#like they really stand aside half of the time like 'FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT'

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 7 - ( c.s )

part six

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, smut (oral m!receiving)

a/n: part 7 bay beeeee let’s get it, they’re falling yall 😳

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @55sturn @l9vesick @mattinside @sturnioloco @rootbeerworshiper @stonermattsgf @dazednmatthews @chrisactualwife @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18

the following week and a half are a complete haze. between classes and schoolwork and hanging out with chris, it’s been a whirlwind of both pleasure and stress, but you’re not complaining about it.

it’s the most fun you’ve had with a guy in a minute, the most fun you’ve had with anyone in a minute period.

you catch yourself smiling at your phone in class when he texts you silly things throughout the day, or when he gives you a quick call to tell you something crazy. he’s always insisting that you spend the night at his, just so he can wake up with his chin nuzzled into neck and his arm wrapped around your waist.

after practices he’ll pick you up to go get food, or bring something back for you if he stops on the way home instead. you’ve also been to a few of his games since making up, which depending on the result will usually end in some type of fun new sexual escapade.

he never forgets to kiss you hello and goodbye, is constantly giving you his clothes to wear because they “look better” on you, and he even throws his arm around your shoulder in public without shame.

he’s doing the little things, and you have to admit that you really like it.

ramona and cass have caught on at this point, always shooting you sly grins when you say you’re heading out, or that you have plans. you never even mentioned chris by name in the beginning, but they knew.

and despite prior flukes, they both support you whole-heartedly and are always gushing about how different he’s acting. you try not to read into their theories too much, but sometimes you can’t help but wonder.

why would he be putting in effort on all of these extra gestures if he didn’t truly want something more?

he’s already got the sex, so what else does he need?

but one thing you still haven’t fully learned about chris is that he’s selfish. he needs and wants everything, in almost all aspects of his life aside from his romantic interests. that is, until he met you.

and now that he has you, finally, he wants it all. whenever you’re not with him, he’s thinking about you. sometimes it’s the dirtiest fantasies that he’s just waiting to fulfill, and other times it’s wondering what you had for lunch, or what you dreamed about, or what you’re up to with your friends.

when you are with him, he can’t get enough; your smell, the way your hair feels against his palm, the softness of your lips all over him. he adores when he makes you laugh, when you toss one leg around him before the two of you go to sleep, when you’re standing in the crowd supporting him in his jersey.

he even likes when you scrunch your nose in disgust at him after he hits you with yet another cheesy pickup line.

chris has no idea how to handle the intensity of his feelings, or how to identify them. unbeknownst to him, you’re feeling the exact same.

but everything is still normal as you two lounge on his bed, both enjoying the wind down after a long day. the sun is well below the horizon now and you’ve been watching hockey for the past two hours—shocker. but you can feel chris growing restless beside you, hand stroking your thigh lazily.

“alright, what’s your deal?” you ask after he huffs for the fifth time, even though you know he’s just bored.

he pauses to think about it for a moment, rolling his lips between his teeth. then his eyes go wide and a grin takes over his face as you watch an idea form in his mind.

“wanna play super smash brothers?” chris asks, and you feel your own expression light up at the suggestion.

“oh my god, seriously? i didn’t even know that game was still around.” you gush in excitement.

“lucky for you, i’ve got it on my switch.” he wiggles his eyebrows a few times before he leans over to grab the device off of his nightstand.

you stay silent while he props the screen up on top of the covers, sitting up straighter like he’s preparing for war as he hands you a controller.

though the console is a completely foreign thing to you, you used to be decent when you played on the wii several years ago. you have a feeling the skill will translate.

“are you sure you’re ready? i’m a known pro.” he warns you with a smirk as the game loads.

you shrug, deciding not to boast about your own ability just yet. better to leave it a mystery, just in case you do actually suck.

“your threats are unimpressive.”

“i’d hold the sass, princess. we haven’t even started yet. plus,” he drags the word out for effect as he stares at you with a devious look in his eye, “i have a dare for you.”

a snort escapes before you can help it. “so we’re back in middle school now?”

“c’mon, humor me.”

“alright, let me hear it.” you give in, because you are wondering what he has in store.

“every time i beat you, you have to take off a piece of clothing. and every time i lose, if i ever actually lose, i’ll do the same.” chris explains.

it’s an enticing offer. you pretend to contemplate the challenge, tapping on your chin lightly with your pointer finger as you furrow your brows.

“okay, i’ll take the bait.” you finally say.

you don’t plan on being defeated anyways. he’s underestimating you yet again, and you can also tell that he’s surprised by your answer.

but regardless, he gives you a nod of approval. “very daring, i’m impressed.”

“you'll be even more impressed when i kick your ass.” you tease with a smile, leaning in to give him a quick kiss before you refocus on the task at hand.

“sure i will, now pick your character already.” he prompts, pointing a finger at the screen.

you already know who you’re going to play as, because you used to choose the same fighter pretty much every time. so you use your controls to scroll and select quickly.

“so you’re a kirby girl.” chris notes with a grin, like it makes perfect sense.

“force of habit, i guess.” you respond as you glance down at the switch.

he just shakes his head, clicking on the default stage so that he can get the game ready to go. “that big pink fuck won’t save you now.”

“hey! don’t you dare talk about him like that, he can hear you.” you motion to the screen in offense.

this makes him chuckle, a delightful sound that you’ve come to know and love.

“yeah, yeah, whatever. are you ready?”

you square your shoulders. “prepare to die, chris sturniolo.”

the game begins a moment later, and neither of you are relaxed in his bed anymore. you’re both quite literally on the edge of your seats, fingers frantically jamming at the controllers.

you’re the first to hit him, watching his XP fade just a little bit as a result. he grunts beside you while he continues throwing aimless attacks your way, eyes narrowed in determination.

he’s next to land a big one, which knocks kirby on his ass for a solid few seconds as chris pummels your character. you’re at nearly half of your health before you escape his grasp, so you grit your teeth and keep battling.

but it’s no use. even though you knock him off of the little island, he delivers the final blow a moment later and pikachu wins the first round.

“shit!” you yell as you watch your own fighter die.

chris throws his arms up in victory, already beaming over the fact that you’ll have to be the first to start stripping. you stare at the screen incredulously before you hang your head in shame.

“i think you owe me something, baby.” he chirps happily.

your mind races, trying to find some loophole to save your dignity. then the sides of your mouth turn up just a bit. you reach down to peel your socks off and toss them to the floor, fully smirking now.

chris shakes a finger at you accusingly, though he’s smiling regardless. “that does not count, you little cheater.”

“it totally does. socks are essential to daily life.” you argue.

he licks his lips as he grips his controller once more. “fine, but you don’t have an excuse after this, and puppy eyes won’t get you out of it.”

“sure they won’t.” you reply innocently, giving him a knowing look.

the next round starts up and this time you come out swinging, sending quite a few damaging hits his way. you’re satisfied with the head start, avoiding him by jumping around on the obstacles in the arena.

every time he’s about to strike, you feel him tense up beside you, so you decide to use it to your advantage. you back up as he advances, once again steering clear of any harm.

then you switch up and go on offense again, sending pikachu up into the air with the last strike of the match.

chris groans in disappointment as you let out a brief cheer, nudging him with your shoulder suggestively.

“i think you owe me something, pretty boy.” you mock him, unable to hide how pleased you are.

he just rolls his eyes in response, reaching to grab the collar of his shirt so he can pull it over his head. you honestly weren’t fully prepared yet, and your mouth goes dry as you watch his muscles clench while he shifts to chuck it to the ground.

you can see some of the hickies you gave him scattered across his collarbones, and although you’re a little embarrassed, it’s also a bit of a turn on.

“distracted?” chris taunts.

you narrow your eyes and turn back to the switch. “never.”

the third round commences and you’re feeling far more confident now. he may have a big ego, but he’s not as good as he made himself out to be, so you’ve at least got a chance.

it’s dead even for a moment while you each go punch for punch, bringing your health down quite a bit. you’re completely zoned in until you feel his hand grip your thigh, inching higher and higher rather quickly.

it makes your stomach flip, and you’re forced to look over at him in surprise. in that moment, you know you lost, because chris removes his fingers just as quickly as they were there and goes for the final kill.

he meets your eyes after he’s secured the second win, pure amusement evident in his expression.

“who’s the cheater now, huh?” you shove him lightly, but he just laughs.

“hey, you never said touching was off limits. i was just using my resources.” chris says, clearly deciding to maintain his innocence.

“that’s total horseshit and you know it. you’re lucky i’m a good sport.”

so you tug your own sweatshirt up, throwing it toward the foot of the bed without a second thought. you’re left in your lacey red bra, though it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before anyways.

but when you glance over, there’s a hungry glint in chris’s eyes that lets you know he's just as excited as the first time. his gaze flicks down to your chest, tilting his head forward a bit so his face is closer to yours.

“jesus, that bra is fucking sexy.” his words sound more like a whine than anything else.

you can feel yourself beginning to shake ever so slightly in anticipation, trying to steady your hands by holding your controller.

“don’t say shit like that to me.” oh, but it sounds so delicious.

“i’m sorry.” chris lies breathlessly.

his lips ghost over your cheek, his teeth clamping down on that sweet spot behind your ear a moment later. you let out a small gasp, placing your hands on his warm chest to push him away.

“we’re supposed to be playing.” you remind him quietly.

everything in your body is screaming for him to pin you to the bed, to let him have his way with you, but you won’t let yourself get carried away that easily. not this time.

“damnit, i’m not going to be able to win with you looking like that right beside me.” chris complains.

“sounds like a you problem.” you brush him off and click the button to start the next round.

you can feel your hands sweating as you move kirby around the stage. you know exactly what you’re doing now, walking right into his attacks as if you’re practically begging to die.

the attention chris gave you after you lost last time was intense, and you can only imagine how it’ll go once you take off your pants too.

so, you let yourself lose. pikachu defeats kirby swiftly, and now it’s time to face the consequences.

“you suck at this.” he grins widely after your third loss, clearly content.

but you don’t say anything. you just lay back, lifting your hips up so you can wiggle your sweats down your legs. you kick them off at the foot of the mattress, enjoying the way chris’s eyes go wide as he watches you.

“you’re evil, you know?” his voice is dangerously low as you sit back up, confidence flooding through your veins.

you nod, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling like a cheshire cat. “what are you gonna do about it?”

he opens his mouth like he’s going to tell you, and then changes his mind.

“nothing.”

not the answer you were expecting. you furrow your brows, completely thrown for a loop, when you get your own brilliant idea. an idea he won’t be able to resist, literally and figuratively.

“fine, then i have a game for you.” you say, trying to provoke him.

“i’m listening.” he sounds intrigued.

“let’s see how long you can go without touching me, because i bet you won’t last more than a minute. but i can do whatever i want.” your voice gets sultry at the end as you glance down at his mouth.

chris feels all of the blood rush to his dick just thinking about the dare, already turned on from seeing you in your tiny matching set. he knows he won’t be able to contain himself, but he doesn’t care.

“filthy girl.” he purrs, nodding his head yes.

you watch him situate himself against the pillows, laying so you can roll to your knees and straddle him. his eyes roam your body, lips tilted into a lopsided smile as he relishes the feeling of your silky skin on his.

your hands go to his bare shoulders, steadying yourself as you lean down to give him a brief kiss. you move to his jaw before he can get to into it, taking your time as you finally reach his neck. he spreads his hands out on the comforter, gripping it harshly to prevent himself from giving in.

your hips rock against him agonizingly slow, and you can feel his hard on as you grind your cunt into it. fingers trail down his stomach, raking at the skin lightly.

he’s choking on his breath underneath you, trying so hard not to buck into your movements even though he wants to so bad. you’re careful, leaving open-mouth kisses in new areas in the hopes of giving him more hickies.

chris’s eyes flutter closed, lips parted in bliss as a small whine escapes, and you can tell he’s just itching to truly feel you.

you move your face up so you’re right by his ear, whispering your next words without hesitation.

