged. Another huge issue in the presentation of mental health on this show, is that the charachters are endlessly traumatized but never get resolution. PTSD and anxiety are practically used as quirky charachter flaws half of the time. ■ Derek Hale This is personally my biggest issue with the show. Derek Hale, like many of the characters (except for the main one of course) is very well rounded. He makes mistakes, he evolves as a person, he does his best. Its no wonder that he's so loved by the fandom. I personally stopped watching when Hoechlin left. He wasn't a deal breaker, but I was at my tipping point. The problem with Derek Hale starts with his tragic past, which involves him being seriously emotionally abused and the victim of statitory rape. His abuser then is used as a plot point. She terrorizes him and on occasion sexually assults him, and this is never addressed. Kate is made out to be a bad person, but when Derek is being sexually assaulted he's shirtless, hairless, and oiled up. Its filmed to be sexually enticing for the audience, which is seriously disgusting. Kate is basically a sexual predator that keeps being brought back to hurt Derek. Whats worse is that the emotional trauma that results from sexual assault is literally never addressed, and Derek is consistently used as a sex object. In another season, the big bad of the show is revealed to have been disguising itself as a woman named Jennifer Blake. Jennifer blake, aka the big bad, is used as Derek's love interest, and they have sex on multiple occasions. Its later revealed that Blake seduced Derek with magic. What the writers of this show don't appear to comprehend, is that if someone is coerced into sex they wouldn't otherwise have with supernatural means, that's rape. So Derek gets raped a couple more times, and its all hunkydory because the sex scenes were hot l, am I right Jeff? (Also, Questionable consent concerning sex appears on show way more than acceptable. In example, when Stiles loses his virginity, he's partially posessed by a demon, and the girl he has sex with isn't all there mentally either) Derek is consistently used and abused on this show. He is beaten down and taken from, manipulated, ridiculed, and oversexualized over and over. His entrance to the show involves the loss of his sister just a few short years after the loss of his entire family, which he is led to beleive was at his own hands. His rapist and abusers are never fully brought to justice, and the serious emotional damage inflicted on him is never addressed. Rather its ignored for the sake of continuing to use him a sexual object. Below are some sources to back the claims I've made in this post as well as articles that better articulate what I've tried to explain . If you have anything to add regarding the issues with the show, please feel free to add on. https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.advocate.com/commentary/2014/09/17/op-ed-trouble-teen-wolf%3famp http://www.teen.com/2017/03/12/television/teen-television-shows-queerbaiting-gay-bait-audiences/#2 https://www.google.com/amp/amp.dailydot.com/upstream/teen-wolf-dead-female-characters-chart/ http://www.tv.com/news/teen-wolf-has-a-problem-regarding-female-characters-and-we-need-to-stop-ignoring-it-143956767458/ https://www.google.com/amp/s/ladygeekgirl.wordpress.com/2014/04/15/trigger-warning-kate-argent/amp/

#teen wolf #tw #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek #problematic #problems with teen wolf #problems in the media #rape #abuse #femminism #mental health #problematic fave #queerbaiting #lgbt #mysogyny #oversexualization #opinion

[peachrings-and-bluebells]

What Are You To Me? || Part 3

Hoseok // Soulmate AU

Part 1 ... Part 2

Word Count: 2,340

Warning(s): Mild language (Cursing)

Hoseok’s POV

As the days and weeks went by, Hoseok found himself thinking of his Enemy constantly, much to his confusion. Hate was a strong feeling, just as strong as love, and perhaps that was why Hoseok’s mind continually wandered to the person he supposedly hated. But there was no animosity in his thoughts, only an ever-present discomfort that something was not quite right in the world. It was beginning to show, it seemed, since his friends kept sending him concerned looks every time he thought about his Enemy and her Soulmate; he found himself frowning heavily more often, too.

It wasn’t until one group dinner where Taehyung finally brought his Soulmate, Aera, to be introduced to them that Hoseok realized what it could all possibly mean.

“And Hoseok hyung has been weirdly grumpy for weeks now! It doesn’t make sense - Enemies don’t make you feel grumpy!” Taehyung cried during his monologue about how his favorite hyung (he loved all his hyungs, of course, but Hoseok was Hoseok) barely ever paid him attention anymore after the Bump and Run.

“He’s right,” Yoongi agreed, “you’ve been down a lot more recently. What’s been eating you, Seokseok?”

Hoseok would usually fake gag at the endearment, but tonight he just heaved a great sigh and slumped down in his seat. “I don’t even know! I just feel so uncomfortable all the time!” he wailed. Namjoon, never the best at comforting, awkwardly patted Hoseok’s back.

“Uncomfortable?” wondered Jin. “That’s definitely not a normal reaction to meeting your Enemy. And it wouldn’t last so long either unless you see them constantly…”

Yoongi and Namjoon, the only two so far (aside from Hoseok) to have met their Enemies (Enemy, actually, because it was the same person - it was how they became closer, funnily enough) nodded.

“Usually, seeing or thinking about your Enemy causes you to get angry or upset. How much depends on whatever past history you have with them,” said Namjoon.

“You remember what happened that time we had to deal with that asshole Jonggoo?” growled Yoongi. Everyone else except Aera winced; that was not a good week for the group, what with getting Namjoon to stop moping and keeping Yoongi from trying to find stuff for blackmail. And, apparently, Jonggoo’s Enemy tattoo was neither of their names so he really was just a dick who had nothing better to do in his life than infuriate people. Point was, people tried not to think about their Enemies at all if possible.

