#that's why he insists on having the members of his pack murder their own packs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clanofjones · 11 months

Text

Ghosts of Our Days - Chapter Three

Start

<- Chapter Two

Ao3 link (full work)

Co-written with @theosb0rnway!

Chapter Three: Best Laid Murder Plans

April's POV

April O'Neil just wanted a donut.

That was it, just a bag of donuts for herself and the guys while they searched for Raph and Casey. Okay, and maybe she was there for whatever other comfort foods she could find, but mostly the donuts. Thinking about one pack of godforsaken donuts was better than any other thought racing through her mind.

'Where's Raph?'

'Where's Casey?'

'I hope they don't do anything stupid while I'm gone-'

'Master Splinter...'

Ah yes, the poor rat was another casualty of Oroku Saki that fateful night at the Wolf Hotel, stabbed through the chest and thrown onto the ground below for everyone to see. While the brothers carried their fallen father to the Shellraiser, April and a now conscious Slash had searched the area for Raph and Casey, finding no traces of either of them besides some blood where Raph had laid for a few moments after his own stabbing.

April tried Casey's phone, then Raph's, then the Jones apartment, but no one answered and the boys' phones didn't even ring once before April got the voice message tone signaling that they wouldn't pick up.

April took an excused absence from school to mourn Splinter for a few days, but even when she returned, there was no sign of Casey anywhere. Donnie swore up and down that all of their devices were completely untraceable, either destroyed or had their signals made invisible by someone smarter than him.

That last bit was not easy for him to admit in the slightest, but April helped him get it out. For the most part, the four of them just hung around the lair, tracking any leads they could find and trying to move on after the loss of not one, not two, but three members of their tea- no, family. All of them had their suspicions about where the boys might be, most of those suspicions being Donnie's.

"I bet he's just keeping Raph from us, hiding him away somewhere so that nobody else can have him!"

April sighed, shaking her head at her ranting boyfriend. "Donnie... come on, that's ridiculous, why would Casey ever wanna hide Raph from us? You're clearly stressed from everything that's going on, you're not thinking straight right now!"

Oh, the irony of that statement. When does Donnie ever NOT think straight?

Adding onto the list, Leo insisted that Shredder took them out too, or that Foot Bots had come to do the dirty work for them, but there were no other villains besides Super Shredder that night that anyone else had seen, not counting the villains that had distracted Leo, Mikey, Donnie, and Leatherhead. They were more C or B-grade villains that couldn't have taken out Casey or Raph, let alone both of them.

Mikey chalked it up to mysterious pizza aliens. That was obviously a no, but for once, nobody had the heart to rain on his parade, so 'Evil pizza aliens' was added to the neatly organized board that Donnie created to keep track of all his ideas, or 'conspiracy theories' as April called them.

But, back to that pack of white powdered donuts April so desperately needed. The grocery store was very much out of her normal commute, but she'd decided that taking a nice walk would do her some good. Taking a walk at three in the morning with no protection after the last fight was risky, but as previously stated, April didn't give a flying- was that Casey??

She'd recognize that black hood and beat up hockey shoes from anywhere! Those almighty donuts left her mind and her new objective immediately became talking to her lost friend. She creeped towards him, hoping he didn't hear her as he stuffed his arms with various types of junk food.

"Casey?"

The vigilante growled. "Shut the fuck up."

Okay, THAT was a new one, but nothing April O'Neil couldn't handle. "Casey?"

He turned around to face her, his eyes the only thing that hinted at his shocked expression behind the mask.

"Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in–" Before she could say anything else, he ran.

She tried to stop him, yelling all the while, "Have you at least seen Raph, we–”

That got his attention. He paused only for a second, looking back at April before dashing out the door with his now stolen food and disappearing into the night.

It looked like April's body wasn't the only thing getting exercised that night. So was her wallet. On top of the donuts, she also paid approximately for what Casey had stolen, telling the tired cashier that her friend was... a bit of a wild card. Isn't that the understatement of the year?

She noticed that some of the food was different from the others, most being packaged junk food, but others being snacks that needed either some source of cooling or to be eaten within the span of a day. They also happened to be food that April knew Raph liked, or at least tolerated eating.

This was good news for her to tell the boys, the perfect cherry on top of these finally purchased donuts! Raph was alive and so was Casey, but wherever they were, they clearly wanted to be undisturbed, ('Oh shit, Donnie was right', she thought) so April was going to do what any great family member would do: poke the beehive with the biggest stick she could find in the woods. And she could dig up some pretty big sticks.

Casey POV

'Shit. Shit shit shit shit SHIT!' That right there is the current thought process of one Casey Jones as he ran through the city with as much food as he could carry in his arms.

That wasn't good at ALL. Now April knew he was alive, but thankfully she still had no idea where he was or anything about his precious Raphael, safe and sound in his cooler.

"Fuckin' damnit, O'Neil, why do you have to ruin everything ALL the time?" He hissed, maneuvering his way through the streets until he found an empty cardboard box he could carry his food home in. He took the grappling hook and jumping combo the rest of the way home.

Home. That was what the abandoned apartment was to him now. His home. Not his own beaten up apartment with his sister and his room and all of his hockey posters and tropies. His home was now wherever his boyfriend was, so technically his home was a giant ice box in the middle of that destroyed apartment.

How fun.

"Thank the pizza in the sky for dumpster boxes!" He continued on his way, reaching the apartment with ease and carrying the box up as quickly as he could.

Nothing had changed since he'd left, save for the ice box which had stopped humming its annoying 'I'm bringing in cold air' tune. It was in its silent phase, Casey's favorite phase.

"Raphiiiieee! I'm baaaack!" No response. Casey expected that, but kept going anyway, drawing out his words like the night prior hadn't torn his life asunder. "I got you your faaaaaaavorites! We can share them together!"

He set the box on top of Raph's freezer. His face was drawn into a smile, the nearly week-old paint on his face stretching just like his skin at this point. There was no way it was coming off, and Casey wanted it that way. Raph had painted that himself the night of their battle, the same way he always did.

Casey could never quite replicate the markings, so he nicknamed it 'Raph's Secret Style'. It was similar to Jack Skellington in the mouth and had heavy black circles around the eyes, the amount of paint applied leaving Casey's face completely black and white until further notice.

Casey wouldn't have it any other way, this was the last living part of Raph he had left until he got up the guts to raid the lair. That, he believed, would take a while.

As for now, he had his snacks, his Raph, and that pesky ass voice in his ear.

'You let her catch you.'

"So?"

'Your dead cover is blown.'

"But Raphie's safe!"

'So?'

"Don't copy me, asshole! All you do is piss me off!"

'And you don't do the same to me?'

"Just SHUT UP ALREADY! Raphie and I don't need to hear you anymore."

'Yeah, keep telling yourself that, I'm SURE it's true, just like all the other secrets you're keeping.'

Casey responded by opening up a pack of Cheetos and climbing on top of the ice box. The voice stopped.

"Thank fuck. Now it's just us, Raphie! I knooowww you love Cheetos! Eat up!" He poured some of the orange cheese sticks on the box lid. He'd eat them later, but he had to let his Raph get a chance at them. That was just common courtesy, letting dead people eat first before you!

Casey let them sit on the lid as he laid down next to the snacks, singing very much off key one of his favorite songs.

"Love I can't ignore you, in my room, I do adore you Love, I can't ignore you, in my room, do anything for ya', tap tap on that piece o' ass!" He laughed at that, remembering all the times he used to roll by Raph on his skates and lovingly slap him on the ass like nobody was watching. "R-Remember that, Raphie? Remember that?" He choked out in between laughs, his face pressed up against the metal box as if he was touching Raph himself. Honestly, that wasn't a bad idea either, sliding in the box for a couple minutes to hold his dearly departed.

And as much as Casey loved the idea, he felt like Cheetos would be a right pain in the ass to get out of the floor, if he didn't want ants and rats raiding his new place. Even if the flooring wasn't carpet, but plain, flimsy, wooden floorboards.

Seeing as the Cheetos would only get cold and attract bugs with the morning air, he took one to munch on with a sigh. Despite common courtesy and all, it wasn't as if he could have expected anything to happen to the Cheetos. With that as a given, he ate them in silence.

The silence felt wrong. He was only feet away from his lover, his Raphie, but the silence was even more crushing and bone chilling than regular silences did.

'It wouldn't be so quiet if you'd saved him,' that jackass whispered in his ear silkily.

Casey banged his head against the mini freezer with a groan. Of all the things to break the silence. He'd have preferred one of the turtles, April, Splinter, Karai, or, heck, even Super Shredder discovering his dwellings than that stupid voice echoing in the silence around him.

"Jackass."

'Imbecile.'

"Useless."

'Ditto.'

Casey huffed and scooped the rest of the Cheetos into his hands. As he ate in the silence, he knew that the voice wouldn't have made an appearance if Raph hadn't died– no. Hadn't been killed. Murdered. Massacred.

He still had a job to do, after all. Kill Super Shredder. No resurrections allowed, and if anyone tried, Casey would kill them too.

But how would one kill Super Shredder? Casey had thrown nearly everything, if not everything, that he had at Super Shredder, and it barely did anything.

Well, another voice offered, nobody survives a good old fashioned decapitation, did they? Not unless they were, like, one of those Greek monsters. But Casey was pretty damn sure Super Shredder could only grow spikes, not extra heads.

So Casey Jones made another list. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that he should probably get a notebook or something of the sort.

WAYS TO KILL THAT FUCKER:

Decapitation

Stabbing with something really big (ironic)

Bombing

Drill

Sniper shot in the eye

They were in no particular order of ways that he'd prefer to have it done, or efficiency and ease with which it could be done. If he'd had to choose, Stabbing With Something Really Fucking Big would be his preference. Make Saki look at him while he died, with nobody he could call to. Casey would grin as the light left that monster's eyes.

The only problems would be keeping the way clear for him to do the necessary deed, and finding something big enough to pierce enough flesh to kill the fucker.

The turtles and Splinter were already ninjas, and while Casey could keep up with them to the extent that he went on missions, he doubted he could handle fighting all of them, especially Splinter. Slash was a beast of a turtle, but Casey was fast enough that he might be able to outrun and KO him with his taser. April's powers weren't to be discounted either, and he'd do well to preoccupy her first, if anybody was to try and stop him.

Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. They would already resent him for not being able to save Raph, he didn't need the added weight of a full on fight with them and their allies.

In regards to his second need, he could probably fashion something thick and strong enough to take him out once he amassed more of his and Raph's possessions.

Regardless, he'd have to up the ante with his gear. What worked on the Purple Dragons and Baxter Stockman wouldn't work on Shredder or, if it came to it, his friends.

As he made another mindless snatch at his palm, he looked down. The Cheetos were gone, save for the orange powder.

He scooped the remaining powder from the top of the freezer, walked over to the collapsed wall, and dusted it off into the morning breeze. Some of it blew right back at him, and he was glad he still had his hockey mask on. Furiously swiping at his face, he managed to dislodge the remnants into the city.

Now, only one thought ran through Casey's head.

Oroku Saki would die. And Casey Jones would be the one to do it.

A/N: There's no party like a murder party *proceeds to jammy-jam*

Also, if you wanna check out any other writing I've done, then my AO3 is here!

Chapter Four ->

#tmnt 2012 #2012 rasey #2012 casey jones #2012 raph #2012 april #2012 donnie #2012 leo #2012 mikey #2012 splinter #2012 shredder #Ghosts of Our Days #fanfiction #ao3

12 notes · View notes

short-yandere-stories · 2 years

Note

Hello! Could I request a story where Black Butler Joker is in love with a women who is already married to another with one young child and she's pregnant for that person.

Content Warnings: Contemplated murder, mentions of potential child murder, mentions of forced marriage, kidnapping and pregnancy.

This is a yandere work. Proceed at your own risk and please be mindful of your triggers.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*: Joker had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep the forced smile on his lips as he juggled several objects masterfully on the stage. Of course, you had to come to this performance with him.

Don’t get him wrong, he was always happy to see you in the audience with your young child; her blonde hair in pigtails (that would have looked so much better if it had matched his own hair color) sitting in your lap and clapping at the performances.

It was an ego boost that your daughter loved to go to the circus more than anything — she must have known by intuition that he was a part of their family. Why else would she cheer the loudest when he was on stage? Why else would she stubbornly insist to bring you to this circus and not a different one? It was fate.

What made him mad was when that man who called himself your husband tagged along, cuddling up to you in the audience.

Joker threw up one more object into his juggling in an attempt to focus on the performance, but it was all in vain. His circus arts came so naturally to him by now that it was no challenge at all to juggle eight, ten -- fifteen objects all at once.

All he could think of was the arm around your shoulders that wasn’t his. Oh the fantasies he had about getting rid of that filth.

It wasn’t unusual for a circus to ask for volunteers in the audience to come up on stage to assist in tricks. Maybe Joker would just happen to pick him out from the crowd. Circus acts can be dangerous no matter if you’re a professional or not, so if the tiger slips from Beast’s control or a knife is thrown a little too hard... Well, no one would be able to blame them, after all! And how they would lament this tragic accident. The poor audience who had to witness such a tragedy, and the poor, pregnant widow with a young child who would get a meeting with Joker personally so he could properly apologize.

The circus could then pack up and move to another location the next day, with two more members hidden off in their entourage. A slow smile spreads across Joker’s lips. Yes that would work nicely. And if you’re being unruly and fighting your love to him, he can just make sure that you carry some of his children too. Joker has already fallen in love with the small girl you already have, and could never bring himself to harm her, but if the child in your belly looks a little too much like the man who kept you from him... Well, don’t cry too much, darling.

Your new husband will make sure to fill you up with child again, don’t you worry.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

429 notes · View notes

frogtanii · 3 years

Text

℗ home

kenma x fem!reader (poker face ending)

series masterlist

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

wc. 2.9k (ahaha)

warnings. NOT PROOFREAD, liberal use of italics, soft soft, kenma in denial, allusions to marriage, bokuto and kuroo meddling, drinking, declarations of love, SMUT!!! (is marked off!), sub!kenma, handjob + blowjob, slightly insecure!kenma, meiko mentions, enthusiastic consent, one (1) katamari reference, vocal!kenma, uhh

an. good golly gee i HATE ending the endings m so bad at it AND the smut is lil weirder to skip??? like it’s not impossible or anything but it’s not as smooth as atsumu’s, m rlly sorry :((((( but i rlly hope y’all enjoy hehe don’t forget to feed me shawties :3

the loud obnoxious pop music blasting in the crowded bar around kenma made him want to fling himself into the moon at the nearest opportunity.

okay, so that was a little dramatic but the fact still stood.

he was crammed into a tiny booth with kuroo, bokuto, and akaashi, the former brushing up against him with every little movement, making kenma bristle in discomfort.

why the hell did i agree to this, kenma thought while sipping on his cranberry juice. he’d never enjoyed drinking, his true thoughts and feelings coming out way too easily once intoxicated. it was so infuriating being a lightweight, especially when everyone around him was disgustingly drunk.

“are you having fun kenma?” bokuto half yelled, half slurred into his ear from across the table. kenma slouched further into the booth’s stained cushions in response, his lack of answer not bothering bokuto in the slightest.

with the boisterous man’s attention successfully diverted by akaashi, kenma allowed his eyes to wander out over the dance floor but he wasn’t really paying them any mind. instead, his mind was occupied with none other than you.

it shouldn’t have been that surprising considering all the time he’d been spending with you recently. it had been a few months since the hyper house had disbanded and while you were enjoying your time living with your best friends, they had way too much sex. like an abnormal amount.

it had gotten to the point where you were having to abscond from the apartment four times a week because they were just so loud.

at first you had found refuge in the 24 hour cafe a few blocks from your place but falling asleep at a hard wood table only to have to walk home at 2am alone was terrible for your peace of mind (and your back).

you’d started complaining about it at your weekly animal crossing hang outs with kenma and he’d offered the brilliant solution of you coming over to his place when makki and mattsun were otherwise... occupied.

you were shocked at his suggestion and aptly so. it was no news that kenma absolutely hated hosting and having people over, especially since he was one of the few former members that were able to afford their own place straight out the gate.

when you’d expressed this, all he had said was, you’re different.

that wasn’t enough for you, evidenced by your once again nightly stays at the cafe but when you had to run home because someone was following you, you begrudgingly agreed to kenma’s offer and started sleeping at his house multiple times a week.

it was a bit to get used to at first, seeing you first thing in the morning with messy hair and sleep-swollen eyes. you were beautiful jarring. but, as time passed, he got used to your presence, making your drink of choice and sliding him his tea in the morning, sending him a soft smile that had him running to the bathroom to hide his blush.

it was all... strangely domestic.

even now, the thought of you in your threadbare sleep shirt, standing in his kitchen while cooking breakfast sent a wave of heat across his face, spreading up to the tips of his ears.

“what are you thinking about that’s got you so red?” kuroo teased, pulling the glass out of kenma’s hands, laughing at his annoying glare. he hoped he could ignore the question as he so often did, but apparently he wasn’t so lucky.

bokuto cackled in his seat before calling out your name, sending a chill of fear down kenma’s spine. “bet he’s thinkin about her! about how he wants to smooch her and maybe more,” he waggled his eyebrows, “i’m just saying!”

the rest of the table let out good natured laughs but kenma was preoccupied with replaying what bokuto had said.

i mean, sure he thought you were pretty, but anyone with eyes would agree! and yeah, maybe spending time with you was the highlight of his week, but it wasn’t his fault you were so genuinely enjoyable to be around. and of course, sometimes when it was late at night, his mind would wander to you and how it would feel to wake up beside you instead of across the hall from you and—

fuck. he liked you. a lot.

then, as if you somehow knew exactly what was on his mind (a terrifying thought to entertain), his phone buzzed in his hoodie pocket. he pulled it out quickly to check it and he hated how his heart picked up in his chest at the sight of your contact name.

[sussy baka <3]: wya shawty 🤨 u have no food in ur fridge n m hungry seen 13:20

[player ew]: s boys night seen 13:22

[sussy baka <3]: 😐

[sussy baka <3]: are u having fun seen 13:25

[player ew]: ... seen 13:28

[sussy baka <3]: yeah that’s what i thought

[sussy baka <3]: bring home some ramen <3 seen 13:31

home. god, if he didn’t like the sound of that coming from you. it took kenma no time at all to start packing up his things, ignoring the knowing looks on his friends faces as he tossed down a couple of bills for his drink and left to go home, where you were.

after stopping at the convenient store, he headed to his apartment building, shopping bag full of ramen in one hand and heart in the other.

no matter what he did, he couldn’t get bokuto’s annoying voice out of his head, telling him that he liked you. and now that he knew it was true? he was kind of spiraling.

the ding of the elevator managed to somehow shake him out of his thoughts, at least for him to get to his front door, but once it was open, all coherent brain activity immediately dissolved.

you were sitting on his couch in the living room, bundled up in one of his mario blankets and wearing one of his hoodies as you watched some animal documentary raptly, sheer disgust written all over your face.

kenma gulped.

he managed to work up the courage to actually enter his apartment, kicking off his shoes by the door and beelining towards the kitchen, not missing your excited call of his name and wide grin.

biting down any other unchecked feelings, he quickly set to work boiling the water for the ramen and then... stood there. boiling water would take a while and he knew he couldn’t avoid you forever but he really, really didn’t want to go sit by you with all these emotions sitting right on his chest.

“kenma, they’re gonna eat the seal!” you yelled from the couch, waving him over frantically. how was he supposed to say no to brutal animal murder on tv? kenma chuckled dryly at his own joke as he made his way over to where you sat, plopping himself on the side of the couch furthest away from you.

he told himself he just didn’t want to bug you when he had to go check the water but he knew it was a lie. he was running from his feelings, from anything that could ruin this.

you shot him a concerned look which he caught out of the corner of his eye but he kept his head firmly forward, unwilling to look at you if he didn’t have to. “kenma, what’s wrong? was boys night that bad?” you asked gently, and fuck if that didn’t make him feel worse.

kenma just shook his head, still choosing not to face you. you let out a long, arduous sigh before scooting across the couch and pressing yourself to his side, pulling his head down to rest on your chest while taking one of his hands into your own.

what the fuck. what the fuck?!1!?1!!?1!

you were so soft and warm and your arms around him made him feel things which was exactly what he was trying to avoid but then you actually started to speak and oh shit it got worse.

“kenma,” you started, running your hands through his deep brown locks, “you know you can talk to me about anything right?”

of course he knew that because this was you and you were so kind and considerate and badass and cool and that was all precisely why he couldn’t talk to you about everything, especially when it came to his emperor of the cosmos sized feelings for you.

but, instead of saying any of that, he allowed you to continue, his body relaxing into your hold against his will.

“i bother you because i care about you and i worry, you know. i know you’re strong and you can take care of yourself but i can’t help it...” if kenma was really listening, he would’ve heard the shakiness in your voice, the apprehension in your words but he didn’t. “i can’t help it because i like you, kenma.”

you... what?

kenma pushed himself off of you to look you in the face, to find any sign that you’re pranking him or just being cruel but he couldn’t find any.

still, he couldn’t take you at your word, after all who would like someone like him?

“say it again,” his voice comes just under a whisper, his words stilted and unsure but he needs to know, he needs to believe you. he wants to believe you.

“i like you.” you don’t use any big, flowery words, nor do you try and justify why you like him and still, somehow it’s enough. kenma’s eyes filled with tears as they’re trained on you but your eyes were occupied elsewhere.

staring at his lips.

“can i kiss you?” you asked softly, not pressuring or forceful but like that was truly just on your mind and you had to ask it. kenma wasn’t sure how he was supposed to resist when you asked him like that. “please,” was his response, already breathy and absolutely wrecked.

you obliged.

•••smut begin•••

surging forward, you pressed your mouth to his, soft lips meeting chapped ones as you moved them insistently against his own. kenma let out an embarrassing whine at the contact, his hands balling into fists by his sides.

yours, on the other hand, wandered, tracing over the hills and valleys of his chest and back before landing right under the hem of his hoodie. you pulled back, laughing quietly at the way he so eagerly chased your lips while halting him with a hand to his sternum.

“can i take this off?” kenma nodded enthusiastically before he could stop himself and you let out another soft huff as you busied yourself with getting him naked.

he tried to help you where he could, but he was ultimately resigned to bask in your movements, in your control as you manhandled him out of every article of clothing he was wearing until he was as naked as the day he was born.

immediately, the insecurities took hold of him, his mouth opening to stutter out an apology for how he looked. meiko’s voice played in his ears, reminding him he wasn’t what the girls went for being too skinny, too sensitive, too loud.

kenma moved to pick his clothes back up to cover himself before retreating to his room where he could die of shame but your firm hand kept him where he sat.

“you’re beautiful,” you said, like you were saying the sky was blue or the grass was green — as an irrefutable fact. your brows were furrowed at first but the expression melted away to show a softer one, one full of love, admiration, and... lust.

a high-pitched whimper left his lips at your gaze, his cock throbbing against his thigh. you grinned and moved back in to kiss him, your hand moving to his throat to hold him in place, his adam’s apple bobbing against your palm.

your other, unoccupied, hand traveled down his body to rub over a nipple, his back arching into your touch as his breath hitched against your mouth. you let out a hum of approval, continuing your ministrations of pinching and plucking the hard bud before moving further down to take a hold of his cock.

kenma broke away from you, a choked wail erupting from his chest as he bucked up into your grip. “can i make you feel good? can i show you how beautiful you are?” you asked earnestly, your thumb gently caressing his jaw.

“please, please, please,” he begged. under normal circumstances, he would be embarrassed at how easily he’d been folding for you, but it was so much easier to just submit to your capable and willing hands.

“good boy,” you tacked on mindlessly, your blown eyes and kiss-swollen lips only adding to your debauched look. internally, kenma preened at the fact that he was responsible for you looking like that, so feral like you just wanted to eat him up.

which was apparently exactly what you wanted to do, evidenced by you sliding onto your knees in front of him, pressing kisses and sucking marks into his pale thighs.

kenma’s hips stuttered beneath you as he watched you get closer and closer to his throbbing member, the tip already bright red and leaking precum.

suddenly, your eyes shot up to his, pinning him with an intense stare as you slowly, slowly brought him to your mouth, the wet heat enveloping the head before you closed your lips around him and sucked.

holy fucking shit.

his reaction was instantaneous. his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips bucked up into your mouth, and a filthy moan escaped from him as you started to get into a nice rhythm sucking his cock.

kenma could barely keep himself quiet, especially when you began toying with his balls, the feeling adding to the coil tightening in his gut.

you pulled all the way off of him before sucking him down the hilt, his mouth opening in a silent scream as you choked around his length, the pleasure that your throat was bringing while you pulsed around him was otherworldly.

he was going to die, he resigned. he was going to die by the biggest orgasm he’d ever had with his penis in your mouth and he was going to love every second of it.

a sharp tap to his inner thigh brought him back down to earth, this bleary eyes trying to focus on your face and once they did, he was taken aback. your eyes held such fondness, such love that he could hardly take it.

kenma couldn’t hold back his thoughts, especially under the intensity of your gaze, his mouth opening to gasp out, “i love you, shit, i love you.”

you pulled off him with a pop but you didn’t stop stroking him, your hand picking up the pace to the point that his thighs were quivering with the strength of his oncoming orgasm.