“come on baby, touch me. i know you want to.”

it’s your first time using the pet name with him, and you can tell by the groan he lets out that it’s enough to send him over the edge.

his hands reach to grip your ass, rocking you against him harder as he gives one side a little slap. chris tilts his head so he can capture your mouth with his for a real kiss, tongue and teeth meshing together beautifully.

when you pull away his lips are glossy and red, which you always love seeing. you shift yourself off of him so your hands can move toward his sweats, fingers dipping below the waistband just slightly as you look up at him for permission.

chris nods eagerly, biting down on his lip and squirming around for any kind of contact. you steady his hips with your hands, clicking your tongue once in distaste.

“you better be patient, or i won’t do a damn thing.” you chide.

“i’ll be good. so good.” he promises, practically pleading with you now.

the neediness ignites a fire in your stomach, so you slowly begin to work his pants and boxers down his legs. his erection bounces free, slapping against his stomach, and you feel your mouth watering just looking at it.

once you’ve officially discarded his clothes, you position yourself between his legs so that you’re eye-level with his cock. he’s already throbbing at the sight, waiting as you spit in your palm and wrap it around the base of his shaft.

chris lets out a moan as you start to move your hand up and down ever so slowly, making sure to tease as much as possible because you know how sensitive he is right now. your run your thumb over his slit, which is leaking with precum, and he trembles in your grasp.

after a moment like this, you finally bring your head down, wrapping your lips around him and swirling your tongue across his tip.

“fuckkk.” he hisses through his teeth, reaching to wrap a hand in your hair messily.

you take as much of him into your mouth as you can, using your hand on the part you can’t reach as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head slightly. your other palm rests on his thigh, steadying yourself as you suck his dick.

“feels amazing.” he praises through a whimper, involuntarily bucking into your throat now.

you can feel him pulling you by the hair, forcing you to take more of him as tears brim your eyes. you know he’s getting close just based on the way he’s beginning to shake, so you pick up your pace a bit.

“shit, baby, just like that.” chris groans, his body shuddering as you work your tongue.

he’s breathing heavy now, head thrown back with his eyes screwed shut, hair messy across his forehead. his grip on you tightens, a dead giveaway that he’s about to come.

“fuck, fuck, i’m—”

you feel him twitch in your mouth, body completely tense as his orgasm spills down your throat. his hand untangles from your hair so you can pull away to swallow, brushing stray strands from your face.

his chest rises and falls heavily as he lays there, riding out the high before he peels his eyes open to look at you through the bleariness.

“you’re incredible.” chris says as he reaches for your hand, pulling you down into bed beside him.

he presses a kiss to your forehead, a gentle touch that you’re not used to, and you feel your stupid little heart melt.

“and you’re getting soft on me, mister tough guy.” you joke, poking his side like you're making a point.

“for you, i think i can live with that.”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #hockey!au #neighbor au #christopher sturniolo smut

[thesamoanqueen]

Blackwater XIX

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: well I said a couple of months ago that something was toxic… there’s a lil bit of non-con this time, so if someone of you is not ready, im sorry, is that chap.

A/N: this chapter wasn't very easy to write, but the next ones won't be either, let's wish each other good luck.

She had hoped to go somewhere else, but with problems piling up day after day doing so wasn't even an option. It was safer to stay south, where their reservation still acted as a natural stop to any external influence coming from across the border, plus Roman was in the area, though again not there with her, having yet another meeting with yet another person for yet another deal.

She hadn't been very happy about it at first, but had to admit at least to herself that maybe it was for the best. In town she had finally found something she could bring to Lisa to thank her and plus they were relatively close home, which meant they would be there before night and she could go to bed to recover a bit.

The stress caused by the situation did not help either her mood or body already affected by hormonal swings of a heat that Y/N prayed to postpone as long as possible. She wasn't sleeping well due to too many thoughts, she was losing her appetite, as well as the desire to go running and that afternoon she had another one of her waves of shivers which was trying to fight with some hot chocolate in an attempt to also replenish a sugars. She had bought Solo a coffee too, but he kept holding it in his hand without drinking, too busy glaring at anyone who dared come closer than necessary, that was not even so close.

- You didn't grow up here, did you? – she asked, interrupting silence between them once again, because they spent a lot of time together, but even if he seemed willing to talk with her, their conversations were never long.

He looked at her a bit confused, putting aside his perpetual serious face for a moment, coffee still in his hand.

- Jimmy said you came here after, like me – she explained, letting out an encouraging smile and he shook his head no.

- I grew up in the area, with my family.

Y/N let out a surprised oh, going back to twirling the straw in silence as they walked towards the suv.

From the stories she had thought he had come from out of state to help Roman, but she probably misunderstood. She hadn't spent much time with Solo's family, she had only seen them once actually and he didn't open up more than necessary, most of the time talking about what there was to do during the day, well she talked, he was more comfortable listening.

- Not with them. They were always together somewhere. – he added unexpectedly, perhaps not to make her uncomfortable with another silence or perhaps not to make her feel so out of place and Y/N smiled gratefully.

Y/N saw him nod slightly, as if satisfying her had satisfied him too.

She had never really thought about it, but there was an age gap between him and those three. Now he was a big boy with muscles and a menacing look, in those years he had probably just been a kid that them didn't want around. She couldn't imagine what it was like, Y/N hadn't had any brother or sister, she had grown up alone, but the half year spent with all of them before the chaos was enough for her to understand. Maybe he couldn't have tolerated them as a kid, always together already as pack leaving him at home and doing their own business, but now he was a man, it was different.

His family is broken.

- I'm sorry, Solo...

Standing next to the black suv, he looked at her, again confused by her reaction.

- We have to do what needs to be done.

- They're your brothers no matter what.

- I swore to the Tribal Chief. They did it too. – he said serious, his tone almost angry.

In packs like theirs, still tied to old laws and traditions, it was normal to have a relationship of deep respect with those at the top. Those were legacies that were now intertwined with a changed society but still subject to natural balances, such as the amendment on property rights between mates and social hierarchies for those who belonged to or were born from groups not commonly seen well. Y/N, with her omega smell, knew a lot about it and had had to deal with it there too in the first few months, but the prospect of an acknowledgment, oath, was new and something she hadn't heard.

She saw Solo open the door to let her in, his face less angry, but still solemn.

- You don't have to – he reassured her, mistaking her silence for concern, dark round eyes stopping too long lower, at the base between her neck and shoulder, where Y/N had tightened her jacket trying to send away the cold shivers – you already have his… smell.

Smell wasn't the word he wanted to say, but what Solo was referring to, she didn't have yet.

Our mark. His mark.

That too was an old legacy, dangerous in her case, but Y/N didn't have time to think too much about it by looking for her phone which in the meantime had notified of a message.

***

Paul was a smart man. Roman had chosen him as a wise man for that very reason. There was no one in the entire country more capable than him, no one who had his level of experience. He was a lawyer, an advisor, a connoisseur, he had political support, important acquaintances within the packs and outside, plus his family had practically adopted him when he was a boy, so he was not a stranger. The wise man was many things, but honest only when necessary and Roman had never had a problem with that kind of approach in their time together. He tolerated all sorts of expedient for his purpose, he had learned the hard way how much it cost to have feelings, but everything changed if those tricks helped something of which he was not made aware.

Because Roman knew from years and life lessons. Loyalty and trust were something he no longer expected, from anyone and certainly not from someone who had stayed afloat when everyone else drowned. Everyone could be a friend, everyone could be an enemy, his wolf now did no exception and all the whispers, phone calls and messages that kept Paul busy even when they were together were nothing but further proof of a picture that he knew. The wiseman acted driven by the feeling of ground crumbling beneath their feet, frightened by changes that his cousin and those dogs on the border threatened, by the possibility of a future that Roman would not allow as long as he was able to breathe. He loved the wise man, he could forgive him being a coward, pretending not to see, at least until he took a step too far.

- So? – he asked annoyed, almost making the phone fly out of his hand.

- Two weeks. Tomorrow both of you will exchange the sogi – he reported in a heavy voice, his shoulders low, his face frowning as if someone had just stepped on him after the news.

He didn't like the prospect of that fight, first of all because he was risking his head. Roman knew even without having to ask that he would play his cards to make things better and save everything, but for him the two weeks he had dealt were too much time and those plans useless. Fourteen days were the ritual time to provide what was necessary for families, so that both parties were ready for any outcome, but for him were just a useless wait. He wouldn't be the one to lose, he had no alternatives to plan unlike Jey, he just needed to have free way and get his hands on his cousin.

- About the stipulations, I was thinking- he advanced, trying to recover as much as possible.

- There are none.

- My Tribal Chief, if I may, considering what we are facing now, it would be better to leave a few more resources and perhaps-

- There will be no stipulations.

He had complied with stipulations, conditions for weeks, suffered weakness for months, the time for mercy was over. He had left many doors open for his cousins, he had tried everything and Jey however had gone where he shouldn't, disrespecting him to the point of contesting him with the Elders, they had gone too far and now there was only one way to put an end to it. The only acceptable stipulation was unconditional surrender, total humiliation, there was nothing else to talk about. Guts were needed to keep their family in line, his dad had reminded him of this and Roman was not willing to receive other reminders in the future, he was no longer a boy. Whatever happened next, he would handle it the way he handled everything, with a firm grip and without regard, he didn't need those two to do it. He was the alpha, he had control and winning cards to play against everyone.

- How much longer do we have to stay here? – he asked, tired of waiting, staring with annoyance at the watch on his wrist.

They had been in that office longer than he was willing to tolerate and he couldn't stand listening to the wise man calls or him typing messages anymore, he didn't have all day to waste signing a deal with the governor. He had to train, dedicate the next fourteen days focusing on the goal, not sitting bored in a chair waiting for a paper that should have already been ready the second he set foot in that building.

- I'm going to immediately check where Pearce has ended up, my… – the wise man snapped to attention, but he barely managed to turn to go towards the door – tribal… chief.

Roman smelled him before even moving his gaze to the man accompanying Pearce. He had no idea who he was, he didn't remember his face if they had ever met before, but he had a smell that he didn't like. He didn't like the smell of him, he didn't like the way was staring at him, he didn't like the attitude and he sure as hell didn't like that he came around when he had business to do.

We don't like him.

- Reigns.

Pearce greeted, already adjusting glasses on his nose, his expression stressed as always. Roman didn't even look at him, focused on observing the new arrival who was already taking place at the table without having been invited. Pearce had that same attitude in the past, a couple of years ago, until Roman had taken it away from him in his own way and since then had never reappeared. He almost wanted to do the same with that new guy.

- What’s this idea Mr. Pearce?! It was supposed to be a private meeting for private business! Very important business! It's unacceptable! – complained the wise man, standing up against that lack of respect.

- Our new neighbors have informed the governor of activities across the border. It seemed right to him to invite Mr. Aldis as a delegate to clarify before signing anything. He’s in charge of that area now.

That's what he was. Another puppet, another well-dressed small dude convinced to have power or a chance against him, thought he was worth something, that he could stand face to face with Roman, thanks to the talks of those idiots to whom his cousins had left the field free. They were becoming arrogant, stupidly brave, throwing in his face that he had lost his hold in the north and that now there were others there. They hadn't gone too far yet, keeping everything legal, moving with what they could to make their voices heard, their new influence known, but Roman was fine with those games as long as they didn't go beyond the limit. And the limit was his patience running out.

- Since you no longer have jurisdiction there and the upcoming Bloodline activities threaten the entire area, restrictions must be established for the future. Real restrictions Mr. Reigns that I will take care of enforcing and making clear to you. Without it, nothing new will be authorized. – the new dude, Aldis, announced, openly defying his influence, head held high and the wise man behind him jumped.