“But still!” Hoseok insisted. “She said - almost screamed, really - that we were Enemies. And she was with this big buff guy already and he was staring me down like he was her boyfriend which he probably was ‘cause it looked like they had just finished a lunch date so they’re probably Soulmates which has to mean that she and I are really Enemies…”

The table was silent following their friend’s word vomit. No one was sure what to say and decided to let Hoseok cool down a bit. A few deep breaths later, he sat up straight again and calmly asked a wide-eyed Jungkook, “Pass the japchae?”

The rest of the evening was spent getting to know Aera (to whom Hoseok apologized for giving a rather unfortunate first impression) until Taehyung said he was going to escort her home. Hoseok left not long after, but not before Jimin gave him a tight hug.

Over the following week, Hoseok kept thinking about what the others had told him about usual Enemy interactions. He wasn’t feeling angry or upset in any way when he thought about his Enemy, there was a strange niggling half-thought floating around in his mind, and he was thinking about her much, much more than one would usually think about their Enemy.

But why was he uncomfortable thinking about his Enemy? From what he remembered, and from Jin’s account, she hadn’t done anything that Hoseok would find uncomfortable. And now that he thought about it more, he wasn’t feeling the kind of discomfort that came after something like having your personal space invaded or having strangers on the street look at you weirdly because you were being yelled at by your Enemy. No… it was a feeling closer to nausea, or maybe trying to breathe in thin air.

When Hoseok called his sister for her opinion, she asked, “Do you feel that way when you think of her?”

“No…” he answered slowly.

“Then what about if you think about her boyfriend?” she prompted.

Hoseok’s lip curled in disgust when a memory of the man’s vaguely smug face flitted through his mind. When he didn’t answer his sister right away, she made a sound of realization and added, “What if you think of them together?”

“Definitely feeling a bit nauseous, noona,” Hoseok replied as he began to nervously tap his foot. His sister chuckled softly, and just as he was about to complain about her lack of seriousness, she spoke.

“You’re so silly, Hoseok… Don’t you see? She can’t be your Enemy if you don’t hate her, if you don’t feel any sort of negative emotions about her alone. I don’t think you could anyway, you’re too kind for that. No, no, you just don’t like her boyfriend.”

“But I don’t even know that guy!” Hoseok exclaimed. “And he didn’t do anything bad to me, so what reason do I have to dislike him?”

“I think you’re jealous.” Hoseok swore he heard a faint smirk in his sister’s voice. “You have her name, and she has yours. Soulmates or Enemies? It doesn’t seem like she’s your Enemy, so that leaves you with…”

“Soulmate,” breathed Hoseok. His mind whirled with this realization. It was possible - entirely possible - that she had mixed the two up. His heart thumped in his chest as a sudden mix of warm and cold spread throughout his body from opposite sides, starting from his wrists. He looked down to see the only name he had - his Soulmate’s - was taking on hints of color around the edges of the solid black characters. His other, empty wrist, meanwhile, had a strikethrough where a name would have been if he had an Enemy.

“Hoseok, you okay? You’ve gone really quiet,” said his sister; Hoseok had forgotten she was still on the line.

He took a deep breath and replied, “Yeah, I’m fine, noona. I just… My tattoo just - it has colors now…”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from his sister. “You lucky kid. But I should have known. You better tell her soon, or it’s just going to be a big mess - especially since she’s dating someone who isn’t her Soulmate.” Some voices in the background suddenly called for her and she groaned. “Damn, I forgot… Hoseok, I’ve really gotta go right now, but call me tomorrow if you need to, okay? Bye, little bro.”

The siblings hung up and Hoseok stared at his wrist. As much as he wanted to run through the city in hopes of bumping into his Soulmate and showing her his tattoo, he couldn’t. She had seemed to really like the guy, so suddenly appearing to shove his wrist in her face would do nothing more than upset her. No, it was probably best to wait for now and hope that they would meet again and have a calm conversation where he could bring the Soulmate mix-up thing up.

He could wait, Hoseok was sure. Soulmates usually found each other and with his colored tattoo... they were rare, and while unconfirmed, seemed to belong to Soulmates who developed unusually strong bonds.

Hoseok traced the lines of the name on his wrist with his eyes, and whispered to himself, “My Soulmate… I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait until the day you realize that I’m yours.”

Your POV

The first few weeks of dating and getting to know each other were fun. There was the spontaneous trip to the beach that day that was abnormally warm for early spring, and the day at the arcade where the two of you competitively butted heads over childhood games. You made Sangin lunch one day (it was a tad too salty for him) and he returned the favor a week later (much too spicy for you, unfortunately), and while that hasn’t happened again for fear of assulted taste buds, you two had a good laugh over it every once in a while.

You and Sangin, busy as you both were, could only spend time together one day a week, two at most. After two months, an agreement was made to try to go out more often, so dinners at each other’s apartments became more common. Those dates were nice, too. And that was all they were, you realized as your relationship approached its fourth month. Sure, there was hours and hours of pleasant conversation and a good amount of cuddling and quite a bit of kissing, but you felt almost... stagnant.

And much like the other times in your life when you had started to feel like you were trapped in a standstill, you withdrew in an attempt to figure out how and why such a thing happened. Sangin’s concern, while appreciated at first, soon began to grate on your nerves when he never seemed to understand why you were, in his words, acting like such a recluse when the weather was perfect for going out and having fun together.

