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elaineiswithyou-blog · 9 months

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Good, Good, Great

Ghost x Fem!Reader (And they were roommates)!

[nsfw] cw(s): Jealousy, alcohol consumption, references to smoking, strip club, rdr calls ghost ‘big boy’ several times, suggestive content, non-explicit sex (it’s mentioned), rdr is highkey a brat lol, mention of dumbification.

3.4k words I don’t understand how UK currency works so i guessed, ALSO! Reader is kind of a slut!! Because we don’t get enough readers that have BEEN AROUND TOWN (iykwim) and I am hellbent on fixing that :) ALSO ALSO this kinda sucks and it’s prolly OOC but I spent like four days on it so here u go <33

You’re not dating — but he’s not keen on sharing. He sees you serving another table drinks, scantily dressed, hips swaying with every step, and can’t help but watch with a glare as some other man sets a 20 between your tits.

How Laswell convinced both herself and Price that a strip club was the best place to meet and discuss information on a new mission was beyond Ghost. It wasn’t until two blocks away from the venue did he begin to recognize the surroundings, the streets, and damn it, even the people.

He forwent the skull mask and the skull-patterned balaclava for a plain black surgical mask that left him feeling bare and exposed. Only a thin piece of fabric was between him and his anonymity; two strings that held together the Ghost façade from falling into Simon.

He’d be damned if he told the others that he recognized the club — that he frequented it. Not for a certain stripper, no, not for the girls performing at all. He knew every staff member from the amount of times he’d come to pick you up after your serving shift.

You always smelled like alcohol and someone’s blueberry vape, sometimes weed; you claimed that just came with the job. He’d respond asking if he smelled like gunpowder and metal, if that was the case. He remembered how you shook your head.

“You smell like cigarettes and aftershave.”

He grimaces as they approach the shining lights of the club. Myth is a looming building; five floors, only two used for actual club affairs. The other three were offices or something equally as boring; even if you would prattle on about your outlandish suspicions of a mafia being run up there.

The first floor had the basics; a main stage that was across from the full bar, a plethora of sleek tables and uncomfortable leather chairs filling the space between the two attractions. On the far wall, a few booths with itchy velour couches separated by fake bushes. Doors sat on either side of the four booths, both led to some sort of VIP room that Ghost had never stepped foot in.

The second floor overlooked the stage section of the first, only the dancers could see the people decorating the steel railings. It was usually reserved for the rich people, the important men who had had wives and didn’t want to be seen in the public eye, the men who were desperate enough to pay extra to pretend they could get some, and the people staff liked. Ghost happens to fit into the latter category.

There was a second stage on the upper floor, it wasn’t often dancers were up there performing, they were usually lounging around with someone they knew would paid them well. The was a second, smaller bar which served the singular purpose of storing new bottles, which caused you to complain about having to go up and down the stairs every time you had to get another round for a table.

His constant presence had led to him “befriending” the bartenders (if getting a free drink counted as being friends) and getting half-hired as security (he was roughly the same size as the men they already had for the job), even the hostesses knew to assign him to your section each time he walked in.

It baffled him, to say the least. Even after he was gone for 11 months the one time, (what a god awful time that was), the Myth staff knew who he was.

Ghost didn’t even register Price trying to tell him to stop as he walked to the shiny glass doors of Myth. The thing that dragged him out of an absentminded state was Soap’s obnoxiously loud laughter, Ghost stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the rest of the task force.

“Yae walkin’ right in like ye own the place, eh, Lt?” He had a conniving grin on his face. “Didnae take you for that kinda guy.” Gaz looked like he was trying to picture Ghost in a club, Price only looked at him with mild amusement on his face.

Ghost glares at Soap, embarrassed. “I’m going where we were told to go.”

“Wasting no time, either.” Gaz manages to crack a smile from Price with his chide.

“Are we going in, or not?” Ghost’s eyebrows raise in questioning, his patience already running thin. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, who he wishes he didn’t recognize as Paul.

Gaz had already fished his ID out of his pockets, the graying white background of the Royal Air Force card reflecting the sign lights. Soap wasn’t far behind him, most people who see someone with a mohawk assume it’s a teenager who lost a bet. Anyone could look at the Captain and know he’s over the age of 18, no college student could rival the man’s facial hair.

And Ghost? All he had to do was look Paul in the eyes and he was let though without even a second glance. It was no different than if he were just coming in to pick you up, although it was considerably earlier than your usual 2 AM clock outs. Ghost forgot the club was even open at 5 PM.

He got an odd look from Soap at the lack of identification, but odd looks from Soap were a daily occurance.

The club looked the exact same as when he’d left 4 months ago, the same blue-purple lighting, same ugly silver bead curtains hanging over the walls, and the same Thursday night bartender. His name was something along the lines of Tony (Tim?); Ghost hadn’t particularly cared about him, he’s never at the club on Thursdays anyway. Your shifts are normally on the weekends, only the occasional Thursday if there was an event.

The hostess seems to be familiar, too. She’s either Camille or Angelica; he could never really remember who was who. The two have the same bleach blonde, blue eyes, and freckles; they’re practically the same person to Ghost. He really only pays attention to you when he’s at Myth.

The hostess stares at Ghost for a second, as if trying to recognize him. Before she could try to speak, Price cut in.

“We’re meeting someone here. Blonde hair, a little older.” His eyes scan the half-empty floor of the room. “She might be upstairs?”

The hostess perks up at the mention of a woman. “Right. Follow me, please.”

The blonde led the group of them upstairs, two of the 20 tables had people at them. Only one of them had a Laswell-looking woman at them. The other was a group of seven men; each in a suit, and each with a glass in their hand.

Once the hostess set a few menus on the table, she spoke a final time. “Your server will be right over.”