They wanted to authorize him.

- How dare you- he screamed, but Roman simply raised a finger to silence him, the other hand gripping the chair.

That tanned, smug face of him would have looked perfect smashed onto his table or on the floor, better under his foot.

They wanted to play the big game, gamble when he already had more important business to take care of. It was almost hilarious, almost because that little game would be short-lived. He would let them do it, for a while, until Jey got what he deserved since everything that was happening was his fault. That was what happened if they left their side exposed, if they allowed a pack of strays to smell weakness, it was the price to pay for a crack and the reason Roman would have no more second thoughts.

Elders were right, he had to focus, do what he had to do and what he had been chosen for. He couldn't afford any more weaknesses or they would become ready and able to bite his throat.

- Go ahead – he conceded, collecting himself.

He would get rid of them one by one, blood of his blood or not. Without mercy.

***

She had sought comfort between now cold sheets smelling of him, curling up her legs for extra warmth, keeping her eyes tighter to ward off thoughts ready to fill her mind, but hadn't made it and her she-wolf had found Roman through the link. She had sensed him immediately, probably because he wasn't shielding anything believing that she was still asleep and Y/N had snuck out to join him in the dim light of his home office.

Mate is not here with us.

He was sitting on the couch with a solitary lamp, his face serious, fingers running through the seeds of his necklace. He was physically there, but his head was somewhere else as happened too often now. In the house he always kept the ulafala in the case, but Y/N didn't need to ask to know why he was there staring at it when he was supposed to be resting by her side, in their bed. Paul had told her as soon as he received the news, keeping to their agreement or perhaps already seeking help and Y/N had finally given a deadline to the anxiety that was weighing on her.

Fourteen days of peace before chaos, before completely crumbling what was left of the family, but in a few hours it would truly become inevitable. Or it was probably already late judging by Roman's face.

- Will you have to wear it? – she asked in a whisper, entering the room almost on tiptoe.

He hadn't told her anything about how the meeting would take place nor had he added anything about the fight, but she couldn't blame him. She had promised to stand by him, to defend him, yet she hadn't reacted well to his drastic change of plans and he didn't seem to really understand why she hadn't accepted it. What had happened was serious, but what could happened next would be even worse. Standing, she watched him keep his gaze fixed on the symbol of sacrifices, of his role and pains without turning to look at her and she too observed it, perhaps expecting a revelation.

Red for power, seeds for the rebirth of the dynasty.

She knew the value and pride behind that object, Roman had told Y/N all the stories about the ulafala, but no matter how hard she tried in her eyes it was only a necklace left weighing him down. It should have given him strength, conveyed his strength, represented the family future and instead he found himself fighting to keep it around his neck, to keep what he had gained after an argument born from unpleasant circumstances and degenerated due to old grudges.

- I earned it, represents me – she heard him reply, because in his mind it was the only thought.

She felt it, she knew it. He felt his efforts, sacrifices threatened and they were, but Y/N still felt like it wasn't Jey or Jimmy who was the real danger. At least not initially, now everything was a danger, even the elders who were supposed to accompany and advise him. Them all had fallen into a trap were building with their own hands and she couldn't resign herself to the sight of that disaster.

He's not just that for us.

- You don't need it – she reminded him, stopping looking at the ulafala to focus on him.

She saw him inspire with frustration, felt annoyance pass through him at the mere idea of continuing that conversation, his eyes far from hers.

- Go back to bed Y/N.

- Come with me then, is not mornin yet – she insisted, refusing to give up.

They had different opinions, different approaches, it had always been like that and perhaps it would never change, but they were on the same side. She didn't want to go back to their room if he wasn't there, didn't want to sleep if he wasn't there, she had been alone for too long to throw away moments, to wait two weeks to pass and then hope to go back to what they had before. She trusted Roman, she had never trusted anyone like him, but it wasn't going to end up with Jey and Y/N was honestly afraid of the aftermath he talked about. The threats were different, without blood ties and were just waiting the right moment to attack him, they wanted to get him out of the way and take everything, not just his role. No one can get rid of a weed without pulling out its roots. It had already happened with her family and now can happen again because he was focused just on what was in front of him. But she couldn't wait for the inevitable, it wasn't in her nature to do what she had to do or what he wanted, she existed to do what he couldn't.

She saw him stay silent, sign he had no intention of moving. So she stood in front of him, slipping the ulafala from his fingers without asking. That move finally forced him to raise his head, trying to understand what was happening, while she carefully placed it back in the case where he kept it and then went back to the couch. She listened him breathe heavily, scratch his dark beard with a grimace, and she sat down on his lap to take up the entire view.

- Ain't doing this talk once more – he stopped her soon, shaking his head.

- Not even if im the one asking? – she tried, seeing him immediately clench his jaw.

- Im doing it for you, for us, all! I told you and you said we were on the same side, now what?!

- I'm not taking anything back. I'm just worried it’s already too much – she confessed, not really knowing how else to explain the feeling in her.

Maybe she was giving in to the hormones, anxiety, or maybe was the fact she hadn't cared about others in years like she did now for him, but it was all happening so fast and whether Roman was ready to admit it or not, he was losing control and not facing things with a right mindset. Those outbursts of anger, the way he turned against everyone, judgments, drastic solutions, he was getting carried away by the desire for revenge and his justice. He kept saying he was doing it for them, for their future and instead seemed like a pretext to rush towards other problems. They didn't need acknowlegment, a border to build anything, they were fine, everything worked when it was just them, together. They had never been happier than in the time spent getting to know each other, digging their bond out of the dust and strengthening it. Life certainly couldn't be made up only of moments like those, dates and runs in the woods, but things could certainly have been different.

- Whatever it takes, doesn't matter, at all – he announced, almost exasperated by having to explain, by having to hear, his gaze so confident and Y/N stared at him for a moment without being able to say anything else.

Whatever it takes, he said.

The prospect of those sacrifices and ease which he said he wanted to face them would torment was heavy, but as she had sadly learned to do growing up, she hid all the worry in the back of her mind.

He didn't listen or maybe he didn't want to.

So Y/N simply moved closer, challenging his growing temper, to seek some warmth and his lips in an uncertain kiss. Saw him look at her almost suspiciously for her reaction, studying before reciprocate the kiss and sliding his hands down her thighs. Close, felt their breaths slowly mix in the silence of the dark house and that warmth she had found too late, growing from the most vulnerable part to her chest begging for comfort.

- You matter to me – she reminded him in a heated murmur, forehead resting on him, swollen lips touching, eyes burning for something that went beyond words.

She didn't really care about anything else. They could have been anywhere, surrounded by anyone or in utter desolation and Y/N would still have searched for those eyes. They were her firm point, he was her person. The thought of it terrified her, but she was done fighting and pretending. Roman was everything for her, she had nothing else anymore and she wanted, hoped... he would understand that for that exact reason they couldn't give in. They had to stay together, as a pack, mates.

She saw his gaze lingering on her lips, rising then to meet her eyes, two brown pools now dark in the dim light of the room. Felt his fingers gripping her hips, digging into soft flesh with possession, domineering and lust, marking her skin to claim and force her where she already was.

- Then you gonna be there with me, as you should – he demanded, resolute and despite fighting with everything her head suggested, Y/N nodded to please him again, letting Roman finally crash his mouth against her, satisfied.

They would find a way, they would find a solution even if it seemed difficult, they could do it together, but in that moment Y/N just needed to feel him close, just for her, far from all the noise and problems that awaited them out. They could give themselves that moment of rest, cherish it and Y/N rocked on him, moaning into his hot mouth as their bodies inexorably warmed up. His tongue was insatiable, ready to devour and intoxicate her with his good taste, thrown into a fight that she didn't even dare win. She preferred to let him have control in those moments, while her fingers made their way through dark soft locks, scratching the back of his strong neck to once again elicit that raw growl that vibrated through his broad chest into her bones. Felt his hands slide deeper, grasping her ass, encouraging Y/N to move her hips, pushing on his boner which was quickly answering to juices already wetting his pants.

She had stopped wearing panties when they went to bed a while ago and now was even grateful. She would bear nothing but the feeling of his hard body against her, pressure building like a blessed torture as he guided her growling for her to ride him shamelessly. Y/N had been trying to slow down and control herself for months now, so as not to give in to the heat of their bond, stay with feet on the ground and mind clear now that everything was falling apart, but it was an inexorable descent faster every time Roman touched her. She clung to him, feeling one of his hands travel up under her shirt to roughly grab one of her breasts, his calloused palm rubbing her sensitive nipple making her squirm. Her body had always been hyper-reactive to his attentions, but now she had fallen into a spiral with no exit. Y/N yearned him like a castaway for salvation and in moments like that the need mixed with something more, something that Y/N had never felt for anyone else and her she-wolf fought to make her whisper.

Tell him. We need him. Our mate. Tell him.

- My pussy wet as fuck hm? You need me, don't you? – he said voice like velvet, breaking their kiss and motioning for her to raise herself just enough to sink easily into her cunt – Ima fill you up good, babygirl… don't worry. Aint going nowhere and you'll be stuck with me.

The heat caused by his intrusion had already forced Y/N to open her mouth without being able to speak back, but the sudden thrust of his hips quickly accelerating to pound her almost made her cry. Hands tightened on his shoulders, eyes narrowing with each thrust and then opening as the wave of heat rose from her belly, sending her entire body into flames. Bouncing on his lap, she felt Roman moving his hand from her breast to give her a sharp slap on her ass, he did it one more time drawing a moan and then move up to her throat, to squeeze it just enough to bring tears to her eyes. Quickening the pace, in the frenzy of their moment, Y/N began to confuse the her own pounding heart with the slick sound of bodies slamming together. Her mind becomes more clouded by the second, ears filled with Roman's growls and threatening promises like dark spells ready to tear her soul and climax away. Confused between pleasure and desperation, she held him to her as he held her by the throat, twitches of her wet center uncontrolled amidst the panting of both of them that grew angrier. Room around flashed, throbbing like folds around his cock, impregnated with smell of their bodies, air charged and heavy, saturated with sweat and lust, with a mix of their smells.

They were racing with no intention of slowing down, as if the only goal was to consume, melt and crumble thanks to the other one. Y/N end came sudden and violent between a sloppy kiss and a particularly insistent push on that soft point on which Roman loved to rage without any mercy, fast, powerful, in a strangled moan that made her bare feet tingle, rising in an electric discharge up her legs to a sweaty body, chest begging and hot face. She closed her eyes, grabbing Roman's arm for her life, throwing her head back and then immediately hiding her face on his shoulder because he wasn't slowing down, he wasn't even giving her a moment to breath and she had already went over her limit. Heat kept growing and shake her, causing Y/N to lose all contact with her surroundings, ears ringing as if she had been underwater, body still crying out for more while Roman pounded furiously. Stunned, she stood abandoned in his arms, letting him have his way as he wanted, until something made her eyes widen, pushing her to gasp.

- R-Ro- she tried, because his hand had somehow left her throat, to grab Y/N by the back of her neck and tilt her head to the side.

He was holding her by her curls, beard scratching her hot neck, tongue ready to lick away sweat from her sweet pulsing weak spot to prepare it.

- Easy, stay still – his breath against her skin, so close, pushed Y/N to stiffen as much as his words – I'll be gentle, ssh…

Roman had never pushed, he had never held her like he was doing at that moment and feeling his teeth on her flesh sharper than usual, Y/N wriggled away.

- Don't - she tried again, feeling him tighten his grip, slowing down his thrusts, another hand moving to her wrist.

Why he was acting like that?

- Don't panic, its me – he reassured her, words heavy, attitude raising for her reaction and she planted her feet, her only free hand tapping on his bare chest.