To make matters worse, on some of the days when you weren’t feeling down and tense, you would sometimes spot your Enemy while he was out with his friends. Hoseok never approached you and only threw some indecipherable glances your way, but seeing him bothered you enough to make you uneasy. You tried talking to Sangin about it once, but his response didn’t help.

“Why are you so affected by the man? You bumped into each other once and nothing has happened since,” said Sangin offhandedly.

“Well, yeah, but whenever I see him, everything’s just telling me something’s wrong, so of course I’m bothered!” you nearly yelled in return.

Sangin rolled his eyes and scoffed quietly. “Wow, way to be vague - everything is telling you that something is wrong. Are your Spidey senses tingling? Does your Enemy look like he’s about to shoot killer light rays at you?”

Realizing that your boyfriend was not going to be helpful in the least, you shut up about the discomfort you felt whenever Hoseok was in your line of sight. (He sometimes wandered into your thoughts as well, but you were quick to shove him out of your head. No need to stress yourself out even more.) Unfortunately, your attempts at not acknowledging your Enemy were backfiring as the memory of his unhappy and tired expression from about two months ago kept sneaking its way past your mental blocks and, oddly, made you feel guilty.

The first big fight came a week before your six month anniversary.

If you were to be honest, you weren’t surprised it happened - it had been building up for a while now, like constantly increasing pressure in a container with no valves to relieve it. It certainly didn’t help that both of you had a tendency to become irritable quickly when exhausted, and the past week had been hectic to say the least.

“Can you just-? Will you just tell me what’s bothering you so much?” asked Sangin during a dinner at your apartment. “You’ve been quiet and gloomy for months now! And you’ve given me no reason for it at all!”

You pursed your lips a bit before taking a small bite of food. You took your time to chew and swallow the food, trying to give yourself time to come up with a civil answer (and not a rant with a slew of curse words thrown in about how you had given a reason).

“I have told you,” you started. “I mentioned it a few times before it became obvious that you didn’t take me seriously.”

Sangin raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You mean that completely vague ‘something’s wrong and I’m sure it’s because of my Enemy that I interacted with all of one time’ thing? That’s what’s been bothering you for months now?”

“Yes! Why is that so hard to believe?” you cried, quickly giving up your attempt to stay calm. “For fuck’s sake, we have tattoos from some mystic whatever telling us who our Soulmates and Enemies are, and you can’t believe that I have a feeling that something’s off?”

“How am I supposed to help you then?” Sangin asked incredulously. “Do you want me to come up with every possible idea under the sun until you realize what’s wrong?”

You crossed your arms and fix him with a hard stare. “It’d be more than what you’ve done so far to help me.”

“That’s a ridiculous way to figure things out! We’d get nowhere, and we’d just be wasting a shit-ton of time!” he argued. “Besides, why are you even thinking of your Enemy? I’m your Soulmate, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know - have you been acting like a Soulmate lately? Maybe you’re onto some-”

“You know what? I just - I think I need to be away from you for a while,” Sangin said tiredly, interrupting you. “At least until you calm down and start thinking logically.” He quickly gathered his things and walked out without a single glance back at you, allowing the door to slam closed behind him.

You slumped down in your seat in exhaustion, internally berating yourself for spouting out whatever nonsense came to your head. As you replay the argument in your head, you stared listlessly in front of you and thought people must not like thinking about their initial struggles with Soulmates. That’s probably why no one had ever said anything.

A few minutes later (it felt like an hour to you, but the clock on the wall disagreed), you picked yourself up and started clearing away the remains of your unfinished dinner.

Things would fall into place soon, you were sure of it.

Part 4

#bangtan #jhope #peachbellwrites #bts au #hello readers i have finally returned to finish this darn thing #it's been almost a year since part 2 omg

[dadzawa-adopt-dabi]

Discord prompt pain lvl 7

He didn’t have a heat for a couple months and his pills made him sick, so Dabi stops taking them. Magne looks at him with worry when he’s sick in the morning and he can't reassure her. Tell her that he can’t be pregnant, he’s always been too thin, too sick but since he joined the League that’s changed. It’s a possibility now, and the tests he buys confirm its more than a possibility suddenly. It’s a reality. The entire league is in an uproar, fussing around him and checking on him constantly. He didn’t know how he felt about it, it made him feel like he was made of glass. Like they were waiting for him to break. Packs did this though, he could get used to it eventually. Used to Jin making coffee and handing him a cup in the mornings. Shigaraki constantly scenting him and dragging him into games. He leaves a lot, Sako and Kuroguri freakout everytime and worriedly call his phone, until he starts leaving a message with someone that he’s going to be back. He gets bigger and rounder and then one night, before he can’t hide it any longer, Dabi leaves the base. He can figure out what to do later, after he’s had her and isn’t worried about the league's reaction. If the baby lives. He’s always had poor health, he’s felt her move on and off. Isn’t she supposed to move more than that? Isn’t he supposed to be bigger? Has his scent changed yet? The questions plague Dabi as he shoves himself into one of his old hiding holes, nicer side of town with nasty people. He just needs to keep quiet. He'll lose the baby or give birth and drop her off. Or die during it, he doesn't know. Dabi doesn't have any options, he ran out of them a long time ago and every choice he’s made sense has given him less and less. He makes it a few more weeks and wants to cry when he feels the cramping start. On a makeshift nest in the corner, sobbing as he realizes he waited too long. He doesn't have any money, any help he was going to call the league tomorrow. He was, he really was but now he cant find his phone and it’s probably dead and this is going to hurt so much. Memories of his mother screaming echo in his mind and he sobs, this isn’t like that. Not yet. He remembers when Enji hit her too hard, the unnamed baby that took hours of her screaming and begging for a hospital as Enji locked her in the bathroom. He’d been a preteen and unable to do anything but stare in horror. A cramp rips through him and he lets out a sob as he rolls himself on to his stomach.