Ghost let the others sit down before him, eyes lingering on the group of men across from them before they slid over to Laswell. She looked as comfortable as any other person in a strip club by choice, lounging back in her chair with a cocktail in her hand.

“You look disgruntled,” she notes, eyes resting on Ghost.

“You had us meet in a strip club,” Ghost mutters. “This isn’t my usual scene.” It was quite the lie, really. He’s spent more time here than any other pub in the Manchester area at this point.

“It’s close to home.” She takes a sip of her drink, completely at peace. “And it’s unsuspecting. Who comes into a strip club to talk about top secret information?”

Ghost looks at her, unamused. “Us.”

Laswell ignores the distaste in his voice. “You don’t have to worry about that group,” her head tilts in the direction of the rowdy group of men. “They’re all drunk or too focused on the girls to even bother listening to us.”

The distant sound of heels against the floor catches his attention, his eyes fly towards the staircase. And there you are, flouncing up the stairs with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of Blue Label in the other.

You make your way to the group of men, a customer service smile plastered on your face. Ghost can’t hear your words, but he watches you set the bottle down in front of the most important-looking man, along with two of the glasses you were carrying.

He watches as your shoulders bounce when you laugh at something he says, though it looks like the fakest giggle you can muster.

He watches as the man takes a 20 pound note from his pocket and tucks it right between your tits. On instinct, Ghost’s hands tighten into fists and he glares. It’s a sharp glare, one he’d give to some idiot recruit that tried being cocky. You gasp, then smile brightly at the man, he can tell you’re saying thank you profusely from the way your mouth is moving.

You step away from the man and Ghost’s eyes fly from him to you, and his glare drops into a normal enough look, but his fists are still tight; his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

Ghost’s eyes roam your body, how the little black skirt you’re wearing rode up just enough that it would be considered a tease, how the black shirt you’re wearing is just a little too tight around your tits, and the 20 pound note that was stuck right between the two of them. He had to consciously unclench his fist before anyone would notice.

Then you come prancing over, hips swaying almost hypnotically as you walk, a glass of bourbon nestled in your hand.

You smile sweetly as you bend down in front of him, showing off both your tits and the note right between them, and set his glass on the table.

“I believe that’s for you, big boy.” Fuck, he missed hearing your voice, the nickname flies over his head through his stupor. Even if it was the faux, sultry version of it you used for work. “Can I get the rest of you anything? A beer? Whiskey?”

It was almost impossible for Ghost to tear his eyes away from you, rather, that damn note between your breasts. He wanted to pluck it out and throw it right back at the other man, replace it with something bigger, better.

When he notices Gaz’s disturbed stare, his eyes avert from you.

Gaz’s eyes trail from his to yours, “I’ll take a Manhattan.”

You smile at him, “of course, is Sazerzac okay?” Gaz nods shortly, glancing away from you to avoid Ghost’s stare. “Anyone else?” You pivot towards Price, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

Price angles his head to meet your gaze, squinting through the LEDs of the club. “Gin and tonic,” his eyes don’t leave yours, “Hendrick’s.” An offhand comment from Soap entertains the liquor’s Scottish origins.

You nod along with his words, then tilt your head towards Soap. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“I hope you mean the soda,” you muse. You didn’t get any reaction out of the group, not a single smile — how disappointing. “We have the cherry kind, if you’re into that.”

Soap shakes his head, a small frown on his face. “Just normal Coke’ll do.”

You hum absentmindedly, “alright.” Your eyes flicker to Ghost, the smile on your face contorts into a little mischievous one. “Are you going to be wanting the bottle, Simon?”

You really are a vixen, aren’t you? Through grit teeth, Ghost spits out, “no.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back with those drinks, boys.” A single wink, and you were off. Low heels clacking against the tile floor, hips swaying side to side. Ghost was all too aware of every detail of your retreating body, from the way your hair bounced with each step you took, how the skirt you wore rode up just slightly enough to make his grip on his bourbon tighten.

Ghost fights the urge to get up, grab you by the waist, and pull you onto him. Both his experiences and his logical reasoning say it’s a terrible idea, yet the idea of reminding you who you ultimately belong to is so enticing he could be drooling.

He’s seen you cockdumb; it almost always comes after you pull a stunt like this. Of course, he knows you do it just for the sake of getting him bothered and getting fucked stupid. But he also likes the idea that you do it just for him. You put on a little show.

He finally put it together years ago. Back when you would bring over some pathetic-looking hookup just to see his reaction. When you’d fake moan loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear, then look at him the next morning through your eyelashes all innocent.

At some point, the hookups ended, and you began flirting with customers right in front of him. Just like you had done a moment before.

When your head disappears from view, Soap is the first to attack him vocally, almost gawking after you. “You’re on a first name basis with the bottle girls at a strip club?” He looks incredulously at Ghost, almost jealous.

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to get inside? You knew this was where your flings worked?”

Soap leans in closer, “how often do you come here, LT?” It was question after question from the Scotsman, and despite his inclination towards him, Ghost was getting slowly more fed up.

Ghost set his glass down, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He put his hands to his knees and stood up from the plush seat, eyes scanning the other group one more time before he left his teammates at the table.

It doesn’t take long for him to find you, leaning up against the doorframe to the server’s closet while you wait for another cocktail server to put in a ticket, twiddling your coworker’s Elfbar in your hands until she reaches behind her for the vape.

You hand it off to her and turn to face Ghost, a catty smile adorning your lips. “How can I help you, sir?” Ghost stops a few inches before you and a hand darts towards your cleavage. He tugs the 20 pound note from between your tits, your hands following his to grab for it.

You give Ghost several noises of grievances as he holds the note away from you, a look of slight disgust evident in the ways his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

By the time you gave up trying to reach the banknote, he’d begun digging in his back pocket. “I’d like my tip back, asshole.”