It was him, Roman? Was it really him that one? Suddenly Y/N wasn't so sure and ignoring her wolf pleas, confused between the sense of discomfort and desire to give in, she pushed again to put some space between them.

- Y/N

- No, not like this! – she wailed and when finally managed to slide away from his legs, Y/N saw him jump up with a growl.

The crash of the coffee table froze her on the couch, eyes wide as she watched him pant in anger with clenched fists, body stiff. Still dirty for their moment, but with her mind completely clear now, she watched him stand there trying to regain control in a heavy silence she hadn't felt between them in a while. Roman rubbed his face, rolling his large shoulders, rocking his head and even though she was shaken, something in Y/N's chest tightened following the imperceptible direction of his gaze across the room, where she had put the ulafala away.

Did he want to mark her to prove a point? To have full control in order to not go through what had happened with his family? It was that?

Mate…

She moved her eyes to his hand, the one would have grabbed to calm him, to bring him back to there with her, the one she always found on herself for any reason even the stupidest, the one Y/N had learned to want, but a second too long passed and her hesitation was enough for Roman to quickly settle down, deciding to walk out of the room without a word to leave her again.

***

Uncle Afa was a man bent by age and illness now. When him and his dad stopped traveling around the country, he opened a gym in a recreation center on the eastern outskirts of the city where family had settled. He only trained their people at that time, city folks didn't want to set foot among savages, but his uncle ignored comments like his dad, dedicating himself heart and soul to the pack. Roman remembered going into that place the last time when he was sixteen, probably with the twins, to put on muscles that had grown bigger on their own later and fill his stomach always asking for more. The gym was different now from then, it was larger, it had incorporated buildings next door and it wasn't dusty at all. There was a sign, clean walls full of photos and articles, in the central one there was also him, right at the top.

They had organized the meeting there to have a neutral place, a place that represented everyone, a symbol of the pack values as the Elders demanded. Yet sitting at the head of the table in the gym hall, with the attention of many of his blood just beyond the threshold, Roman kept undaunted watching that perfectly framed photo at the top of the wall. He was there to talk, ready to prove his worth even if it was thanks to him that that picture had a wall to still be on, if that gym existed after his uncle's family had spent almost everything to pay the national healthcare system, if the next generations would have a place to go or eat like he did. He acknowledged his family efforts, but all of them would have been still in that dusty past of mediocrity if Roman had not taken everything into his own hands knowing he was more than what the world saw.

- Don't try, don’t think about it, I wouldn't do it if I was in your place - he heard Jimmy warn, blocking the wise man from trying to come forward to break the silence of their meeting that had already started a few minutes ago without a word.

Roman heard him clear his throat anyway, but payed no attention until Jey, the only one sitting besides him and Y/N, decided to cut it short.

- I don't have any piece of paper with me – he announced, rubbing his hands on his legs.

Roman eyed him silently, slowly tilting his head and Jey shifted in his seat, face so serious as he settled himself better to speak.

He could broaden his shoulders and give himself as much tone as he wanted, but he would never be on his level, he would never be like him and it was evident. That meeting was ridiculous, disrespectful even.

- It's just between us for me. Families have nothing to do with it – he explained, quickly nodding to whoever was outside the door – Same for Solo, he's my brother... and Y/N, she's family too. He disappears with you though and won't set foot in the packland again as long as I'm here. – he concluded, pointing to the wise man who didn't even manage to mutter his disappointment before Roman burst out laughing.

He’s crazy and dumb.

His hoarse laugh echoed throughout the entire empty hall and he didn't bother to hide it or hold back, simply running a hand over his beard to regain control only after a while. With the entire family's eyes on him, he knocked the table with his hand, eyeing his cousin once more.

Jey. The little soldier Jey. Roman had tried to keep him close, to teach him how things worked, because he loved him and still he didn’t get it. Not a single thing. Anything at all.

He persisted with his speeches even a few days before the moment which Roman would have removed him from the family, putting everything on the table to play the good pup. He wanted the title, he wanted to chase him away, but he was willing to vouch for his family anyway, for Solo who had kicked him and even Y/N… as if there was only one scenario out of all the ones imaginable in which Roman would have left her if not as a deadman or it would have allowed him to realize the ideas he had in his dumb head. He still thought the problem was him or the advice the wise man had given him to stay on top, he thought he could keep his hands clean, not involve anyone and he didn't understand that the situation they were in already, was the exact reason for which he would never have survived in Roman’s place.

- You're wasting my time – he said, giving him an annoyed smile.

Jey didn't reply, cashing in without even a nod. He was good at cashing in, Roman acknowledged it, it was his talent, perhaps his only one, but it still wouldn't have been enough against him. He might be determined and willing to fight him one more time, but it would be no use. Roman had no limits and had learned over the years and blows what was needed to kept the role he had.

- Whoever will standing at the end decides, tha’s the deal, the stipulation. There's nothing else to say – he established, tone suddenly deadly heavy.

There was nothing he wasn't willing to do or lose to keep what was his.

He saw Jey nod, imitate him and stand up and in the silence of the room leave the table to join him. Face to face to each other, he stared at his reflection in his cousin's dark eyes, the ulafala still around his neck as it was in the photo of him on the wall and as it always would be. He squeezed Jey forearm and allowed that even if the bond between them no longer existed, their wolves shared a final breath.

Blood of my blood. Brother. Traitor.

When the air left his lungs again to fill them with the stale smell of the center, Roman let go without hesitation, Jey imitating him in a perfect mirror. However, was he who turned his back on his cousin this time to go away first, ignoring the wise man's sad look and those of the rest of the family outside waiting. Y/N who had been on the sidelines the entire time, unexpectedly joined him, her back straight and face betraying nothing as she took her place next to him. Roman didn't comment, there was nothing to say.

Two weeks and he would have control again. Only two weeks before moving on.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @joannasteez @reignsx @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @333creolelady @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @spritelucozade @tribalchiefdaily @dreamsinfocus @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @smile1318

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x you #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fic

[cherrytraveller]

TMNT03′s defining moment that immediately made me fall in love with it

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#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 03 #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #digital art #digital sketch #clip studio paint #travellerdraws #fanart #cartoon #cartoons #i love them so much your honor #the way i gasped at leo's comeback #THE WAY I LAUGHED WHEN DON AND MIKEY WENT 'OOOOOOO' #shithead little brothers #like they really stand aside half of the time like 'FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT' #my scrunklies #okay now back to sketching my oc KJKDJBDBJK #also yes. these are my 03 designs JBDJBK #i just wanted to give them some more visual differences #also bc freckled mikey is my favorite concept

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 5: What I Want

Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown

A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.

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(Gif pulled from google)

You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs. 

You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up. 

Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble. 

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think. 

“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.” 

“Good.” 

You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?” 

“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.” 

You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them. 

“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand. 

“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.” 

“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.” 

“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it. 

“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles. 

“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake. 

“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door. 

Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. 

“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up. 

“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone. 

“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.” 

“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?” 

“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.” 

“Oh? How so?” 

“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins. 

Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.” 

“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.” 

“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.” 

“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.” 

“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.” 

“We’re doing our best.” 

“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.” 

“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.” 

“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.” 

Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.” 

You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too. 

You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost. 

“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway. 

You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough. 

He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through. 

Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt. 

You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them. 

Tattoos. 

He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings. 

You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him. 

“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand. 

You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles. 

“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.” 

You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you. 

“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you. 

You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit. 

“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...” 

“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him. 

You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run. 

You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.” 

“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks. 

He has a point. 

“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.” 

You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit. 

“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.” 

You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well. 

Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes. 

“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice. 

A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit. 

“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you. 

“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.” 

“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone. 

He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega. 

“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.” 

His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength. 

“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance. 

“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless. 

“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice. 

He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit. 

The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face. 

“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.” 

You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back. 

He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.

“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?” 

“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room. 

“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.” 

Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight. 

“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. 

“It’s his fault.” You murmur. 

“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows. 

Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.

It’s not yours. 

“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position. 

Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.” 

Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode. 

“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.” 

“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office. 

“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince. 

Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.” 

“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly. 

“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.” 

“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.” 

“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?” 

Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust. 

“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.” 

You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.” 

“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.” 

You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering. 

“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?” 

You nod. “Ozone.” 

She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.” 

Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess? 

You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack. 

“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?” 

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”

“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks. 

“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.” 

“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look. 

You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.” 

“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down. 

You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.” 

“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks. 

You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.” 

“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?” 

You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud. 

“Why not?” She asks. 

“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur. 

“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks. 

You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.” 

Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse. 

“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you. 

That word again. 

You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week. 

You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply. 

“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you. 

“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.” 

“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?” 

“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.” 

“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” 

Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain. 

“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?” 

“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.” 

Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.” 

She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin. 

“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide. 

“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.” 

“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...” 

Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”  

The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain. 

“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?” 

You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.” 

She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this. 

That’s not a conversation you want to have right now. 

You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her. 

It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to. 

You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in. 

“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly. 

“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys. 

She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms. 

Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?” 

You nod. “Thank you.” 

She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.” 

You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet. 

You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any. 

Ask for one thing that you want. 

It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to. 

You could ask for something that’s not material. 

Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today. 

You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed. 

You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants. 

You can want this. 

You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this. 

You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling. 

You want this. 

“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-” 

His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed. 

“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-” 

Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip. 

“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.” 

“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-” 

Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours. 

His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist. 

“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.” 

Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.” 

You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything. 

This isn’t a want. 

You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow. 

“Come in.” 

Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there? 

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen. 

You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.” 

You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air. 

“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough. 

You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.” 

“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.” 

You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap. 

Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him. 

“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him. 

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand. 

His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders. 

All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you. 

You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe. 

You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest. 

“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck. 

You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent. 

“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body. 

You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it. 

“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly. 

His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before. 

You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again. 

The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south. 

He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him. 

He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall. 

Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days. 

“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?” 

He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest. 

“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.” 

Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked. 

Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed. 

His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock. 

Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you. 

He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips. 

He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days. 

“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing. 

“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall. 

Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him. 

You’re going to be the death of him. 

Taglist, part 1:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #alpha beta omega #a/b/o #john price x reader #captain price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #ghost x soap #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.

He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.

More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.

Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.

He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.

"Harrington?"

The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"

"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.

Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.

Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."

"Just needed some air. Clear my head."

"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.

"One or two,"

"Dozen?"

Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"

Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."

"Yeah, big news."

"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.

Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.

He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"

The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).

Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.

With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.

---

Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?

That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.

The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.

Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.

It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.

The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.

A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.

Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.

---

The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.

When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.

"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.

Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.

"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.

"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"

Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.

"It was you? Leaving the--?"

Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"

"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."

"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.

"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."

Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"

"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."

Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.

"Didn't want me to think what?"

"That you weren't loved, Stevie."

The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.

"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.

"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"

"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.

Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."

The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"You wanna hangout some time?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #one shot #secret admirer #fluff #a tiny bit of angst #friends to lovers #feelings realization #feelings confession #pining eddie munson #oblivious steve harrington #mutual crushes #high school au #eddie is in love with steve

[suzukiblu]

Excerpt from the one where Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it.

(The read-more is definitely necessary, length-wise. I . . . got very into this idea and frankly this is barely a third of it so far, lol.)

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?"

"It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back. Like, unexpectedly far back, in fact.

"Yeah, I'm not actually blind, thanks," Kon says, turning the rock over and squinting at it. It continues not to do anything, aside from the glowing thing.

"No, it's pink kryptonite," she stresses.

". . . it literally doesn't hurt at all, though?" Kon says. Though he probably should've figured it was some kind of kryptonite, given that Metallo had it and had apparently thought he could hurt him with it.

Seriously, though, his gloves are fingerless and he's got it right in his hand. It should be hurting him, if it's actually kryptonite.