“say it again,” you threw his words right back at him and if he’d been in his right mind, he might’ve laughed but since he was drowning in pleasure, he immediately followed your orders, groaning out those three words over and over until he was hoarse.

you seemed to enjoy it, so much so that you took the palm of your hand and toyed with the sensitive tip of his cock, sending him right over the edge.

his vision whited out completely as he came with a loud cry of your name, tears trailing from his lashline from the sheer severity of his orgasm, one hand grasped tightly in yours.

•••smut over•••

as kenma came down from his high, he watched you brush his hair from his face before pressing a kiss to his hairline.

“you know, i love you too,” you stated, pulling him up to rest his spent body against your own. he scoffed while playing with your hand, toying with your bare ring finger in a way that you knew was deliberate.

“i figured, you just sucked my dick.” you protested loudly, smacking him gently on the arm when he snickered at your reaction. after your laughter died down, he rested his head back over your heart, listening to the steady beat thrumming beneath his ear.

your hands tangled back into his hair and he felt himself drifting off into dreamland when a loud meow startled him awake again. kyabia (or caviar) stared up at him with unblinking feline eyes, her tail swishing silently against the floor. “oh god, my cat is seeing me naked,” he gasped in horror, your chest heaving against his ear as you cackled.

kyabia quickly got bored and scampered off to who knows where and by that time, kenma was ready to knock back out. you were still laughing though and since you were his human pillow, that just wouldn’t do.

shoving you down on the couch, he buried his head in your chest and muttered a blunt, “sleep,” ignoring the way your giggle made a smile spread across his cheeks.

obviously, you could tell if your own matching grin was anything to go by but you let it be, instead choosing to wrap your arms around him and hold him tighter to your body, like you were trying to pour all your love into the embrace.

kenma only hoped that you would also “let it be” when you caught him ring shopping on his phone just a few weeks later.

it was only a matter of time. why delay when he loved you and you loved him? he knew he couldn’t wait until he could officially call you his.

after all, kozume yn had a nice ring to it.

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

2K notes · View notes

angryschnauzer · 3 years

Text

Undercover Honeymoon

Summary; Having survived a helicopter crash that killed off the gang you and your senior agent had infiltrated, you hide out from the storm that brought the aircraft down by pretending to be Honeymooners at a boutique hotel... but what will 24 hours with August Walker bring you? Trouble, that’s what, and the best possible kind.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, honestly this is entirely smut, its a crack fic too. Sigh, here goes: face slap, murder, August in a hoodie and grey sweatpants, oral sex (female recieving), blowjob, drunken antics, impared judgement, titty fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, inappropriate lube, multiple orgasms, dubious consent, choking, dom-vibes, Sugar Daddy arrangement (but no Daddy kink).

I do not run a tag list, but if you go and follow @angryschnauzerwrites and hit notifications, you’ll get an alert to any new stories i post. All previous fics can be found on there or on my Ao3

Undercover Honeymoon

The helicopter spiralled out of control, the tall pines looming through the storm of the century rain, screaming filled your ears, unsure if it was the sound of the engines failing or coming from your own lungs. The aircraft made contact with the trees and everything went black.

“Agent… AGENT!” a slap across your face sprang you from your unconscious state, your vision blurred and you winced at the sharp pain that shot through your temple as the face before you came into focus.

“Walker?” you muttered; “Can’t blow our cover…”

Strong arms gripped your shoulders;

“Wake UP! Everyone else is dead”

The next hour was surreal. Agent Walker - your superior officer - had pulled you from the wreckage of the helicopter, past the lifeless bodies of the gang you’d infiltrated, some of which had injuries that looked suspiciously like gunshot wounds. Either way you were alive and so was the other undercover agent, and having spent the last four days running bank robberies you were relieved to be rid of the brutal gang.

Agent Walker had half dragged half carried you through the forest, and even though it was the middle of the day, the torrential rain and dark storm clouds above made the way feel like you were travelling at twilight. When you stumbled on some roots he caught you, his arm firmly around your waist;

“C’mon Agent, not much further now…” his voice softer than usual, reassuring even.

“Where’re we going?”

“Out of season ski lodge… should be quiet this time of year, just a couple of wildlife watchers no doubt”

What you’d been expecting was a cute little place with checkered curtains and cutesy decor, what you’d arrived at was a luxury boutique hotel. Agent Walker had managed to spin a very convincing tale of your car leaving the highway due to the weather and he’d arrange to get it recovered after the storm so you could continue your ‘honeymoon’. The receptionist had smiled warmly and offered the pair of you the luxury suite, August merrily peeling $100 bills off a stack he’d produced from his pocket, the paper band that held them together from the robbery slyly crumpled up and you quietly picked it up from the floor, a tiny smirk on the corner of his face when he spotted you covering his rare mistake.

Ten minutes later you were settled in your shared room, starting to peel yourself out of your soaked boots and clothing as you eyed the enormous bathroom and ultra fluffy robes that were provided.

“I’m going to go to the gift shop…” he announced, breaking the silence; “They do hoodies and stuff, i’ll grab some dry things to change into…”

“Thanks Agent Walker… I’m going to take a bath…”

He nodded quietly, standing at the door;

“It’s August… call me August”

You must have fallen asleep in the bath, as the next thing you know there is an insistent knocking on the bathroom door;

“Honey? Honey, everything ok in there?”

“Y-yes, Sorry, fell asleep…”

“Ok Honey, just got room service here delivering some lunch”

“Thanks Aug… Augie…”

Augie? Where the hell did that come from? You mentally chastised yourself. An hour ago he was your senior agent and all round grumpy supervisor, now he was ‘Augie’? You actually facepalmed yourself before taking a deep breath and climbing out of the bath. A few moments later once you were dry, wearing the fluffy robe you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, your breath catching in your throat;

“Augie… we have company?”

Agent Walker was standing in the middle of the room in his shirt, underwear and socks, talking to the room service attendant as he tipped the young man;

“Darling, lunch is here, you must be famished” he let a warm smile spread over his face as he turned to the staff member; “We must have a bite to eat… expending lots of energy, it is our honeymoon after all…”

Once he’d ushered the man out of the room he cleared his throat and his expression dropped, his face serious again;

“I got your new attire… it fits more with the location” he motioned for you to follow him to the bed where there were a number of things laid out, however your feet were rooted to the floor; “What?”

“You’re… you’re in your underwear…”

He looked down, almost in shock to discover he was without his cargo pants;

“Yes? And you’re completely naked beneath that fetching white robe” he motioned to a side of the bed where a bunch of things were sat on the pristine white duvet; “So unless you wish to eat lunch having me know you are naked save for a glorified towel with sleeves - and that would be a delightful thought - you may want to get changed whilst i shower”

Without another word he smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and grabbed a pile of clothing on the bed, before sauntering into the bathroom, leaving you open jawed at both his sassiness and his tight ass in snug jersey boxers.

Turning back to what was laid on the bed you looked over what he’d managed to get in the hotel’s boutique; a daringly short floral summer dress, a hoodie with the Hotel’s logo on, a pack of novelty thong panties also with bears on, and the highest heeled wedge sandals you’d ever seen. Although none of this surprised you, it was after all the kind of hotel where in good weather, the rich and famous could have cocktails on the deck as they overlooked the Rocky mountains, the fact he’d managed to find your exact size in everything was impressive.

Leaving the heels off for now, you pull the panties and dress on, throwing the hoodie on unzipped to cover up a little, before going to investigate the food, realising that you probably hadn’t eaten for close to 24 hours. You were bent over the service trolley scrutinising the various dishes that had been delivered when you heard his voice;

“Huh, didn’t need to buy you a wallet, those tiny panties show off your silken purse beautifully Princess”

Spinning around you gasped, about to give him a piece of your mind but your train of thought stopped like a record scratch. There before you stood Agent August Walker, grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, chest bare as he pulled a khaki green hoodie over his still damp curls. You noticed how his beard was a little beyond stubble, his mustache curling as a small smile tugged as his lips. Your gaze unashamedly ran down the length of his entire body, emphasis on length as it was clear he was without any underwear, and those rumours that were quietly whispered in the ladies room at the Pentagon were looking to be true as to exactly why they called him ‘The Hammer’.

Still holding a cooling French Fry he sauntered over to you before grabbing a sandwich from the platter;

“My apologies… that was inappropriate” he took a bite, before talking with his mouth full; “Been a crazy 24 hours huh?”

“Y-yeah, you could say that… so, what’s the plan?”

Just at that moment an incredible gust of wind rattled the windows to the point you thought they would blow in, the lights overhead flickered before settling back to bright as he answered;

“Eat, Drink, Sleep. We’re stuck here at least overnight. We don’t have any cells or electronics people can trace, and having checked the map this is not the closest civilisation to the crash site so even if people did come looking for us, this isn’t the first place they’d think of… however in this weather the roads are impassable, at least two rivers have breached their banks, we’re basically cut off from the rest of the world here in our own little bubble” he took a bite of sandwich before grinning at you; “So eat up, the bar downstairs is well stocked, dinner is apparently served in about 4 hours, and there’s a game room if you’re up for a round or two of pool…”

Giggling you both tumbled into your suite, August flicking the light switch up and down before realising the power had gone out at the exact moment he’d unlocked the door;

“Oooh dark… are you afraid of the dark Princess?”

The pair of you stumbled and turned, pushing the door shut and you found yourself pressed between it and August’s body, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses along your jugular, his facial hair leaving behind a trail of tingling skin in its wake;

“Depends who i’m in the dark with…”

He was so close, in the faint last traces of daylight as the storm took hold of the night you could see the outline of his face, how his long eyelashes rested against his cheeks as he closed his eyes, his breath warm on your skin as you were surrounded by his scent, pine soap and single malt whiskey;

“A monster…”

“I was never afraid of monsters…”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to your clothed stomach before his hands were beneath the skirt and pulling your novelty panties down;

“Hold your dress up Princess, show me that pretty pussy”

Doing as he told you, you gripped the pretty fabric in your hands as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before his thick fingers parted your folds and he dived in. His mustache and light beard pricked at your sensitive skin, but his tongue and lips soothed your aching core, desperate for attention and dripping with need as he went to town on you. He quickly brought you to orgasm before pushing you on for the next, his fingers now knuckle deep in your velvet walls, curling just right to find that spot that had you dripping, his tongue working against your clit to the point where you had to steady yourself by curling one hand through his soft chestnut curls, riding his face as you cried out his name.

Now over sensitive, you pulled his curls to get him to relent, a grunt of frustration coming from between your thighs;

“Augie… please… too sensitive…”

He quickly stood, lifting you to kiss you roughly, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you could taste yourself on his tongue as he gripped your ass as he carried you across the room before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed;

“Strip” he commanded as he staggered to the bathroom.

You ignored his request, instead reaching for a bottle of water at the side of the bed, taking a drink from he as he returned holding a bottle;

“August… what’s that?”

He looked down at the bottle, almost surprised he was holding something and blinked a few times before looking back at you;

“Baby oil. Its... Baby oil”

“Why do you have Baby oil?” you asked, already knowing the answer but with a sly streak wanting to get him to admit it

“Because they didn’t sell condoms in the gift shop so i cant fuck your pussy because i can’t check to see if you’re on birth control” he blurted out quickly.

Whatever you had been expecting, it hadn’t been that, and as you coughed on the water you had been about to drink, August got distracted and moved to light the candles that sat on the table in the centre of the room now that the only available light was the tiny light over the sink in the bathroom that was battery operated. You watched as he somehow managed to strike the matches and light the candles even though he was visibly drunk, before returning back to the bed and standing over you;

“Why aren’t you naked?” he frowned at you; “Don’t make me rip that pretty little dress off of you Princess”

Shimmying out of your dress you bit your lip as you watched him watching you, the low light dancing over your body and enough for you to see the obscene bulge barely contained by his sweatpants. He stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you before he took hold of your ankles and roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed before he pulled the grey sweats down and you finally got sight of his legendary hammer;

“Fuck…”

“We’ll get to that Princess, but first, suck”

Taking him in your hands he was hot and throbbing at your touch, his thick shaft patterned with veins, heavy and virile. You pumped your fist, your fingers unable to meet as you worked his uncut dick. You felt his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer until you had no choice but to open your mouth and take him as deep as you could, gagging as he immediately hit the back of your throat and started to fuck your mouth.

Holding your head in place with both hands he rocked his hips back and forth, groaning as he stretched your lips almost uncomfortably. Soon you had spit running down your chin as he rained down a stream of degrading compliments;

“Cock hungry slut, look at you with my dick in your mouth… does it taste good, Jesus christ your tongue is perfect, yeah do that thing again, fuck, i can feel your throat tight around me…” with a gasp he pulled out, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his angry red tip, before he grabbed the baby oil and pushed you back until you were laying flat on the bed;

“Push your tits together, i’m gonna fuck them and cum all over your pretty face”

He climbed on the bed, straddling your lower torso as you found yourself pushing your breasts together. The click of a bottle of baby oil and it was being poured in the valley of your chest, before he settled his dick against the slick skin. He dropped the bottle and with a grunt pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing his glorious chest, covered in dark hair and thicker than you had realised.

His dick was heavy against your chest as he took your hands in his and showed you how he wanted you to hold your titties for him, rocking his hips bath and forth as his hot flesh slipped through your soft pillows, the angry tip poking out at your neck with each thrust;

“So fucking pretty, gonna cum all over that face… you wanna taste my cum you little slut? Yeah? Cock hungry slut, can’t get enough of my dick, can you?”

You didn’t answer, the lust in his eyes making you drunk with desire, instead you tipped your head to your chest and opened your mouth, letting August’s dick slide into your mouth, the salty tang of his precum hitting your senses.

His thrusts were becoming rough and violent, his hips squeezing your ribcage as he fought back against the urge to cum, but you wanted it, needed it;

“August, will you cum on my face, pretty please?” you batted your eyelashes at him innocently and it was the final straw, and you watched as he threw his head back and thick ropes of his creamy seed spurted over your mouth and cheeks as he groaned so deliciously. On the last spurt you leaned forwards and took his tip into your mouth, gently laving your tongue over the leaking slit, before releasing him softly. August had eased his gasp on your tits, and using his thick finger he scooped the cum from your cheek;

“Open wide Princess”

Sticking your tongue out you sucked the bitter treat from his finger, before he repeated it with the other cheek. Finally swallowing you grinned at him;

“Thank you August”

His hand paused on your cheek, softly cupping it;

“Anything for you Princess… now scoot up the bed, i wanna eat that pussy again whilst i get you ready for my dick”

He swung his leg over so you could wriggle up the bed, and immediately he was laying between your legs, both of your thighs over his shoulders as he started to sloppily eat you out again, except this time his lubed fingers strayed to your asshole and he already had one knuckle deep in your back entrance. You were writhing against his tongue, and although not as accurate with his targets this time now that the alcohol in his system was taking hold, that wide tongue was driving you to heaven as his fingers pulled you down into the dark pits of depravity that hell could only contain. You were uttering almost incomprehensible gibberish, begging for more which he eagerly gave, a second and soon a third finger stretching your ass as he prepared you for what was yet to come. You came with a scream as his wide tongue tormented your pussy until you had to physically pull him by his curls to stop, breathless as you watched him kneel on the bed and grab the baby oil, pouring some onto his hand to lube his dick before smoothing a considerable amount over your asshole and lined up his now raging hard on with your stretched hole. He paused, looking down at you;

“Final chance to back out… do you want me to fuck your ass?”

“Yes… please August, i want your dick in my ass, i want you to cum in my ass, treat me like a dirty anal slut”

With a groan he pushed forwards, slowly breaching your body and you felt the uncomfortable stretch of having a dick slide into your ass. Even with the prep and the oil it still took a while for your body to relax enough for him to push in, but when he eventually was balls deep in your ass you felt so full you were sure you would burst;

“Oh my god… You’re so big…”

“Taking me like a champ Princess, even with the oil your ass is so fucking tight i’m struggling not to blow my load right here and now”

“Fuck my ass August, do it hard, i wanna feel it in the morning…”

With a roar he started to fuck into you, holding himself up on his massive arms as his hips pistoned into you, filling your barren depths as his pubic bone rubbed against your empty pussy and your juices flooded his crotch;

“So fucking wet Princess, leaking all down your ass, its only adding to the lube so i can fuck you harder. Your poor little battered asshole, you’re barely gonna be able to sit tomorrow… apart from back on my dick as we have breakfast, don’t think this is the only time i’m gonna fuck your ass, i’m gonna use this hole until you’re loose and stretched, so i can just bend you over and slide my dick into your ass. Gonna hide those stupid panties i bought you, i want you walking around bare, my cum dripping down your legs where there’s so much inside you, you can barely keep it inside… shame the gift shop didn’t sell plugs, i woulda’ filled you with my load and have you plugged and ready lubed for me to use whenever i pleased…”

August’s dirty talk had you cumming hard, squeezing him tight and yet he fucked you straight through it. Laying limp as he continued to fill your ass he slowed and moved, kneeling on the bed as he moved your legs from either side of his lips until both your feet were over one of his shoulders, pushing and pulling you until he had one arm firmly wrapped around your knees and he could fuck into your ass as he held you like a rag doll. The new position was tighter, deeper, and as you started to pant out with lust his free hand rested on your throat, squeezing carefully but firmly;

“Harder…” you panted out, your head swimming as your airway was restricted, and as he pounded into your ass you were both getting close.

“Gonna cum in your ass, fill you up with a massive load, you want that Princess?”

You tried to say yes, but all that came out was a tiny croak as his massive hand gripped your throat. Before you could even try again your orgasm hit, your eyes rolling back in their sockets as you squirted, your body gripping him so tight he reached his peak, pushing in as deep as he could as he pumped your ass full of his cum.

August released his grip on your neck, pulling out gently as he softly lay your legs on the bed;

“Did so well Princess, such a good little slut…”

You could only hum out a response, your mind as used as your body was.

You woke to the sound of soft rain falling against the window, peering out from beneath the duvet you could see that the grey light of morning was filling the room, the storm seemingly blown mostly through with just a persistent rain now dampening the earth. Shifting on the bed you winced, everything was sore, but especially your ass. But then a warm body pressed to your back, a large hand smoothed over your stomach and a familiar voice spoke softly in your ear as stubble brushed against your bare shoulders;

“Rise and shine…”

“Hmmmmm no, i don’t wanna get up” you grumbled

“But…”

“Noooo. If we get up then we’ve got to think about things going back to normal, i just wanna pretend i’m able to stay in a hotel as nice as this when i’m not trying to escape a dangerous gang… too many responsibilities, too much stress… i just want another half hour of being treated like a Princess” you grumbled.

A quiet chuckle came from behind you;

“There’s no reason why we can’t do this again”

Turning in his arms, you looked at August;

“How? You’re my superior Agent, the CIA pushes and pushes and pushes, I never get enough time off to do something like this, If i had known i was literally signing my life away i would never have signed up for the academy. What’s the fucking use of earning a good wage if i can never enjoy it… and its not even that good of a wage to be honest…” you paused and narrowed your gaze; “Have you showered?”

“Yes. And i have a proposition for you…”

“Keep talking…”

August started to move, slowly climbing between your legs and you felt his hard dick resting against your folds, your pussy instinctively growing wet, slowly rubbing against you as he smiled down at you;

“As a senior agent i get a considerably better wage than you do, but i don’t have anyone to share it with, anyone to treat like a Princess and spoil with gifts that they deserve… but i also want someone that will be agreeable to my darkest desires…” he rocked his hips back before slowly parting his thighs, and you felt the nudge of his tip at your soaked pussy; “... someone, a woman i can treat like a Princess but will let me fuck them like a whore… can i fuck your pussy like a whore?”

The gentle nudge of his dick just stretching the ring of muscle that granted access to the heaven between your legs had you begging, pleading to be August’s Whore. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he slowly sank into your pussy, bare and unprotected filling you with his virile shaft;

“You’re my Slutty Princess…taking my dick like a pro”

In that hotel room August Walker became your sugar Daddy, and over room service breakfast you agreed the details of your arrangement as you sat on his lap, his dick in your ass as he fed you strawberries, before he grew impatient and bounced you on his dick until he came in your barren depths. Resting back against his chest, his softening dick still inside you he played with your pussy as he discussed the next step, trying to decide if a trip to an adult store or a jewellery store should be the first stop after returning to DC;

“How about a jewelled plug?” you suggested; “That’s the best of both worlds”

Holding your jaw he turned your head so he could kiss you, pulling away and grinning;

“See, that’s why you’re the perfect Princess, smart and sexy…”

You felt him start to harden in your ass again, wriggling and letting out a giggle as you felt him stretch your insides;

“Over the table or out on the balcony in the rain?” you asked

“Oooh lets do the balcony… its check out time so a few other guests will be able to see my little slut have her battered asshole filled with another load”

There on the balcony that overlooked the serene mountains August filled your ass again, your naked bodies soaked with the rain as he gripped your breasts whilst he fucked you from behind.

You couldn’t wait to be August’s play thing.

#august walker #august walker x reader #august walker smut #henry cavill

741 notes · View notes

princeescaluswords · 2 years

Note

One reason i like Liam a lot is that it allows Scott and stiles to chill a little

Like, don't get me wrong, S4 is stressful, but from what u see if Scott and stiles, they're more.... Relaxed? Than usual when they deal w him

Like, scott is trying to be a good alpha ( which is already better than Derek) and, even if he doesn't nail it 100% of the time, it's still good.

Stiles is still an asshole, I'll be the first to admit that, but he's more or the harmless asshole from S1 and S2, not the toxicity he can show in other times, and the time he helps Liam w the alpha beta omega is cool

And i think the reason why is that a new bitten werewolf os something they've dealt with and know relatively well

Scott is for Liam what he didn't have ( an alpha who genuinely wants to help) and stiles, as much of an asshole he is, he's also good at making situations less stressful, if only bcs liam wants to punch him instead of wolfing out. They know what they're doing here

Odk where i was going w this, but i love the scott liam stiles interactions

You have some interesting observations, but there two things I wanted to point out for closer examination.

The production didn't imply that Scott was trying to be a good alpha; the production showed that Scott was a good alpha, right off the bat. Even if he panicked. Especially because he panicked.

First off, Scott bit Liam for Liam's sake, not for his own benefit. As contrived as you might think the situation is, Scott bit Liam solely to save Liam. He didn't need more power. He didn't feel the push to expand his pack in order to defend himself. It was either bite Liam or watch Liam fall from the roof and die.

Already he's got one up on Peter and Derek.

Second, and this is just as important, when Scott panicked after biting Liam, he, at first, kidnapped him, but then he immediately called for help from Stiles. It was clearly that very same night. He didn't, out of misplaced fear or pride, refuse to tell anyone what he had done.

Compare that to Derek's insistence that he knows what he's doing, which you can see clearly in Venomous (2x05) when Scott tries to talk Derek out of murdering Lydia on the lacrosse pitch. Scott accuses Derek of biting Jackson, of biting him to kill him, and of not having any idea why he didn't change. Boyd, standing next to Derek, gives his alpha a WTF look. He obviously didn't know any of this. Derek kept that from his own betas, which no doubt contributed to Boyd decided to take his chances elsewhere later in the season.

It's this willingness to believe in others, to rely on others, that makes Scott a superior alpha. I've seen members of the fandom talk about Scott's pack "not being a real pack" because they don't train or there isn't a clear chain of command or a clearly defined territory, but that's not really a pack. That's a paramilitary unit. Pack is being there for each other and helping each other, the very definition of found family. In Season 5, Theo attacks the pack by pushing each member into isolation.

Scott has learned from Peter's, Derek's, and Deucalion's negative examples right from the start.

As for Stiles? I've always said I like Stiles the best in Season 4. He's still a fiercely-loving asshole. He can still be cruel in his exasperation "Gave powers to a walking time bomb." He still lies in order to protect people; it's his major plot arc with Malia. He still can be recklessly brave and decidedly stubborn. What's missing from this season is the production's implication that he should be able to do this without consequence or correction.

Stiles is an extraordinarily internally consistent character as written and brilliantly portrayed. My problem is he gets the same treatment in most of the seasons that Entitled White Males have been getting ever since I started thinking about media critically: no one is allowed to react negatively to their actions without being portrayed as mean or wrong.