Ghost says nothing in return, no noise or gesture to acknowledge he had heard you. Instead, he tugs a 20 and a 50 pound note from his pocket and tuck the two bills into the space between your breasts. The money from the other man was crumpled and shoved back into his pocket.

You don’t stop him, you’re a bit too turned on to even think of stepping away from him.

“There,” he mutters. “your tip.” He steps back from you, like he was going to leave and go back to his table. You, however, were having none of that.

“Hold on.” Your hand twitches, stopping before it could shoot out to grab his wrist (but you’re smarter than that, you know him). “You didn’t call or anything.”

Ghost frowns under the mask. “I’m not home.” It was a clipped reply, not one you wanted.

“What?” You match his frown, annoyed.

“I’m here for work. You saw the others,” his hand gestures vaguely to the upstairs, “they’re my coworkers.”

You raise an eyebrow, “you work with someone who has a mohawk?” Disappointment flickers in Ghost’s eyes, if it was from your question or just the thought of Soap’s haircut, you didn’t know. The poor man isn't even there to defend himself.

“Is it that hard to believe?” Ghost knows that, yes, it is hard to believe that he worked with a Scotsman with a terrible haircut while continuing to be the infamous Lieutenant ‘Ghost.’

The look on your face screams ‘yes.’

Ghost relents, “listen.” His voice has a certain sadness in it that makes you calm down a bit. Truthfully, you’re pretty damn pissed at him for just showing up out of the blue from God-knows-where, but your expression softens after a few seconds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Riley.” Your coworker nudges your shoulder to let you know it was your turn to use the kiosk. “Go back to your friends,” you wave your hand in a dismissive fashion. “I’m working.”

Ghost doesn’t budge, even after you’ve ducked between the bead curtains that dangle at the top half of the doorway. You pop back out of the doorway, an unsurprised look on your face.

“Don’t flirt with him.”

Your eyebrows fly up, an incredulous tone flooding your voice. “What?”

“Don’t flirt with him,” Ghost repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

You set a hand on your hip, annoyed. “I’m making money.” The look in his eyes doesn’t change, he’s utterly serious about some random man you’re flirting with for extra cash. A thought crosses your mind, and your annoyance melts into mischief.

“You’re jealous over him?” The way his eyes widen a bit is enough to tell you that, yeah, he is. “Really, big boy?”

And fuck, if you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger by the way you walked, you had him now. All it took was one stupid nickname and Ghost is crumbling into Simon.

“Not jealous,” is his defense. You just soak it in with a grin on your face. You step towards him a little, shoulders forward and leaning down ever so slightly so that your cleavage is a little more obvious, so that the money he stuck between your tits is poking right out at him.

“You sure?” You look up at him, still grinning like your coworker once had when she got a free vape from a customer. “Seems like you’re a bit jealous.”

All he can do is stare down at you, clenching his jaw shut lest he say something he really shouldn’t. But God, does he wish he could.

Really, if it weren’t only 5 PM, he would’ve let you get to him. Let you drag him into an empty VIP room and fuck your words right out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. But Ghost — Simon — knows better than to incapacitate you when you’re working.

All he’s left to do is watch as you give him little smirks from across the room, as you adjust your clothes to be just a bit more revealing, as you get close enough that he can smell the remnants of your perfume when you ask him aimless questions. And that’s just what he’ll do once you prance off to get his teammates drinks.

You pat him on his covered cheek patronizingly before you slink away, outstretching your hands for the three drinks cluttered at one side behind the bar. You pass him by, drinks in hand.

“If anything,” you look up to his eyes as you pass him, “it’s the guys you’re with you should be jealous of. You know I like older guys.” That’s enough for Simon to be reclaimed by Ghost.

He follows after you, glowering at your back. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s scowling at you, but it brings you a slight bit of satisfaction.

“C’mon, big boy,” you hum, “I’ll get you another drink if you tell me his name.” You look back at him once you reach the staircase and climb a few steps ahead of him.

Ghost stares into your eyes like a dead man, you almost think you’ve gone a bit too far. “No.”

You give him an exaggerated pout and turn back to the front to see where you’re going. “If you aren’t jealous, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“No,” he huffs, irritation growing steadily. “Ask again and I’ll have your head.”

You quicken your pace on the last few steps, skirt bouncing from the motion; Ghost doesn’t bother to look away. He follows you back to the table where Laswell and the others are chatting quietly.

You lean down to set the drinks on the table, and Ghost takes his chance. His hands hover around your hips, bulge brushing against your ass as he moves behind you to sit down in his seat.

“Sorry,” he muses in the most unapologetic tone you’ve ever heard from him. It’s Simon’s eyes that look into yours, like a challenge. A really, really horny challenge. “Had to get past you.”

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elaineiswithyou-blog · 1 year

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The Wolves and the Doe

Viking KiriBaku x FemReader

Hey yall! I'm still on my haitus but I TOTALLY forgot to post this on here. I posted it on AO3 but not here. It has been sitting in my drafts for who knows how long. Sorry about that. Either who. Here you go. I love this peice.

Since you were a little girl you had loved the son of a Jarl and the son of a great warrior, but life took you away from them. When they come back to you, it's almost as you first met. A chase. A hunt. The wolves and the doe.

Note: Mentions of Norse gods, periods and the demons that they are, mentions of blood, Predator vs prey mentality, mentions of Kiribaku obviously. Some NSFW close to the end. No smut. Sadly.

Growing up as the king’s youngest daughter you were always pampered and spoiled. You were daddy’s little girl. His favourite girl. Yet that also meant you could get away with a lot of things. Tripping in the procession? That’s fine. The poor little one tripped on a stone. Interrupting your father to tell him that you think some random lady looks pretty? Look at you being a kind little princess. Sneaking off to go play with a Jarl's son and his friend?