Looking for his phone in the nest. It’s not there and he whines as he feels his muscles ripple, starting to bleed all over it. He’s more scared than hurt so he manages to stand, distressed, and panicking as he runs through the abandoned apartment as fast as he can. There’s an old metal bowl and a rag he finds in the kitchen, under the sink. He fills the sink with water and shakes. He knows there’s going to be blood, that's what the bowl and rag are for. All the towels and pillows he could find earlier are in his nest and he shucks off his coat he’d had on for warmth and grabs everything back to the nest. He never had one of these before the league, hadn’t needed or wanted one. Then he was in a home and the urge had struck, getting worse when he met Hawks. When makeout and late nights stayed make outs. He doesn't know what to do now that he needs one. Can’t pick up and leave because his pack needs him, because he wants hawks, because he’s having a fucking baby.

The cramps grow worse with all his walking around and panic, Dabi realizes he’s been whining the entire time and strips his shirt off at the same time as he steps out of his pants. Balling the shirt up and shoving it in his mouth as he lays back in the bare nest. It smells wrong, Dabi’s scared and everything below his waist is on fire, the pain balling in his pelvis and wrapping around his waist to travel up his spine. His pecs ache worse than they have the week he’s stayed here. Getting ready for a baby who’s going to be dead, they’re going to be dead. Dabi knows it in his soul, he hasn’t felt a kick in weeks, it’s too early, he thinks anyways, he knots the shirt behind his head. He’s on his side, sobbing as each pulse, every push his body demands he gives hurts him. His nails dig deep grooves into his arms and scars as he pushes. Crying and whining through the makeshift gag he’s given himself. His vision whites out in pain several times as he begs for relief, for comfort, help. He won’t get any he already knows. Probably won’t even let him hold his dead baby’s body as they drag him to jail, to die. His quirk starts smoking his scar seams and he knows he can’t do this alone. He can’t , he’s going to burn everything up and the league will never know what happened, his father will never be exposed and he screams in pain. Unlatching one of his hands to pull a pair of quirk handcuffs out from under it, bartered for after he’d burnt down a shelter years ago. Nightmares making it impossible to stay in them anymore and unable to sleep without risk of killing everything around him. He remembered vividly drinking the soda the hero gave him, not knowing what it would do at the time, hours spent on his back in exchange for the expensive necessary things he hates. He can’t touch them without wanting to vomit, the memory slams him in the face every time, but he can’t be found right now. He’s too vulnerable, unable to defend himself, not knowing what will happen besides pain that ruins him as the blood and fluids between his legs gush faster. He’s ruined for anyone after this, mentally and physically he can’t do this. The cuffs lock as omega noises begging for help and distress pour out, muffled by the shirt. He wishes he’d experienced what Keigo gave him at least one more time before he’d done this to himself. Not even keigo will want him again with how wide he can feel his muscles stretching. The blood starts to slow as pain white his vision out for longer. He reaches a hand down to his hole where the baby is coming out and bites the t-shirt, inserting his fingers and wiggling them as deep as they can go as he screams in pain. He’s stretched wide and has no problem inserting them, he touches something and lets out a wail as he withdraws his hand, making sure his coat is gathered under him to catch them. The next contraction makes him throw his head back and squirm, screaming even after the gag is misplaced enough that it falls off. He’s switched on to his back now and his arms are curled near his chest as his legs twitch and kick, but there’s no escaping this pain. He hears a cuss and whips his head around, pleading noises freezing as he sees white and purple through his blurred tear filled vision. He snaps his jaw and gives a deep growl that gets cut off with another scream, he can’t stop pushing and he’s barely made any progress, that he can feel anyways, through the burning mind wiping pain.

“Get the fuck out, hel-” he manages to scream and snarl at her, the beg for help escaping without his permission. The female alpha, that combined with her color scheme and dark skin tone is enough to give him a very clear idea of who has found him. A hero, Miruko, who croons reassurance and takes a step forward as she is muttering something he can't hear, low and fast.

“Leave, fucking bitch. Going to arrest me in labor? Leave me alo-” he screams as the baby moves just that little bit further. Whimpering and unable to even sob afterwards. Rumi leaves, ducking outside the broken door and away from Dabi finally, leaving him free to wail and cry. His hands tremble as he brings them up to his mouth, locked together.