Think about it Scott gets condemned for his mistakes -- most often by Stiles but also by Allison, his mother, and Derek among others. Their criticism of him -- such as in Ouroboros (5x08) -- is very seldom portrayed as out of line or even questionable. But Stiles can literally use his dead mother as a weapon against his father in The Girl Who Knew Too Much (3x09) and it's the Sheriff who is shown to be in the wrong. Stiles gives the "some of us are human" speech in Lies of Omission (5x09), simply as a psychological deflection, and Scott is the one who needs to earn forgiveness.

I suspect that the reason Stiles seems less toxic to you in Season 4 is that his entitlement has been reduced. (Though in my opinion, not erased.)

Something to think about.

#scott mccall #true alpha #anti stiles stilinski #scott mccall defense squad #teen wolf season 4

35 notes · View notes

allronix · 3 years

Text

Carth and Force Sensitivity (crossposted from Reddit r/kotor)

This is for @k-she-rambles:

Okay, so while we're shooting the bantha crap over on KOTOR fan theories, u/134340Goat mentioned my all time favorite "Have you been chewing spice?!" fan theory when it comes to KOTOR: Is Carth Force Sensitive?

So this one starts with a story. I mentioned my brother in law, who is pretty much Keeper of the Jedi Archives. Seriously, he's an English teacher and my sister is a librarian. They met at a sci fi convention and their first date was Phantom Menace. We're taking not just geeks, but geeks who can throw the damn bookshelf at you. Brother in law bought KOTOR on the day it launched and turned it into a week long binge watch at his house. And because brother in law is that kind of geek, he's translating the characters into the West End D6 system. I'm watching him do a playthrough, and he's got Canderous and Zaalbar at Ajunta Pal's tomb.

Allronix: Huh. That's odd. Why aren't commenting on anything when Ajunta is speaking?

Bro in law: Oh. They can't even see Ajunta. You have to be Force Sensitive to see a Force Ghost The stronger your Sensitivity, the better you can see it.

Allronix: Really? Then how come Carth can see it?

Bro in law (gets the "holy shit, I gotta confirm this" look): Really?! He just sees something out the corner of his eye or something?

Allronix: No, he sees Ajunta just fine. Understands what the dude's saying too.

Bro in law instantly rolls back to his last save, swaps Zaalbar for Carth, and sees the bit in question.

Bro in law: Oh. Dear. (Goes over to make some quick scribbles on Carth's character sheet)

Okay, so maybe that was a lore fail. I didn't really think about it too much until I hit that False Level Up glitch and ran around with Carth and Mission as Sentinels. Now, while I couldn't really see Mission as a Sensitive, that little bit with my bro in law nagged at me. And became a "once you see it you can't unsee it." Apologies to TV Tropes, where some of these were my additions to the Wild Mass Guess entry on this topic.

Any one of these on its own is pretty easy to blow off. After all, man is career military, and knows All this Shit is Weird. I also like to think of Sensitivity as a spectrum and not a switch. If all life is connected by the Force, then all life would be Sensitive to some degree or another. It’s just a matter of to what degree. It’s only as the list gets longer and longer does the case start looking damning...

What are the odds of surviving that attack on the Endar Spire, getting to the escape pods, sharing the last escape pod with the mindwiped Sith Lord, piloting through the chaos, landing in what passes for the "good" part of town, remaining uninjured, pulling the badly injured mindwiped Sith Lord from the wreck, evading Sith detection while all this is going on, and just happening to find a dump of an apartment where the landlord's not asking questions? That is one amazing string of coincidences and good luck. Get that many in Star Wars, and it's definitely The Force sticking its nose in things.

Piloting the escape pod to land in the Upper City, piloting the Hawk through the Sith Blockade of Taris, the random Sith patrols, the escape from the Leviathan, and the fleet around Lehon along with the crash landing that left the ship easily repairable. Now, compare to Atton who we know to be an excellent pilot and drawing on The Force who still manages to crash the ship at least three times.

He's a scary good judge of character if you're interacting with other NPCs. If you watch him with other NPC characters, he's got a pretty good compass as to which characters are being helpful and which ones are full of shit. The only one he calls incorrectly is Rukil, who is probably also an untrained Sensitive (the age, the "marked" comments) and half senile, which is probably throwing him.

Related to that, his distrust and wariness about something not adding up with the PC, the Jedi Council feeding the party a line of bull, that things just aren't adding up. And on all of it? Dead on. He's 100% right about the Player Character, he just expected something a little less crazy than "that's Darth freaking Revan."

If you play Female Revan, then Carth's the one who gets fried in the torture cages on the Leviathan. Saul comments how strange it is that Carth takes so much punishment and still remains conscious. Now, this is a low level thing, but in lore, Force Sensitives have drawn on it to keep them alive or conscious under duress. Explicitly, the first sign we got that Leia was a Sensitive when she withstood the Imperial torture droid.

Another of his scary ass judge of character feats? In the comics, Zayne (who is on the run from the Jedi, who framed him for the murder of his classmates) has a vision that Mandalorians are coming for Serroco. Saul? Laughs it off, throws Zayne in the brig. Zayne's own friends don't even believe him. Carth gets one of those creepy hunches and starts calling in "duck and cover" sirens as far as he can broadcast, which sends seventeen cities and millions of people heading for shelter. It saves their lives and Carth is called a hero for it. Armed with another hunch, he disobeys Saul (remember this is before Saul nukes Telos) and lets Zayne "escape" from custody. Mind you, not even the Jedi or his party members believed Zayne. Carth did.

Carth makes a lot of creepy weird offhand predictions about the future. He says he knows on some level he'll be there when Saul dies. That certainly pans out. He makes an offhand prediction that the Jedi have set the party up to take a fall. Right again. He tells a female PC that she'll have to make a choice soon, one she can't walk away from. And then we get the temple top. He even blurts out that "I sensed you would have to make a choice soon, and that was it*, I can feel it!"* If you specify a LS Female Revan, his recording for T3-M4 says he's had a hunch Revan would leave without warning. Again, spot on.

Specify a LS male Revan, and Carth will remark to Bastila that seeing the Exile reminds him "there are worse things to lose." The only other people who can see just how screwed up the Exile is are the Jedi Masters, Chodo Habat, and the Force Sensitive party members.

Specify a LS female Revan, and Carth will insist that he would know if Revan were dead (again, scary ass intuition) and that there's an "emptiness" where she used to be. Now, remember one of the things about a broken Force Bond? It would simply be "empty, a wound."

You know how your party members in KOTOR 2 feel upset or even horrified as they realize they feel compelled to protect Exile and can't being themselves to leave, even when said actions are kicking puppies? And how they swing wildly from being crazy, almost stalker level possessive of them to being scared out of their wits and clamming up when you try to pry anything out of them? And the more potent (and untapped) their Force Sensitivity, the more they get hammered with the effect? (Mira and Atton in particular) Yeah. Now, Carth's "I don't wanna talk" looks a bit different, doesn't it? It could also account for that romance arc, especially if you roll a DSF Revan and go for that "everyone dies" ending.

Again, Ajunta Pal. Seeing a Force Ghost? Yeah. Some degree of Sensitivity needed. Understanding what he's saying? Yeah. Takes a bit more than that. And Carth makes a weirdly insightful comment about the Dark Side on top of it.

Notice that this a wall o text argument already, and I'm now just getting to the "Yeah, his kid is able to throw around mid-level Dark Side powers and packing a red lightsaber." Given the jawline and the muleheaded attitude, no way Morgana was fooling around with the pizza delivery boy. That's definitely Carth's kid, and that's definitely Force Sensitivity. Now, while it can skip a generation (see Theron Shan), it tends to run pretty heavy in families.

Lastly? Gee. He comes from a planet settled by and heavily populated by descendants of Force Sensitives who failed their training. I'm also willing to bet some bastard children of Jedi get passed off as "foundlings" and "orphans" and dumped there, too. Jedi are forbidden attachments, but not sworn to celibacy, so...yeah, bastard kids are gonna happen. There's probably a Jedi or two in that family tree. It's circumstantial evidence at best, but it still supports the case.

Now, any arguments I missed? Counterarguments?

And the million credit question: If there's a character who gets to break this news to poor Flyboy, who do you think would actually take that on? How do you think Carth would take that kind of news? And what, if anything, would come of it?

I kinda figure Jolee might be the only one nuts enough to poke that with a stick...I also kinda figure "Sentinel" would fit best. Consular? Hell no. He hired Mical for that. Guardian works with the feats, but the whole "ferreting out deceit and injustice?" Yeah. That's Carth.

#KOTOR #Carth #fandom meta #Carth Onasi

76 notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 3 years

Text

Ch. 4 ~ NSFW ~ Trafalgar Law x F! Maid! Reader ~ A Dangerous Attraction.

AU : Mafia AU. Mafia boss Law. He IS a murderer.

TW: BLOOD. Mafia & murderers. Graphic depictions of violence. Smut. Explicit. Making love. Vaginal sex. Impregnation. Self harm. Marks, bites. Mental health issues. Trauma. Fluff. Angst.

WC: 4.2K

Chapters: one ; two; three; four; five; final

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33273136

Tag list: @rivvd-art ; @chocokaylarobin ; @fantasyfairysworld ♥

“Law!!”

“Name-ya…”

Inked fingers squeezing around your wrist, your body hanging into the void. You try to climb, but little rocks fall every time you try to use your feet to push yourself up. The desperation and Law is simply not moving, he is just holding you. If he wanted, he could let go of you and you would fall instantly. If he wanted, he could kill you and no one would know. If he wanted…

“Law! Pull me up!” you shout, with tears in your eyes. He is not listening; Law is completely frozen. His eyes opened wide; he doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe. His jaw muscles are clenched. Your arm hurts, the only thing that is keeping you alive is Law grabbing you.

“Law don’t let me fall. Save me…” you beg with tears sprouting from your eyes. “LAW!!!” you shout. The time passes so slowly, so painfully scary.

Suddenly he blinks quickly and pushes you up. Your body falls over his, you are safe now. Law hugs you; he starts crying. Your head rests over his chest, but quickly try to release yourself from his arms. “Let me go!” you shout, in distress.

Law stops hugging you and you stand up, trembling, still crying. You take your hand to your wrist, massaging the fingertips marks he has left over your skin. “I’m… you don’t understand. I didn’t…” he tries to tell you, but he fails as he stutters nervously.

“I wanna go home. My home” you tell him and start walking back through the path. You almost run; you can feel him walking behind you. Law is sobbing, he can’t stop crying. You hear some scratching noises, but you decide not to look back. If you dared to even look at him, you’ll pity him and forgive what just happened.

But something stops you, you hear a loud noise and a whining. A painful whining. You turn around, and there is Law, kneeling on the ground, right arm bleeding from the scratches he has made on himself, swollen eyes from all the crying. He keeps violently scratching his skin, and he can’t stop.

“What the hell?!” you shout and run to him. You crunch next to him and grab his arm, “Stop doing that. You are hurting yourself”. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it…” he says repeatedly. “Stop, please. You are bleeding” you tell him, holding his arm. He puts his forehead over your chest imploring forgiveness. Your shirt gets damp by his tears. A mafia boss crying like this, so weak…

“Why didn’t you pull me up instantly, Law?” you ask all of a sudden. You know that whatever he says won’t stop you from running away from him, but that question escapes your mouth unintentionally. “I… I’m… my dad. My uncle…” he stutters. “What happened?” you ask. “My uncle… killed my dad. Doflamingo pushed him by the same hill. I was in the car looking at everything. My uncle said my dad slipped away because he was clumsy, but he didn’t. He pushed him. And I saw everything. And didn’t say anything, I was afraid. My… dad…I was seven”. And suddenly everything makes sense… he was facing his trauma, but he never let you fall. He saved you… once again.

You hug him so close, poor thing. You caress his black hair, rocking him back and forth. “It’s ok, it’s ok…” you repeat. A few minutes after he stops crying, “I’m sorry” he says, nuzzled on your chest.

“It’s ok, Law…”

But you can’t take this anymore. You are going to end up dying if you stay next to him. You definitely are.

Both walk back to the cabin, you start packing your stuff leaving only the maid costume over the big, still undone, bed. Sitting on the mattress you take out the photo of your family and look at it. In the photo you see your sisters, your mom and you in your father’s arms. It’s your birthday. Behind, a tall man running with a little boy wearing a white hat. You don’t really remember their faces. You only remember that man was your father’s partner. Both policemen. They were fighting against organised crime. After your dad was shot, you never hear anything else from his partner, nor the little kid. But you keep focusing on your family, and those happy times. You were smiling so joyfully, so naive…

You hear the surgeon at the door, and quickly put the photo on your pocket. There is no way you let a mafia boss see the face of your family members. It’s just too risky...

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” asks Law, now with a white bandage around his scratched arm. “I am sure, please take me back to my apartment” you tell him. “(Name)-ya, please, stay at my house. I promise I won’t talk to you” he says, tears building up in his eyes. But you remain strong. “Please…I need time to be on my own” you tell him as if you were begging him to stop insisting. You don’t know how much you are gonna go without succumbing to the dangerous attraction he represents to you.

“At least let me keep you safe, I won’t visit you, I won’t call you. But please, stay in one of my apartments. I beg you” he finally says, approaching you. You back up instantly, somehow him touching you, scares you.

“Fine” you finally accept. He is right, if you dare to come back to that apartment you might be in danger. Law eyes sparkle, he breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, thank you so much” he says, approaching you once again as he was trying to hug you.

“Stop. Don’t touch me” you command. He freezes right away, the smile in his face is gone once again. “I’m sorry, I’ll be in the car waiting for you” he says, crestfallen and walks away. Your heart aches at him leaving the door, but you know too well this is the best decision you could have taken.

Once everything is set, and you are ready, you go downstairs. You give a last peek to the cabin, the place where Law and you let your passions go wild for the first time… a place where he almost chokes you to death… Closing the door behind you, you were sure this was the last time you would ever be in this place.

Opening the door of that amazing black car, you throw your bag on the backseat and sit next to Law. He is wearing black shades, tears falling through his cheeks. He is not speaking; he swallows and hits the gas. You don’t dare to look at him, so your head is turned towards the window. The magnificent forest, nature, a place where you’ve been the happiest… and the sudden memories of you almost losing your life for the second time…

No more than an hour passes, and you are already on the highway. The radio makes the painful silence a little less uncomfortable. A slowed cover of “We Found Love” by Rihanna playing.

“As your shadow crosses mine, what it takes to come alive.

It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny. But I've gotta let it go.

We found love in a hopeless place…

Shine a light through an open door. Love and life I will divide.

Turn away 'cause I need you more”

“Tsk…” you express. “Hum?” he asks. “Nothing…”. There was no interaction, nothing. Law’s cheeks damped. Nose red from all the crying.

“(Name)-ya… would you prefer the 6th or the 8th floor?” he asks, sniffling. “Whatever you want, it’s ok for me either way” you tell him, feeling ashamed. You are leaving him, but still living on his property… this shouldn’t happen. “Ok… Then the 8th floor. It has a big terrace” he tells you and touches the screen of the car.

“Bepo, Law here”

“Law, I’m Pen. Tell me”

“Oh, Penguin. Please take all the (Name)-ya’s stuff to Swallow inns, the eighth floor”.

“Yes, boss. Are you ok? You need us to take some of your stuff too?”

“Just hers… oh, don’t forget the Kia”

Law hangs up before his friend could say anything else. His voice clearly shows how much he’s been crying; he knows his friend would ask. You simply ignore everything he says, you don’t really want to hear even though he is speaking via Bluetooth.

After two hours, you arrive at a luxurious apartment complex over the beach. A big sign that says “Swallow Inn” announces that this is the place you are gonna be living from now on. “Damn” you think, how the fuck your life changed so much that you ended up living in such a place…

“(Name)-ya, this is the place where the apartment is located. Our… your parking spot is the number 18” he informs you. “Uhm, ok…” you say, because you don’t even have a bicycle to park in there, but hey, thanks for the information. But, when you arrive at the said parking spot, a little black car is parked there. “Nice, someone parked on your spot” you say, sarcastically.

“It’s yours…” he says. “What? No” you categorically express. “Please, accept it. This place is far from the city, and there are no bus stops nearby. Please” he insists. “Ok…” you accept, even though you are sure you are not gonna use that car.

Law takes your stuff from the backseat and tells you to follow him inside. The place is modern, everything is clean, luxurious, white, pure. “Eighth floor” he says and presses the little 8th button of the elevator and a code. “Remember, you should enter this number so you can enter home, ok?”. You don’t speak, and just nod.

The doors open inside the apartment, again everything is so white and pure. Your stuff is already in place. Big windows show the immense sea ahead. Everything is perfect, so for rich people. “Law, this place is amazing. You sure you want me to live here?” you ask.

Law turns around, takes his sunglasses off. Swollen red eyes, more dark circles than ever. He fixes his grey irises on yours. “I’d rather you live with me. But this is the best second option I have to keep you safe”. You keep looking at him, you can’t take your eyes off him. It hurts so much, even more than the bruises on your wrist, on your neck… your heart shouts “stay with me”; but your head says no… no, or you are gonna end up dying.

“By the way, this is your phone. I recommend you use this one, it’s safer. Not for me, but for you” he says, lending you a mobile phone that’s over the breakfast nook. “Thanks” you nod and your fingers graze when gabbing the phone. How hard is this…

“Well, I know you want me to go, but, if you ever need me… just, call me. Ok?” says Law, taking his hand to your cheek, but quickly stopping himself. “Wait” you say and grab his hand to your face. He gasps but grazes your skin. You close your eyes and let your head rest over his palm for a moment.

“Thank you, Law… Give me some time, please” you whisper. “I’ll be waiting for you…” he says, and a few moments later he is gone. The elevator doors close, and your legs finally turn weak. You fall on your knees. You haven’t cried until now, and now you do. Tears won’t stop falling from your eyes to the marbled floor.

“Law…”

----

After all your tears have dry, you start looking around the apartment. Your bedroom is bigger than your ex-house. The bed looks just as the one Law has in his room. Satin sheets and white fluffy covers.

A wardrobe full of your clothes, old and some new outfits they bought you from the finest brands. And next to your clothes, men's ones. “Are these Law’s?”.

You can’t help but take one of his t shirts. You choose a yellow one, with black sleeves. “It has his smell…” you say, while taking the cloth to your nose. “I don’t think he would mind if I use it…” you say and put the shirt on. It has some kind of a smiley face stamped on it, and you wonder what it means.

The night comes, and your stomach growls. The fridge is full of ingredients, Law’s subordinates are so efficient. You cook a vegetable wok that you devour right away. The place is way too big for you, but it is what it is.

You inspect the new phone he gave you, such modern and pretty. You decide to pass all your photos from your old one to it. Same as the numbers. “I should call mum…” you think, remembering about the money. Where are you going to find any money to send them? “I can’t go back to the old bar; I’ll search for work tomorrow”.

“Hi, mum?”

“Darling!! I’ve been calling you, but you don’t seem to pick up. Is everything alright? Why are you calling from a private number?”

“It’s my new phone, I don’t know how to take it off. I will ask a friend to help me, and I’ll send you my number mum. Don’t worry” you lie. “How are you? How are the girls?

“Fine baby, but are you alright? You sound so sad…”

“I’m fine mum!! I moved! I will send you the address via text, ok? You should come someday! I have a sea view now!!” You act all excited, just for her not to worry, but moms know better…

“If you need mum, come spend some days with us darling. Ok?”

“Yes mum, I’m ok. I’ll be visiting you soon!” You lie once again, choking back tears.

The conversation is soon over, and after hanging up, tears run free. “I hate lying to my mum. Damn it. Damn Law…” you grunt, while searching for the picture of your family on your pocket.

“Where the fuck…?” You say, while searching for it desperately in your jean’s pockets. No sign of the photo, and you start to panic. The last photo you have with your dad, your seventh birthday…

“Don’t tell me I lost it, please!!!” You shout and start to look for it everywhere. Every place, every square. You can’t stop crying. You just can’t… something so precious to you.

“That’s what happens when you hang with the mafia… karma” you tell yourself before falling asleep, crying.

You wake up several times during the night, as nightmares invade your dreams. Law’s scratched arms, his eyes, the feeling of falling into the void. The day the police came to your house to tell your family, someone killed your dad. The way Law choked you… the way his hands were around your neck, the way his hips moved in and out of you, the way his kisses make you feel…

“Stop right there, (Name)” you say to yourself looking at the ceiling. How can you feel horny, huh? Are you crazy? “What’s wrong with me…?”. You know what’s wrong, of course you do. You are in love with Law and can’t deny it anymore. Your body misses him, you miss his scent, you are using his damn shirt to bed. You miss him so much; you are hugging a pillow pretending it is him.

Standing up from bed, you look through the big window of your room. The sea seems calm, sun is peeking from the horizon, still lazily resting until dawn. You sigh and say, “I fucking miss you… why aren’t you here?”.

Ding, Dong…

The sophisticated sound of the doorbell resonates all over the loft. “Fuck” you think, they’ve found you… Am I in danger? Should I call Law? Bepo? You tremble and walk towards the intercom.

Ding, Dong…

“Fuck” … you slowly pick up the phone of the intercom, and the little screen next to it turns on. The image of Law, a distressed Law appears. “What the fuck? I told him to give me some space…” you think, but he signs desperately for you to open.

“Law, what are you doing here?” You ask via the phone.

“Open, please, I have something important to show and tell you, I didn’t want to enter with my code” he says and shows a little square paper. Your most precious treasure, your family photo. You widen your eyes, “enter the code, come on”.

A minute passes and the door of the inside elevator opens. Law is standing right there; he looks like a mess. This must be the third night he hasn’t slept.

“Can I?” He asks for permission to even step into your -his- apartment. “Come in. Do you have my pic?” You ask ignoring the fact of wearing his shirt and only that over your body.

“Yes, but… I need to show you something about it” Law says, while looking at you up and down with a sweet expression. “Let’s sit, this is important” he insists. So, both of you sit on the couch. Law takes your photo out of his jacket pocket and puts it over the coffee table. “This is your photo, right?” He asks. “Yes, thank you!! Where was it?” You tell, but before you could take it, he stops your arm. “Wait… it was over the car seat. But, please, look at this…” he says and puts another photo next to it.

“L-Law…”

“I didn’t know, I promise”

“It can’t be, was your dad…?

“Yes, it was” …

Both of you start crying, recognizing how linked both of you are…

Law takes his finger to your cheek, wiping a single tear. You do the same, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “Don’t…” you tell him, and you two hug. Pressing your bodies, you find the comfort, the warmth of home. That feeling you only experience when you know you are safe…

Your faces so close, your eyes fixed. The sun slowly rising, invading the place with lilac and orangey tones. Law is fighting not to kiss you, and you frankly too.

“Fuck it” you whisper and plant a sweet kiss over his lips. And that’s the spark you two needed to become fire. You set all your zipper free, no more clothes. You sit over his lap, both kissing so passionately, tongues playing with each other’s. Law cries, you cry. But you two smile pressing your foreheads.

You see how the scratches on his arm became scars already. You grab his arm and kiss softly over each wound. “Don’t do this ever again, please. If you have the need, talk to me, tell me, I’ll be there to help you…” you tell him, looking straight into his soul. Poor thing…

“I missed you” he says. “I missed you, too” you tell him. Even if you haven’t seen each other for some hours, your souls missed each other so much. You kiss him so relieved… your head keeps telling you stop, until the arousal drowns every single sign of reason.

Law gabs your thighs and stands up, carrying you to the bed. He softly puts you over the mattress, and he settles over your body. Gently kissing your neck, Law takes his time. His hands grazing your breasts so softly. “I want to make sweet love to you, I want to be gentle, I want it slow” he says, because he doesn’t want to hurt you. You smile and take your hands to his face. “Do it slow and do it faster. Do it gentle, and do it rough…make love to me, Law” you tell him.

His “death” hands travel from your neck to your waist, and even lower. His fingers buried on your hips as his mouth reaches your sex. “Spread, babe” he asks with a soft tone. You do it right away. “Good girl, now put your legs over my shoulders”. And so, you do.

Law’s mouth attacks your core, licking, tasting, devouring your juices. He little by little kneels on the bed, pushing you up. Your legs are still over his shoulders, he has better access to your core as he keeps giving you the best oral sex you ever experienced. You grab the sheets, pull from them, as your climax begins to arrive. Law presses your lower belly, while he sucks your clit. “Come on, come for me” he says, muzzled by your anatomy.

You are about to burst, and Law penetrates you with his middle finger and ring finger. The licking, the pressure, the fingering… you come, squirting, bathing his whole torso with your juices, as they come out with such pressure Law is not able to receive it all with his mouth.

“Such a good girl” he says, letting your legs over the mattress. You are panting, that position somehow made everything better… “L-Law…?” you mumble, still trembling from the orgasm you just had.

“What, baby?” He asks while wiping the rest of your climax off his chin with the back of his hand. “Don’t you ever stop fucking me like this” you tell him, so naturally, so unplanned.

“I won't, I won't ever stop”.

Law lays in bed, next to him, enjoying how you come back to normal, and the blushed on your cheeks that screams how good your orgasm felt. But he wants more, and of course, you too.