"Pink kryptonite doesn't work like that," Kara says, edging a little farther back. They're floating a few hundred feet in the air right now, but from the way she's acting Kon's vaguely concerned that he might be about to explode or something. "It just affects our sexual . . . urges."

"Oh," Kon says, frowning in confusion. Weird, but . . . "Is that all?"

"I don't mean like it makes you horny, Kon, I mean like it makes you homosexual," Kara hisses, looking mortified. "And don't ask how I know, alright?!"

Kon . . . blinks.

"What the literal fuck?" he asks incredulously, just staring at her. "How does that even–are you telling me Metallo went and chucked gay kryptonite at me in the middle of a fight?"

"Yes!" Kara says, still clearly mortified. "So just–just stay over there with it until somebody shows up with a lead box, okay?! The effects will stop after we get it contained."

"Alright, alright. So then do you think the dude was flirting with me or is he just a fucking idiot?" Kon jokes, balancing the kryptonite on his index finger with his TTK. "Although I really don't think he'd be my type either way. Like, nothing against cyborgs in general, obviously, just the whole thing with him being a murderous supervillain who literally runs on kryptonite seems like it'd make us totally star-crossed. I want somebody I can actually commit to, you know?"

"Sure," Kara says, still eyeing the kryptonite with serious trepidation. It's really not helping Kon feel less like a time bomb, to be honest. Is there like some other side effect that he should be worrying about right now or something? Like, is he missing something here?

"You seem kinda high-strung about this," he observes, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Look, you'd have avoided it too if you'd dealt with it before!" she says protestingly. "So stay over there and definitely keep it away from Kal, I don't know if Jimmy ever really recovered from the last time."

"Oh, well, congrats to Jimmy, I guess," Kon says, since he can't really see a downside to scoring a one-night stand with Superman. Like, a downside for somebody who isn't literally his clone, he means. The clone thing would definitely make it weird.

Just it's also Clark, though, so he'd probably be the generous type in bed. Like, the sort to really take care of somebody. Be as gentle as happened to be appropriate but also be down if his partner maybe wanted it a little rough for whatever reason. And he'd definitely be able to go all night. Again, Kon isn't gonna go there himself, it really would be too weird, but he can make a logical conclusion. Extrapolate one. Whatever.

Then again he'd be down with Power Girl absolutely destroying him whenever the fuck she wanted to and she's genetically his . . . some form of cousin or something, he guesses. His half-cousin from another reality. So really, Clark's not even that weird an option. And like, all appearances aside Kon's a binary clone anyway, not even a one-for-one match, sooooo . . .

Actually it's probably weirder that he thinks Power Girl is so unspeakably hot but comparatively Kara is just . . . fine? Like, that's a little odd, isn't it?

Maybe it's an attitude thing. Or the costume.

Might be safe to blame the costume, yeah.

It's just such a good costume. Like, Kon aspires to reach that level of costume.

But really, all that aside he still doesn't even know what the big deal about temporarily going gay is, although to be fair he's also currently talking to Supergirl and not, like . . . literally any dude whatsoever. So like, who knows how weird this stuff might actually make him under those circumstances. Maybe it like fucks with inhibitions and stuff too?

Yeah, hell if he knows. He's really only dealt with green kryptonite before. He was vaguely aware that other colors existed and apparently did different stuff, but . . . this just seems very different, put it that way.

Maybe best to avoid Jimmy Olsen for a little while, Kon decides privately. The guy probably doesn't need that.

Besides, Clark apparently got there first anyway and Kon just really doesn't want to be worrying about measuring up. Miss him with that, thanks.

. . . although maybe he'll go visit Tim later.

Eh, no, Kara made it sound like the pink K's gonna stop affecting him pretty quick once they box it up, so not much point in bothering. Though maybe he'll visit just to hang, come to think of it; they haven't seen each other in almost a whole week. Well, he hasn't seen Tim, at least–who knows how much Bat-surveillance Tim's seen him through.

Kon should maybe sweep his room for bugs again. Note to self.

Although would it be weird to just like . . . keep the pink kryptonite, maybe? Since it apparently doesn't actually hurt anyone or anything? Because that could be, well . . . just interesting, that's all. Like, Kon is open to exploring that experience. Just–as an experience.

"Actually, you're surprisingly not high-strung about this," Kara says.

"Am I?" Kon asks. "I mean, it's not that big a deal, is it?"

She stares at him.

"Kon," she says slowly. "Pink kryptonite affects your sexuality. It makes you attracted to people you're not normally attracted to. It confuses you and everyone around you and it is really freaking embarrassing to explain afterwards."

"I've been mind-controlled into shaving my head and breaking my best friend's arm," Kon says, continuing to not really see what the big deal is. "That was embarrassing. And fucking traumatic. This? This is just kinda weird."

"Only kinda?" Kara asks incredulously. "You're one of the straightest guys I know! How are you just fine with this?!"

"I mean to be fair, that's probably making some unfair generalizations about straight guys," Kon points out. Kara stares at him. "What?"

"I don't even know how to respond to that," she says.

"Sorry?" Kon says, then tucks the pink kryptonite into his jacket pocket with a shrug. He's not trying to hide it or anything; just getting kinda sick of holding it. And it's that or he either ditches it somewhere or starts tossing it around and that'd probably be . . . just, well, absolutely epically stupid of him.

Or it seems like it would be, anyway. Whatever color it is, it's still kryptonite.

"I mentioned keeping that away from Kal, right?" Kara says.

"Yeah, on that note, are they like . . . done down there yet?" Kon asks, glancing down towards the mess of the street that Clark's standing on a few hundred feet below with a whole bunch of randos from S.T.A.R. Labs, for some reason. Somebody mentioned something about neutralizing Metallo's kryptonite heart without actually killing him, but mostly it was science talk and clearly theoretical anyway so to be honest Kon'd kinda tuned it all out as "not currently relevant", and that's all he knows.

"Definitely not," Kara says.

"I'm gonna call Robin while we're killing time, then," Kon says, pulling out his phone.

"You're going to call your closest male friend," Kara says. "Right now. While you've got pink kryptonite in your pocket."

"Yup," Kon says, already pulling up Tim's contact.

"Can you not see how that might be a bad idea at the moment?" Kara asks. "Not in any way whatsoever?"

"Well I'm not calling Impulse," Kon replies reasonably. Kara stares at him again, for some reason.

Eh, whatever.

He calls Tim.

"Hey, Conner, what's up?" Tim answers distractedly, which Kon doesn't hold against him because when isn't Tim distracted, really. Dude's got too much going on in that head of his, for real. He's just glad the guy ever picks up the phone at all.

"So apparently I'm gay right now," Kon greets conversationally, figuring he should lead with that just in case he actually is about to do something embarrassing to explain. "Pink kryptonite is fucking weird, man."

". . . uh," Tim says as Kara covers her face with her hands. "What?"

"Pink kryptonite makes you gay, Kara says," Kon says. "And we're both just kind of chilling above downtown Metropolis waiting for Kal to finish up with the science-y people so we can get said pink K locked up, so I'm bored out of my mind right now and calling you to complain about it."

"You're calling me," Tim says slowly. "While you're . . . gay."

"What, is he asking to come over?" another voice asks from the phone, sounding amused. It takes Kon a second to recognize it, but–oh yeah, that's the mysterious Bernard, isn't it?

Right, Tim has a boyfriend now. Kon's never actually met him on account of being the worst at secret identities and the whole thing that is Bernard living very firmly in Gotham, land of "no metas allowed unless you're either a supervillain or Batman's too dead to stop you", but he's heard him over the phone a couple times now, although they've never actually personally talked. So maybe thinking about Tim while being high on pink kryptonite isn't actually, like, kosher? Or polite. Or whatever.

. . . then again, Bernard did ask.

"I don't know, maybe?" Kon says thoughtfully, considering the idea. "Are you open to me coming over?"

"Yes," Bernard says.

"Bernard," Tim says.

"Babe, I know we're pretending I don't know you're an ass-kicking vigilante and all but come on, don't make me turn down Superboy," Bernard says wryly.

"We're–wait, pretending?!" Tim sputters.

"Pretending so, so hard," Bernard confirms, sounding nothing but fond. Kon's actually a little jealous of that tone of voice, he's gotta admit. Like–it's been a bit since anybody's talked to him that way, is all. "But like, if you actually thought you were being subtle maybe you shouldn't talk about kryptonite on the phone right in front of me or put themed emojis next to all your superfriends' civilian names in your contacts list?"

"Oh my god, you do that?!" Kon asks with a gleeful cackle, immediately forgetting everything else in favor of that absolutely delightful piece of information. "You're the worst! Batman just rolled over in his grave and Oracle is absolutely losing her shit on the other end of her wiretap!"

"B's not even dead right now," Tim says in exasperation. "And if O cared she'd have already hacked my phone and changed them. And for the record plenty of people put random superhero emojis next to their friends' names, that's a totally normal thing to do!"

"Usually the random superhero emojis aren't associated with contact pics that are dead fucking ringers for said superheroes," Bernard says, sounding amused again. "Just as a thing and all."

". . . anyway so you're gay today, how's that going for you, Conner?" Tim says as Bernard laughs gleefully in the background. "Triggering any unfortunate mental health crisises or anything? Making you worry about the validity of your masculinity? Because I can safely assure you that's all bullshit and you're fine."

"Naw, I know all that, being gay is just a thing," Kon says with a shrug. "Kara's being a little weird about it but honestly it's going way better than, like, the times supervillains mind-controlled me into being into them. Like just as an overall experience, I mean."

"Wait, how many times has that come up?" Tim asks in bemusement.

"I dunno?" Kon shrugs again. "I mean you were there for the Poison Ivy incident, and then Gorgeous Gilly happened to me a while later, which was, uh, genuinely horrifying because she tried to literally marry me during all that, so . . . I think just the twice, probably? But don't quote me on that, I don't even remember what I had for breakfast."

"And how is Kara being weird, exactly?" Tim says in his very unsubtle "assessing my teammate's psychological condition" voice.

"Oh, she's mostly just avoiding me?" Kon says, as a guy who's personally not really all that concerned with his psychological condition at the moment. "Because I've got the rock in my pocket on account of not wanting to just leave it lying around somewhere and she doesn't want to get affected by it. I don't know why, I don't really get why it matters."

"I mean it matters, definitely," Bernard says. "Like it very strongly matters to a lot of people."

"Fair, but I think we're all too invulnerable to really have to worry about getting gay-bashed or anything," Kon reasons. "Like, at least not as a heat of the moment thing."

". . . god can you imagine the world we would live in if every piece of shit gay-basher had to deal with the consequences of punching fucking Superman?" Bernard says feelingly. "For real."

"Oh, pink K's temporary," Kon clarifies. "Kal's not gay anymore."

"Hold up, I'm sorry, are you saying that at some point he was?" Bernard demands in obvious delight. "Is that what you're telling me right now?"

"I guess he was into redheads?" Kon says, tilting his head. "Slightly twinky redheads, specifically. Which I don't blame him for, I'm gonna be honest."

"Well now I know that forever, thanks," Tim says dryly.

"Alternate option: he could've been into Batman," Kon points out.

"Redheads it is," Tim says. "You just . . . redhead away over there."

"I mean I thought about it, kinda," Kon admits.

"Ngh," Tim says, for some reason.

"No thinking about Batman, though?" Bernard asks with a snicker.

"Not so much," Kon says, making a face. "Did consider having some Superman thoughts but I'm apparently not that narcissistic, surprisingly enough."

"Kon!" Kara chokes.

"Tell me you've never considered having Superman thoughts and I'll tell you you're a fucking liar," Kon snorts, shooting her a dry look. "Weren't you like totally naked when you first showed up on Earth? And then he found you like that and wrapped you up in his cape all nice and gentlemanly and took you home with him?"