That was new.

You never liked playing with the other girls of the court. They were all so stuffy and if not pampering you and trying to suck up to you. As much as you didn’t mind the attention, it wasn’t what you wanted nor what tickled your fancy.

It was one time, when you were not older than six, you had wandered away from your family that sat posed in the great hall. You had magically found your way outside where a group of friends were playing around. They were wrestling and fighting one another. Out of the group your eyes couldn’t leave two of them. You hid behind a wooden pole to watch them.

The tallest of the boys was a blond. He had spiky blond hair that made him look a bit like a porcupine to you. He had red maroon eyes and a boisterous laugh and smile. He seemed to be confident and hold an aura of control and pride to him. Another kid that seemed to be rather close to him, slightly smaller, was a boy with black hair that came into is face. He had wide ruby eyes, like a jewel or crisp apple. He had a scar over his right eye and seemed to be the strongest out of all of them.

They played around with two other boys and a girl. One boy had black hair and the other had yellow hair with a black mark in it. He must have been a relative to a seer. You heard of them with their mystical powers and connection to the gods. The only girl had fluffy pink hair and seemed just as rowdy as the boys.

You watched all of them enviously.

“Come on, Eijiro. You can hit him harder than that!” The ash blond shouted at the kid with the black hair and scar.

The boy put his hands together and looked down. “Sorry Katsuki, but I don’t want to hurt Denki.”

“Yah, Kacchan!” The yellow haired small boy shouted, standing behind the other boy with black hair and had a straight tooth smile. “I don't want to get hit. Look at me, I’m tiny.” He hid more of his body as he glared.

He’s false bravado made you giggle, causing attention to yourself.

“Oi!” The ash blond child, Kacchan you guessed, stomped over to you. “Who are you! Why are you spying on us!” He shouted at you.

You weren’t used to people shouting at you other than your older siblings. You didn’t tolerate it from others. Not liking it at all, you frowned. “I am princess Y/N! My daddy is the king and I can do whatever I want.”

Bakugou glared at you. He didn’t like how high you placed yourself. How higher you placed yourself above him. He pointed a finger at you. “You little brat!” Before he could do something he regretted, Kirishima quickly wrapped his arms around him.

He held the angry blond in his arms as he offered you a smile. It was odd watching them, being the same age, and yet Kirishima was restraining him pretty well. “Sorry about him, your highness.” He said, offering you a kind smile. Broad, sharp teeth and kind. You couldn’t help but soften at the look of him.

“Well…” You looked away. “It’s fine for now. But the next time he does it, I’m telling daddy.”

“You’re a princess?” Mina asked as she approached you bouncing on her heels in excitement. “That’s so cool. You look like the King so it must be true.” She said as she looked between you and her friends.

“Yah, she should call her precious daddy!” Bakugou mocked as he tilted his head side to side. “You wouldn’t be able to handle me by yourself, princess. You’re weak.”

“No, I’m not!” You stomped your foot and glared back at him.

Sero quickly moved to stand next to Bakugou. “Uh, Katsuki.” he said with a nervous smile. “Maybe you should calm down.” He offered.

Bakugou kept his eyes on you. “Never!” He stuck his tongue out at you childishly. “Weak little brat!” He teased you. “Can’t do anything without daddy’s help. Poor little princes-”

A slap went through the area. You stood with an angry face as you looked down at him. Clutching his plush cheek was Bakugou. His face was set into one of pure surprise. He didn’t expect you to hit him, let alone the slap to sting. The other children were silent, not fully believing that it actually happened.

“Keep quiet you… you… you dog!” You shouted at him angry.

Denki retreated back as he grew nervous at how quiet Bakugou was being. “Oh no. I don’t think you should have done that, princess.”

Bakugou’s fists balled up as he faced you again. His eyes white with rage as he seethed in anger. “You’re gonna regret that princess.”

That’s when you did the smartest thing you did all day.

You ran.

You ran, not in fear but giggling for the most part. The angry blond throwing retorts and angry growls at you as you ran through the streets. People watched and wondered why you were running away from a string of other children all following one another. Bakugou was behind you trying to catch you. Kirishima was behind Bakugou trying to calm him down. Mina was behind Kirishima wanting to see what would happen next. Sero was following Mina for the same reason. Denki followed because he didn’t want to be left alone for the most part.

You ran straight into the main hall, giggling and squealing trying to get away from Bakugou. Kirishima and Bakugou both followed you into the main hall but Mina, Sero and Denki all stopped. In the main hall was where all the leaders were meeting. Your giggling, Bakugou’s shouting and Kirishima’s apologise were what disturbed the meeting.

You quickly ran over to your father and hid by his side. “Daddy save me!”

“Come here and fight me, princess!” Bakugou shouted in front of all the adults. Including his mother and his Jarl, Kirishima’s father, Takeo Kirishima. The two adults stood horrified as their two sons stood in front of the royal family.

Kirishima quickly stood in front of his best friend and stopped him from approaching you any further. He forced the blond down on his knees alongside him. They were both on one knee in front of you and your family. “I’m deeply sorry for the disturbance your majesty. We were just playing outside when things got out of hand.” He apologised profusely. He knew how much his father took pride in these meetings so he knew what was best was to apologise.

“SHE SLAPPED ME!” Bakugou shouted looking back up at you with a glare. Kirishima tugged on his friend’s ear harshly. “OW!”

“Forgive us.” Kirishima stated his head still down in respect.

All the adults were very amused at the whole situation. Especially your parents. Your mother laughed but looked down at the two young boys fondly. “What are your names?”

“Eijiro Kirishima, your majesty.” Kirishima answered immediately. “Son of the great Jarl Takeo Kirishima. And this-” He kept Bakugou’s head down with a firm grip that was clearly not relanting despite the blond's struggles. “Is Katsuki Bakugou, son of Mitsuki Bakugou.” He answered for his grumbling friend.