“Come here” he says and helps you to turn around. He is spooning you; you feel his hard member over your glutes. Law passes his right arm under your neck, and the left one reaches your left nipple. He pinches it, twists it. Law takes his index to your mouth and makes you suck it. “Wet it real good” he commands. Your teeth graze the E tattooed on his finger while sucking it so sexily.

The same finger, shiny from your saliva, is now tracing circles again over your nipple. You moan, it feels so good. He gropes you with his dick, your back feels the warmth of his inked chest. You push your ass against his member, trapping it in between both cheeks. Law grunts, and moves up and down, frotting his hard shaft over your rear entrance.

Your hand reaches for the surgeon’s hip. You carve your nails on his skin, pulling you even closer to you.

“Fuck me, fuck me now”. “If that’s what you want…” he says, while he bites your neck. The hand that was playing with your nipple now grabs his dick. He aligns it with your entrance, lubricating the tip with your dripping arousal. He slaps the shaft against your labia, forming strings of precum mixed with your juices.

His gland playfully hits your clit, and you squirm with it. But you burn with the need of being penetrated, filled by him. “I want you inside, please” you beg. “You want me inside? How much do you want it?” Law says pressing his mouth against your cheek, his beard grazing your skin. “Fill me up, I want it so bad. Fuck me, now…” you whine.

“Ok, my darling. Just because my shirt suits you so well” he says and kissing the side of your mouth he penetrates you so slow, little by little stretching your walls. The feeling of the tip going in and out, without fully penetrating you deep, sends you to heaven as it grazes your g spot. You can only whine his name, feeling as he gradually goes deeper, in and out.

You can feel Law’s wicked smile over your cheek as he finally penetrates you to the deepest point he can reach. Your walls clench around his member as he speeds up the pace. “Babe, you feel so good, so tight” he moans in your ear. The sound of his voice could kill you if it was meant for it.

You moan soundly, sure the neighbours could hear you, but unable to hold back as Law is now fucking you mercilessly. Soon the climax road is taken, and you are sure getting to it.

“I want to see your face while you come” Law says, and quickly turns you around. Classic missionary position, the most perfect man over you, his whole anatomy, sweating, panting.

Law puts your arms up your head, grabbing your wrists together. His body lean over you while he pounds into you, violent, deliciously thrusts. The way the muscles of his torso tightens when his hips move in and out are art, the finest piece of art you have ever seen.

And inevitably, both of you reach orgasms. This time, Law focused on your face, he didn’t bite his lip, he didn’t choke you, he didn’t lose track of reality. Law this time was being driven by love, by the only need of loving you, of making you happy… of not losing you.

You come, and so does he. Law fills you with his creamy seed. He collapses over you, still with his dick inside you, pushing his milk deep in you. Returning his breathing back to normal, he whispers into your ear “I think I’m still in love with you”.

“Still? What do you mean?” You ask, confused...

CH.5

106 notes · View notes

starglow-xx · 3 years

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 4)

platonic! mori ougai x f!reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

previous: the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

author’s note: it’s port mafia time! ages are still one year younger than canon

also!! my 100 followers event still has 7 5 4 3 2 1 spot open for requests!! go check out this post for more info!! i’d like to get the whole prompt list done early so i have time to write them! (event is now closed as of feb. 10, 2021)

another doctor? oh wait, another doctor and his daughter

as you expected, ranpo and fukuzawa have not let you go easy after what had happened a couple days prior (3 days ago to be exact)

one of them, or more often than not, the two of them would go visit the bakery at least twice a day

once in the morning right before opening, and the second time right before closing

if they could, they would visit around lunch time, but that was usually yosano

tbh you were thankful that yosano hasn’t been as overbearing as the other two but you knew she probably wanted to give you a break because holy shit are they extremely over protective

currently, it was the fourth day of being watched by the two eldest ada members, but there were no said ada members with you at the moment

and boy were you overjoyed

turns out, the ada has an important escort job for a government official or smth, and on top of that, fukuzawa has a bunch of meetings to attend

even ranpo has his hands full with a couple of difficult murder cases across the country

you’re lowkey, no highkey, worried bc you learned literally 3 days ago that ranpo doesn’t know how to ride the train 😀😀

you were worried abt them, there’s no question, but on the inside you were a bit relieved to which ranpo called you out on it immediately

that led to the two of you going at each other’s throats for nearly half an hour

let’s just say fukuzawa scolded the two fo you for a while

going back to the present, it was around one pm and you had just finished sending a text message to both fukuzawa and ranpo (cause they insisted) when a little blonde girl with blue eyes wearing a red dress matching with a red bow in her hair and red shoes walked in

she immediately went to the glass case to look at the desserts displayed

as she looked around, you watched her at the corner of your eyes and a with a smile as you wiped down one of the tables

after wiping down the table, you quickly went to go wash your hands and you walked over and stood next to her

you bent slightly and smiled bigger as she stared at one of the treats in the glass

“is that the one you want?”

she nodded without looking away from the glass

you giggled before going to the back and placing the one she wanted on the plate and held it out to her

the blonde was honestly so confused bc one, no adult supervision, and two, there was no tell tale way to know that she had money

to you, she was an open book so when she looked at you, her face immediately read “but i have no money, or a parent...??”

you simply patted her head and pushed along to one of the nearby tables and pulled a chair for her

you did not regret anything when you saw the look on her face when you told her that it was on the house

“name’s elise!” “i’m (y/n)!”

you sat with her for a while continuing to give her sweets she reminded you of ranpo in all honestly and talking abt random things

she mostly complained abt a “rintarou” though

speaking of which, when a man in a doctor’s coat came through the door near screaming “elise-chan! elise-chan!” you figured that was probably the rintarou she was complaining abt

you smiled as you watched the two interact

“elise-chan why would just disappear like that?!”

“i wanted to see rintarou cry”

“so mean!”

...their behavior was questionable but endearing ig

“rintarou” suddenly turned to you, thanking you for “taking care of his daughter bc she’s always getting into trouble”

*cue angry noises and face from elise*

he introduced himself as a “local neighborhood doctor”

you smelled bullshit but didn’t say anything bc he has been kind to you so far

he asked you how he could repay you and you were thinking that you can actually win something bc you’re not refusing an ada member oh you poor oblivious child but you were appalled when elise answered for you

it went like this

“is there anything i can repay you with for taking care of my dear elise-chan? perhaps paying for all the sweets she has eaten?”

“oh no! don’t worry abt that, it’s nothing! it was a pleasure getting to know—”

“let’s buy out all of her food!”

h u h

you knew she enjoyed your pastries and stuff but like w h a t

you inwardly sigh in relief when the doctor agreed with you that “that’s a bit much elise-chan” and you were thanking every deity out there when suddenly

she threw a temper tantrum

you watched in confusion and slight horror at the 180 of the sweet little girl you were talking to like 10 minutes ago

her guardian panicked slightly and tried to get her to calm down but ahaha no that didn’t happen

“WAHH rintarou!! but i want it!! (y/n)’s food is the best i’ve ever had!!”

“b-but elise-chan, we can’t just buy—”

“i’ll wear all the dresses i’ve ever rejected and more if we buy it out right now and keep buying sweets here forever”

“...deal”

your eyes twitch at the “innocent” smiles the two gave you after their “talk”

fast forward literally 5 minutes and you’ve already flipped the close sign on your door with note (saying you’re sold out) and you’re all over the place running around behind the counter trying to fit everything into boxes as the two are sitting on a nearby table lightly chatting

about 20-25, nearly 30 minutes later you finishing packing everything in the glass case

it was a lot

we’re literally talking about tiered cakes and dozens of batches of cookies, cupcakes, literally everything and anything

when the two notice you’re done they get up meet you by the register

“a-ano, you really don’t have to buy all of this...the total is going to be quite large...”

“no worries!”

honestly at this point, you kind of missed the chaotic calls from ranpo that happened like every half hour

you thought you were done being surprised for the day but next thing you know men in suits come into Sakura’s and begin to load the boxes into a black car

dealing with the detectives was already starting to be a handful and now you have to deal whoever the hell these two people where

quite frankly, you were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this

like-

who buys out a whole bakery?!

and who has the money to buy out a whole bakery?!

what kind of job could you possibly have?!

was this guy really just a doctor?!

right before the two leave you call out to them

“a-ah wait! i don’t think i ever caught your name!”

the two blink at you before eyeing each other

“mori ougai” 😄😄

you started smelling bad shits again

>:/

it was a weird feeling

you felt something off but at the same time, you weren’t really afraid

and with that the two left

you were already tired from this whole thing but you now get the rest of the day off

so i guess something worked out in your favor

until the next fricking day

again, ranpo and fukuzawa canceled out on you

you weren’t sure if you were relieved or not

and as soon as you thought you were going to have a normal business day, guess who walked through the doors

yeah that’s right

“the local neighborhood doctor” and his daughter

you froze before eyeing them with suspicion

if mori was amused, he didn’t show it, only giving you a smile

elise immediately left his side and practically leaped onto you making you cut yourself with the knife you were holding

well shit now you’re bleeding

it was only 7:15 in the morning; you had literally just opened

you were cursing every deity out there

you quickly grab a nearby and press it against your wound and scrambled around looking for the first aid kit you had nearby

“oh? (y/n)-kun are you bleeding?”

“(y/n) i’m sorry!”

“a-ah, no worries elise-chan”

you really need to stop spacing out bc next thing you know, the sign on your door is flipped to close again (along with the same note from yesterday explaining you’re sold out taped on the door) and you’re sitting at a table with elise in your lap and mori wrapping your hand in a bandage

“tsk tsk (y/n)-kun you need to be more careful...but it is elise-chan’s fault”

“die rintarou!”

“but no worries! it’s not that deep so you don’t need stitches”

“thank you, mori-san, but can i ask why you and elise-chan are here again? not that i mind...”

whether or not you were lying is up to you

“oh we’re here to buy out your stock again!”

“wait what-”

the fuck???

did they not just buy everything yesterday???

frozen, you stare at the man in front if you with said man giving you another “innocent” smile

this little shit

wait till you meet dazai

but i guess that’s why the sign on the door is flipped to close bc you don’t even remember flipping it yourself or taping the note from yesterday to the door

you spent the next half hour trying to convince the two over some tea (your signature one of course) that “no you don’t need to or should buy everything i have, you’re going to deprive the rest of my customers”

cough cough ranpo

like the day before, you were losing this argument

can you just never win?

as you were losing the argument (obviously) you realized that you don’t even know why they want to buy everything again

“mori-san, why do the two of you even want to buy everything in the first place?”

“ah it was elise-chan’s request of course! but i do admit, after trying some of your sweets myself, i grew quite attached! so did the rest of my subordinates after my precious elise-chan made them try it, not like they could refuse her or me; i am their boss after all (y/n)-kun.”

*cue confusion*

“subordinates? wait are those the guys from yesterday?? aren’t you a doctor...?”

“ah ex-doctor actually, i’m the leader of the port mafia”

...

“ah (y/n)-kun that’s quite the coughing fit you have going on, do you need water?”

if it wasn’t obvious, you choked on your tea and had quite the coughing fit; you were wheezing and everything making elise leave you lap and settling for dangling over mori’s shoulders

“...you’re kidding”

“im afraid im not”

this man confuses the hell out of you??

like-

w h y would he just say that, to you of all people

but it explains the bad shits you were smelling/feeling yesterday

“are you afraid?”

“being completely honest with you, mori-san, not really”

“and why is that?”

you simply shrug not really knowing the answer

you aren’t lying, you just aren’t

maybe bc yesterday, he seemed more like a doting parent than the boss of the most criminal organization of yokohama

yes, you’ve heard the rumors, obviously, but just saying, if the port mafia wanted to hurt you, you’d probably be dead in a ditch by now

and they haven’t really been a bother to you, they were more like background characters in your life

well

until yesterday of course

mori simply raises an eyebrow and a smile seemingly okay with your very vague answer

“why did you tell me that mori-san?”

the man only smiles a bit wider at you and this time, you’re the one raising an eyebrow

“just a feeling”

yeah you were starting to smell bad shits again

“and besides! elise-chan seems quite fond of you (y/n)-kun! i wasn’t planning on doing anything to you in the first place, but even if i wanted to, i don’t think i could! i wouldn’t want to upset my dearest cute elise-chan”

“die rintarou!”

“that’s mean elise-chan!”

your eyes began to twitch in slight annoyance

cause istg the duality of this man—

this strange strange man

oh dearest you haven’t even met dazai yet

after that has been said and done, somehow you found yourself in front of stores being dragged by elise

how did you end up there you ask? i don’t know either so there’s nothing we can do abt that

eventually, you found yourself holding a bunch of shopping bags full of dresses and clothes of the sort

some of it your size and the others elise’s

...

“mori-san?”

“yes (y/n)-kun?”

“why do i have bags of clothing that are fit for me rather than elise?”

“oh that’s because elise refused to go without you and if you didn’t get anything!”

yeah

that makes perfect sense, of course

you could see why elise kept on complaining abt this guy

the two of you actually bonded over making fun of him

you have n o fear

actually, maybe just a little

the three of you were out for basically the entire day and you were exhausted

cause holy shit there was a lot of money wasted, shopping bags obtained, and walking involved

it was around 5 pm when the three of you were making it back to Sakura’s

along the way you found yourself having a pleasant conversation with mori

even if he was a questionable person to be having a pleasant conversation with, you enjoyed it nonetheless

you hoped that it makes it harder to get rid of you if he ever changed his mind but we don’t talk abt that

anywho

when the three of you arrived, you immediately dumped all the bags you were holding and went straight to work packaging everything for “the local neighborhood doctor”

before they left, mori agreed to not buy out all of your stock except for some occasions but instead settled ordering massive batches of a little bit of everything every few days

how that’s not the same as buying everything you won’t ever know

you were standing outside Sakura’s watching the two get into the car that had arrived when suddenly, mori turned to you

“ah (y/n)-kun, i know that you wouldn’t tell anyone about this, it wouldn’t be like you to, but just a reminder, it would probably be in your best interest not to let anything slip to anyone okay? we wouldn’t want any enemies using you against the port mafia. so take care of yourself hm? see you next time”

and bippity boppity boo just like that, they were gone

how that man managed to get your personality down in just like 10 hours you don’t want to know

and that’s basically the story of how you started making more food/bake goods to sell

true to his word, every few days, or sometimes consecutive days, mori called you and made a large order

and i mean large

on those days, someone from the port mafia would pick it up and then you get paid

thankfully, by increasing the amount of food you made, you always had enough to put out on display and to sell even after the large order

before doing that, on those days you didn’t have a large stock, someone by the name of edogawa ranpo would weep at your feet

he will deny this; after all, great detectives don’t do weeping

or so he says

and speaking of the detective, you never did tell him what had transpired the two days he and fukuzawa were absent on checking on you

but tbh, i even think ranpo could’ve deduct this one

you didn’t tell him bc you were afraid, no of course not that’s ridiculous mori, in elise’s words, was a loser

you didn’t tell him bc you knew he and fukuzawa would flip the fuck out

and that would be a major inconvenience to you

you didn’t see the point in telling them anyway

so whatever, it’s like it’ll be important

and if ranpo and fukuzawa noticed the abundant of bags near the door leading up to the staircase when they visited you at the end of the day they didn’t say anything

of course one of them said smth

“ne (n/n)-chan since when did you like to buy a bunch of things; waste of money if you could just be using that money to make more food so you wouldn’t sell out right away and have food to feed me”

your eyes twitched

he could’ve worded that a little better but whatever

it is ranpo-san after all

“i just got carried away since i closed up early; you know it isn’t often i get to go shopping”

and if he smelled your bullshit he didn’t say anything

for real this time

that slightly concerns you ngl

anyways

let’s just say quite a few heads were turned when they saw their boss leading a bunch of lower level subordinates carrying many light pink boxes of different sizes to his office for the second time

oh and just another thing

*whispers* he was lying when elise made his other subordinates eat your food; they kept it all to themselves”

was that a ruse to help lead the revelation of his real occupation who knows

“(y/n)-kun is a very interesting person don’t you think so elise-chan?”

“quiet. i’m eating cake.”

“that’s so mean elise-chan!”

<<previous // next >>

announcement!! (event is now closed as of feb. 10, 2021) please take the time to check out the event for 100 followers! there are still 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 spot left and i would like to get those filled as soon as possible! thanks in advance! love you all and stay safe!

taglist: @akaashiro @nothinkonlyvolleyboys @kyoichiii @linthebinbag @Sras_isDoing_Something @hopeiskool @kyoumisstuff @realitycanbeajerk @juniymous @kozucafe @theother-victoria @classisass @hxsxxk-180294 @northsideprincess @tunakitty @fashionablyfailing12 @hanniejji @timeless-tales46

to join the tag list, please fill out this google form i made!!

italicized means it wouldn’t let me tag you

383 notes · View notes

wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years

Text

Prey for You | Part 6

Genre: Smut, angst.

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: As Chan gets closer to his heat and you get closer to Felix, things are bound to come to a head.

Warnings: super unhealthy relationship, dom!chan, sub!reader, spanking, exhibitionism, breeding kink, violence, big dick chan, fingering, enemies to lovers, wolf!hybrid chan, fox!hybrid reader

(If you know the owner of this gif pls let me know so I can credit them)

You barely spend any time in the house anymore, only going back to sleep. Chan can’t seem to grasp the fact that it’s really over. He keeps trying to talk his way back into your life like last time, but you don’t give him the chance. You’re afraid if you listen to him, he’ll trick you again.

You end up spending more and more time with Felix, something that angers Chan greatly. He even tries to tell Felix to stay away from you, as the cat begrudgingly admitted to you one day, but he refused. And you’re ever so grateful for that. You don’t really have any friends and if you did, you’re such none of them could hold a candle to Felix.

He was such a sweetheart in a way that was almost too good to believe. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t been through the same sort of stuff you have, and cat hybrids in general are more favored and accepted than fox hybrids. Or maybe it’s because he found a group of friends that accepted him for who he was and never doubted him. But he seemed to have so much faith and trust in the world that you could never come close to. Still, just being in his positive presence rubbed off on you a little and gave you a smidge of happiness by proxy.

It was much needed, as the closer Chan got to his heat, the more explosive his temper became. Unfortunately for you, the mere fact that you were spending time with Felix fueled his anger, and he would fly into rage every time you’d come back home smelling like the cat. So any sense of cheerfulness you may have gotten from Felix was quickly smashed to the ground the moment you walked through the door.

It also wasn’t helping that he hasn’t hooked up with anyone ever since your last time together, and not satisfying what his body was literally demanding from him just made things ten times worse. But he persisted, trying till the end to convince you to spend his heat with him. You refused, of course.

Until finally, he informs you that you will have to leave the house for a few days as he will be bringing someone over to spend his heat with him. He wanted to rent a hotel room for you but you told him you already had a place to stay. He asks where you’ll stay, the grimace already on his face telling you that he knew the answer; you’ll be with Felix.

You pack your bag with the things you’ll be needing for the next few days under Chan’s watchful eyes. He stays silent until it’s time for you to leave. That’s when he takes your hand in his, proclaiming earnestly, “I really didn’t want to do this. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” You mumble, trying to move away but he grips your hand tighter, looking down at it intensely. "Please don't stay with Felix. I'll get you a five star hotel suite."

You wrench away from him. "Because I'll ruin him?"

"No." He shakes his head vehemently. "Just please. For me?"

You snort. "I don't owe you shit, Chan."

_______________________

You can barely sit still. Just knowing that Chan was with another woman right now made you sick to your stomach, and once again, you find your traitorous heart wishing you had given in to him. This just hurts too much.

Felix is concerned about you, and he does all he can think of to take your mind off of it. He talks to you. He bakes you cookies. He cuddles with you. He tries to distract you in any way, but nothing works.

Finally, he brings out the alcohol, knowing that that’s what helped you last time. You throw yourself into it, downing glass after glass to snuff out your jealousy and pain, but all that accomplishes is getting you more disinhibited and loud.

“I can’t take it, Felix. He’s with another woman right now when he should be with me.”

“No. You deserve so much better.” Felix insists, trying to contain you in his embrace but you’re fidgeting too much. “Chan didn’t treat you right.”

“But he can, right? I mean he loves you so much. Maybe if we just try--” You maniacally explain but Felix’s angelic face twists into a scowl. “Do you even know the kind of stuff he used to say about you? That was the first time that I’ve ever looked down on him--when he was being so unfair to you.”

You gulp, heart wrenching at the thought of the kind of things he must’ve said to his friends that would anger Felix so much. “But...what can I do, Lixie? It hurts so bad.”

Felix cups your face, so soft and delicate, looking into your eyes adoringly. “Let me take your mind off it.” He whispers.

“What?” The word barely leaves your lips before his own lips are on you, kissing you tenderly.

You freeze in shock as Felix’s lips move over yours, trying to get you to reciprocate, but you pull away. "Kitty… don't."

He doesn’t let you go. “Stop thinking about him, please. Focus on me.” He coaxes, pressing his lips to yours in light pecks, his gaze pulling you in.

You give into the soft feeling of his lips on yours. So far nothing has worked to ease your mind. Maybe this will. It feels nice kissing him, he’s soft and malleable, working with you according to what you want, letting you lead the kiss when you’re ready.

You get closer to each other by the second, and when you pull him onto your lap, his crotch rubs against your thigh, and he moans out.

“Are you hard already, kitty?” You tug on his hair, pulling his head away and restricting his answering nod.

You slide your hands down his body and pull his pants down over his dick, freeing it. “What a cute little dick, Lixie.” You coo, seeing his small member red and twitching against his abdomen.

He blushes, burying his face in your neck and moaning out as you wrap your hand around his dick. “Fits just right in my hand.” You jerk him, the boy easily whining.

“Does it feel good, kitty?”

“Y-yeah.” He kisses your neck wetly, trailing down towards your chest and mouthing at your breast through your top. “So good. Been wanting this for so long.”

“You did? And here I thought you’re an innocent kitty.”

“I am. I’m a good kitty.” He moans, trying to kiss you again but you keep his head away.

“Do good kitties lust after their friend’s girl?”

His face morphs with annoyance, surprising you. “Shut up about him.” The way he spoke threw you off. It was unlike him and you were annoyed by the unexpected change. Narrowing your eyes at him, you hiss warningly, “Felix...”

“Chan is literally balls deep in another girl right now. Fuck him.” He huffs insolently, his hands going up to grope your chest.

You slap him, the wetness of his precum sticking to his cheek. “Shut up.”

“Why do you still care about him after all he's done to you?” He asks angrily.

“Because I love him!” You find yourself answering easily. You do love him, despite everything he put you through.

“He doesn’t deserve your love. He’s a fucking asshole.”

“He’s your best friend. He thinks of you like a brother!” You know you shouldn't defend him but you also know that Chan would be absolutely devastated if he found out that's what Felix thinks of him. It was never your intention to drive a wedge between them.

Felix scoffs, getting off you and adjusting his clothes irritably. “Yeah and I have to forever follow his every word or I’ll be an ungrateful bastard, right? I thought you out of everyone else would understand!”

“Understand what?” You exclaim.

“When Chan took me under his wing,” Felix begins, voice gruff with a bitterness you’re all too familiar with. “I was so blown away by how nice that is, that I basically worshipped him. And he liked that about me. I know he loves me but a big part of that is because I contribute to making him feel better about himself. Chan is so fucking obsessed with having people like and respect him. That’s the entire reason he’s so ashamed of you, because you don’t fit his perfect image.”

His words lash at you. You already knew very well that’s how Chan thinks but to hear it said out loud to you by Felix just makes it hurt more.

“So when I came in, all puppy eyed and full of praise, he was ecstatic to have me around--his own personal cheerleader. And I was happy to give that to him. Hell, the guys saved my life, right? But now I can’t get out of that role. I can’t disobey anything he says or go against his word or he’d take it as a betrayal because Chan is always fucking right. Chan always knows best.”

"Felix don't be stupid. I’m sure if you just talked to him, he’d understand.”

“Yeah, like he understood you?”

You reel back, stung, and you quietly say, “You’re different. He loves you so much, Felix. He almost ripped my head off when he found out I had hung out with you. He was so worried about you.”

Felix laughs at that. “You got it all wrong. He wasn’t worried about me. He was jealous and afraid I’ll steal you from him.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” You exclaim, the entire conversation thrusting your brain in a confused daze, but you quickly quiet down as you hear the sounds of keys. You look at Felix in alarm, silently asking who could it be, and from the way his face pales, you already know the answer.

Your heart drops in your stomach and your throat closes up as the door swings open to reveal a distressed Chan. He lets out a little sigh of relief when he sees you, and he starts making his way towards you. "Oh, baby. I couldn't do it. Please come home."