He bites down and pushes with the next contraction, eyes closed and letting his head drop into the nest. He’s just tired and it hurts, he wants it to be done with. Dabi cries as he waits for it to be done, for labor to be over so he cleans up his mess. Go home and crawl into his actual nest, the one that’s small and plush and smells like the league with just the hints of keigo starting to come through. Everything feels wrong and he lets tears pour out of his eyes as his brain keeps giving him the feeling of his baby moving, struggling as hard as he is. He knows it’s not real, it’s just brain signals getting crossed and trying to get him through this. He hasn’t felt any movement in weeks and this is just the last straw. He bears down again, nothing to hold onto and ground him as he whimpers insistently, hating the noise leaving him, blood filling his mouth and making him choke on what he resolves to be his last attempt, he can feel the head stretching and tearing him. He hopes Rumi actually left, he doesn't have the strength to fight off an alpha, won’t even be able to move for several days after this. That’s if his pathetic body can get it together long enough to fight off an infection, at the very least long enough to get him home after he rests. Dabi’s never doing this again, even if by some miracle someone did want him.

part 2 [x]

#omegaverse #omegadabi #alphakeigo #alpharumi #rumi usagiyama #takami keigo #dabi #LoV as family #childbirth #mpreg #labor #hotwings #dabihawks #past assult #past sex work hints #thedarkonewrites #angst #bnha #mha #miscarriage thoughts #mention of misscarriage #past abuse

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Lasting Rivalries.

Word Count: 4.0k

Written for an anonymous commissioner.

Synopsis: Izuku loves you, but he doesn’t like Katsuki very much. It’s just a shame he can’t separate one feeling from the other. 

TW: Kidnapping, Imprisonment, Mentions of Past Assult, Violence, Non-Graphic Injury, Mentions of Drug Use, Implied Death, Unhealthy Relationships, and Delusional Mindsets.

[Part Two]

Within the day, Izuku’s base was abandoned.

It was a temporary measure, he’d explained, just a precaution to make sure Katsuki and all his nasty little friends couldn’t find their way back to his hide-out, which turned out to be a bunker tucked away underneath one of the many discarded office buildings on the edge of the city. It was almost impressive, how with only a wave of his hand, all of his lackeys uprooted themselves from the home they seemed so accustomed to with little more than an exasperated sigh or a remorseful shake of their head. If Izuku had been disappointed, you weren’t able to tell. Despite the rush, the anxiety that came with releasing a scorned hostage, he was all smiles, all gentle touches and soft tones and sentiments so patronizing, you began to think you’d almost prefer his anger.

He knew you were quirkless, now, and there wasn’t an observant civilian in the city who didn’t know about Izuku’s troubled past, of his fondness of those born without a gift. You couldn’t say you blamed him, not if you approached it objectively. It hadn’t been an easy burden to carry, growing up, but you weren’t growing up anymore, you weren’t a kid waiting for a quirk that’d never come or a teenager, balancing the embarrassment of daily life with the humiliation that came with being so undeniably different than your peers, and in such an unhidable way, too. You weren’t over it, but you were past it. You still remembered all those awful, disgusting things people said to you, but you didn’t let them keep you awake at night. You were dealing with it. You were moving forward.

Izuku wasn’t.

He wasn’t even trying to.

But, it wasn’t your place to call him out, not when it came to that, not when you were stuck inside your new prison - someplace just as confining, but only half as tolerable. Technically, it was an improvement. After abandoning his bunker, Izuku’s followers had dispersed, and along with a handful of his closest companions, you’d been taken to a seedy bar on the worse side of town, locked inside of a small, windowless room on the second story and forced to watch as Izuku threw away the key. There were no cards, this time, no unbais locks with a dozen different work-around, just a deadbolt on your door and four-digit code you’d never get the chance to guess at. He wasn’t taking any risks, this time, he wasn’t giving you the smallest opportunity to jump at. It was a new sense of determination that’d come in the form of a shackle around your ankle and a bottle of white, circular pills Izuku forced down your throat every time he took you beyond the confines beyond your four walls. Ones that made you dizzy, weak, sedated. A measure that couldn’t be for your own safety, despite Izuku’s attempts to insist otherwise.

He seemed busier, too, than he was before your abduction. It might just be because you didn’t have anything else to focus on. As far as you could tell, Izuku only let his inner circle know where you were being held, and they still seemed hesitant to do more than deliver your meals or offer a few passive niceties when they were forced to interact with you. Saying your company was limited would’ve been an understatement. He tried to make it up to you with books and gifts and outfits that were more for his enjoyment than yours, but you were lucky if his visits lasted longer than an hour. His wasn’t the face you’d prefer to see on a daily basis, but it was still worrying to have your captor be too preoccupied to serve as a real threat. And when he did make time for you…

Izuku liked to have something to hold on to. He liked to be able to squeeze, and pull, and bruise, even if the pain he caused was more of a byproduct than a goal. His intentions didn’t matter, though, not when his fingertips dug into your thighs, not when his teeth sank into your neck, not when he got a little too excited and only stopped because your complaints had gotten frantic enough to be annoying. You’d learned quickly that Izuku was an affectionate man, but you’d learned even faster that you never wanted to be the one that affection was directed towards. Having him go days at a time without checking in with you was concerning, but having him next to you was unbearable. You tried not to think about it, when you could help it.

Luckily, today was a case of the former, when Izuku had too much on his mind and too little time to sort it out to bother convincing you to love him back. He’d let himself into your room an hour ago, and yet, he hadn’t been able to do more than kiss your forehead and offer a muttered greeting before loosening his tie and setting to pacing, wandering back and forth through the cramped confines of your homey cage. It was starting to scare you. No, it was starting to terrify you. You’d passed the point of just being scared days ago.

You doubted he could say anything to comfort you, but you found yourself talking regardless. If only to fill the silence with something that wasn’t his constant, incoherent mumbling, really. “Something’s going on,” You started, trying to sound more confident than you’d ever be, around him. “Something’s going on, and you’re not telling me about it.”

His answer was automatic, the one he’d given you a thousand times over. “I’m taking care of it, darling.”