Your father turned to look up at the two embarrassed parents. Mitsuki was seething at her son for interrupting the meeting and showing little respect to royalty. Takeo, however, was rather impressed with his son’s level-headedness in this situation. Your father turned to look at you, who had crawled into his lap. You sat with your arms folded and a huff. “Daughter.”

You turned to your father innocently. “Yes, daddy?” You asked.

“Did you slap Katsuki?” He asked you.

You hesitated. You pouted. “He was being mean to me, daddy.” You pointed down at the two boys.

The king turned to Bakugou who had calmed down a bit more. “Katsuki.”

“Huh?” Bakugou asked as he looked up. He was roughly nudged in the ribs by Kirishima making him wince. “I mean… Yes, m’lord.” He corrected himself with a mumble. That made the other Jarls laugh. Mitsuki dragged her hands down her face as she tried not to burn with anger at her child’s show of no manners.

“Were you bested by my daughter?”

Bakugou huffed. “No, she ran away and I-”

“If a doe runs away from the wolves does that not mean that the doe has won?” Your father asked as he raised an eyebrow down at the blond child.

Bakugou opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out. He crossed his arms and looked away. “Tsk.” He scowled. “One day I’ll be a strong warrior and no stupid doe will out best me!” He loudly proclaimed. “Especially you princess!”

Your mother laughed at the child's ambition. “I don’t doubt that, if you are anything like your mother.” She turned to Kirishima. “Little Eijiro. What do you think of the blond's proclamation? You are to be a future Jarl if all goes right.”

Kirishima was only silent for a moment. “He’s the best boy in my village, your majesty.” He said making Bakugou’s cheeks burn a slight pink but he still frowned. He nodded his head in agreement. “He’s fast, skilled and has great ambition. I don’t doubt what he says. I want him to be my second in command, like my father has Aunt Mitsuki as his.”

Your mother nodded her head as she looked up to Takeo. “Your son has a great eye, Takeo. If Thor will have it, he just might make a strong leader one day, especially if he can deal with a Bakugou.”

After the meeting had finished, with no more disturbances, both Jarl Takeo and Mitsuki both apologised to your family. No one minded. Bakugou, however, was now determined to try and beat you at something, dragging Kirishima along with him. There were many visits from the Bakugous and Kirishimas since that day. Whenever they were in your village with their parents you always spent time with them. Whether it was watching them fight, or running through the surrounding woods with them in a game of tag. Where you were, they were. The three of you, even though you only saw each other every few months or so, you were all close. Everyone could see it. Some even wondered at your young age, who you would choose. The Jarl’s son or the fierce warrior?

You could never choose. Never split them apart. They were great together as is.

Then one day, when you were twelve, you woke up and there was blood everywhere. Everywhere means your sheets. You had screamed loud enough for Valhalla to hear you. You thought you were dying. You felt like it too. Your servants had run into the room you shared with your older sister. But next thing you know, no one was listening to the girl who was practically crying her eyes out. Everyone was celebrating. For what reason you hadn’t known till your mother and sister sat you down.

You weren’t a girl anymore to them.

You had to take your princess studies more seriously now.

Your sister took pity on you, having had experienced what you were going to be put through a two years before. Suddenly she seemed less annoying and more like your only refuge.

So while the village celebrated and you were sulking around, you met Kirishima and Bakugou one last time.

You met them in the woods, your secret place by a river. The two of them stood in front of you who looked like you were anything but happy. Of course you couldn’t be. Not with all you had learnt today. The moon was high in the sky and the river was still. The dark area was peaceful other than the growing tension between the three of you.

“We can’t hang out anymore.” You let out finally and quietly.

Bakugou was the first to react like always. “HUH!” He shouted rather loudly. “Why not?” He asked as he stepped closer.

Kirishima stopped him and shot him a look to calm down. The blond took a breath and focused back on you. Kirishima had his black hair tied back in a small ponytail, sort of spikey at the end that reminded you of Bakugou’s hair. The boy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is it because of today?” He asked.

The both of them weren’t entirely sure why today was a big deal. Nor why everyone was acting like it was a god’s birthday but it seemed important enough and that it had to do with you. Takeo had promised to explain to his son and his son’s best friend later when they went back home. It didn’t stop them from enjoying the festivities though. They did enjoy it until they noticed you weren’t.

You nodded your head as you held your elbows. You shrunk your shoulders as you furrowed your eyebrows. You looked off to the side. The cool night air blew making your long dress move with you. “I… I’m not a little girl anymore. I can’t play with you guys. I need to take being a princess and a woman of this village seriously.” You recited what your mother’s handmaiden had told you. “Besides, you guys will have to train to become leaders and warriors. You won’t have time for me for the next few years.”

The boys winced as they knew you were telling the truth. They would have to go to the trials and earn their place among men. Earn their place as warriors and protectors. They wouldn't be able to see you for the next few years. They would be plundering, training, earning their arm rings. They would have to be away from you.

They didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. The three of you all knew that the day would come where childish games and fun times would come to an end.

Bakugou folded his arms over his bear chest. “How can we get your attention then?” He asked. That caught both you and Kirishima's attention. “If you can’t give us it then how can we get it?” He asked again.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. My mom said I would have to focus on my future partner.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He proclaimed. He had already made up his mind. The blond placed his hands on his hips and nodded. “WE’RE GONNA MARRY YOU!” He pointed to you.

“W-what!” You asked confused. “Both of you?” You asked shocked. “My father won’t allow it.”

“Yes, he will.” Bakugou said shamelessly and certain. Kirishima however was blushing red and went stiff. Bakugou threw his arm around Kirishima next to him. “I will become the best warrior this kingdom has ever seen and Eijiro will become the next Jarl of our village! Right, Eijiro?”