Suddenly, he stops dead in his tracks, face turning to stone and eyes deadly as he takes in the scent of your and Felix's arousal in the air. You see nothing but bloody murder in his eyes as they regard you, and you think he might actually kill you this time. After all, it’s the peak of his heat, he apparently hasn’t slept with the woman he was supposed to, and you had just messed around with his best friend. He must be angry, riled up, and frantic. He’s capable of doing anything.

But instead of attacking you, he pounds towards Felix, screaming at him, “You fucking bastard!” He swings at Felix, the force of his punch throwing the smaller boy to the ground. He doesn’t stop there though, aiming kicks at the crumpled form of the cat on the floor.

“Chan, no!” You scream, rushing towards them but Chan yanks you away, gritting out, “Don’t touch him.”

“Chan, please--” You beg, hoping to stop him from assaulting Felix again, but then the boy on the ground sits up, spitting the blood out of his mouth, and regarding Chan with a dark look you've never even thought the cute cat was capable of. “What is it, hyung? The bitch’s pussy wasn’t tight enough for you?”

Chan throws you to the side and jumps on Felix again, pummeling his face with punches. The cat can barely do anything to protect himself, let alone retaliate--the power difference just too great between them.

You rush towards them again, trying to stop the wolf’s attacks. “Stop it, Chan! You’re gonna kill him!”

He stops, and Felix slumps on the ground, groaning and bloody. You try to get closer to check on him but Chan grabs you by the hair and pulls your face close to his. “Is this what you wanted, baby? Am I predator enough for you now?”

“Puppy, please, don’t do this.” You beseech, pulling at his arm. “Let’s go home. Let me take care of you.”

“You can take care of me here.” He replies coldly.

“W-what?” You yelp as he gets off Felix and pushes you over his body instead. “Since he decided to touch what wasn’t his, I’m gonna fuck you right in front of his eyes.”

You and Felix stare at each other in horror as Chan’s hands rip your pants off. You quickly notice the malice in his eyes, and you grab his arms, your hands clenching down on them with all your might and your eyes silently begging him to stay down. He’d have no chance against Chan if he tried, and you really don’t think he can take any more punches.

“Please.” You mouth, hoping the concern in your eyes would get through to him. He grits his teeth but stays down, and you let out a small sigh of relief that turns into a shocked squeak as you feel Chan’s hand coming down on your ass.

“I am the one in heat and I couldn’t bear to sleep with someone else. But you were just gonna fuck my best friend that easily?” He growls, giving your ass another smack that makes you jolt. He doesn’t hold back, his fingers spread wide to strike as much of your cheek as he can.

“No!” You shake your head forcefully, making up for your uncertainty. The truth is you aren’t sure if you would’ve gone through with it or not, and that made you feel ashamed of yourself. Yes, Chan had hurt you but you wouldn’t have gone so low as to fuck the guy he thought of as his brother, right? “I wasn’t.”

"But you let him touch you." He snarls, giving you another hard slap before soothing the skin again. "Tell me, did you let him touch you here?" He pulls your panties to the side and rubs his fingers lightly over your pussy.

"No!" You shake your head, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach and you find yourself pushing your ass back into his fingers. But instead of touching you, he smacks your ass once more.

Soothing his hand over the punished skin, he drawls, "It doesn’t matter. When I'm done with you, no one will have any doubt who you belong to." Then he spanks you again. And again. And again.

You’re surprised by how you don’t have any desire to stop his actions. On the contrary, it felt good to finally be claimed by him. You longed for him to love you openly and willingly, and with the effect of the heat, that is exactly what he was doing. You could smell how aroused he is, and how much he wanted to fuck you. And you wanted him to. Messing around with Felix only made you crave Chan more, and like a horny bitch you couldn’t wait for him to give it to you, even in front of Felix--especially in front of Felix. You wanted to prove to him as much as to yourself that you could be Chan’s.

“Is this what you wished to have, Lixie?" He asks the boy under you. "She has such a pretty pussy, doesn’t she? So tight…” He nudges a finger in, curling it. “But it's all mine."

The boy under you glares up at him and you dig your fingers into his biceps, once again begging him not to fight back.

"Puppy, please. Let’s just go home" You coax, trying to get the two boys away from each other.

“No. He’s gonna sit there and watch me breed your little pussy.” Chan says, pulling his finger out then pushing it in again, his other hand continuing to spank you.

You think you hear a low growl coming from Felix but it’s hard concentrated over the squelching sounds of Chan’s fingers pumping in and out of your drenched pussy at a rapid pace. Delighting in the way you are rocking yourself against his hand and clenching around his finger, Chan praises you. “Good girl. You know who you belong to, don’t you?”

“Chan--”

His finger curls inside of you and his hand falls on your ass harshly. “Don’t you, baby?”

You know he’s not to be provoked right now. “Yes. I belong to you.”

“That’s my good little fox.” He grunts, pushing another finger inside you. “Would he be able to make you lose it like this just from his fingers? Have you fucking back on his fingers like a bitch in heat?”

“No, puppy. Only you can.” You answer while looking Felix in the eye, and you’re turned on, you could feel your arousal leaking down your leg.

“You like this, don’t you, little slut? Is this what you were waiting for?”

“No… I-I” You stutter, feeling yourself getting close despite your denial. Chan can tell and he speeds up even more, causing the palm of the hand he is fingering you with to keep smacking against your pussy. As your walls start spasming around his fingers, he takes them out, leaving you clenching around nothing. But he doesn’t stop touching you, his fingers rubbing over your lips relentlessly, forcing you into a painful high and never letting you down. You shake in his grip, squealing and begging him to stop. “Chan---I can’t, please!”

You try to pull away but he snakes an arms around your waist and keeps your ass in the air, his fingers forcing you into another orgasm. Your hips jerk in his hold, trying to break away, and you beg. “It h-hurts, Chan...ahhhh---please, stop! Please!”

Finally he stops, and your body goes limp, almost falling onto Felix if it weren’t from the arm Chan has around you. As you sit there, panting and held up by Chan, he brings his other hand to your face and pushes the fingers that were just inside you into your mouth. You can barely breathe around the intrusion, so short of breath already, but you do your best to suck on them like you know he wants.

“Good girl.” He pushes your shirt over your breasts and palms one of them greedily. "Want me to fuck your pussy, my pretty fox?" He purrs, pulling his fingers out of your mouth, and--wet with your saliva-- he rubs them over your other breast. Despite the agonizing orgams you just had, you find yourself arching into his touch and rubbing your thighs together.

“Yes, puppy. Need you to fuck me.”

You let out a shaky breath as he pulls your panties to your knees. You hear the sound of pants unzipping before you feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance and slowly nudging in. You briefly wonder how you were ever able to take him. Sensing your worry, he pushes in more of his dick. “No, no backing down now. You’re going to be a good fox and take my cock, won’t you, baby?”

“Yes, Channie.” You grit. It’s been so long since you’ve taken him, and you know this is gonna hurt despite how drenched you were. Still, you were excited, having learnt to appreciate the painful stretch now. Maybe he was right all along--he’d ruined you for all your pretty boys, trained you to crave his dick only.

He holds you still to prevent you from wiggling away as he continues to inch his dick inside you. “Take it. You wanted me to claim you and now you’re going to be good and take it.” He leans over and mouths at your neck. Instead of kisses, he nibs at your skin, the sharp pain of his canines plucking at the skin taking your attention away from the dull pain of his dick breaching your pussy.

Once he’s all the way in, he laps his tongue at your neck soothingly. “There. Good girl.”

You wince as he pulls his hips back slowly then thrusts back in all at once, a yelp coming out of you as his dick hits deep inside you. He chuckles, his hips picking up speed. “I have so much cum for you, you’ll be dripping my seed for days.”

You can do nothing but whimper, holding tightly onto Felix as Chan’s hips slap against your ass and his dick pistons in and out of you. It feels like it’s the first time fucking him for how much your pussy suffers. But for as much pain it gives you, it also gives pleasure, and you feel euphoric.

"I'll make sure no one touches you ever again. Gonna breed you everyday and make you walk around with my cum dripping from your pussy so everyone knows who you belong to." He growls, and you know he’s staring down at Felix from the way the other boy was glaring at him. “Do you want that, baby?”

You open your mouth to reply but all that cums out is an incomprehensible garble so you give up, mouth left hanging open.

"Look at that, Felix. I’ve fucked her dumb." He gloats, pushing your shirt up and fondling your tits. “And you thought your little dick could ever please her. She wouldn’t have even felt it after getting fucked open by me. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

Chan’s voice is gruff as his hips drive into you even harder, and you know he’s close. You nod, pleading. “Yes---p-please puppy---ahh cum.”

“You want me to cum inside you? Want me to make you mine?” He growls in your ear, and you whimper, your legs buckling under you. He holds your hips up, his dick drilling into you. “Ok, baby girl. There you go. Take it all.” His dick spasms inside of you, his hot cum quickly filling up your tight pussy.

You feel so satisfied filled up like this. It feels right, and you wish you could stay in this moment forever--his arms wrapped securely around you and his face nuzzling softly into your neck as he whispers soft praises into your ear.

But of course it can’t, especially not with the hostile cat lying under you.

Chan is not done taunting Felix though. Pulling out of you, he inserts two fingers into your pussy and curls them as he pulls out, making the cum inside you gush out. Then he leans over you and brushes his cum stained fingers over Felix’s bloody cheek. The cat tenses up, hissing threateningly, but you quickly intervene, croaking out, “Channie…Please, let’s go.”

Chan huffs, pulling your panties back on and zipping up his own pants before he scoops you up in his arms. He sits you down on the couch and helps you put your pants back on. As he starts getting dressed too. Felix sits up, looking worse for wear but hopefully not seriously injured. You’re worried that Felix would be stupid enough to attack him but to your relief, he stays seated where he was, the both of them just glaring at each other.

Before it can escalate beyond the dirty looks, you put a hand to Chan’s back, pulling his attention towards you. “I want to go now.” You coax, “Please.”

Chan sighs and nods, carrying you in his arms and walking out of the apartment.

When you get back to his house, Chan sets you down on your bed.

Cupping your cheeks, he asks softly, “Do you want to take a shower?”

You shake your head, too tired to even stand up at this point. Nodding, he pulls your soiled clothes off your body, doing his best to wipe you off before he grabs one of his hoodies and pulls it over your head.

When he’s done, he just stands there awkwardly like he wants to say something but is unsure how to start.

You sigh, defeated. “Just say what you want to say, Chan.”

His gaze is set on you, suddenly resolute, and he states firmly. "I want you to give me a chance."

You scoff in disbelief. "I've given you plenty of chances."

"No.” He insists, jaw set and tone unrelenting. “You never really did. You always had your mind made up about me from the beginning. I want a real chance this time."

“You think you deserve it after all you’ve done? You've never even apologized for any of the shit you put me through, Chan!"

“I’m sorry." He apologizes at once, with no hesitation, and you’re taken aback. “Why suddenly? Did I have to ask you for it?”

"No. I was being an idiot and a coward. I cared more about my reputation than I did about you and that was wrong.” His jaw clenches and he looks at you intensely. “But I wasn’t the only one at fault. You were no angel either.”

You open your mouth to protest but he stops you. “Just shut up and listen for once.” He shouts, frustrated, and begins pacing around the room, one hand messing up his hair while the other gestures wildly as he explains.

“I was scared to tell people I was with you when I wasn’t even sure you were going to stay. Any time I tried to get close to you, you would always reject me. You made me feel so worthless and unwanted. You never thought of me as a real predator, and you made sure to throw that in my face every chance you got. Tell me how could I trust you when you looked at me like I didn’t even deserve to be a predator? That my mere existence was a shame? Have you ever apologized to me for that?” He challenges, stopping his pacing and waiting for your answer, but you couldn’t give him one. You just stare down at your hands to avoid his condemning gaze. No, you never apologized.

“I didn’t think so.” He scoffs sourly, “You know what the worst thing is? I believed you. I’ve always doubted myself and wondered if I’m weak and inept, wondered if I could ever be enough. And there you were, so contemptuously telling me that I am not."

"So it's my own fault you treated me like I was something to be ashamed of?" You ask incredulously. “That you didn’t even stand up for me in front of your friends?”

"No! I just want you to see it from my perspective for once." He yells, frustrated at how you seemed to twist his words. “That night at the studio, I thought we were getting somewhere. I thought that for the first time you were starting to trust me and respect me. That you could maybe see me as something more than the impotent predator you always thought I was. But as soon as I attempted to confess to you, you pulled back like I disgusted you. You undid everything I was trying to build with that one look.”

“So yeah, I was fucking bitter about it, and when my friends showed up and realized you were there, they fucking laid it on me, asking me what the fuck I was doing and reminding me how hard I had been on Jisung because of you before, and I just felt fucking stupid and humiliated by them--by you!”

“Still, I wanted to apologize after I’d calmed down but by then you wouldn’t even listen to me. You’re so fucking stubborn you know?” He smiles wetly.

He waits for you to say something but you just remain frozen, trying to make sense of everything that he said. You had always viewed Chan as the dangerous party here, the one who was most capable of hurt, that you never stopped to ask if you were hurting him. You guess, deep down, you never really believed he cared for you and so you didn’t consider the idea that your rejection would affect him.

Coming close again, he sits on the bed next to you and props your chin up to make you look at him. “But I never lied to you, my pretty fox. You are special to me and I love you.” You can see the sincerity in his eyes, but something still nags at you.

“What about what you said to me about Felix? How you actually care about him?” You chew on your lip, worried about his answer.

Letting you go, he rubs a hand over his face and lets out a tired laugh. “I was fucking jealous for god’s sake--something you would've been able to tell easily if you had paid any attention to how I was feeling.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling defensive. “But why would you assume I would go after Felix?”

“Because you and him make way more sense than you and I. He’s much more your type than I ever was. He’s kind and compassionate and sweet. I was terrified that you’d fall right into his arms, and I’d never be able to compete. I would lose both my lover and my best friend.”

“Okay.” You say slowly, trying to make sense of all this new information and relating them to your own emotions. “But all of that still doesn’t excuse the fact that you completely fucked with my already tennous sense of self worth, Chan. You made me feel that for once, someone might actually love me and want me despite what I am, only for you to then immediately pull the rug out from under my feet and try to distance yourself from me.”

“I know, and I was wrong and I wish I could take it all back.” He laments sadly, “But I was hurt too. You never made it easy”

“You’re right. I’m sorry too.” You finally apologize, and you mean it. You never even suspected the extent to which your actions and words have affected him. You thought you were the only one who truly cared and you did everything in your power to hide that from him so he wouldn’t hurt you with it.

“But,” You take a deep breath, almost wishing you could stop here and just forgive him and take him back. But you know you can’t. You’d just come back here again. “I don’t if I can trust you.”

"Don't then.” He answers simply and you’re lost. “I'm not sure I trust you either.”

You frown, even more confused, and he continues. “Neither of us has really earned the other’s trust. But we can try." He pauses, brushing your hair out of your face and looking you deep in the eyes. "Do you love me still?"

"Yes." There is no use denying it, you do.

"Then let's earn each other’s trust. I can't promise that I'll never hurt you again but I can promise that I'll do everything in my power not to. I'll never hide you again. I'll do all I can to fix the mistakes that I've made and try to be a boyfriend you'd be proud of. But I need your help. You need to try too."

"I'm scared." You say in a small voice, and he pulls you towards his body, resting his head against yours. "I am too. I'm fucking terrified. But I will never forgive myself if I don't give us another chance."

You take a long pause, the world seeming to hold its breath as you make up your mind. Chan certainly is. And just that, the fact that he looks to be hanging so much onto your decision as if his life depends on it, is what makes it easy for you to choose. He is giving you what you’ve been after all this time--he’s showing you that he wants you and that he cares. And that’s all you needed from him.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

The smile that lights up his face is gorgeous, and you’re sorry to dim it before it has the chance to fully bloom. “But you have to promise me one thing first.”

“Anything.” He answers confidently as if there wasn’t anything in the world he couldn’t do for you.

“You have to promise me that you’ll forgive Felix.”

He clearly didn’t see that one coming from the way he pulls back and his smile disappears like it was never there. “I can’t do that. He's the only one I have told what you were to me. He’s the only one that knew. And he tried to take you away from me!”

“He’s just misguided.” You try to explain. “He’s young and restless and he doesn’t know who he is because he was never allowed to explore himself or the world. You’ve always dictated to him what to do and how to feel.”

“So you’re on his side?” Chan asks incredulously, “He betrayed me!”

“I did too but you forgive me. He deserves forgiveness too. The only reason he got so upset about the way you were treating me is because he saw himself in me. He’s scared that you’d abandon him if he does anything you don’t approve of and so he freaked out and crossed the line.”

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stand up, wobbling on your feet and Chan rushes to steady you. You take the chance to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close, whispering gently to him, “He just needs some space, that’s all. And trust. Show him that you have a little faith in him, and he’ll come around. I know he will.”

You kiss the corner of Chan’s mouth and he turns his head slightly so he can kiss you fully. You kiss him back passionately, helping him stay grounded as he takes his time to come to a decision.

Finally, he pulls away, eyes still closed. “Okay.”

You smile happily, eyes getting a little misty at the extent of emotions filling up your chest. And for the first time in a while, they’re mostly good.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

___________________________

A/N: I will literally die if you don’t tell me what you think of the ending

#stray kids smut #bangchan smut #bangchan angst #bang chan smut #bang chan angst #stray kids angst

651 notes · View notes

asterekmess · 3 years

Note

What did Scott McCall do to deserve a “true alpha” title exactly?

Well, to be entirely honest, that’s not how a True Alpha is supposed to work.

True Alpha (hereby referred to as TA) abilities aren’t something you ‘earn’ by doing something. If we take what Deaton and Morrell say at face value, that there’s literally no way to ‘earn’ becoming a True Alpha. No selfless act, no nothing.

It’s just something you are. Deaton describes it in “Currents” as “someone who rises purely on the strength of character, by virtue, by sheer force of will.’

Now, technically...those things don’t require you to do anything. Essentially, someone who believes they should be an Alpha strongly enough can become an Alpha. And the virtue part is weird, because it never says what virtue. There are a few.

The Seven Christian Virtues Are:

Chastity - “Purity”

Temperance - “Humanity/Compassion”

Charity - “Generosity/Sacrifice”

Diligence - “Persistence/Ethics”

Patience - “Forgiveness/Mercy”

Kindness - “Satisfaction/Compassion again”

Humility - “Bravery/Modesty”

Now, there are two ways of looking at this. Either a True Alpha must be “Virtuous,” as in, someone who has ALL seven virtues. OR, a True Alpha must fully embody ONE virtue”

Now, if it were the case of the first, that...doesn’t make much sense. Scott isn’t pure in like..any sense of the word? He’s not sexually pure (though that doesn’t actually exist, obviously) but he’s also not free of jealousy. And you can’t even say that just because he IS jealous doesn’t mean he’s not pure because he never acted on it, because HE DID. MULTIPLE TIMES. He tried to attack Jackson and Allison when they were talking in the car. He insisted on playing lacrosse when Lydia told him she’d introduce Allison to the other members of the team.

The same things happens when you look at any of the other virtues. It isn’t that he just has bad thoughts and then that’s it. It’s that he acts on those thoughts and insecurities and commits violence and acts against other people in the name of securing his superiority/power. He doesn’t show a lick of compassion with Derek’s Betas, outright telling Erica that he doesn’t care why she wanted the bite. Telling Boyd that he’d made a mistake in liking Derek and implying that being lonely was a stupid reason to want the bite. Even making the claim that Isaac had bloodlust even though Isaac hadn’t lost control since he’d been bitten when had to at least have been one day, and even though Isaac clearly didn’t lose control in front of any officers the entire time he was being interrogated about his father’s abuse and death, only losing it after the moon went up, and only to stop a hunter from killing him.

I won’t go on with every single virtue, but the evidence is there.

Now, let’s go one step further into the possible reasoning behind him being a TA. Maybe, you say, maybe Scott didn’t become a TA before S3 because of those previous things he did. When he went against the virtues, he couldn’t become a TA. But then in S3 he’s doing So Much Better, so then he gets to become a TA.

Except he doesn’t. Yes, in S3A he’s shown to be suddenly much wiser, because he apparently spent the summer reading and working on self-improvement. But it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t continue to do extremely immoral things throughout the season, right down to pettily helping Isaac and Allison play a prank on the Twins that would get them in major trouble and lying to the people around him so he could go have a secret meeting with Deucalion.

And this isn’t even me trying to diss Scott. The ENTIRE POINT of the Seven virtues is that NO ONE can be perfect. No one can embody all of these virtues at once. Humans are FLAWED. The problem here is that if we don’t make the Virtuous part required to become a TA then it’s just FAR too easy to do.

If “sheer force of will” is enough to become an Alpha, if occasionally doing immoral things doesn’t totally negate your ability to ‘rise up’ (even though Alphas aren’t better. They’re canonically just one branch. One option. Alpha, Beta, and Omega aren’t ever specified as one being better than the other. Hell, Scott’s an Omega until he Gets the Alpha eyes, since he never joins Derek’s pack, and he isn’t even weakened by it) then PETER HALE should’ve become an Alpha.

You don’t get a force of will stronger than Screaming into the woods about “I Will Always Be The Alpha.”

But Tali, you say, Peter killed someone and we all know that killing someone means you can’t become a TA.

Well, First, I’ll point out that Scott came up with that idea on his own. No one told him that. He just said it in the meeting with Morrell “But if I kill someone, I can’t become a True Alpha, right?”.

Now, maybe Deaton told him that, and he’s just repeating something that was said offscreen. After all, Morrell does respond with “Exactly.” So maybe that is a rule.

But see, if that’s a rule, then Deaton was sabatoging Scott in Season 2.

Remember? Deaton helped Scott switch out Gerard’s pills with mountain ash. They were Actively Murdering a Cancer Patient. If Deaton “believed” “From the moment” Scott was bitten that he would be a TA, then wouldn’t that mean that S2 was ENTIRELY him trying to take away the TA potential from Scott? If That plan had worked? Scott would never have been able to become an Alpha.

OH, you say, but Scott didn’t technically kill Gerard, even if the pills worked. It was Derek and the mountain ash. Scott never touched him.

BUT, if that’s the case, then AGAIN literally ANYONE who truly believes they should be able to become an Alpha should become a TA. When you twist the definitiion of ‘killing’ like that, Derek should’ve been able to be a TA before he killed Peter. TeCHniCAllY Derek didn’t kill Paige, Ennis’ bite did. He was saving her from the pain.

And so, you end up playing so many different games trying to make TA’s special and rare, only to make them IMPOSSIBLE to become, but that leaves you with two, maybe three choices. Either you Remove the TA idea altogether, you admit that anybody can become a TA and you give it to the other characters who match the criteria, or you turn the ONE character you want to give it to into a LITERAL SAINT.

And they didn’t even do that correctly, because Scott isn’t perfect in S3 or beyond. He ISN’T a saint, and he does admit that regularly, though it’s not with any amount of humility or wish to grow as a person.

So it’s no wonder that nobody likes the True Alpha concept. It doesn’t make any fucking sense.

#personal #rant #meta ramblings #anti-Scott McCall #sorry about all the anons lately #I just finally got the energy to answer the ones sitting in my inbox #Anonymous #go for it

309 notes · View notes

ateezbabygirl · 4 years

Text

Ateez Mafia Reaction : To their fiancée running away

PARK SEONGHWA

So far you were doing a good job at staying hidden. Although it didn’t surprise Seonghwa but angered him to the extent that even his own gang member wouldn’t go near him. Unfortunately he was able to track down your location within 72 hours and was waiting for you to come back to the apartment.

You looked around with caution before entering your apartment and locking the door behind you. You weren’t aware of Seonghwa looking at you from the shadows of the pitch black apartment as you double checked your locked doors. As soon as you thought that everything was fine you felt the his eyes on you. Your heartbeat quickened as you slowly turned around and looked at him. You were met with Seonghwa’s eerily calm face which doubled your fear.

“Are you going to threaten me to come back?”

“I don’t have to threaten you. You’ll do it willingly.”

“Well it’s either that or over my dead body. Because there is no way that I will go back with you willingly.”

“Is that so?”

Seonghwa smirked, cocking his head to the left and started loosening his tie as his eyes raked up and down your figure. You body grew hotter as he whispers in your ear , his lips slightly grazing it.

“Because I think there is another way to convince you to go back with me willingly.”

KIM HONGJOONG

All you needed was one opportunity to get away. It had to be quick and you didn’t have time to think anything through but you just knew you had to get out of here.

You got your suitcase and began shoving anything you could find into it. But you thought you had counted the time right. What you didn’t take into account was that Hongjoong could always come back home early. And that’s exactly what happened when you were putting your escape plan into action. As soon as you were exiting your shared room, Hongjoong comes in and slams the door shut.

“Going somewhere sweetheart ?”

“Hongjoong , I-“

“That too , without me ? That’s not very nice of you sweetheart.”