“Midoriya, please.” It was more of a plea than a request, an appeal to whatever love he might’ve had for you, whatever trust he might’ve had in you. You weren’t blind, you knew he didn’t think you were strong or capable or of any particular use beyond serving as a particularly high-maintenance ornament, but if he thought you were endearing enough to keep as a companion, he should’ve been able to treat you like a companion, too. “Right now, your safety is my safety. If someone’s going to break down that door and kill both of us…” You trailed off, forcing yourself to let out an airy, humorless laugh. “I should get to know who it’s going to be.”

For a moment, Izuku hesitated, but it was only for a moment. With a small sigh, the tension in his shoulder dissolved, and he took to rubbing the back of his neck, one in a never-ending line of nervous ticks. “It’s really nothing either of us can help,” He insisted, making a half-hearted attempt to break his concerned frown into a small smile. “A lot of my recruits were training to be heroes when I picked them up, did I ever tell you that? I got to most of them too early on for it to be useful, but a few have some experience. It makes it easier to tell with the other side’s planning something, not that they’d ever miss a chance to put on a good show.”

“And it’s been getting worse?” The sentiment left a bitter taste on your tongue. You never thought you’d speak a word against the hero industry, not so generally, but Izuku had a way of rubbing off on you, or the way you spoke, at least.

“It’s certainly busier than it should be,” He admitted, the words grumbled through grit teeth. “I’ve had to lie low, but that makes things difficult. There’s a hierarchy in this city, and people don’t tend to react well when the one on the throne goes into hiding. Weapon distributors aren’t getting their shipments on time, gangs aren’t keeping to their own territory, it’s all devolving into chaos, and all because those bastards can’t take a step back and let me tend to things.”

His hands were curling at his sides, now, his nails driving themselves into his bare palms with so much repressed ferocity, it almost looked painful. It was an impulsive thing to do, an act that’d play right into his delusional little fantasy, but that didn’t stop you from reaching out and taking him by the sleeve, pulling him towards your cot. Your chain rattled as you swung your legs over the side of your bed, but you tried to ignore it, biting the inside of your cheek and letting Izuku fall into place next to you. He didn’t try to resist, only going slack as his head lolled onto your shoulder.

Your next question came reluctantly, guiltily. You couldn’t be sure how long it’d been since you’d last seen Katsuki, but after a month came and went without the slightest hint of your boyfriend, your hopes had dampened, dimmed, turned into something much darker than you’d ever thought they would be. You still knew he’d come back for you. He had to come back, but you couldn’t know when he would. You couldn’t know how he might’ve changed, by the time he did.

You couldn’t know if he’d still be your Katsuki, by then.

“What about Bakugo?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Have you heard anything about him?”

With that, an almost sympathetic aire found its way to his tired expression. Somehow, he found just enough energy to reach up, running his finger through your hair as he drew you closer, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You went stiff, but you didn’t shove him away. You knew better than to reject Izuku so blatantly, by now. “You don’t have to worry about Kacchan. I let him get away, but I made sure he didn’t leave unscathed.” There was a pause, a hand finding its way to your hip. You fought not to recoil, and Izuku pretended not to notice. “He only picked up his patrol routes last week, and I’ve been keeping an eye on him. If he wants to get to you, he’ll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands.”

You wanted to ask again. You wanted to ask again, and again, and again until you ran out of breath and Izuku had to decide whether to gag you, starve you, or find a way to combine the two. It was a common choice to get stuck on, whether to quell your paranoia or side with your common sense, but ultimately, Izuku was the one to make the decision for you. It was soft, at first, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your skin, but things with Izuku rarely stayed innocent. Your body was rigid by the time you felt his tongue run over your jugular, your hands on his shoulder as his teeth ghosted over your neck, but by the time you moved to shove him away, he was already clinging to you, snaking an arm around your waist as his teeth sunk in, as he drew blood.

“I don’t--” You tried to complain, but you were cut off by a low hum from Izuku, a half-hearted sign of dismissal as he moved on to his next target, just above the dip of your collarbone. “Midoriya,” You tried, trying to shove him away. “This really isn’t the time, I’m really not in the mood. You were just talking how screwed we’d be if--”

“I was worried about it, and then, my angel comforted me. That’s wonderful, isn’t it?” He pulled you closer, nuzzling into your chest. “I’m just repaying the favor. It’d be unfair if I didn’t show my (Y/n) how much I appreciate them.”

He moved to go on, but suddenly, his eyes opened, his posture going stiff before he could say something to make you squirm and do something to make you hate him even more. You heard it a moment after he did, and felt it a second after that - voices, louder than they should’ve been, coming from the floor below, and then a crash that couldn’t have been accidental. There was a subtle tremors, a reverberation that left you locking your jaw into place. Izuku didn’t let go of you, but his grip loosened, his attention suddenly elsewhere.

And then, without warning, the floor caved in.

It happened in the blink of an eye, in the space between one second and another. One moment, you were sitting on a cot, and the next, you were lying on your back, every part of your body aching, a dozen things sprained and another hundred bruised, or cut, or ripped open and left to bleed. You forced yourself to open your eyes, but it was pointless - the world around you was grey and brown and nothing. Dust and debris polluted the air, clouding it beyond recognition, and if there was anything salvageable left of the first floor, you wouldn’t have been able to tell, much less do something with whatever you found. The fall couldn’t have been very far, but the ground was unforgiving, and everything hurt. It was all you could do to push yourself to your feet, your legs threatening to buckle under your own weight. You pulled yourself through a step, then another before you realized what was wrong.