Kirishima nodded his head, not entirely sure what exactly he was putting himself up for but he did know, if it concerned you and Bakugou, he would do anything. “Y-yes. As a Jarl, I’ll make sure we’ll marry you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You clearly weren’t convinced. Bakugou turned to Kirishima. “Oi, Eijiro. What’s that thing that people do before they get married?”

Kiri looked at Bakugou confused. “Kiss?”

Bakugou’s face scrunched up as he stuck his tongue out. “Gross. No.” He pushed the other boy. That made Kirishima blush bashfully and you giggled. “The other thing.”

“Propose?” Kirishima suggested again.

“Yah but we did that.” Bakugou stated.

“We did?” Kirishima asked, confused.

Bakugou opened his mouth to speak but then realised Kirishima was right. He dropped down to one knee. His face went pink but he looked determined. His red eyes looking between the two of you. “I promise to Odin and any other fuckin’ gods I need to, that I’ll marry the both of you.” He nodded his head. He pointed to his chest. “And I’ll be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have.”

You and Kirishima shared a look. Before you could comment, Kirishima did the same thing. He went on one knee before the two of you. “I promise to Odin and Freya that I’ll marry the both of you and be the most manliest and reliable husband to… to the both of you.” He stared at the blond briefly, making Bakugou turn his head trying to hide his red face. Kirishima looked back up at you. “I promise.”

Watching them do it, you couldn’t just stand and not say anything. You pulled your dress to the side and went down on one knee. Your knee pressed against the cold damp soil. “I promise to Odin and Freya that I’ll marry the both of you and be the best wife you could ever need. Don’t think about trying to find another woman because she won’t be better than me.” You stated proudly.

And that was the last time you saw them for years. You grew, you changed physically and mentally but what stayed the same was where your heart belonged to. You were older, wiser and for one thing less spoilt. You did everything to be the best person you could be. You helped around the community, you supported your warriors and even learned a bit from them.

Your eldest brother had passed leaving your eldest sister as the next heir to the throne. That in itself scared you. Not because you didn’t support your sister. You did, but that also meant that she couldn’t be carted off. That she wasn’t to be used as a bargaining chip anymore. You were the next royal in line. You were terrified obviously. You didn’t want to marry some fat old man of a neighbouring village or kingdom. If anything you would have rather died single.

Your life was like that. Waking up each morning to fear.

But for one day, that disappeared. Your father was holding a great feast for a series of successful raids that had been occurring. The guests of honours were said to be ones you hadn’t seen in years.

You hadn’t been that excited or nervous for something in months. You dressed in your best outfit, applied face paint to your eyes, face and shoulders and made sure you looked more presantable than you were in months.

“You know you might just attract every other person other than them right?” Your sister teased from her place upon her bed.

You pulled on a fur around your shoulders. “Lets pray that doesn't happen.” You stated unbothered.

Your sister raised an eyebrow. She stood up. “I heard they were lovers.” She stated.

You stiffened for a moment. You heard stories about them. The beast of a redhead that tore through enemies like they were paper. The blond demon warrior that slaughtered and took with a smile on his face. An unstoppable duo whose affections towards each other, though not shunned nor hated on, were very apparent. You were glad they still were close and if the rumours were true, loved each other. If they couldn’t have you at least they had each other.

Your sister walked up behind you and placed her hands on your shoulders. “Sister, let them go. You can’t keep on holding on to silly childhood promises.” She told you as she bent down to look at you through the mirror. You looked down at your lap. “I am sure I can find you a lovely young jarl you could spend your time with. Plus what if you don’t find them attractive anymore?”

You looked up at her. “Well, I would need to get my eyes checked.” You stood up with her.

The two of you went into the main hall. You both stood next to your father and mother and younger brother. You watched as Jarl after Jarl and warrior after warrior came into the great hall but you hadn’t seen them yet. You kept your head high. Even if you were mistaken, even if they weren’t coming, you wouldn’t be disheartened. It only meant you would probably take your sister up on what she had offered.

Lastly, from the darkness outside were two men, built like oaxen. You were stunned for the most part. The sea of people in the great hall parted for them, feeling the power and radiancy they carried with them. It was suffocating from even where you stood.

Finally making it in front, standing next to each other were the two men you had longed to see for years.

On the left was an ash blond with a white direwolf fur over his shoulders with a red cape. His hair was longer now. Half his head was braided in tight blonde braids and the rest was kept in his unruly blond locks. He was lean with a small waist that had even you envious. His large chest seemed soft to you and held few scars to them but clearly hard earned. His maroon piercing eyes, covered in black tribal paint looked at you instantly. They held no shame in looking at you or your figure, a smirk of pride and cockiness went to his face at your attention.

Your eyes then went to the giant next to him that you could hardly believe was the same boy you knew years ago. He had a growth spurt making him wider and bigger than the blond. He truly lived up to the reputation that the Kirishima’s held of being beasts among men. His broad and exposed chest was covered in markings and a few scars. He had long locks of red hair that fell down his back. You had heard rumours that his hair turns red permanently from the blood of his victims. His crisp apple eyes found you as well. An unreadable emotion behind his eyes.

The two of them bent down on one knee before your family, their heads down. The tight arm rings around their right arms showing their vows to their fellow man here. “Your majesties.” They both said.

Your father smiled with a laugh. “The demon warrior, Katsuki Bakugou and the Beast among men, Jarl Eijiro Kirishima. Stand men, stand. This whole night is in honour of you after all.” The duo stood back up straight, heads held high. “Your winnings and efforts have paid off my good and faithful warriors. Tonight we shall feast in your honour!”