"He is my baby cousin and you're being affected by pink kryptonite poisoning!" Kara accuses, her face bright red.

"Wait, is it actually poisoning me?" Kon says with a frown. "I feel like you should've led with it actually poisoning me, if that's actually a thing."

"Well no, not actually, it's physically harmless," Kara says grudgingly, folding her arms. "But you're still being affected! You're having Superman thoughts, of all things!"

"He just seems like he'd be considerate," Kon says reasonably. "Like, you know. Biblically."

"Ngh," Tim says, again for no apparent reason. Bernard sounds like he might be laughing. Or choking? Or maybe both; it's unclear.

"Please don't hit on Kal," Kara says. "Especially don't hit on Kal with pink kryptonite in your pocket. I don't want to know how that situation would end up."

"Ideally with him being considerate," Kon says. Tim chokes. Kara covers her face again.

"Does pink kryptonite affect your inhibitions too or are you just always like this?" Bernard asks curiously.

"Eh, pretty sure I'm just always like this, going by the things I've definitely still not been forgiven for saying to Power Girl," Kon says, idly tapping a finger against the side of his phone case. "Like, pretty damn sure at this point."

"That is unfortunately accurate," Tim agrees resignedly.

"So you're saying it is ethically okay to have Superboy over while he's gay," Bernard says in a promisingly speculative tone. Kon grins. Just a little, but yeah–definitely he grins. Kara grimaces, because she is absolutely no fun whatsoever.

Spoilsport.

"I did not in any way say that," Tim retorts dubiously.

"I mean that's what I heard, man, and I'm the one with super-hearing in this conversation," Kon says with a wider grin. "My inhibitions are all inhibited and my personal opinions of people are all the same, I'm just currently batting for the other team."

"So your normal opinion of me is that if you were gay, you'd come over," Tim says dryly.

"Yeah?" Kon says, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, obviously."

"How is that obvious?" Tim says.

"Because I already come over every time you let me," Kon reminds him.

"Oh yeah?" Bernard says slyly. "And how often does he let you come, exactly?"

"Not often enough," Kon replies honestly, and doesn't even bite at the obvious dumb sex joke Bernard so thoughtfully set up for him even though it is frankly painful not to.

"Ngh," Tim says. Kon continues not to understand the reason for him repeatedly making that same weird little noise, but whatever, he guesses. It's Tim, maybe he's stitching his own bullet wounds again or something. Guy's a multi-tasker like that.

"You know this would probably make for a fascinating case study about sexuality, actually," Bernard says musingly. "I mean, all I intend to do is abuse the situation to get into your very tight tights, but seriously, maybe we should all be taking notes or something."

"Ugh, hell no, Rob'll go full Bat if we let him do that," Kon snorts, then smirks. "He can take pictures, though, I know he's into that."

"Ngh," Tim says yet again, accompanied by a weird random "thump". If Kon didn't know better, he'd think he'd just fallen off a chair or something.

"Aw dammit, dude, I think I actually like you as a person now," Bernard says, sniggering. "Are you keeping the kryptonite? Please keep the kryptonite. Like, just for Valentine's and Tim's birthday, that's all I ask."

"Honestly don't know if Superman's gonna let me but I do kinda wanna," Kon admits. It seems pretty convenient, really. And definitely fun.

". . . and you're sure his inhibitions and opinions aren't being influenced in any way, Kara?" Tim asks suspiciously.

"He's really just like this, yeah," Kara says resignedly. "Well admittedly Kal spontaneously developed opinions on window treatments and used the word 'smashing' in cold blood when it happened to him, but that might've just been him sucking at flirting. Because he really does suck at flirting."

"What about when it was you?" Kon asks curiously.

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara says.

"You kinda implied–"

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara repeats, narrowing her eyes at him and doing an impressively bad job of acting like she's not blushing.

So it definitely happened to her, yeah.

"Okaaaaay, we'll pretend about that too then," Bernard says. "Well, what are your opinions on window treatments, Conner?"

"That I don't know what they are," Kon says.

"Sounds like he's in his right mind to me," Bernard says.

"He is absolutely not," Kara retorts dubiously.

"I really don't feel weird or anything, I swear," Kon tells her, since he still doesn't get the problem but also doesn't actually want to worry her either. "I don't even feel any different."

"Kon, you are hitting on your best friend and his boyfriend," Kara says. "Together. At once. Simultaneously, one might even say."

"You've met Wonder Girl and Arrowette before, right?" Kon says. "And both the Batgirls? And–"

"Oh my god, Kon," she cuts him off.

"Just saying," he says, then pauses for a moment and frowns consideringly. "Actually, question, how gay is this stuff making me, because while we're on the topic of threeways I kinda always wondered about what Starfire and Nightwing get up to together and if–"

"KON!" Kara yells, covering her ears.

"I'm just asking," he huffs.

"I don't know if it's actually possible to be gay enough to not be into Starfire," Bernard says musingly. "Like I can't imagine how it ever could be."

"Right?" Kon says.

"It's possible to not be into Starfire," Tim says. "Like, theoretically. Asexuals and aromantics both exist, for one."

"Do they?" Kon says doubtfully. "Like in general, sure, but when around specifically Starfire?"

". . . I can't technically prove you wrong due to a lack of reliable evidence but still," Tim says. "The possibility is there. If nothing else the multiverse is a thing."

"Last time I saw her she was wearing half a gold lamé bikini and I am not going to tell you which half or define how loosely I am using the term 'wearing'," Kon says.

"I said it's possible, not probable," Tim says.

"What about you, man, are you the gold lamé type?" Bernard asks with a teasing snicker. "Just while you're gay and all, of course. That's like, practically a cultural thing. Gotta be authentic to the experience, yeah?"

"That is in no way whatsoever a cultural thing, babe," Tim says dubiously.

"Please, like I've never worn freaking lamé," Kon scoffs. "I've worn collars and loincloths and leather and crop tops and enough unnecessary belts to tie up a Bat, lamé is nothing."

"Collars and . . . loincloths?" Bernard repeats, sounding confused.

"Yeah, this one time I crash-landed on a lost isle of beast-men and they kidnapped and enslaved me for a few months," Kon explains, waving a hand distractedly. "Frankly I count myself lucky they even let me have the collar, much less the loincloth."

". . . um," Bernard says.

"You, uh, never mentioned the collar part of that story before, Kon," Tim says, clearing his throat. "You very definitely never mentioned the collar part of that story before."

"Oh yeah, the prince kinda kept me as his pet for a little bit?" Kon tells him with an easy shrug. "Like he and all his buddies ganged up on me and then took me home with them, but I was kinda . . . feral, I guess? Technically? So like, collar and chain setup. But he was cool, he took real good care of me."

"Ngh," Tim says just barely faintly.

"Yeah you should definitely come over," Bernard says. "Tim, get the check. Conner, exactly how super is your super-speed?"

"You can just call me Kon," Kon says. "And . . . mach 3, last I clocked it?"

"Isn't that like two thousand miles per hour?" Bernard asks.

"Two thousand two hundred and twenty-three point three," Kon replies with a pleased smirk. "Faster than a speeding bullet. Or so they tell me."

"We'll just meet you at Tim's, how's that," Bernard says. "That work for you, Kon?"

"That works for me, Bernard," Kon confirms, smirking wider.

"Oh my god, Kon, you cannot possibly be serious right now," Kara says in exasperation, rubbing at her temples. "Just because you're temporarily gay doesn't mean you should do anything about it!"

"I mean, I'm feeling pretty serious?" Kon says, shrugging again. He still doesn't get why she's being so sensitive about this. "It's not like this is the weirdest thing I've ever done in pursuit of a good time. Like, holy hell, lemme tell you about the Ravers sometime."

"You're going to have to look Robin in the eye after this!" Kara says. "And work with him! And be a normal person in his presence! Normally!"

"I'm aware?" Kon says, vaguely bemused by her concern. Like he's never been normal around somebody he's slept with before, geez. "Tell Kal I ran off with the pink K, if he wants to lock it up in the Fortress or wherever I can bring it back tomorrow."

"Maybe Monday," Bernard says.

"Or maybe Monday," Kon amends.

"It's Thursday!" Kara sputters.

"So it's a long weekend," Bernard says.

"I'm not explaining this to Kal," Kara says. "I'm not explaining this to Batman."

"I really don't see why you'd have to," Kon says. "Rob, you cool with the long weekend thing? Not too much of an imposition?"

". . . I got the check," Tim mutters in obvious and absolute mortification.

Kon's gonna take that as a "yes".

"Cool," he says, grinning broadly. "See you soon, Boy Wonder."

He ends the call. Kara drags her hands down her face and continues to stay very far away from him and the pink kryptonite in his pocket.

"When you go back to normal and freak out and make everything weird with Robin and your team and even Robin's literal boyfriend, I'm going to say so many 'I told you so's," she swears vehemently. "So don't say I didn't warn you."

"Your objection is on the record," Kon says, then tosses her a lazy salute with another grin and takes off, kryptonite and all.

Best to just scarper while Clark's distracted, yeah?

Definitely best.

#kon el #tim drake #bernard dowd #timberkon #timkon #timber #superboy #dc robin #rinfic #wip: think pink

[cobrakaisb]

what was i made for?

summary: everybody hates you, but luke could never see you that way; luke hates himself, but he’s always going to be the center of your galaxy.

word count: 2.3k

featuring: angst, reader and luke share a vape (sue me🙈), but also friend dynamics, and official godly parent reveal 🙌, reader and luke are basically together (without the labels).  

series masterlist ||| previous ||| next 

“i hate it here,” you announce, taking a seat at the hermes table for breakfast. 

chris, luke, and katrina all exchange glances. you can sense their nerves from a mile away, and their unease only seems to heighten when you slam your plate and goblet on the table. chris opens his mouth, ready to comment on your behavior, but he decides not to when you throw a nasty glare his way. 

“wow, you’re hera’s daughter,” katrina teases, nudging your shin with her own from across the table. 

“no shit, really?” you reply, stabbing a lone strawberry on your plate.

“no seriously, your glare is exactly like hers. i can see her staring at me in disapproval and everything,” katrina continues with a wide smile on her face.

you flash a tight-lipped smile in response, but don’t take the bait that’s dangling in front of you. over the past few months, you’ve established quite the reputation at camp half-blood. aside from being something akin to a forbidden child -- because it was always assumed that hera would never have children -- your nasty temper, smart mouth, and enormous ego have led to a number of fights. all of them were petty, with campers making claims about you that were so far into leftfield you were surprised they even caught on. 

“what happened this time?” luke asks, his shoulder brushing against yours when he leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. 

“that stupid fucking lava wall,” you grumble, taking a bite of your pancakes. 

“okay…” katrina prompts, waving her hand in a continue motion. 

you swallow your food before answering, “i love the lava wall, it’s such a good workout, but i hate that my time slot is the same as the ares kids.” 

“nothing new, but what’d they do now?” katrina asks. 

“annoy me,” you answer.

luke says your name in the same tone he uses when travis and connor get caught pulling some master prank. you can hear the disappointment in his tone, and that elicits an eye roll from you. he doesn’t even know the full story, and he’s already picking a side other than yours, typical. 

“sorry, that we can’t all be the golden child like you,” you sneer, getting up from the table to throw the rest of your food in the burning fire pit.

everybody knows you prayed to your mother when the flames flash a deep purple before flickering back to their normal orange. 

“i’ll talk to her,” katrina says, standing up from her seat. 

luke lifts up his hand, shakes his head no, and replies, “i got it.” 

he follows you out of the dining pavilion and into the woods. you know he’s there because you can hear the cracks of twigs and rustling of bushes as he matches your step. only two people are crazy enough to follow you, but only one of them knows when to walk in silence.