You could stand.

You could walk.

Blearily, you focused on the shackle around your ankle, the thing that should’ve been keeping you bound to the cot now buried under a pile of rubble twice as tall as you were. The metallic circlet was still there, only slightly scoffed, but when you followed the short chain, the only thing it led back to was a pole, one leg of the makeshift bed you’d become so acquainted with. You almost left it there. Right now, you were  more focused on finding an exit and getting out than celebrating such a convenient victory, but a low moaning tore your attention towards another mangled form before you could stagger away. A mass of black fabric, a white shirt soaked through with something dark and rusty. Hair, darker than it should’ve been, and just as tangled as it usually was.

Izuku. Injured and beaten, but unquestionably Izuku. For a moment, you thought he was dead, but a guttural cough tore you away from that daydream. He didn’t move, but his eyes flickered open, finding you among the ruins. It almost seemed like he would smile, like he would laugh and call his henchmen and you’d be recaptured before you could get so much as a breath of fresh air. You could hear fighting in the distance, yelling from heroes and villains alike, but they weren’t here, not yet. Izuku could still do something crafty and clever and evil, and you’d have to pay for it. 

You’d be the victim again, and he’d come out on top.

By the time you made up your mind, your hand was already closing around the pole, the metal heavy in your fist. Izuku watched you silently, only forcing something out as you came to stand over him.

“You’d be better off with me,” He spat, his voice raspy, feeble. “If you go running back into his arms, into his world, you’ll regret it.”

You were tempted to listen. You might’ve, but you couldn’t. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself, if you did.

It wasn’t like he’d ever stopped to listen to you, after all.

You were only returning the favor.

~

You didn’t remember passing out.

You didn’t remember it, but you must’ve, because the next time you woke up, you weren’t in the debris of Izuku’s hideout, anymore - you didn’t seem to be anywhere. The lights were blinding for a second, fospheresent and white and searing, but the onslaught retreated as quickly as it attacked, disappearing completely as you remembered how to blink. If your body hurt before, it was even worse now, but the pain was at a distance, forced back by a translucent liquid and a handful of needles pumping the substance into your bloodstream, one drop at a time. You were tempted to rip them out, if only as a learned instinct, but a glance around the room revealed that you were in a medical bed, not on a cot, that the walls around you were white and speckled with dark blues and greens, rather that the dull grey you’d grown used to. It was a silent relief, not unexpected but certainly not unappreciated, the type that made you want to fall into the stiff mattress and sleep until you got used to the feeling of being able to, but you had a reason to stay awake. You had a reason to want to be awake.

Because someone was holding your hand.

Because Katsuki was holding your hand.

He was slumped against the arm of a sterile, poorly cushioned chair, his eyes nearly closed. He must’ve been here for a while - he was still wearing the essentials of his costume, but his mask had been discarded, as had his belt and his gauntlets, anything he didn’t need to sit by your bedside and fret over you. He looked exhausted, but he perked up as your fingers intertwined with his, a small smile spreading across his lips as he scanned over you.

His voice was raspy, obscure by sleep, but his tone was light, affectionate. You were thankful. That was all you needed him to be. “You took your fucking time.”

“So did you.” You might hold it against him, later on, but right now, you just wanted to settle onto your side and grin as Katsuki’s expression softened into something apologetic. “How long was I--”

“A little more than a day.” He must’ve gone over that a thousand times before you woke up. He wasn’t eager, but the speech was rehearsed, practiced, just bordering on scripted. “It’s just a minor concussion and a few fractures. Taking out Deku’s hideout was riskier than it should’ve been, but we couldn’t think of another way to separate him from his lackeys without putting civilians at risk. By the time we handled his lap dogs, you’d already collapsed.”

You hesitated, but you forced yourself to ask. You needed to know he wouldn’t come crawling back. You needed to know you hadn’t fallen to his level for nothing. “And Midoriya?”

“Died in the crash, as far as anyone can tell.” Katsuki took a deep breath, just a hint of regret finding its way into his disposition. It didn’t last long, though, dispelled with an heavy sigh. “It’s for the best. The sooner that motherfucker’s wiped off the face of the planet, the better. I was just hoping it wouldn’t be so…” He trailed off, running his free hand through his hair. “Would you believe me if I said I still thought he might not be so… fucked up, once we got him back?”

You wouldn’t. You’d spent weeks under Izuku’s thumb, tripping over yourself to keep him happy with you, spending every waking moment trying to please a sociopath, but that didn’t change the fact that he used to be Katsuki’s friend, that they’d grown up together, and that it’d been Katsuki’s fault they grew apart. You couldn’t answer, not in a way that would soothe his lingering doubts, But, he didn’t seem to need you to. Before you could think of something to say, he was already shrugging it off, shaking his head as he turned towards you. “I can’t keep focusing on shit like that, though. You’re back, and you’re safe, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You let yourself relax, melting into your pillow as Katsuki bent over the side of your bed, pushing a light, delicate kiss into your temple. “I’m just glad I got out of there,” You admitted. Katsuki only nodded in acknowledgement, nimble fingers beginning to comb through your disheveled hair. “I can’t wait to see everyone again, it feels like years since I’ve talked to someone besides Midoriya. Mina’s going to smother me, and Denki -- Wait, do you think I still have a job? They can’t fire me for getting abducted, right?”