With that the hall erupted into joyous cheers. Music played and food was served as everyone sat drinking and eating to their hearts content. Loud boisterous laughter and cheers rang through the warm air as there was celebration to their achievements. You sat dutifully next to your sister as she got lucky enough to sit next to Bakugou. Your father sat between the two men.

“Maybe you weren’t so wrong about dressing up.” Your sister whispered into your ear, making you both giggle.

You nudged her. “You never did like to listen to me.” You teased. Before you could continue you heard your father say something.

“I would like to reward the both of you with an opportunity as well with your riches… If you so wish...” He stated to the two of them. You peered over trying to hear what else he would say when your sister cut in.

“Whoever gets their hands on them would be a lucky person.” She stated as she picked up her cup of beer.

You nodded. “Yes, they would. If only the heavens would be so kind.” You motioned to her.

“Mother said that father might just reward one of them with the opportunity as King.”

You choked on your wine. “What?”

She nodded her head. “For my hand, they would be crowned King.” Your ears started to ring at her words.

“For… your… your hand?” You asked shakily.

She smiled. “Yep. Of course you could have the other one if you so wished.”

You absentmindedly nodded your head not entirely feeling all up to the party. Your first chance in years to see them, talk to them, be with them and it was taken from you. You stood up. “Excuse me, I’ve got to go out and check on our brother. He must be so bored.” You smiled and quickly made your way away from the main table. Red eyes watched you as you left.

You quickly made your way out of the hall into the cool night air. You dropped your shoulders and went into the direction of the woods. Your head down as you tried regaining your barings. She must have known your fathers plans all along. Which was probably why she told you to forget about them. You couldn’t have both. That’s selfish.

Or was it?

You didn’t mind being selfish.

You found yourself at the river, your meeting spot when you were kids. The night seemed identical to it was the last time you saw them. Bright big moon in the sky with the heavens twinkling and winking at you. The river was calm near you and the wind was only just strong enough to move the cape you wore.

This was a place where you could feel safe. Almost as if they were standing right next to you.

You heard a snap of a twig that made you immediately look back. Your heart raced in fear as you looked behind you. Your eyes dashed around the area looking for what the sound was. You moved backward in fear. Your back bumped into what you thought was a tree.

“No hello, princess ?” You turned around immediately and your eyes widened in shock. You knew who it was from the way he said your title. Standing in front of you, arms crossed over his chest was Bakugou. The moonlight lit his blond hair in a sort of luminescent glow as he stared down at you with red eyes that seemed to stare into your soul.

“ Katsuki .” You whispered his name like it was something you never thought you would say again.

You took a step backwards and your back hit something again. “Years away from you and you haven’t even given us some of your attention. Do you not know how much we missed you, princess?” You turned around and you saw him. Kirishima. His tall stance is almost menacing in the dark, even with the moonlight falling on him. Eyes dark like a predator in the night as he looked down at you.

You gulped. “ Eijiro .” You whispered.

This was nothing like it was when you were younger. For one thing, this wasn’t the same Kirishima you knew when you were younger. He used to be so timid, keeping himself closed within himself most of the time. He was doubtful. This man in front of you seemed to radiate confidence and strength. A real Jarl.

“That’s not true, Eij.” Bakugou stated. “You should have seen the way she was staring at my chest. Perverted little princess.” Bakugou snarked with a grin on his face.

Kirishima laughed. “I don’t blame her Katsuki, but you’re right. She was staring at my arms like they were meat on a silver platter.” He too snarked.

The two of them started circling you. For a moment you wondered what was going on. Why were they saying such things? Why were they circling you? Why did your legs feel weak and your abdomen felt tied in knots?

Then it hit you.

They were playing a game with you. A game they loved to play after the first day they met you. Wolves and doe. Wolves circle their target, their prey- the doe- and the doe has to get away from them. You were always a doe. They were always wolves. Back when you were younger it seemed easier since you were always a bit taller than them and could get away faster and probably climb a tree away from them. Now? Now you felt more like your fate was already sealed to the butchers than you having a chance.

But the thrill. The thrill you yearned with them overtook your judgement. The hunter and the prey.

The wolves and the doe.

They saw the recognition in your eyes and their grins grew. You bit your bottom lip as you looked between the two of them. Kirishima’s eyes raked over your body with desire. Hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Look at her, Katsuki. Doesn’t she look just delicious?'' He asked as he licked over the edges of his sharp teeth, his clear want for you making your heart beat out of your chest.

Bakugou chuckled. “Indeed. Looks like a pretty doe for the fuckin taking.” Once he was behind you, his fingers dragged across the nape of your neck making you shiver. “I wonder how she tastes.” He growled close to your ear.

That’s when you ran. You pushed your legs as hard as you could away from them, away from the village and deeper into the woods. You heard their loud and amused laughter from behind you, but you couldn’t hear them following you. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you almost felt it hard to breathe.

You kept running, swerving between trees trying to put as much distance between them and you as possible. A glimmer of hope flickered within you. Maybe you could win.

Then you heard it. Loud laughter. “Was she always this fucking slow, Eijiro?” To your left, running just a few trees away from you was Bakugou. He’s lean body moving agily between the trees and over fallen logs. He was keeping up with you as if it was child’s play.

“Nah!” To your right was Kirishima. Even with his huge size, he seemed to navigate the trees better than you ever could and you lived in the area. “I don’t think she’s even trying to get away.”

Suddenly just like that, they were gone. You couldn’t see them in the darkness of the woods or the light of the moon. You slowed down and looked around wondering where they had both disappeared to. Your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Katsuki? Eijiro?” You let out scared.

Two arms wrapped around you. You let out a small scream as you were being held by the waist. You heard Bakugou’s rare laughter. Loud and obstreperous laughter. “ Katsuki! Eijiro! Where did you go? ” He mocked you, making you laugh. He held you up making you giggle and laugh louder. His big strong arms always made you feel safe despite the game you all just participated in.