“go back to camp luke,” you demand, pushing a branch out of the way. 

“not until you tell me what the fuck happened at the lava wall,” he answers, dodging the branch before it makes contact with his nose. 

you stop short, looking at long island sound through a small gap in the trees. luke knows the spot; you two come here frequently. he waits for a moment, admiring your straight back. even when you’re feeling your worst, you still muster up the courage to walk with the confidence of a princess. 

“the same old shit. you know the story,” you mumble, eyes squinting from the glare of the sun. 

luke sighs. he doesn’t understand why you put up this mask with him. why do you feel the need to continue being the strong, confident, arrogant, and put-together, daughter of hera when it’s just the two of you? he steps closer to you, standing directly behind you so his arms can wrap around your waist. you lean back into his chest, shoulders sagging in defeat. 

“i never used to care what people thought of me, now it’s all i can think about. this was supposed to be different, luke,” you whisper. 

luke doesn’t say anything in return. he drops his forehead against the back of your head, and squeezes your hips just a bit tighter. camp was supposed to be different. you were meant to feel wanted and seen; he was meant to become a hero with ultimate glory. from the looks of it, neither of you are anywhere close to getting what you deserve. 

—

some days were harder than others, luke knew this. yet, it didn’t make it any easier when one of those hard days came around. each and every time he feels utterly dead to the world, wanting nothing more than to rot away in the comfort of his bottom bunk in the hermes cabin. being head counselor doesn’t afford that luxury. so, he takes a deep breath, musters up every ounce of courage his body could possibly possess, and walks out the door. 

usually, the training arena is quiet in the mornings. nobody, not even the most dedicated warriors, is willing to get up earlier than they need to. sleep is a hot commodity at camp half-blood. and so is privacy. so, luke relishes in the quiet mornings where he’s surrounded by the soft tweets of birds, the slash of his sword, and his heavy breathing. he trains and trains, searching for a way to be good enough again. he used to pray, but after years of going unheard and unanswered, he gave up on connecting with his father.

he thinks of his mother, alone in their house in suburban connecticut. she never doubted hermes, even when he left them for worse; her faith kept her loyal. luke wishes that he had her loyalty, but he doesn’t. instead, all he feels is anger and resentment towards his father. he swings his sword again, cutting through the outer layer of the dummy, and watches as the stuffing falls gracefully to the ground.  

“that’s a lot of slashes,” you comment, and your voice draws him out of his own head.

he ignores you, continuing on with his practice session. 

“you know you can take a break, right?” you ask, coming to stand behind him. 

luke’s arm falls to his side, his sword resting against his thigh. his head falls forehead, and he takes in a deep breath, letting the clean air fill his lungs. your hand sneaks between the strap of his bronze breastplate and his bright orange t-shirt. he takes another breath, and your chin digs into his shoulder before you drop a kiss on the exposed skin by the collar of his shirt. 

you don’t say anything, and luke appreciates that about you. ever since your arrival at camp, he’s tried to pinpoint what exactly draws him to you. every time he comes up empty handed, but at this moment he knows it’s your willingness to just let him be. you never force him to be happy or content with the gods’ and their behavior. you embrace the darkness slowly rising inside of him, even when he tries to suppress it. 

“i just want to be good enough,” luke whispers, finally allowing himself to be vulnerable. 

your arms tighten around him, and you reply, “you are good enough.” 

“not for him,” he mumbles. 

“he’s not good enough for you,” you say assertively. 

luke doesn’t comment on your words. the conviction in your voice is enough to inform him that there’s no changing your mind. he wishes he believed you, but he doesn’t. 

“you’re not the one who failed their quest,” luke mumbles. 

you openly scoff at his words, letting go of him. he waits patiently for your next move and stumbles when you pull him towards your face by the strap of his armor. your eyes met, and luke swear he’s never seen such fury brewing in them.

“don’t ever use that as a determinant of your worth. that quest was impossible luke, and he knew that,” you seethe. 

luke blinks, letting your words sink in. he can’t believe them; he doesn’t believe them. 

“it was my chance, my one chance to show him that i’m worthy,” luke whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. 

you let out a shaky breath and luke can feel the anger and frustration radiating off you in waves. he knows that if he wasn’t holding you in his arms, olympus would fall. he blinks, and you’re standing there, in the middle of crumbled temples and the debris of ancient ruins with the fiercest look in your eyes. you’re hera’s daughter, and you’re loyal to a fault, he thinks.

“i just don’t know how much longer i can do this,” he confesses, kissing your earlobe. 

“me too,” you answer, squeezing him tighter. 

—

the two of you are sitting on the dock, feet dangling over the edge as your toes barely graze the surface of the water. you always meet here after all the campers in the hermes cabin settled into bed. when he was able to sneak out and away from their curious eyes.

“i hate it here,” you whisper, leaning further back into luke’s chest.

“you don’t hate it here,” he mumbles, fumbling around in the pocket of his cargo pants. 

“i do,” you answer with certainty. “everybody here hates me. except maybe you and katrina,” you continue. 

luke doesn’t accept or deny your statement. instead, he just hands you the orange stick. you scoff at him, but take the vape from his hands anyways. one thing about luke, he feeds your addictions; every single one of them. instead of thanking him, like you normally would, you bring the vape to your mouth, inhaling deeply. you wait a second, letting the toxins fill your lungs, and then release the smoke in one puff. there’s nothing sexy or hot about the action, but luke squeezes your side, pulling you a bit closer. 

“i can’t believe my plug is my boyfriend,” you joke, but there’s no happiness in your tone. 

luke pokes your side. you switch the vape to your left hand, holding it out to him. you wait patiently for him to take it, but he doesn’t. that confuses you. you turn to face him, forehead bumping against his chin. it hurts, but you just grit your teeth instead of saying anything. luke grimaces, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

“there are other people here who like you,” luke says.

“name them,” you demand, taking another hit. 

luke takes the item from you, uses it, and then answers, “chris.” 

“is your friend not mine,” you reply. 

luke rolls his eyes. “connor and travis,” he continues. 

“enjoy torturing me, not my company. besides, they’re like ten,” you say. 

“okay then, what about clarisse?” luke asks.

now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, “clarisse tolerates me.” 

“that’s more than i can say,” luke answers, and you snort at his response. 

luke smiles softly at you, and you feel your cheeks heat up. you hate when he does that. when he looks at you like you’re the only person he could possibly dream about. there are days where there's such deep admiration for you in his eyes, you wonder if he leaves burnt offerings in your name instead of the gods.

you turn his face in the opposite direction and whisper, “don’t do that.” 

“do what?” he asks nonchalantly.  

“you know what,” you answer, shooting him a pointed look. 

luke grins. it’s proud and cocky, telling you that he knows exactly what he’s doing. his brown eyes crinkle at the corners, and his scar bunches up with the upturn of his lips. you think he looks the prettiest in this moment; in the dark of the night, with messy curls, grimy skin, and a vibrant smile. you turn again, so that your legs are draped across his lap, and wrap your left arm around the back of his neck. luke’s left hand, the one previously resting against your side, lands on your right thigh, and he squeezes the flesh there as he kisses your temple. 

“do you think we moved too fast?” you ask, taking the vape from his right hand. 

luke waits, expecting you to take a hit, but you just look at him with eager eyes.

“i think we’re doing everything right,” he explains. 

his words hold a deeper meaning that you refuse to acknowledge at the moment. you know what’s going on, but you don’t want to think about it. what would mother say?, you wonder. you lean your head against luke’s shoulder, nose brushing against the crook of his neck, and close your eyes.

“do you think icarus knew he was falling to his death?” luke asks, breaking the silence.

it takes you a moment, but you respond, “maybe. i’m not sure.”

“i mean he was flying the whole time, and then suddenly, he’s plummeting into the mediterranean,” luke continues, taking the vape from your hand.  

“maybe he wanted to die,” you reply, tilting your head to meet his brown eyes. 

a confused expression overcomes luke’s face, propelling you to continue on: “he must have known that the sun would melt the wax, and then his wings would break. i think icarus meant to die, trying to send a message to daedalus or even maybe the gods.”

luke ponders your words for a minute. the gears in his head turning as he contemplates the truth behind your theory. is that what we’re doing?, he wonders. the brewing plans between the two of you linger over his head like a dark cloud, but he can’t bring himself to regret anything.

“so icarus had a greater purpose…like us,” luke observes, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“exactly,” you answer, leaning into his side. 

luke hands the vape back to you, and you pocket it for good this time. he exhales deeply, engulfing you in a cloud of mango-scented smoke. it burns your lungs, but at least you feel something, which is more than you can say as of lately. 

“i just want to be happy,” luke announces. 

“happy and free,” you decide, kissing his cheek delicately.

taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @used2beee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcillia @obxstiles @maraschinocherry3

#luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan oneshot #all american bitch series #cobrakaisb writing

[raspberriesoda]

and again. » ljn

genre | angst with fluffy ending, jeno x reader, college au

word count | 2.7k

summary | you hadn’t seen jeno since you had broken up, but a new year’s party brings you back together again, physically and emotionally

warnings | argument, small mention of past relationship issues and insecurity, light swearing, teeniest alcohol mention, flashback where jeno is a dick to reader, one female pet name (pretty girl) but i think its pretty gn aside from that

tonight marks roughly one year.

it’s been an entire twelve months since the big fight that had ultimately caused the downfall of one of the most fawned over relationships on campus. in one year, you’d surprisingly- impressively, even- managed to avoid talking to him or seeing him in person at all.

which really, was your biggest motive for desperately wanting to skip out on the party tonight. you knew jeno would be there, despite the numerous attempts by all of your friends of trying to convince you otherwise. but you knew that you couldn’t bail on everyone who hadn’t seen you since you arrived back from visiting home. not to mention, everyone was going to be there. it’s new years eve, and no one misses the new years party. so you just had to swallow your pride and attend.

the fact that it was the very same party that drove you apart the year prior, however, is another major reason you’d rather just stay home.

even as you sat in your best friend’s car, you weighed your options.

“do we really have to go?”

“are you really asking me that when we’re already half way there?” ningning asks, but its less of a question and more of a statement. “i can drop you off on the street if you really want me to,” she jabs.

you groan, your head falling against the headrest and your hands sliding down your face.

“who’s to say he’s even gonna be there anyway?” karina asks from the backseat.

“stop giving me hope, everyone is going to be there.” you sulk, crossing your arms and sinking down in the passenger seat.

“then what are the chances you'll even run into him? more people more distractions, right?” giselle consoles. she had a valid point, but even the slimmest chance made you want to rip your hair out.

ningning parallel parks her car on the side of the residential road, and the house party practically lights up the entire night sky. your girlfriends chatter excitedly as their heels clack on the sidewalk, all the while you’re hoping, praying that karina and giselle are right.

but as fate would have it, not even three footsteps in the door, you spot him. and unfortunately, your presence doesn’t go unnoticed either.

jeno is stood by the fireplace, deep in conversation, but sees you almost immediately upon your arrival, like the universe was on a timer, counting down to the exact second that your eyes would meet again, not a moment too soon or too late. his lips are parted like he stopped mid sentence, and you stand dumbfounded in the doorway, staring stupidly at him as people shove past you to enter.

renjun taps jeno’s shoulder from beside him, most likely trying to bring his attention back, but jeno’s eyes never leave yours, and you see him mouth your name in response to his confused friend, making your heart flip. renjun follows his eyes, adding to the unwanted attention that’s been placed on you. jeno then suddenly takes a few steps toward you, squeezing through the dense crowd, but before you think it through, you scurry off in the other direction.

“y/n, will you stop pouting about it already?”

you enter your apartment with jeno trailing behind you, your mood extremely sour as you open the door and let it slam against the wall.

“i’m not pouting, jeno. i’m upset, do you not get that?”