You felt Katsuki stiffen. It took him a second to respond, just long enough to let you know something was wrong. “I… I don’t think you should head back to work, just yet.”

“Well, yeah, I’m still in a hospital gown,” You laughed, attempting to ignore his sudden seriousness. “But eventually, I’ll have to--”

“I don’t think you should go back at all.” If he was reluctant before, he’d gotten over it. Reflexively, you pushed yourself up, your arms shaking under the strain, but Katsuki was quick to backtrack, to flinch away and curse under his breath, cupping your cheek as he urged you to hear him out. “I know you’re probably dyin’ for things to go back to the way they used to be, and I know I’m being selfish, but… You were kidnapped, (Y/n), by a villain. Deku was the worst ‘em, but he wasn’t the only one. There’s probably hundreds of-- thousands of people out there who’d be willing to rip your heart out, if it means getting back to me. I don’t know if it’d be able to take it, if you wanted to risk that. I don’t know if it’d be able to let you risk that. I...” He forced himself to stop, to take a steading breath. “I just want to keep you safe. I need you to let me keep you safe.”

Huh.

It hurt a lot less than you thought it would.

It was the numbing sort of shock, a cold wave of a scenario you’d imagined (albeit, one you’d never liked) plenty of times coming to fruition. Part of you thought Katsuki might burst out laughing, that he might be joking, but Katsuki didn’t move to back down, didn’t move to do anything but stare. It made sense. He hadn’t known if you were dead or alive for a month, and Katsuki was the type to get nervous when you went more than a day without seeing him in person. He’d probably been worried sick. He’d probably been pulling his own hair out. He’d probably been… What was it Izuku said, when he was first warning you about Katsuki?

He’d probably been ready to lock you away somewhere so deep and somewhere so dark, you’d be lucky to ever see sunlight again. As long as it meant you were protected.

That didn’t mean you wanted to be locked away, though.

It was all you could do to keep your voice from shaking. You didn’t want Katsuki to lie to you just because he thought you might start crying, if he didn’t. “What happens if I don’t let you?”

He could only frown, the calloused pad of his thumb rubbing over your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you, angel.”

He didn’t want to. He’d never want to. Even if he did, even if he didn’t regret it, he’d never want to.

That already made him better than Izuku.

The slow, muted beat of the heart-monitor began to race as you leaped towards Katsuki, nearly falling off of your bed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him against you burying your face in his chest, allowing Katsuki to tentatively pull you closer, too. You could’ve called for a nurse. You could’ve screamed. You could’ve done something to put yourself at arm’s length from anyone who wanted to keep you cornered and caged, but you didn’t want to do something, you couldn’t want that. You loved Katsuki. You loved him, and you’d missed him, and the only thing you wanted to do was fall into his arms and let him take care of you, regardless of how paranoid he’d gotten. You just wanted to know he’d be there, if someone like Izuku ever came after you again.

Everything else was a small price to pay, if he could just give you that.

“Please.” You didn’t try to hide your vulnerability, anymore, you didn’t try to hide anything. Tears were already clouding your vision, something jagged and tight burrowing into the back of your throat with every word, every painful thought. Katsuki moved to speak, to comfort you, but you didn’t let him. You didn’t want to be comforted.

You just wanted to feel safe.

"I just want to go home.”

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere scenario #yandere oneshot #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #commission #writing commission #yandere commission #boku no hero academia #boku no hero acadamia imagines #yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #bnha imagines #my hero academia imagines #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #mha imagines #yandere izuku #izuku x reader #villain izuku #midoriya x reader #yandere midoriya #deku x reader #yandere deku #bakugo x reader #yanderecore #yancore

[tali-zora]

You Brutes;

Please explain why you felt it was okay to basically assassinate Molly's character by destroying her emotionally and forcing her to say and hear I Love You from and to a man who hardly gives her the time of day. Please explain why you implied that Irene Adler (a lesbian dominatrix in your adaptation) had sex with a obviously gay coded Sherlock Holmes. Please explain all the subtext between Sherlock and John which hinted at a romantic relationship. Please explain the virtruvian man with John's face pasted onto it. Please explain the aborted love declaration on the tarmac. Please explain why Mary shot Sherlock if all she wanted was to be a wife and mother with John. Please explain how John got out of the well when he was chained up. Please explain why you thought most of series 4 was a good idea. Does anyone look over your scripts before you start filimg? Please explain why at the end it was "Mary" who gave the voiceover and not John who we know is our narrator. Why give that all important job to someone who shot Sherlock to kill him and is described by her actor as a 'psychopath'. What message do you think you are sending to LGBT+ youth when all of your villains are gay coded and are actual horrible people who kill, assult and rape people for fun. Why make all the gay coding between Sherlock and John into jokes? I don't understand, please explain.

#the final problem #more like the final face palm #wtf #I don't understand #please explain

[ao3feed-buckybarnes]

Together

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2IUshE5

by ThoughtfulBreadPolice

Storms would come. Of course they would. Being Avengers guaranteed it. But they would weather them. Together.

Words: 1349, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Scott Lang, Tony Stark, Other Characters Mentioned, Cassie Lang

Relationships: Scott Lang/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Scott Lang, James "Bucky" Barnes/Scott Lang/Tony Stark

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Omega Scott Lang, Omega Tony Stark, Mentions of Racism, mentions of physical assult (brief but it's there), mentions of time spent in prision, Kidnapping Attempt, Mentions of past mpreg, hint of future mpreg

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2IUshE5

#bucky #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #james barnes