Suddenly you were both pushed back by a huge force. You landed on Katsuki’s chest, with your back against him. Caging the both of you between the ground and his large frame was Kirishima with a grin on his face. The three of you all laughed at the situation, you between the two men. It reminded you of the good days when you used to let them win and you would end up in a similar position with all three of you on the floor laughing.

You calmed down as you looked up at the redhead. You admired his handsome features. A satisfied smirk on his face at getting to you. He leaned closer down to you. “Got you, doe.” He said condescendingly. Your heart was beating loudly with how close he was to you.

“Yah… you got me.” You affirmed, your eyes strayed to his lips. Bakugou pushed you forward, making you kiss the redhead.

Kirishima placed his knee between you and the blond’s spread legs, applying pressure to you both. Both you and Bakugou groaned. You leaned deeper into the kiss as he easily won for dominance. His kiss had a burst of passion and need for you. It was as if he was sucking the energy out of you, leaving you breathless.

The moment his lips left yours, and air could return to your lungs, Bakugou had tilted your head back towards him and had taken your lips for himself. He kissed you deeply too. His touch was explosive and filled to the brim with desire. His grasp on your hips tightened as he held you. You hummed as you arched your back slightly, pressing harder against him, making him grunt.

Your eyes were closed even after separating from him. “Gods, I missed the both of you.” You whispered.

“And we missed you.” Kirishima placed his hand on your cheek.

“I… I had thought the two of you had…” You couldn’t let it out. Your own insecurities suffocating you.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. “What? You thought we would just live on without you?” He asked. “Yah fuck no.” He shook his head. “Your ours, doe. We promised you, didn’t we?”

“I know. I know.” You looked away from the both of them. “My father wants one of you to marry my sister, doesn’t he?” You asked.

Kirishima let out a heavy breath. With that he got off the two of you, and pulled Bakugou up, automatically sitting you in his lap in the process. “He does.” He answered your question, making you shrink back more.

Bakugou had his hands down on the ground to steady himself as you leaned against him. “I wouldn’t blame you guys.” You stated. “One of you would be king and the other a Jarl. It would be the dream for you guys. I would support the two of you, even with my sister as your Queen.”

Bakugou scoffed. “We couldn’t give two shits about her.” Bakugou growled in anger as he looked off to the side. “But… we do care about you.” He told you, his voice softer than normal. With one of his hands he took yours securely. His calloused warm hands gave you comfort.

Kirishima placed a large hand on your cheek. He offered you a soft smile. The smile that would comfort you in your dreams. “We would deny Valhalla to be with you.” He told you honestly. You closed your eyes as emotions bursted into your heart at the declaration. “I would rather let Thor strike me down with his hammer, lightning in tow, than to love another that isn’t you and Katsuki.”

You smiled and placed your smaller hand over Kirishima's. You nodded your head. That reminded you of something. You chuckled and a small smirk went to your lips. You turned back to look up at Bakugou. “I heard you two were lovers? Is it true?”

Bakugou chuckled. His hold on your hand tightened slightly. He bent down closer to your ear. “It’s whatever you make of it.” He told you with a smirk of his own. That made a desire to know exactly what he was meaning burst from you. “What I do have to say though, is that you have never seen a cock like the one between his legs that’s for sure.” Bakugou shot you a wink as your cheeks warmed instantly at his vulgar words. Kirishima shot him a glare which Bakugou chose to ignore. “You should see him when he is straight off the battlefield, princess. When he’s covered in blood, veins bulging and looking like a fucking god. I’m tellin’ you, nothing sexier.”

“Can you shut up, Katsuki?” Kirishima asked annoyed.

Bakugou stuck his tongue out childishly making you laugh. “Make m-”

He was quickly shut up with a kiss from Kirishima. It was forceful but held the same passion and love as always. Kirishima’s hand snaked up to your thigh and gripped it roughly making you release a held in breath. Something about what the blond was saying, made you know he wasn’t lying about anything. Kirishima playfully bit on the blond’s lower lip. The blond held a smirk of his own at Kirishima’s actions. Kirishima moved back and shook his head with a deep chuckle. “You are such a brat.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You sound like my mother.”

“Well, your mother isn’t wrong, Katsuki.” You told him, making Kirishima laugh. Bakugou playfully growled at you next to your ear. He bit lightly on the top of your ear making you laugh. “We should head back before people get even more suspicious than they no doubt are already.” You let out with a sigh.

“Or we can just kidnap you.” Before you could respond, you were suddenly off the ground. You squealed as you were thrown over Kirishima’s shoulders. “Make you our chieftess and live the rest of our lives with you by our side and warming our bed. Right Katsuki?” Kirishima held you by your thighs as he stood up onto his feet not bothered by your weight at all. He turned to look at the blond who had gotten up beside him.

Bakugou placed his hands behind his head. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, Red.”

“You guys can’t just kidnap me.” You defended yourself. “What about-” You let out a gasp as a slap went to your ass. You arched your back in surprise at the stinging feeling.

“Oi! Stop spewing shit and just say yes. You already said you would be the best wife ever, so do that.” Bakugou reprimanded you.

Your face felt hot. You looked away. “But-”

Kirishima now slapped your thigh making you tense again, pushing them closer together. “Don’t worry princess.”

“Just focus on Eijiro’s ass and life will be a much better place.” Bakugou bent back to look at you. That’s when you noticed at the perfect view you got of said ass.

Holding you with one arm, Kirishima slapped Bakugou on the behind making him yelp. “The two of you are going to be the death of me.”

“What an honourable way to die.” You and Bakugou stated together.

-Glitch1d

Hey yall!! Love this? Well I have many other one shots on my AO3 that I havent posted here. Go check them out on my OneShot book!!

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