You were frozen in your place as Hongjoong walked towards you and takes the suitcase out of your hands. He then makes himself comfortable on your bed. Your heartbeat was so loud that you were sure it could be heard even from miles away.

“I-“

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Now come here and sit on my lap.”

“Make me.”

Hongjoong smirks at your choice of words and shakes his head and gets up. He corners your body as his eyes settle on yours.

“If you insist.”

JEONG YUNHO

Yunho leans on the wall next to you apartment door, waiting for you to come back. He had his men surrounding the building and blocking all exits. All he had to do was pick you up and take your back home. Oh and also , teach you a lesson so that you didn’t pull anything like this ever again.

You yelped as somebody caught you by the hand and pushed you against the wall as you entered your apartment.

“Missed me baby?”

Yunho bends down to your eye level as you look around , looking for ways to escape.

“Don’t even try.”

He takes a hold of your wrists and lifts them up to pin them above your head. His free hand comes up your face as he takes you chin between his fingers and makes you face him.

“I hope you had fun but I think it’s time to come back home.”

You struggled in his strong grip but there was not much you could do in this position. His could easily overpower you without breaking a sweat. But you weren’t going down without a fight.

“Ah, I love it when you try resist, makes me want to push your limits.”

“Fuck you Yunho!”

Yunho devilishly grins at you and suddenly his hands takes a handful of your ass and squeezes it while he pushes your body against his. You bite your lip to prevent your moans from escaping.

“I’m up for it if you are.”

“I-“

”What ? Cat got your tongue baby?”

KANG YEOSANG

Yeosang knew about your apprehensions regarding his profession but it had seemed that he underestimated them, until one day he came home to find you gone. He was torn between his anger for you escape and his concern for your well being.

You had voiced your concerns regarding his business which Yeosang had casted aside. But never had he thought that you would actually run away without a trace and true to your word, you decided to leave the man with no calls or messages. Simply disappeared into thin air.

Days passed by but there was no sign of Yeosang even realizing that you were gone, or so you thought. Your bittersweet feelings clouded your mind that he didn’t care enough about you and valued his business more than you. But you had managed to get off the hook of such a dangerous man. Until that one phone call that crushed your thoughts.

“I’m giving you another week of free time princess.”

“And at the end of this week when I come home from work, I expect you to be back home. Is that understood?”

“I don’t have any reason to stay with you.”

“I will give you more than enough reasons.”

“I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll forget why you even wanted to leave me in the first place.”

And true to his word, at the end of the week you found yourself back home with Yeosang hovering above you as he gave you more than enough reason to stay with him.

CHOI SAN

San had enough troubles that came alongside his bothersome occupation and on top of that his fiancée had tried to run away. Packed everything and left in the middle of the night while he was out for work.

But it wasn’t long till you were standing in front of the beautiful mansion. The same mansion which was San’s safe haven and your living hell prison. His men had managed to corner you three days after you had left. Although you were sure that you were covering your tracks well. But you were no match for the mafia world’s very own Satan.

He all but practically dragged you back to your room and pushed you inside as soon as he his men got you back.

“What?!”

You tried to put up a brave front as you backed up until you reached the bed. San’s intense gaze and calm face had you sweating profusely.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You sent a hard glare his way as he merely cocked his eyebrow at your behaviour. It was just a few moments later he finally spoke to you.

“No.”

He suddenly invaded your personal space not being able to keep your balance fell on the bed with San right on top of you.

“You can’t force me to be here or marry you, San.”

“I don’t have to force you. We both know you want it.”

San took your chin and matched your nervous eyes with his intense ones. Your heart started beating even faster and you hated how your body betrayed you.

“I can see right through you baby.”

You blushed at the nickname as San’s amusement grew.

“And the more you resist , the more I want to fuck you into the mattress till, the only thing you can remember is my name.”

SONG MINGI

It took Mingi longer than intended to find you. But soon you found yourself sitting with the devil himself in your apartment. You closely followed his every move as he paced around the room, anticipating his words. The atmosphere was so tense that you could practically cut it with a knife. was so It’s been a few hours since his men found you and until now you weren’t nervous to face him but he didn’t say a thing since he came into the room and the tension was killing you. The silence finally became too much for you.

“I changed my mind, I don’t want to get married to you.”

“Changed your mind?, you think you have a choice ?”

Mingi lowly chuckles as he finally stops pacing and turns his piercing gaze towards you. You finally get a good look as his face and feel yourself drawn to his newly pierced lips. Your cheeks redden at the thought of kissing him. Mingi’s ego inflates as he takes in your reaction to his new addition. Your eyes eyes suddenly meet his and you shake your head to get rid of the lustful thoughts clouding your mind.

“Excuse me, I- who do you think you -“

Suddenly Mingi takes long strides towards you, sweeping you off your feet and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Put me down!”

“Stop struggling, before I take you over my knee right now.”

You pay no heed to his words and continue shouting. A spank to your ass halts your protests as your clench your legs together. A whimper escapes your throat.

“What ? You like that babygirl?”

“Then be a good girl for me and wait till we get home. I swear your ass will different shades of red by the time I’ll be done with you.”

JUNG WOOYOUNG

Wooyoung even without his occupation was a scary man. His duality could put a psychopath to shame. He could easily leave you breathless with sunshine smile or leave shivers running down your spine with his harsh glare. But you didn’t want to take any chances so you instantly swung your tail under, leaving him without taking any of your belongings.

You decided to spend the night at a friend’s place for time before going on the run. But that didn’t seem to work out for you.

Harsh knocks were delivered on the door in the middle of the night that scared you to death. The door nearly flew off the hinges when you opened the door to him. Your scared , pale form met an angry Wooyoung who sent a murderous glare towards you.

“I’ll give you 1 minute to explain yourself.”

“Wooyoung , I-“

“You what ?”

“I-i-“

No matter how much you tried, words wouldn’t come out of your mouth. And Wooyoung sharp gaze wasn’t making the situation any better.

“I have no clue why you thought this was even a remotely good idea.”

Wooyoung’s thoughts mirrored yours , as you regretted your actions. Having received no response from you, he pulled you to him and forced your eyes to meet his.

“I guess I must teach you, that all actions have consequences.”

CHOI JONGHO

Jongho was a patient guy, you knew that better than anyone but now his patience was running low because of your antics. But unaware of his turmoil you ran away leaving a sweet note behind which agitated Jongho even more. Unfortunately, you miscalculated everything and didn’t even get enough time to get to the airport before a black SUV stops in front of you. And suddenly you are forced inside the car where Jongho was seated opposite of you. He tapped his fingers, expecting you to finally start talking.

“Start talking, because after this I won’t let you speak.”

“Just let me go, you will find someone else.”

“I’m afraid that this is not how it works. In short, it won’t be possible my love. Anything else ?”

His strong gaze finally meets yours and you feel trapped under his gaze unable to look away , even for a second. Jongho smirks at you lack of answer and abruptly leans in and brushes a strand of your hair away from your face. You resist the urge to lean towards the familiar warmth of your fiancé’s touch. But the action doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“You’re mine, understood ?”

“So don’t try this again or else I won’t go easy on you like this time.”

#ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez smut #ateez #ateez boyfriend #ateez mafia au #ateez fluff #mafia ateez #ateez smut reaction #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez scenarios

1K notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

breaking the rules

request from anon: Your writing is truly amazing!! I just read your fake dating with Georgie and I loved it!! I was wondering you would be up to writing a fake dating piece with Freddie?!☺️

word count: 6.9k sorry i keep getting carried away

A/N: ugh. my heart. i cannot deal. thank you all for being so kind, day after day, with each and every piece i write. and thank you, also, for being so patient. i know it’s taking me a while to sift through these requests. it means the world to me! love you all tons

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover | message me if you’d like to be added lovelies!

“Hey, Y/N! Would you mind, for the sake of the entire team, to not be so bloody brilliant during every single match? You’re making us look bad.”

You smile, clutching the quaffle to your chest as you zoom rapidly through the air, leaving dust in your wake as you fly past the Slytherin team members, leaving them baffled and confused before they can fully register just exactly what’s going on. You hoist the quaffle through the hoop and hear a loud roar from the Gryffindor section; you must be up by a hundred points by now. You see Malfoy near the goal posts on the opposite side, looking positively murderous.

You make your way around the interior of the pitch, only to reply to Fred Weasley as you pass by, “I can try, but—don’t you want to win?”

A hearty laugh escapes his lips, and he’s pummeling bludgers left and right with his twin by his side. He wonders now, watching you, if Gryffindor would be as good as they are without you on the team. You’re probably one of the most talented Chasers Gryffindor has seen in years, he reckons. He knew it the first time he saw you mount a broom in a flying lesson your first year at Hogwarts. Since then, inseparable you two had been.

There’s a light, airy feel to the match, which is, to Fred’s surprise, nothing at all what he had expected this morning, especially with Slytherin being the opponent. But you seem to be more in rhythm with the wavelengths of this match than ever before, to the point where Harry is actually taking his time to try and find the snitch—he’s making Malfoy sweat it out a bit.

But when a nasty bludger smacks the end of your broom and you’re knocked to the ground, landing painfully on your arm, Madam Hooch begins shouting out punishments at the Slytherin beaters, McGonagall is rushing to your side with Madam Pomfrey, and Fred, George, and Harry are nearly kicking Malfoy into the ground when his sickeningly irritating mock laughter floats in the air between them.

— -

“Merlin—is a side effect of drinking too much Skele-Gro that you end up a bottomless pit?” you ask nobody in particular as you continue to shovel eggs, toast, bacon and sausage into your mouth. Next to you, George laughs and pats you on the shoulder.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he tells you.

You peer over and smile—your bones in your arm are fully restored, but still in a sling; Madam Pomfrey had insisted. Across the table, Fred is looking rather sullen indeed.

“Brighten up, would you, Weasley?” you kick him playfully under the table and his stoic face breaks into a toothy smile. He’s feeling rather guilty, he is. Wasn’t able to stop the bludger in time. Neither was George. As if you’re reading his thoughts, you tell him, “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“Yeah,” he replies, stirring his spoon in his cup of tea. A bit too loudly, he continues, “Slimy Slytherin beaters—”

“Easy,” you say in a low voice, as the entirety of the Slytherin Quidditch team glances over at your table, and Fred’s gripping his fork tightly in his other hand. “Don’t need any more of us taken out of the next match, do we?”

Another safety measure of Madam Pomfrey’s. No Quidditch for a few weeks, at least. This means, of course, missing the next match: Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. You’d tried to fight it, but when her mouth had formed into a thin line and she’d crossed her arms indignantly, you knew there was no changing her mind.

Why is it, Fred thinks to himself now, that Slytherins tend to get away with everything? The punishment of the two beaters was absolutely nothing like he’d expected—one detention each with Snape, who had basically grinned at the sight of your broken arm and shoulder. He’s so bloody tired of it, he wants to give them a taste of their own medicine. Perhaps, if he picks George’s brain, he can think of something—

His thoughts are interrupted when you kick him again under the table. “Hello—earth to Freddie?”

“Sorry,” he replies, biting into his toast, “what did you say?”

“I was saying—” you begin, and Fred notices his twin is now down a few seats talking with Ron and Ginny, leaving you two alone, “would you mind helping me pack up my bag after breakfast? It’s proving rather difficult with one arm since I have this sling across my other shoulder—”

Before you can finish, you both hear a group of Hufflepuffs from the table over discussing something animatedly. Fred catches bits and pieces of the conversation—he swears he hears ‘bludgers’ and ‘poor girl’ quite a few times. Before he knows it, they’re standing up and waltzing over to the Gryffindor table—more specifically, toward you.

“Oh bloody hell,” you mumble under your breath and look at Fred with wide eyes. You don’t need to say anything else for him to understand. Leading the pack of distraught looking Hufflepuffs is—Fred’s least favorite person in the entire world, and that’s including Malfoy—your ex boyfriend.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says awkwardly as he approaches the table at once before you and Fred are able to escape. He looks down at your shoulder and says in a tone Fred can’t decipher as sarcastic or genuine, “real sorry about your arm. Terrible thing those beaters did. Are you okay?”

With a slight eye roll from you and a laugh he tries very hard to suppress, Fred finds himself lost in his thoughts again. He’s transported almost immediately to the common room, to a very late Monday night after a very long detention with Professor McGonagall.

When he sprang through the portrait hole that evening, ready to divulge to you just exactly how he’d landed himself in detention the night you were both supposed to continue your weekly Monday traditions of exploding snap over small glasses of Butterbeer, he was a bit taken aback when he saw you crying in the corner, peering out of a window at the starry night sky. Immediately, his insides turned.

“Y/N?’ he asked when he finally reached you, nervous of how you were going to react to his very late arrival.

You sniffled a bit and wiped your tears away with your shirtsleeve. He felt surprised when you said softly, with no twinge of anger, “W-where’ve you been?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, sitting across from you on the window ledge. He let his bag fall to his feet with a dull thump. “McGonagall caught Georgie and me right after class—I was dragged to immediate detention without being able to come back to the common room to tell you—I could use a good butterbeer right now..” but his voice trailed off when he noticed that you weren’t really listening. Your eyes were letting tears escape with no effort, and he spotted your hands trembling against your knees. You weren’t upset about the game of exploding snap. His heart sank into his chest when he realized this was something deeper. “Hey,” he said, placing a hand over yours, “are you okay?”

“H-he,” you started, and Fred could tell that you were embarrassed. You couldn’t even look him in the eye. “It’s over. He broke up with me.”

“W..what?” Fred asked, his hands suddenly felt extremely cold. He squeezed your knee and waited.

“He said he.. sees me as a friend,” you told him, and Fred shook his head in utter shock, “he doesn’t.. feel anything a-anymore. I think..” you continued, your voice slightly higher than before, “I think there’s s-someone else.”

You threw your head into your hands and began wailing. Fred had never, ever, ever seen you cry before, but he didn’t like it. He wanted to do everything in his power to make it stop, make you smile, make you happy.

“What a complete git,” he told you before pulling you into his arms. You were nearly on his lap. You rested your head on his chest and let out painful sobs for a few minutes while he thought, in a panicked state, of words to say. You’d always been tough. Independent. Happy-go-lucky. So to see you in this emotional, co-dependent, messy state—he felt strange. Off balance. It made his heart hurt.

“Hey,” he said after a few minutes once your tears seemed to slow, “how about we make you some tea, get you into some comfortable pyjamas, and then we can talk through it—how does that sound?” When he noticed you were about to argue after pointing to the butterbeer and cards on the table even though he knew you didn’t really want to play, he continued, “Nah—not really in the mood to get my arse kicked by you tonight.”

You laughed through a hiccup and squeezed his hand tightly before pulling his arms around you again. “First, can you—can you just stay here with me?”

He felt you tense up beside him and he knew that you were trying your hardest to fight back more tears rising to the surface. He pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arms tighter around you, enclosing you in the warmth from his own body.

“Okay then,” he replied and felt you relax beside him, “I can do that.”

“Maybe we can—we can talk it over.” Fred’s brought back to the present when he feels yet another light blow to his shin from you under the table. He blinks and looks into your eyes, which are wide, and he feels himself go weirdly alert.

“I don’t think so,” you say to your ex now, almost laughing a bit; he’s looking rather annoyed and stunned at being turned down. You swallow over a lump in your throat, “Besides, I’m—I’m seeing someone else, so, I think you’d better leave.”

“What?” he says breathlessly, almost looking heartbroken. Is he trying to mend his ways after watching you hit the ground with a loud splat! a few days ago? Fred’s insides turn. “Since when?”

“Since..a few weeks ago.” Fred can sense the panic in your voice as he watches your eyes shift from your ex to your breakfast plate and to him, a cherry red color flooding your cheeks and the tips of your ears. And without a second thought, you say, “Right, Fred?”

And Fred’s agreeing before he can fully digest your words, he’s nodding without breaking your gaze, he’s smirking at you without remembering there are other people around him. Finally, he looks up into the very baffled face of your ex boyfriend. “Yeah, we are—so—I’d bugger off if I were you, mate.”

“You two?” he asks, looking at Fred with what can only be described as pure anguish. “Together?”

“It’s time to go,” whispers another Hufflepuff, pulling the very distraught looking boy in front of you both back to their table before he can say anything else to you. Fred watches as he slumps in his seat and rubs his head, as if confused. Then, he turns back to you and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, Freddie, I’m sorry!” you shake your head rather quickly and bring a hand to your mouth in shock. “I panicked, I just—he kept trying to ask me to grab lunch with him, I didn’t know what to say to get him to leave me alone, ‘m so mortified. We can just—pretend it never happened, you don’t have to do anything, I can just deal with whatever it is he has planned, it’s fine—”

“Hey.. take a breath,” he laughs and teases you before reaching across the table and squeezing your hand. “It’s fine, I get it. Besides,” he takes a quick bite of an apple and smirks at you, “I’m honored you chose me to be your fake boyfriend.”

“Well, you’re the only one here, silly.”

He pauses to consider this, and then says, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and tell you again how honored I am.” You laugh at this, and he grins cheekily at you as he continues, “I mean, imagine if you’d done that to George, he would’ve stumbled over his words—you know how he gets under pressure sometimes—gets flabbergasted, he does. You’re lucky ‘m quick on my feet.”

“Well then,” you reply, sipping your tea as Fred watches your nerves subside, “glad to have you along for the ride, Weasley.”

— -

It’s difficult watching the team’s practice. Fred had told you to maybe stay in, not watch, he’d fill you in later on your replacement. You’d insisted on coming anyway. But he was right.

They’re not completely out of sync—the third year Chaser they snatched up is pretty good for never having really played before. But if Fred’s being completely honest, he misses you on the pitch more than anything else. It’s just not the same without you.

You enter the Great Hall for dinner, and you’re so annoyed at doing everything one-armed that you nearly rip the sling right off of your shoulder, even though Madam Pomfrey had insisted on wearing it for two more days. Okay, maybe you did it a little too fast. “Ow,” you say, rotating your shoulder back and forth to stretch the muscles, as if they’d been asleep for months and months. You furrow your brow in pain.

Fred snorts before sipping his pumpkin juice. “How’d that feel?”

“Not the greatest,” you admit, taking a seat next to him.

Just then, he slings an arm around your shoulder and places a light kiss to your forehead, taking you by surprise. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. He places his cup gingerly on the table. “Git sighting, on your right.”

You stealthily look on the other end of the Great Hall, your ex trying his best to look distracted, but there’s no chance in hell he didn’t see this exchange between you and Fred. Solemnly, he follows his fellow Hufflepuffs from the hall.

You both hadn’t even noticed George, Ron, and Harry take their places beside you at the table, eyes wide and faces flushed.

“When the bloody hell did this happen?” Ron nods at the two of you, shoving pork into his mouth.

“I’d like to think if my two best friends got together, they would’ve at least mentioned it to me—how long have you two been sneaking around?” George teases you with a wink.

Both you and Fred let hearty laughs escape your lips, as if to say, Sneaking around? You’re out of your mind, but instead, you both say, “We’re just faking.”

“Come again?” Ron and Harry chorus together.

“Faking—you know, Ronniekins, pretend.” Ron’s ears turn a bright scarlet color. “Just for fun. Y/N’s lovely ex bombarded her the other day after her injury, kept bugging her to grab a bite with him, so she very politely took me by surprise and told him, before consulting me, that we’re dating. Of course I obliged—being the lovely gent I am.”

“It did not happen like that—”

“You’re absolute rubbish at lying, you know.”

You throw your hands up in surrender, your face a nice light shade of rosy pink. “I panicked!”

“Precisely,” Fred and George say together. “And how long are you two planning on keeping this little scheme going for?” George asks.

You and Fred turn to each other. It is now revealed, Fred realizes as he watches as you peer into space, that you have no plan. He leans back in his seat, looking rather satisfied at the fact that you haven’t come up with any details at all. “I—I hadn’t thought of that. I just kind of.. went for it. I was acting on the very daring nerve that comes with being a Gryffindor!”

“Right you were,” says Fred through a mouthful of potatoes, “barely skipped a beat, she did. Reckon she couldn’t wait for it to happen—she nearly pounced on me right in front of him.”

The boys roar with raucous laughter. You roll your eyes and turn your attention to George, Ron, and Harry, who are now wiping away tears from their eyes. “You don’t really believe him, do you? This will not last long. Believe you me. It was purely a spur-of-the-moment adrenaline rush decision.”

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turn back to Fred and ask in a sweetly sarcastic tone, “Yes, Freddie?”

“I’m invoking a rule. No falling in love with one another.” He winks and bites into his chicken.

You scoff at him, while the others chuckle again. “Ah yes, darling—because that’s so very likely.”

— -

When Fred finds you sitting underneath a large oak tree in front of the castle, he laughs softly when he sees you in quite a frazzled looking state: your hair is in disarray from pulling at it, the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven’t slept in days, and he can almost feel the pain radiating from your tired muscles.

He sits down next to you in the grass and teases, “You’re quite a sight for sore eyes.”

“Oh, shove off,” you reply, not even looking up from your books. But after a few seconds of silence, the two of you fall into fits of laughter.

Fred nods at the books you’re so very immersed in. “What’s so important?”

“D’you think,” you begin, flipping the pages rapidly, “if I can find a spell that can produce a change in thought process on another human being, and somehow manage to stealthily pull it off and use it on Madam Pomfrey, she’ll change her mind and let me play in the next match?”

Fred cocks his head to the side, peering admirably at you, and smiles sweetly. “It doesn’t look very likely.”

“Ugh, I thought you’d say that.”

“But hey—there’s always obliviate,”

“Honestly, it’s getting to the point where I’m actually considering it.”

“Sure,” he says teasingly again, “I’d pay quite a lot of galleons to see you use any type of magic on a staff member, let alone something as dangerous as a memory charm.”

You cross your arms defiantly. “Don’t think I’ll do it?”

“No,” he smirks, “I know you won’t do it.”

You narrow your eyes at him and give in. Fred can’t help but laugh. “Okay, well—it would be really dangerous! But c’mon—I’ve gotten involved in a fair share of mischief with you and your brother; need I remind you of the time you landed me in detention my second year? A mere twelve year old, in detention…”

“Reckon that’s when you put this whole fake boyfriend thing into action, did you? When you fell for me all those years ago?”

“Ha-ha, you’re wickedly hilarious, Freddie.. seriously, funniest bloke I’ve ever met..” Your voice trails off when you notice something a few feet away, but Fred’s still thinking about how you called him the funniest person you know, even if it was in a sarcastic tone. But deep down, he knows you’re completely serious. He can feel his heart begin to soar a bit. His meandering mind is interrupted yet again by someone walking along the water’s edge—an unwanted visitor. Quickly, you shift yourself closer to Fred and say in a hushed voice, “Hurry—put your arm around me!”

He can’t help but stifle a laugh at your extremely flustered state. “Anything for my girl.”

You fit in so comfortably in his body that he doesn’t even notice how much time passes by. You spend the afternoon immersed in books, while Fred is resting against the tree, falling in and out of sleep with breaks to fix some malfunctions on some very small inventions of his and George’s. Each and every time he looks up, he notices the very curious looking ex boyfriend of yours watching you both, as if he’s trying his very hardest to prove that the two of you are just pretending. And each and every time Fred turns his attention back toward his inventions, he finds himself pulling you tighter and tighter into his arms.

— -

You and Fred are walking rather reluctantly through the corridors to your next class. If only you both had a free period, you’d be able to catch up on some work. But alas, here you both are, walking very, very slowly to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“How’s the team holding up? I’m dying to get back out there with you.”

“Miss me that much, do you?”

You narrow your eyes and the unmistakable sound of mock laughter from Fred bounces off of the walls. “I miss Quidditch is what I mean. It’s killing me that I can’t join you lot—especially with the match just a week away.”

Fred smiles softly at you, feeling a twinge in his heart, knowing that you won’t be able to play, regardless of your completely healed shoulder. “I know. It’s killing us, too. But come the new year, you’ll—oi, bloody hell, does he just spend his time following us around, or something?”

Fred nods in the direction of the unwanted visitor yet again, and he grabs your hand quickly and continues to walk down the corridor, careful to avoid eye contact. That is, until he corners you both.

It’s not in a violent sort of way—but rather, curious. You’re both bracing yourselves for yet another attempt at getting you to rekindle things, when he takes Fred by surprise. “Why is it, Weasley, that whenever I see you two around, you very quickly grab her hand or sling your arm around her shoulder? What is this—just a ploy?”

“Come on,” you say to him softly, and Fred’s feeling very, very nervous that your facial expression will tell your ex everything he needs to know. “Leave us alone, would you? We’ve got class.”

“Prove it to me, then,” he says now, crossing his arms. “If you two’re really together, then kiss her.”

“What?” you both say aloud, flabbergasted. You look at Fred, who’s doing his very best to bite back a smile, and it’s becoming difficult to not laugh in your ex’s face.

He smirks at the both of you, his cronies surrounding him doing the same thing. Fred squares him up, and it’s easy to tower over him, Fred’s 6’3 frame swallowing him nearly whole. “I don’t think that’s such an odd request—kiss your girlfriend, Weasley, and I’ll leave you be.”

It’s obvious to the both of you, now, that he is basically waiting for you all to admit that yes, you’ve been faking, the entire time it hasn’t been real. You open your mouth to speak and Fred notices the panic in your eyes, the truth bubbling up inside you. So he does the only thing he can think of—he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulls you close to him, and presses his lips to yours.

You try very, very hard to hold back your surprise, because you’re extremely aware of the group of Hufflepuffs now watching you both share a kiss that is supposed to look like it happens all the time. You’re sure you’ve lost your voice now. His lips are soft, softer than they look, and Fred’s finding it difficult to remember why you two haven’t been doing this the entire time. He pulls away very, very slowly, hovering close to you with a cheeky grin on his face, before breaking completely and taking your hand in his again, squeezing tightly. Fred notices the scarlet color of your face now, turns back toward the stunned man in front of him, and replies, “Is that all? My girlfriend and I have class, if you don’t mind—”

You swiftly walk your way through the group and you and Fred nearly fly down the hallway, his face as red as his hair, his smile as bright as the sun, and you bring your hands to your lips and you swear you can feel the electricity surging through them, just as they had when Fred kissed you just a few seconds ago.

“You were going to tell him!” Fred’s laughing now, outside the entrance to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but he can feel his heart thundering in his chest due to the heat of the moment. There’s nothing quite like an adrenaline rush. You reply, “He—he knows we’re lying!”

“Well, now he doesn’t,” Fred replies with a cheeky wink. “C’mon—I made you a deal, didn’t I? Couldn’t let that git get the last word. Now he’s got no bloody idea what’s going on.”

“How can I ever thank you?”

Fred swallows over a lump in his throat, peering deeply into your very bright eyes. He knows what he wants to say, and he’s about too, but something stops him. Something holds him back. Instead, he grins, shakes his head, and slings an arm across your shoulder, making sure to hold onto you just a little bit longer this time.

— -

Fred, George, Ron, and Harry are sitting in the library looking positively ghastly. Ron and Harry are very reluctantly working on a Divination essay that Hermione had finished a week ago, while the twins are racking their brains to finish this petty assignment from Snape.

You wander inside and Fred notices, for the first time in a few days, that your sling is back on your shoulder. Concern floods through his body. “Hey,” he says, immediately pulling you into his arms, “are you okay? Is it bothering you?”

You’re positively beaming—that’s the only way Fred can describe is. Your smile is quite bright, looking happier than you have in months, even with your arm in a sling. “Yeah,” you tell him sweetly, taking a seat next to him, “hurts a little. Probably just slept on it funny, or something.”

“Be careful,” he tells you, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, completely ignoring the assignment in front of him, “let me know if you need to go to the hospital wing, okay?”

You nod and begin to slowly pull spell books from your bag when you notice the others across the table, looking at you both with what can only be described as mischievous grins.

You and Fred look at each other, and then at them. Fred’s hand tightens around your waist. “What?” you ask together.

“You know he isn’t here, right?” Harry asks you both. George and Ron are focusing very hard on their parchments, and are not doing a very good job at stifling their laughter.

It’s almost immediate that Fred unwraps his arm from your waist, and your face is burning with color, and Fred’s insides are beginning to tighten due to embarrassment. But before he can speak and defend his actions, you speak up, “Oh, erm—could’ve sworn I saw him—must’ve been my eyes playing tricks on me, then. Anyway..”

The rest of the afternoon is spent in utter silence, recovering from that tiny slip up and moment of embarrassment. And one by one they leave—first Harry, then Ron, and then George—who, by the looks of it, is nowhere near done with his assignment—but he claims he has somewhere he needs to be, and vanishes through the doors of the library before either you or Fred can do anything.

About an hour later, you ask Fred, “Could Snape be any more vile? Why did he assign this stupid essay again?”

Fred laughs softly, “because some Ravenclaw started insulting his teaching methods in the middle of the lesson—remember?”

“Oh yeah,” you say, the memory coming back to you now. Brightly, you say, “Hey—want to get back at that Ravenclaw and plan some elaborate type of prank to make this whole assignment just a little bit more bearable?”

Fred turns toward you with a surprised expression on his face. He smirks and shakes his head in admiration, “I think I’m becoming a bad influence on you.”

You bat your eyelashes at him and say, “Maybe. Would that be such an awful thing?”

And then he pulls you nearly all the way into his lap, begins tickling you and poking you in the ribs, and you begin to flail in his arms and laugh hysterically, when Madam Pince angrily shushes you from the other end of the library. You flip your hair out of your eyes and regain your composure, and Fred is suddenly very aware that you’re still seated in his lap, your face only inches from his, the bright color of your eyes sparkling in the sun flooding in from the windows. Right. You’re not actually technically together. He swallows thickly and watches as you bite down on your lip. You’re both about to say something, hearts thundering loudly in your chest, when suddenly you break the silence and slide yourself off of him, back into your seat and say, “We’d better head to the feast, Freddie. Don’t want to be late.”

— -

“Anyone fancy a game of exploding snap before bed?”

Ron’s sitting in the middle of the huddle, finishing the last of his dessert from the feast, while everyone around him is slumped in their seats looking positively exhausted.

George says sleepily, “Can’t mate—we’ve got a late night practice tonight.”

“D’you think Angelina will give me a beating if I just sleep through it?” Fred asks nobody in particular, his eyes closed.

“Yes,” you, Harry, George, Ginny and Hermione say together.

“Oh fine, you lot are out,” Ron waves his hand in the direction of the Quidditch players and then glances excitedly at you, Ginny, and Hermione. “Ladies? Anyone? Feeling kind of lucky this evening.”

Ginny snorts at this. “You? Lucky? Luck would be me not absolutely obliterating you in a game—not you winning. That’d be a miracle.” Her older brothers chuckle quite animatedly at this comment; it’s certainly woken them up a bit.

You grin at Ginny and then say to her very angry and embarrassed looking brother, “What she means to say, Ron, is that we’re all kind of exhausted due to lack of sleep, because someone—” you shoot a glance toward another Gryffindor girl on the other end of the Great Hall, “—put an amplifying charm on some Muggle contraption of hers last night, music kept us up till nearly dawn.”

Ron turns back toward his brothers now, looking confused. “No way you could’ve heard that from the girls dormitory, or Harry and I would’ve been up all night, too! So why are you two so bloody exhausted?”

“Usual mischief,” Fred and George chorus together, winking at the youngest male Weasley.

Ginny picks up her bag and says to the group, “I’m heading to bed. You two coming?” she glances at you and Hermione.

You glance back and forth between Ginny and Fred and bite your lip. You’re absolutely knackered, but you wonder whether you should go to practice, just to be there, just to watch, just to show you’re still devoted. Fred picks up on this and shakes his head. “You’re tired—go to bed. Promise you’re not missing much. Reckon we’ll all be rubbish due to exhaustion, anyway.”

“Okay,” you finally reply, albeit begrudgingly. Fred places a quick kiss to your cheek, the group stifles laughter, and you, Hermione, and an extremely baffled Ginny make your way upstairs to the common room, leaving the boys to their jokes in the very crowded Great Hall.

When you enter through the portrait hole, Hermione wishes you both a good evening before heading up the stairs. This leaves you and Ginny alone in a completely desolate common room. You remove your shoes and stand across from the fire, letting the warmth of the flames radiate through your body, when Ginny clears her throat.

“Care to tell me what’s going on between you and my older brother?” she says cheekily, grinning at you. She so very much resembles all of her siblings.

You laugh softly, running a hand through your hair and stretching your arms behind your head. “I thought Ron would’ve told you.. It’s nothing, Ginny. Promise. We’re just pretending. My ex has been strangely remorseful about the breakup lately, trying to get me to talk to him and what not—Fred’s just helping me out a bit.”

“By pretending to date you?”

“Yeah..” you say a bit guiltily now. “Yeah, it sort of happened in a moment of panic. Don’t worry, though. None of it’s real. Just till it gets the other one out of my way—then we’ll go back to normal.” You turn back to face the fire and it suddenly feels much, much hotter than before.

“But this is the normal you actually want, isn’t it?”

This takes you by surprise. You turn back slowly, now facing Ginny, and she’s wearing a genuine grin. “I—I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve watched Fred and George for years,” Ginny tells you, “admiring their recklessness and rebellion—but in turn, this also means I see who they get on with.”

“Meaning?”

She smiles softly, looking a little sulky actually, which is so very unlike Ginny. And she confides in you, and she’s acting very vulnerable which makes your heart soar, “I’d give anything for Harry to look at me the way you look at Fred.”

You swallow over a lump in your throat, and Ginny can easily sense your nervousness. She reaches out and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. In a very hoarse, soft voice, as if your vocal chords have been strained, you plead, “Please, please don’t tell him.”

She doesn’t respond to this exactly, but you know she’ll keep her lips sealed. She asks, “How long?”

“I—I dunno,” you tell her truthfully. You bite your lip to keep your heart jumping out of your throat, “over time, I suppose.” You continue to tell her of how everything unfolded, how Fred had jokingly told you to not develop feelings for him, how he’d kissed you that one day in the corridor.

There’s a few moments of silence between you both, but there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. In fact, it’s the most comfortable you’ve ever been with one another—secretly longing for the boys who don’t seem to look at you both the way you so deeply yearn. Finally, Ginny breaks the tension and says, “Your secret is safe with me. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Is this her way of telling you that Fred doesn’t feel the same way as you? That these feelings you have for him are a hundred percent one sided and are not at all reciprocated? It’s as if she’s reading your thoughts, because she tells you, “I’ve no idea how he feels—he doesn’t tell me anything at all, real git that he is,” you both laugh at this exchange, and Ginny echoes herself, “Just be careful.”

“I will,” you reply, now realizing that she’s has given you quite a lot to think about, “Thanks, Gin.”

— -

Fred’s feeling positively blue, if you will. He’s standing smack in the middle of the corridor in his Quidditch robes after a truly rubbish weekend practice, staring at the spot you were just standing. It’s like you’re still there, he can still smell your perfume, but he reckons you’ve probably already made it back to the common room by now.

Just then, he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in surprise, and turns around only to be face to face with George and Ginny, who laugh at his skittishness.

“You alright, mate? Coming to the Great Hall?”

“Yeah.” Fred’s voice sounds vastly different in his own ears; it’s hoarse and broken, and he doesn’t understand why. He coughs a bit, and then echoes himself, “Yeah,” except he doesn’t believe it, and neither do his siblings.

George stops bouncing his broomstick between his hands at once. He looks once at Ginny and then back at Fred as the corridor begins to fill with students, “What’s going on?”

“Sh-she ended it,” he replies, and the words feel foreign in his mouth.

“Who, Y/N? The.. fake thing?” George asks, lowering his voice. “Maybe the git is finally leaving her be.”

“No, that’s not it. She wouldn’t tell me. She was.. weirdly quiet. She told me that she was worried things are going to get messy and she’s afraid rules are being broken on her end.. has she said anything to either of you? What is she even talking about?”

George responds quickly with a, “No, nothing,” whereas Ginny hesitates a bit, and then responds, “No, Freddie. She hasn’t.” But Fred can sense that his little sister isn’t giving him all of the info. Had she talked to you? Does she know what’s going on? Then George nudges his brother and asks a bit cheekily, “Does this make you upset?”

“No, no, of course not!” Fred says a bit aggressively, but both of his siblings just cock their heads to the side, as if to say, Really, Freddie, we can see right through you. “I—I mean—I just.. thought we were having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah,” George begins, while Ginny remains quiet by his side, “okay, you were having fun, but.. what I’m asking you, Fred, is—do you maybe want to be with her for real? And that’s why you’re upset?”

When Fred doesn’t answer, Ginny finds her voice. “We know, Fred.”

“Know what?”

George and Ginny say together, “That you fancy her.”

Fred runs a hand through his hair. He’s feeling aggravated now—he doesn’t like when his mind and thoughts get picked apart by people closest to him, especially when he’s trying on his own to piece together exactly how he feels. But he comes to realize, as his heart begins to beat faster when he thinks of you, that his siblings are right. He’s felt this way for a very, very long time.

Without showing just how much he really feels for you, Fred tells them, “Yeah, erm, okay, I—maybe I have some.. feelings,” he says through gritted teeth and George can’t help but stifle a laugh at his twin’s nervousness. Fred punches him in the arm. “But she kept saying that she’s breaking rules—but what rules? I haven’t the foggiest what she’s on about! I don’t even know if she feels the same way!”

“Fred,” Ginny says quietly, “you jokingly made one rule with her when you two began this whole ridiculous stunt.” When Fred just looks at his sister quizzically, wondering what the bloody hell she’s on about, she opts to continue, “you told her you’re not allowed to fall for one another.”

Realization hits Fred like a ton of bricks, George throws his hands up in confusion, and Ginny pushes on Fred’s chest and grins cheekily at her older brother, leaving poor George baffled beyond belief at this secret language his other two siblings seem to have. Ginny nods in the direction of the common room, “Just go get her already, would you?”

And Fred’s flying through the corridors and up the stairs, he’s pushing past students and professors alike, he’s running hands through his messy, windswept hair and he’s climbing through the portrait hole, only to find you sitting on the ledge near the window looking out at the stars, just as you had all those long months ago when he found you crying.

“Hey, Freddie,” you say when you turn to face him. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer—he pushes past the desks and chairs blocking him from you and does the one and only thing he wants to do, the only thing he’s ever wanted to do for as long as he can remember now—he scoops you up into his arms, presses his forehead to yours, and kisses you. For real, this time.

Your surprise is overridden by the slight, exasperated moan that escapes your lips before you wrap your hands around the back of his neck. His fingers are dancing across your hip bones and then make their way up your back and into your hair. He kisses you once, twice, three more times before fully breaking, and hovers close to you again before pulling away completely to see the sparkle in your eyes, the bright smile plastered across your face.

As you push down any nervousness rising to the surface with a quick swallow, you say, “So.. where’ve you been?”

Fred laughs haughtily now, remembering that time all those few months ago when you’d said the exact same thing in a completely different context. He’s finding it beyond difficult to not kiss you into oblivion right now, especially as you bite on your bottom lip to try and suppress a very large grin.

“Sorry, love, I got tied up with my thoughts—but I can stay here with you now.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace before his lips find yours again. You can both hear voices outside the portrait whole. It’s obvious to you now that you have mere seconds before your alone time will be so very rudely interrupted by fellow Gryffindors.

“I broke the rules,” you tell him with slight tears in your eyes, playing with the baby fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Me too,” he admits breathlessly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I broke them a long time ago.” His heart begins to thunder inside of his chest at the feeling of your lips forming a smile against his, and he’s almost positive you can hear it—but he doesn’t care. He wants you to know you get his heart racing—more than pranking, more than firewhisky, more than Quidditch—more than anything or anyone in the entire world. He continues after another small kiss, “I reckon some rules are meant to be broken, though, aren’t they?”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, darlings. thank you for reading and requesting, much love x

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #hp imagine #fake dating tropes #ron weasley #ginny weasley #harry potter #hermione granger

512 notes · View notes

naferty · 3 years

Note

any fanfics that’d you recommend of the team being protective of omega tony? ✨

Here are some! Not as many as I had thought, but hope you enjoy!

~~~

Steve/Tony

Not This Omega by Annehiggins With Stane dead, Tony has to find a mate or lose controlling interest in his company, so it's time to throw an omega ball. Tony has a plan, but doesn't count on the drug in his drink. Now he's stuck with a mate who doesn't seem all that into him.

You Know Who I Am by BuckyAboveEverything Young Tony Stark is forced to marry Captain America. It is either the best or worst thing to happen to him.

Rockabye by BladeoftheNebula (highly recommend their entire series) Cute alphas didn’t appear out of nowhere to help ruined omegas. That was a widely accepted fact. Tony Stark had always known his life wouldn’t be easy as a genius omega in an alpha’s world. But not even he predicted getting knocked up and forced to move to a small town in the middle of nowhere.

What it’s worth by masterlokisev159 Tony's scent is off. Wanda realizes why.

Parabol/Parabola by chaoticcollectorchaos_me (recommend their series as well) When a dead body is discovered, the Avengers become murder suspects.

More than blood and bone by MountainRose, szzzt He turned his head, getting his nose right up in the scrap of cloth draped over his chin and shoulder and inhaling the scents of team. Mostly Steve; this was the handkerchief he carried in an inner pocket, reeking of his exhausted sweat but not of pain, reassuring Tony that he was basically whole and uninjured. There were traces of the rest of the team too, that the medic would have collected on their rounds before tucking the cloth into the gurney with Tony. Tony inhaled again and felt himself relaxing. Everyone was okay, battered adrenaline-sharp and weary after battle but okay. So much better than waking up in the suit smelling nothing but his own pain.

A tough battle leaves Iron Man injured and grounded. Luckily the Avengers are a strong pack, even with half their lead pair down, and pulling them tighter will help their omega recover; it's a virtuous cycle Tony never thought he'd be lucky enough to be part of.

Bucky/Tony

Beginning and the End by Shi_Toyu Tony Stark: Genius, Billionaire, Omega, Philanthopist, Youngest Member of the AvengersJames "Bucky" Barnes: Soldier, Alpha, HYDRA Asset, Besotted Fool

Broken Wings and Such by arianapeterson19 Steve was the one who insisted they have a team bonding in the wilderness. If it had been left up to Tony they would have just bonded in the Tower, where it was not outside. But does anyone listen to Tony? No. OR The one where Tony breaks his wing and the team finds out he's an omega.

You Are My Sunshine by EchoSiriusRumme Tony is captured and deaged while on a business trip, but the team - his family - jumps right into action to take care of their tiny, shy resident genius while they figure out how to fix this. Or at least, they try to, concern growing each time he freezes at the sight of Steve.But that was something personal, whispered to Bucky between frustrated tears one night, so Bucky wouldn’t be telling that secret unless push came to shove. Too bad for Tony....it does.

#text post #fic recs #good ol' protective avengers

68 notes · View notes

crazy4myself · 4 years

Text

No Harm List Pt.2

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Violence or threats of violence, explicit language, charicter death, implications of murder, mentions of blood, mentions of nudity, blow job jokes,

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

a/n: sorry for the tragic backstory I didn’t mean for Hobi to get that dark, but whoop here we aree

--------

To both your relife and dismay, your life immediately returned to normal after receiving the shoes. While you were a bit wearier about walking home from work, you found no reason to hang on to the adventures of that night or the three charming men you encountered, so you told yourself to forget about it and put it behind you. And you did.

Until a few days later, when you met your best friend Hoseok for lunch.

"What the hell happened to your face" he demanded in the way of greeting.

You sighed, knowing you were going to have to tell him sooner or later, but in defense of your face, it was only peppered with a few scratches and a small yellowing bruise from when you fell. It was otherwise fine.

"You should have seen the other guy," you teased as you set your backpack down in the spare seat. Hoseok already ordered your usual for you like the angel he was, and you immediately shoved a bite of the sandwich in your mouth.

"No," he snapped, swiping the plate from you, "explain first, eat second."

"Hobi, please, I've been in class all day I'm starving," You whined in protest, reaching for your plate, but he set his lip in a firm pout, his dimples framing his upper lip and you lost the battle before it began. With a sigh, you caved, giving him a thorough retelling of the night with all the details you dare give him without, in turn, giving him a heart attack.

"He called you Cinderella and bought you new shoes," he asked with a smile brighter than the sun stretching across his face.

You groaned, "Please don't romanticize this. I'm never going to see him again, and can we mourn the fact that I have to find a new dealer. Mid Terms are around the corner, and Organic Chem is kicking my ass."

"I'm not mourning any of your bad habits."

"Oh my gosh, you're the one who told me about it," you defended in disbelief.

"At the time, I didn't think your ass was dumb enough to go for it. I had a high opinion of you back then," he huffed before handing you back your plate.

Your argument died on your lips as you stuffed your lunch in your mouth and ravaged it. Hobi watched you eat an expression of disgust and mild fascination on his face as you near deep throated a 6-inch sub.

"Stop acting like a hoe in Subway. I think the cashier is about to pop a boner," he chastised.

You looked up to see the man was, in fact, staring at you as you ate. You shot him a flirtatious wink as spinach fell out your mouth. "Let him."

"Why do I hang out with you?"

"Because I make a great company and have hot friends," you responded cooly as you licked your fingers clean.

Both were very true, but not the reason for your friendship. You were roommates with Hoseok's little sister, your freshman year of college. She took you under her wing since you were an international student, and you met Hobi that way.

Your weekends were often filled with the smiles of the Jung siblings and mischief that always came with it. You and Dawon grew incredibly close, she even offered to let you stay with her and Hobi over the summer while you were still apartment hunting come the end of the spring term.

Dawon's friendship was that one in a lifetime bond you can only get from enduring college together. The two of you were going to watch each other grow into badass boss bitches after graduation, stand in each other's weddings, be the godmother to each other's children. It was a friendship written in the stars, so you were devastated when she passed before the spring semester even ended.

The authorities claimed that Dawon was shot in a robbery gone wrong. A loss of life over something as petty as a chunk of change in her wallet. The murder wasn't caught the night of the attack, and for a time, the lack of closure ripped you apart.

You didn't even know the first day after it happened. She was shot during finals week, you were nearly camped out in the library the whole week. When she stopped responding to your texts, you just assumed she was buckling down on studying like you were. You were so caught up in your own life that you didn't get worried enough to reach out to Hobi until 18 hours after her death.

You don't remember what happened after ending the phone call or what you did, you went into shock and next thing you knew you RA was letting Hoseok into your dorm room after she received the news.

What you didn’t know what that the call never ended.

Hoseok never hung up.

Hobi stayed on the phone with you the whole time, murmuring gentle reassurances, not knowing if you could hear him or not, but knowing he could only hear your shallow breaths. He stayed on the phone with you even as he arrived on campus and entered your dorm, asking for the person on duty to find someone to let him in.

He stayed on the phone with you as he explained to your RA what happened, and watched her shed tears over his sister and struggled to give her condolences. He didn't hang up until he was in your room and wrapping his arms around you. Gently removing the phone from your ear as you stood frozen in place, before he sat you on the carpet.

The dam of emotions had burst at his touch, the feeling of comfort confirming the reality that your best friend was gone. He rocked you like a child until you nearly exhausted yourself and stayed with you through that night.

You don't remember much about the days following. You were a ghost of yourself as you finished your last two finals and packed up your belongings along with Dawon's to move out of your dorm.

There was a small service you attended that was filled with mostly strangers. Which only reminded you that you were only in her life for 10 months, a small fraction of the time she blessed this world. It only took a week for her to become one of the most important people to you, but to everyone else that ever knew her, you were just her roommate.

You do remember that summer, though. Hoseok honored his sister's wish and allowed you to stay with him while you looked for a place to live. You were a comfort to each other. The first two weeks you spent most nights sitting out on his balcony and letting him tell stories of him to his sister. On occasion, you exchanged one of your own; each seemed to paint the picture and make it seem like she might have been there sitting with the two of you.

Then something changed in Hoseok, the authorities got a lead on the identity of the murderer, a member of the notorious gang the Razor Gulls. After that, Hobi started going out at night and not coming back until early in the morning. You didn't know what he was up to, you never asked.

You got worried when his boss reached out to you because he stopped going to work for a week, you covered for him and told him that Hobi needed some time off to mourn. After that, you started to insist you eat dinner together each night before he went out. You prepared a decent meal and sat at the table and talked about mundane things. He smiled for you, but you could see the light dimming in his eyes. You could see the mask he put on for his family and friends who came to mourn her weeks ago, who still called on the occasion to check in on him, start to crack.

You began to put off your apartment hunting to prolong your time with him simply so he wouldn't be alone. Simply, to make sure someone knew he came home safe each night. What you should have done for Dawon. The only thing you could do for her now.

You don't know what happened that night on June 13th, you never asked, but you had a good idea. It was a hot and humid night, like most summer nights in the port town, but this one was especially miserable.

You couldn't keep the sticky feeling of the sweat off your palms, no matter how many times you wiped them dry. You were sitting in the living room watching shitty TV, hoping maybe this would be one of the nights that Hobi would come home early when he stumbled through the front door. At first, you thought he was drunk, but as you got closer, as you saw the blood on his clothes, you knew it was something different.

You called his name repeatedly before you got any kind of response. When he looked up at you, his eyes were vacant. There was no joy, no smiles. It made your chest tight how he seemed to look past you. It stirred up memories of the night he came to the dorm to check on you.

"Hobi, wha-" you took a look at the blood on his clothing to make sure it wasn't his own before leading him to the bathroom. You started the shower for him and stripped him of his shirt and pants leaving him in his boxers with small but firm orders to get cleaned up. You put the soiled clothing in a full trash bag shuffling around the take out containers and to shift it closer to the middle of the bag before taking the trash out to the apartment complex's dumpster.

When you got back inside, you went to his room and grabbed some boxers, sweats, and the first t-shirt you could find before heading back in the bathroom.

Through the marbled glass door of the shower, you could see that he somewhat followed your directions. He was standing under the running water of the shower, still dazed. The drained water was still tinged a slight rust color from the filth on his hands.

With a sigh, you pushed back the door and crawled in the shower with him, your shirt immediately sticking to your back as it went under the jets stream. If Hoseok was aware of his company, he remained unphased as you soaped up a loofa and began scrubbing down his back and arms and squatting down to get his legs. This was not the first time seeing the man naked, you skinny-dipped with him in the hot springs outside of town more than a few times this past winter.

Still, you kept your eyes high as you turned him to get his chest and neck as well as gently rub at the flecks of blood dried on his cheek. The toned muscle of his body showed that dancing used to be more than just a hobby for him. And you admired the careful strength wrapped in his unblemished golden skin.

It wasn't until you lathered your hands with shampoo and reached your arms up to wash his hair that a broken sob escaped his chest.

"I know," you murmured to him as you massaged his scalp with your fingers, his entire body rocking with his tears. You didn't know, you didn't have a clue, but Hoseok felt himself clinging to confidence in your words. You weren't dismissing his cries you saw and felt each one.

He tilted his head back at your gentle guidance and focused on breathing as the warm water washed through his hair.

He nearly composed himself as you conditioned his hair, quickly only letting out soft whimpers by the time you turned off the water. You toweled the two of you off quickly, dressing him in his sweats before deciding you needed the shirt more than him and traded your soaked tee for his. It fell just above your knee, and you wore shorter things in the club, so you deemed it an appropriate nightgown for the night before leading Hoseok to his room where you joined him in bed.

The silence was only broken by small sniffles as he hugged you before you finally asked in the darkness, "Do you want to talk about it?"

His body shuttered with another sob as he let out a broken no in response. You didn't push after that; you only began stroking your fingers in his hair, pushing it back from his face, like he once said his mother used to.

"Do you want me to go?" you asked softly, he shook his head buried in your shoulder, and that was that. You stayed with him, letting him mourn and process and slowly reel himself back together again as he desperately tried to fill the void in his chest. You held him as his sobs became sniffles and slowly drifted into soft snores, and even when your own eyes drooped, you held him through the night.

The next morning you woke up alone in Hobi's empty bed to the smell of bacon. When you wandered out of the room, you saw him dressed and smiling as he placed a plate of food on the table.

"I thought we could eat breakfast before I head into work," he offered as an explanation pulling the juice out of the fridge.

You tried not to be too thrown by his sudden change in mood and instead basked in the glow of his smile, as you joined him for the quiet meal. You insisted on doing the dishes so he wouldn't be late, and he thanked you before hurrying out the door.

You turned on the TV as you scraped the grease from the pan and into the trash, hearing the morning news drone on until something caught your attention. The reporter went on explaining how Kim Martin, the robber responsible for Jung Dawon's murder, was found dead in an alley in the 7th ward last night.

---

"So when is your next day off?" Hoseok asked as he stole a kettle chip from your bag, pursing his lips at the salt and vinegar. It was his least favorite flavor, but the fucker insisted on eating your food.

"Umm today might be the only day for a while, I'm scheduled for like every day this week, why?"

"You didn't take off for a while to lie low?" he questioned in disbelief.

"No, why would I? They aren't after me or anything they're after Bambie," you said, choosing to stick with the code name you gave Jungkook.

If he wasn't going to reveal your identity to his friends, you wouldn't tell yours, besides you were fairly certain Hoseok was involved in some gang shit and you were not about to give him the motive to dig into anything deep. Especially when people were getting assaulted for it.

"Y/N, you don't know how guys like this work they hold grudges," he warned.

"Look, this was nearly 5 days ago, I technically did lie low. And besides, I'm trying to take off for Mid Terms next month, I need to be able to pay my rent to do so,"

His face fell immediately "Y/N, you know if you ever need help you could always-"

"Hobi, what is rule number one of living in Alcor?"

"Don't eat the chili fries at Dax's."

You gave him a knowing look, and he slumped in his chair with a sigh, "Don't borrow money from anyone."

"Exactly, those were the exact orders you gave me my first week of living here, and I intend to stick to it,"

"Yeah, but I would like to think I'm different, that you could trust me to not hold that against you,"

You turned away from the hurt in his eyes with a sigh, "Look, I'll be extra careful, and besides, I should be done with the night shifts by the end of the month if the scholarship for med school goes through," you said with a smile. At the reminder, Hoseok immediately lit up.

"We need to plan your graduation party."

"Hobi, I don't want a-"

"I was thinking I could maybe rent a private room at the new club in BP" he continued ignoring your protest.

You graduate undergrad in 56 days. Then the two weeks later, you immediately start summer classes for Medical School. Alcor University's medical program was intensive, and one of the best in the world. And while the tuition for your bachelors was covered entirely by scholarship, you were still scrambling to afford the cost of living in the city.

Medical School was a whole different story, you just got your acceptance letter for the fast-tracked program last month. This program took your four years of schooling before residency and shoved it in about two and a half years of non-stop classes, no summer or winter breaks the only school.

You can't imagine having to work while going through such intensive studies, so you have been applying for scholarships and grants non-stop since your acceptance. Hoping you can scramble enough money to meet your living needs, so you only have to work weekends at 929. You even debated on moving into an apartment with a few more roommates just to lower your rent a little more.

Hobi continued to lay out his plans for your graduation party, it started sounding like a 3-day event. Still, maybe you were in need of a little fun before you entered your academic hell.

---

Min Yoongi parked his bike on a side road, securing the helmet to its lock before making his way down one of the main streets in the 6th ward. After reviewing some of the footage on the few surveillance cameras in the area, he found that the two thugs who snuck up on Jungkook that night were members of the Black Tips, a gritty gang from the 6th ward itching to expand their territory.

It was likely the thugs just saw Jungkook and decided to act out on their own to help pull them up the ranks, but to be safe, Yoongi has Jin, their best spider after Taehyung, keeping an ear out to make sure it wasn't a direct order from their higher-ups.

The city of Alcor was the large and filthy port city that served as the capital of Kros, a small merchant nation that was ruled by capitalism. In Kros, the market was more powerful than any politics making the two interchangeable when it came to state affairs.

Alcor is formally split into 11 wards, but most would say the city is clearly divided in two, the East and the West. The scumball that is the West was made up of Wards 4-9. The 4th and 5th warehouse districts make for a slow gradient through the ghettos and underdeveloped, impoverished areas, until you reach the 9th ward. The Pleasure Ward. A place of gambling halls, raunchy street vendors, and brothels.

No single gang owns the massive tumor that is the 9th ward, but neighborhoods and territories could be claimed. While BTS's stronghold lay firmly in the 7th ward, they had a handful of investments in the 9th, the most prominent being The Bulletproof Casino, the largest and most successful gambling hall in the Westside.

Bulletproof had undergone three expansions since its opening seven years ago. And thanks to the smart guidance of the founder and the gang's leader RM, it has quickly put a handful of half-assed lesser halls out of business. One of them being the Golden Drop, the Black Tips old club. Things have been tense since they sold their business to a Mr.Kim Namjoon two years ago, only to find the businessman had turned around and immediately sold the plot of land to BTS. The poor bastards didn't have a clue that the whole transaction was done by RM the entire time. He's done well to keep up his alias in his upcoming years.

Suga wished that Jungkook would do the same.

It sure would keep him out of a hell of a lot more trouble, incidents like the other night wouldn't have happened if the runt knew how to keep his head down, but the younger generations were not fond of street names.

Only Taehyung, who went by V, kept his because RM required that dealers have them to make it harder to get busted by cops in case some doped up idiot ever gets caught. But Taehyung has nearly grown out of the name as he's proved himself to be much more than a dealer.

The boy was cut from the same cloth as his cousin Jin and proved himself to be an excellent spider. A position not too far from being a spy, a collector of secrets and information from any person around the city. Possibly an even better one as Jin continues to slowly become the public face of The Bulletproof Casino, dealing with investors and stockbrokers of higher society has made it harder for him to blend in with the lowlifes of the West Side. Taehyung, however, has found himself able to worm his way in and out of the upper and lower class seamlessly and always dug up the dirt BTS needed.

What sets RM apart from the other scum of the lower West was he had an eye for all the currencies in life and invested in each of them; coin, knowledge, talent, and secrets. It was the secrets he held on nearly every big name in the city that slowly made BTS untouchable. Helping them live to their claim of being bulletproof.

Maintaining the dignity of the gang was how they ensured they lived up to that claim. That was why Suga was here to track down the two punks that tried to take out one of their own.

A member of their inner circle no less. BTS's civilian network was massive, every employee at every business they owned or invested in was loyal to BTS either willingly or out of obligation.

RM was known for helping relieve people from their debts, give them a second chance at life and allow them to pay him back at a much reasonable pace than any collector would allow. And they could do it financially, through their labor, or their services. Taking small jobs offered by a darker clientele. Slipping poison in a cup, being a lockpick in a heist, cutting the breaks in someone's car. These risks helped clear a large portion of the debt they may owe.

BTS also had members, their Army, people who would take the tattoo on their arm knowing it acted as both a shield and a target, but it gave them a place and a family to belong to when they lacked either. Being an Army of BTS ensured you a job, shelter, and a full stomach all luxuries on the west side.

Finally, within the members was their inner circle, people with titles who sat at RM's round table, because the corny bastard actually had a round dining table for family dinner which was scheduled to take place once a week, but happened most nights organically because his brothers liked to stay together.

Suga has been part of the inner circle since BTS was born from a gang raid gone wrong. He and Namjoon were just two bastards who came out of the rubble fighting and built the empire they had now over the past 7 years. He served as Namjoon's second before there was even an option for a third.

And if the day ever comes when Namjoon is ready to step down and hand JK the reigns, a thought he entertains with Yoongi and Jin on quiet nights at the Den, Yoongi supposes he will serve as Jungkook’s second too. If the little brat would have him. He can't imagine himself walking away from the life he lives now.

He holds nothing against Jin and Namjoon for wanting to leave. Holds nothing against them for wanting to live a quiet life with their partner, where they don't have to put their life, or someone else's on the line. Yoongi just can't imagine himself doing the same. BTS has always been his purpose; he loves his brothers and the world he's built for himself. He even likes it on days he has to clean up after snotty-nosed bunny teethed brats.

Jon Waters was such a mundane name. Suga had to believe that the man covered himself in tattoo's to compensate for it. Especially as he entered the rundown pawnshop with bars on its windows and door to see how tacky they were in person.

"You got a lotta nerve comin' into my shop," Jon growled the moment the bell alerted him of Suga's presence.

"You have a lot of nerve coming after my kid in the middle of the night. Tell me did you cry when you got your ass handed to you by some college girl," he mocked

Jon's eyes narrowed as his hand reached under the cabinet for his gun, "I'll kill you."

"1421 Lilac Drive" was his Dull response. Jon's eyes widened in shock.

"That's your sister's address, right? I gotta say you did well when your mom ditched you guys, joining a gang to provide for her. Quite noble. Sending her off to university, she didn't graduate, though," he sent a taunting smile. "Who needs your masters when you can get your Mrs. I'm sure it was easy for her to marry rich with an ass like that."

"Watch it," he snapped.

"Oh, it's hard not to. But not for long I hear she is carrying, things tend to sag after having a baby." Suga mused lazily.

"What's your point, you think knowing who my sister is, is going to scare me?"

"It should. Especially since I have someone stationed outside her house right now, and if I don't walk out of here. Hell, if I come out with my hair a little ruffled, they have orders to shoot."

"You're fucking bluffing."

"Do you really want to test me?" Jon's lips became a thin line as he made a point to take the magazine out of his gun and set them both on the counter between them.

"Goodman," Suga taunted as he locked the door of the shop and flipped the sign to close. "Now let's talk,"

---

Your day was much less interesting after your lunch with Hobi, you had one more lab before you dragged yourself to the library to get some studying done.

You were returning to your mundane struggling college student mindset as you stepped onto the elevator to take you to the fifth floor, the quietest and therefore, your favorite floor, in the library.

You were so caught up in responding to a friend about going to see her art exhibit in a few weeks that you almost didn't notice someone standing in front of the elevator doors as it stopped on the third floor.

You glanced up mindlessly and locked eyes with a familiar set of brown, doe eyes.

Which was fitting since Jungkook very much looked like a deer caught in headlights. He stood in front of you, wearing all black, which led you to think that was his usual attire. His backpack was slung over one shoulder, and you noticed the hand that gripped it was bound in a black brace.

You were his mirror as you both gaped at each other, for an unreasonably long amount of time, not knowing what to do.

You opened your mouth to break the silence when the doors began to slide shut, seeming to break Jungkook from his trance as he backed away from the elevators and sped towards the stairs deciding he could use the cardio anyways.

Jungkook felt a myriad of confusing emotions as he descended the stairs to the library. But he knew he sure did feel stupid.

He felt stupid for trying to board an elevator with the up arrow lit up when he wanted to go down to the first floor. He figured his lazy ass would ride it up and back down a few minutes and save himself the effort.

He also felt stupid for walking away. Getting in the elevator with you would have been awkward, but now that he walked away, he probably made himself seem like a creep. You seemed a little suspicious of him the night you met, but now you were definitely going to think he was in some sketchy gang shit.

And of course, he was, but he didn't want you to know that.

Jungkook also felt stupid for being worried about what you might think of him. While he was now charged with making sure your life was never at risk in the 7th ward, he wasn't supposed to ever really see you or talk to you again.

On a campus of 15,000+ students, he was certain he has never seen you in his life, but of course, he sees you now. In the library of all places.

But most of all, Jungkook felt stupid for being excited to see you. To see that the bruise on your cheek had faded to a healthy yellow and that your leggings were tucked comfortably in the black boots, he got you.

Either you didn't have a lot of shoes, or you actually liked his gift. He smiled to himself at the second thought.

Jungkook's thoughts were filled with you as he made his way back to the Den. He wondered if he might happen upon seeing you on campus regularly, or if he blew his one time chance.

He would like to think that he would say hi next time he stumbled across you. He wondered if you were graduating soon and leaving town or if you would be in the city for a while longer. The part of Alcor you were in wasn't the nicest, but he liked the thought of you getting to move uptown some after you graduate and maybe seeing you in your favorite coffee shop.

You were kind and funny and didn't completely freak out at the fact that Jungkook was mugged, and that they tried to chase you and possibly kill you for helping him escape. He liked the thought of having a friend outside of BTS who didn't care about what he did like you might.

Jungkook was thinking about you even as his phone buzzed with a text from RM with orders for a family dinner tonight.

a/n: So this isn’t quite what I wanted to be, but I really wanted to get something out for you guys to read. I already started pt.3 and have BIG plans. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Please comment and let me know if you want to see more. and what you liked, loved, or hated about it. I can only learn from feedback :)

-> pt. 3

625 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

@spikeface

ohhhh hell yeah I have not forgotten, like I tend to keep the examples limited to interactions with Scott to point out the blatant double standards in play but also because I am so tired of the abuse apologism arguments that come with any criticism of Derek’s actions in regards to teenage characters in the first two seasons in general, like, I know the dude had a hard time that doesn’t mean paying that forward is an acceptable standard of behavior for interacting with scared and vulnerable teenagers. ALSO not to bring it back around to Scott AGAIN but also umm Im me so okay I will I have the go-ahead, but like......literally every single argument and justification people make about Derek’s behavior and choices in the first two seasons because of what happened with Kate and how he doesn’t trust people because of that and he’s traumatized is rendered null and void by their simultaneous bullshit insistence that none of this logic means anything when it comes to Scott and.....wait for it....what happened with Theo and trust and traumatized or does being betrayed by someone you were starting to consider a good friend and murdered not count as trauma? I forget.

You can’t have it both ways but people are like Yes I can *rolls up sleeves* watch me.

Aaaaaand since we’re already here, why not, I’m going for it, soooooo getting in on the ground floor before people are like WELL THAT’S DIFFERENT BECAUSE STILES TRIED TO WARN SCOTT SO HE SHOULD’VE KNOWN UNLIKE DEREK WHO COULDN’T HAVE, umm:

a) that’s not how trust works, its not by proxy, you either trust someone or you don’t and someone else telling you that you shouldn’t does not in fact render a betrayal of trust any less a betrayal of trust, this is LITERALLY just victim-blaming the betrayed, something that people are absolutely aware of because just imagine the shrieks of protest if someone were to posit an AU where someone warned Derek not to trust Kate but he still did anyway and so that made everything else that happened all his fault.

b) you do not owe even your best friends unconditional trust in every opinion they have OVER your own opinions, it honestly truly DEEPLY makes me uncomfortable how often people raise this point because Stiles could distrust Theo all he wanted, Scott is still entitled to his own opinions based on his own perceptions of his own interactions with Theo, which were different than Stiles’ interactions, and Scott was in no way, shape or form obligated to uphold Stiles’ perceptions and interactions of and with Theo as more important than Scott’s own, what even is that wtfuckery

c) Stiles’ distrust of Theo was unfortunately watered down and diluted by the fact that he was lying to Scott and keeping secrets from him for weeks, which was his right and he was traumatized himself by what happened with Donovan, but the flip side of that is Scott was keenly aware that Stiles was lying to him about stuff and even had a whole freaking monologue about it and how he wished Stiles would just talk to him and tell him what he was hiding and in what universe is someone obligated to unconditionally believe their friend and abide by what they’re saying and wanting WHILE AT THE EXACT SAME TIME being lied to by that same friend?

d) Stiles’ distrust of Theo was additionally watered down and diluted by the fact that even after he had actual foolproof evidence that Theo was a liar and not to be trusted, he refrained from informing Scott of this because he prioritized his own feelings about what might come out about him in the process of telling Scott, which again, was absolutely his right to do and be worried about but it is NOT his right to be retroactively extradited from any role he played in Scott’s perceptions of events that season by not divulging this information even while actively still JUDGING Scott for not acting on information re: Theo that Scott literally did not have to act upon, just his own interactions with Theo where Theo was actively and continually working on being seen as not only trustworthy but INVALUABLE in Scott’s eyes, while everyone else was off preoccupied with their own stuff leaving Scott with no one BUT Theo to turn to. Which was literally Theo’s entire plan in dividing them in order to make Scott vulnerable in the first place, just as Scott ultimately was more victimized by Theo than any of the other surviving members of S5 as he was the one y’know, MURDERED, but again let’s talk some more about how it was Stiles and everyone else who was more betrayed and let down by Scott’s choice to trust Theo than Scott was himself

(and so help me GOD if someone brings up Josh or Tracy like they give a fuck about them, lolol, fun fact, but most of the posts about Josh and Tracy in S5 while it was airing were mine, like, 90% of their tags was me posting, yeah c’mon guys we’re aware I can be prolific when I hyper-fixate I’m not exaggerating here lol I POSTED ABOUT JOSH A LOT OKAY lololol. So I keenly remember the weeks between Josh’s death episode and the episode which revealed that Scott got to Deucalion before Theo did, because that was two whole weeks of people being like who the fuck cares about Josh, other than like, me and some mutuals, until the SECOND fandom found a way to spin Scott as being tangentially responsible for Josh’s death, at which point suddenly it was like OMG JOSH WE LOVED YOU ALL ALONG, WE’RE SO SORRY THAT MONSTER DID THIS TO YOU. The whiplash would be hilarious if I didn’t hate it so much)

e) Stiles’ distrust of Theo was additionally watered down and diluted by the fact that he was WRONG about everything he initially brought up as WHY he distrusted Theo, his whole thesis to Scott at the start of the season was that he didn’t trust Theo because he remembered Theo from fourth grade and Theo wasn’t Theo but uh.....yes he was. He wanted Scott not to trust Theo on a basis that was flawed and had no grounding in reality other than Stiles’ own unreliable gut instincts with no care or concern whatsoever for Scott’s own gut instincts, and simultaneously, Stiles in the throes of being like THEO IM ON TO YOU YOU FAKER (Theo in the distance: Lol no you’re not, you just don’t like me, there’s a difference), ANYWAY, Stiles at the exact same time as being focused on not just Theo but what he felt Scott SHOULD be doing and thinking in regards to Theo and Stiles’ opinions, somehow managed to completely overlook and give no fucks about Scott’s ACTUAL thoughts and actions re: Theo, as if he had been paying more attention to the actual character of his friend rather than just his perception and assumptions about his friend, he would have noticed that Scott DIDN’T blindly trust Theo from the start, because Scott DOESN’T actually blindly trust anyone and actually has trust issues out the wazoo from all the times he’s been hurt, betrayed and let down by people he cares about from his deadbeat dad to the many murder and manipulation attempts of Peter, whom he has canonically never trusted despite Stiles’ insistence that he even trusts Peter (lol where? when? source?).....ergo, ipso facto, forsooth and all that good shit.....Stiles wanted Scott’s complete obedience and allegiance in S5 to everything he said and thought while at the exact same time giving no fucks about anything going on WITH Scott himself. Hashtag friendship goals, am I right guys?

f) the fatal flaw of the Sciles schism in S5 was not in fact the warring opinions on Scott and Stiles’ respective trust and distrust of Theo, but rather what S5 revealed about Scott and Stiles’ respect trust and distrust of EACH OTHER. In point of fact, the only thing truly revealed by the events of that season is that Scott doesn’t automatically trust just anyone, but that his trust must be EARNED - a process Theo invested considerable effort in doing, as he actually paid attention to Scott and the actuality of things he said and did and why - and that Stiles in contrast doesn’t just automatically distrust anyone, but rather makes snap judgments about whether or not to PUT his trust in others based on what he’s feeling.

Basically, my point is that Scott views trust as a function of information gathering and ultimately a decision to put it to the test or not, to actually just say okay based on what I know and feel at this point, I am making the choice NOW to trust in someone. Stiles in contrast, views trust as something he doesn’t fundamentally NEED in his interactions with people, and as such he uses it to shore up and buttress various other things about himself and his interactions with people.

This is why Scott started out the season WITH reservations about Theo, that led to him asking Deaton questions about how vulnerable he and his pack might be due to allowing a strange newcomer into their midst, but ultimately placing more and more trust in Theo as the season went on, BASED on Theo’s ongoing campaign to win Scott’s trust by seeming trustworthy and helpful and supportive.

Meanwhile, Stiles started out the season WITH reservations about Theo, that informed all his actions regarding Theo UNTIL he got concrete proof that Theo was a liar, BUT continued to interact with Theo and even work alongside him even KNOWING he wasn’t trustworthy, because trust was not after all the most important element informing his actions because it never HAD been. More importantly, the reason this all plays more into Scott and Stiles’ view of each other than anything to do with Theo, was because the ONLY reason Theo was able to play them against each other was Theo keyed into the fact that Stiles, despite placing a lot of importance in the IDEA of trust, never actually fully makes the leap into actually PLACING his trust in ANYONE, even someone like his best friend Scott, who has proven MULTIPLE times how invaluable Stiles is to him.....because if Stiles ever HAD fully placed his trust in Scott, he would have been able to look at the concrete precedent of Scott saying throughout the entire nogitsune ordeal that he flat out didn’t CARE if people died because of the nogitsune, because of Stiles himself, he wasn’t going to sacrifice Stiles to save the lives of strangers he just simply doesn’t value as being more important to him than Stiles himself.

And by extension, if Stiles HAD ever fully placed his trust in Scott after this, then his fears about Donovan would have fallen by the wayside as - just like it was ultimately proven out in 5B after Scott heard the WHOLE story and not the parts Theo told him backed up by the lies of ommission Stiles HADN’T told Scott and the fact that Scott had been keyed into Stiles’ feelings of guilt over something for weeks - Scott would then have expressed to Stiles just as he ultimately DID express to Stiles: that he can tell the difference between self-defense and cold-blooded murder, and Stiles killing Donovan in self-defense was not a problem for Scott and NEVER WAS OR WOULD HAVE BEEN.

In conclusion, the biggest issue in S5 is not that Scott trusts everyone, its that even after everything, Stiles still doesn’t even trust Scott.

And if you can’t trust the best friend who’s proven that he will literally do anything for you, at any time, just say the word, to such an extent that you’ll pull back from him and refrain from working with him and being around him AT THE EXACT SAME TIME as demonstrating that you will be around and work alongside someone you don’t even like and definitely do not trust.....

Then trust is not the be all and end all for you, and it never actually was, and if you can’t grant it to even your friend why does your friend owe you his, let alone UNCONDITIONAL trust in not just you, but every opinion and course of action you advocate for?

*bangs gavel* The defense rests. Or the prosecution rests. Fuck, I forgot which side I’m on. Am I accusing or defending? Idek.

Whatever. I rest.

35 notes · View notes