“you’re so dramatic,” jeno scoffs. he kicks off his shoes and drops his jacket over the back of your couch, so nonchalant about the whole situation that it makes you even angrier.

“she was all over you!” you cry out in desperation. you’ve repeated this what seemed like a hundred times already, but no matter what you said jeno wouldn’t even attempt to understand.

or maybe, he just didn't care.

“you couldn't even bother to just tell her to stop!”

jeno rolls his eyes. “i told you, y/n, i did tell her to stop. she wouldn’t listen.”

“then that's when you walk away, jeno. push her off of you, ignore her, anything! actions speak louder than words.” your arms flail wildly as you speak. “why do i even have to explain something like this to you? i’ve told you about what’s happened to me before and-“

he’s not even looking at you.

“are you listening?! do you even give a shit about how i feel right now?”

“not when you’re acting like this, y/n.” he drones, tapping away at his phone screen. “maybe if you’d just calm down and acted a little less crazy i’d be more inclined.”

all you feel is red. red from the sting of tears muddling your line of vision. red from the prick of your nails digging into your palms as they grip into fists at your sides. red for the old wound he’s just slashed open.

your voice is low and calm when you speak again.

“get the fuck out of here, jeno.”

only then does he decide to look at you.

“babe-” the smallest hint of guilt crosses his eyes, but he’s burned the bridge already. he reaches a hand out toward you, but you step back as if he’s venomous.

“get out!” you screech, not even caring that it rattles the walls. jeno flinches back. with a huff, he grabs his things and stomps out the door, slamming it behind him.

against all odds, everywhere you look, he’s there.

you see him when you’re seated by the tv watching a tipsy group of freshman struggle to get through a round of a dancing game; he’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch, laughing when they stumble.

and again, when you’re outside soaking in the fresh air; he’s got the attention of everyone lounging in the hot tub, telling them stories behind the constellations visible from the deck.

and again, when you’re reaching into the fridge for another drink; he’s pouring shots for swooning girls at the kitchen island.

always suspiciously close, yet just far enough away.

you initially thought it to be just an unfortunate coincidence, but the house was much too big and had too many other places to be. he’s attracting way too much attention to himself in such ways that it’s impossible for him not to be pining for yours in particular.

enough is enough. you decide that if jeno wants a show, you’ll give him a show.

the basement is the one place left in the house where you hadn’t seen him. its a cozy little space, with sports banners and posters of swimsuit clad models cluttering the walls, and along with the pair of couches there's a large pool table. you watch as your friend jaemin stands beside it, twirling his pool cue in his hands, laughing at something haechan had said. you swirl the liquid around in your red solo cup, an idea brewing in your mind.

right on time, you see jeno descend the staircase. you stand, walking over to jaemin.

“help me with something,” you whisper into his ear. he gives you a curious look, but when your eyes flick over to jeno, jaemin understands immediately and gives you a subtle nod.

it’s no secret to you- or to anyone, really- that jeno is watching you. you can feel his eyes on you, burning your skin as you grab the cue from jaemin’s hand and lean over the bright green table to shoot a striped ball into a pocket. jaemin gives you a charming smile, complimenting your technique. his bubblegum hair reminds you of the color jeno’s was before the breakup. it’s never bothered you before, but your heart involuntarily twists at the thought.

you hum, rounding the table to stand right beside your pink haired friend, scanning for the right ball to shoot in next. you lift your cue to point at the number ten ball, turning to jaemin, tilting your head.

“i don’t think i can get this one on my own, do you mind helping me out?” you ask smoothly, dragging your fingers up his arm. your friend picks up quickly, smirking down at your innocently pouty expression.

“sure thing, pretty,” jaemin hums with faux flirtation. he does a flawless job of dragging his hands along all of the parts your body that were jeno’s favorites, and you can almost feel his stare burn hotter. you not-so-subtly bite down a grin as jaemin leans over you, breathing heavily down your neck as he guides the cue through your arms, shooting the ball directly into a pocket.

after watching from the corner for a while, jeno begins to make his way towards you, telling you that he’s had enough of staying arms length away.

“you’re not subtle,” jeno says bluntly. its directed at you, but he’s glaring at jaemin.

you scowl, casually chalking up the tip of the cue you hold. “a bit narcissistic to think this is about you, don’t you think?” you hadn't expected those to be the first words you’d spoken to him in a year.

“do you mind?” jaemin interjects, his hand resting on your hip. “we’re in the middle of something.”

the tension in the room rises.

“well, whenever you’re finished,” jeno spits through his teeth. he shifts his eyes down toward you then, his gaze just a little bit softer. “i’d be really grateful if you’d meet me outside. i wanna talk to you, if you’ll let me.” and with that he’s gone.

after serious contemplation, you do decide meet him outside, despite a very sensible voice in your head telling you not to. as soon as you slide open the glass door and step out onto the grass, he’s leaning against the side of the house, closer to you than he’s been all night- all year. this close up view of him makes your heart flutter more than you’d ever be willing to admit in the moment. his hair is a shade of brown you’ve never seen on him, but his eyes glimmer just the same as they always have when he looks at you.

“long time no see, baby,” he greets you, the corner of his mouth tipped up in a small somber looking smile.

“that’s not my name.”

“it used to be,” he replies. you roll your eyes.

“what do you want, jeno?” it’s harder to say his name out loud than you thought it would be.

“i know you’ve been thinking about it, too,” he says softly, a very sharp contrast from the vibe he’s been presenting to other partygoers the entire night. the bass thumping upstairs is synched with your heartbeat. you still can’t bring yourself to look directly at him. “there’s no other reason you’d pull a stunt like that. jaemin is handsome, sure, but he’s not your type.” you fold your arms, slumping a bit. you hate that he’s right; that you haven’t changed enough during the time that’s passed and he can still read you like an open book.

“doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

jeno swallows, his head bowing forward to fix his eyes on his feet.

“i wanted to say i’m sorry.”

you turn to look at him then, your brows raised. “isn’t it a little late for that?”

“you blocked my number,” he says; you’d almost forgotten you had, in fact, blocked him on just about everything. “i couldn’t get a hold of you in person, either.

but i didn’t know what to say even if i could. there’s no excuse for what i said to you, and an ‘i’m sorry’ doesnt cut it.”

the look jeno is giving you is so genuine that its hard to breathe. all of a sudden your facade begins to crumble. “i can’t- i’m not doing this, not right now,” you tell him dolefully, turning around to slip back into the house, but he catches your elbow; his grip is soft, unthreatening, unmalicious.

“please, please just listen to me, i’m begging you.” when you turn around he’s on his knees, looking up at you with a pleading look on his face and your hand is clasped between both of his own. you despise how he looks so beautiful in the dim moonlight.

“jeno.” you blink your tears away. “don’t beg for me, please.”

he tugs lightly on your wrist, and reluctantly you sink down to kneel in front of him on the grass.

“i haven’t had a full night’s sleep in a year. every time i dream, its about you. believe me y/n i've tried so hard to let it go but the things i said to you still haunt me.”

his eyes flicker across yours, glistening with tears of his own, searching for something he can grab onto. the floodgates holding your emotions in begin to crack at a rate that’s too quick for you to keep up with. “you, you knew how i felt, about things like that,” your voice stutters, your lip quivers. “you knew, and, and you still-“ you choke on a sob.

“i know. y/n i’m so sorry,” he gingerly lifts a hand to your face, pausing for a moment, but when you don’t lean away or swat at him, his thumb brushes your cheek to wipe a tear away that’s just fallen from your lashes, tenderly tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “thinking about how i made you feel that night makes me so disgusted with myself. i never ever wanted to hurt you, but the fact is that i did and i can’t forgive myself for that.”

a moment of quiet passes between you. you wipe at your face with the sleeve of your sweater over and over but your tears don’t stop and the runaway drops fall onto your bare knees.

“do you remember when we won king and queen of prom court in high school?”

his sudden question puzzles you. you look up at him, and you see the real jeno. your jeno, soft and simple and so full of love.

“we went out for ice cream after the dance. it was the first night i told you i loved you.

and again, when we went to your sister's wedding together. you accidentally spilled red wine on my favorite white dress shirt. you were trying so hard not to cry, but i told you it didn’t matter, because i loved you.

and again, when we took your little brother and his friends out to that laser tag place for his birthday. we played one on one, and when you asked me why i let you win, i told you it was because i loved you.

and again, when you broke your wrist falling off the old tire swing in your front yard. you asked me why i came over every night to feed you dinner, even though you didn’t need the help, and i told you it’s because i loved you.”

“what are you doing?” you cut him off before he can continue any further, your voice small and trembling.

“i’m telling you that i still love you.”

he scoots forward on the ground, his body now so close to yours that you can feel his warmth. “i know i don’t deserve it, but all i’m asking for is another chance to love you right, the way you deserve to be loved.” his fingers cling tightly to your hand he still holds as he speaks.

“i don't know where you stand, so you’ve got all the power in your hands right now. stay here with me, and i’ll know we’re on the same page. turn around, and i’ll leave you alone, and you won’t see me again. it’s your choice, and i won’t judge you either way. your word is the final word.”

you feel heavy. his sweet words and the smell of his familiar cologne are intoxicating, but you do know you have the ability to get up and walk away right now if you want to.

but… do you want to?

the painful racing of your heart reminds you that no matter what, no matter how long you’ve been apart, you love jeno. you always have you and always will.

you raise a hesitant arm, placing your shaking hand lightly on his shoulder, and he draws in a breath. your fingers dance upward, contemplating, lips parted slightly with hazy breaths. cupping his jaw, you lean upward, brushing your lips against his in the lightest kiss, testing the waters.

you ignite. suddenly you’re full of such a serene feeling of home, a feeling you hadn’t realized had been absent from your life from the second you pushed him out of it. all the memories you’d tried so hard to keep at bay come rushing back with the image of a soft and smiley jeno; one who’s never had anything but love for you. jeno sees your eyes light up, and he smiles dreamily at you. in an instant, you’ve never been more sure of anything.

you press yourself up against him, pulling him down into your lips, and he wraps you up in his arms. even though the house is filled with the sounds and heat of other people, it’s only you and jeno in the entire world. you pull away when you can’t control your cries anymore, burying your face in his neck instead.

“i’m sorry,” your voice wobbles as you let out the words, but jeno sweetly hushes you, rocking you back and forth in time with the rhythm of the muffled music.

“no apologies from you, pretty girl. none of this is your fault.” you feel the weight of the world lifted from your shoulders. he presses a gentle kiss to your temple, resting his chin on top of your head.

“i love you,” he reassures you. and he does again, and again, and again.

#lee jeno #lee jeno angst #lee jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno fluff #lee jeno drabble #jeno drabble #jeno imagine #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream drabble #nct dream x reader #judah.doc

[satan-plundered-our-oceans]

★。／ falling in love with you ＼。★

ask: this was a request! but I can't find the ask on my old blog, but I do know that it was a quirkless!assistant!reader with midoriya, todoroki, bakugo, shinso, monoma, and kendo. I did cut off monoma and kendo since I feel like I don't know enough about their characters, if that's ok!

pairing: midoriya x gn! reader, todoroki x gn! reader, bakugo x gn! reader, shinso x gn! reader (separate)

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 3,722

tw: none, wholesome fluff with some swearing on bakugo's section

notes: this had taken a really long time on my original blog, so im happy to finally be able to share it, if you're from my OG blog, and you were waiting, im sorry it took so long! and since I can't get back into my old blog anymore (I lost the password), please resubmit your asks at anytime and ill try to get to them asap!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

~the meeting~

You’re first introduced to Class 1A/1B as a stand-in for a sparring partner in hand-to-hand combat. It was better - in Aizawa’s opinion - for you to brush up on your skills while also putting his students in a more hands-on approach to learning. You stand before the class, ready. 

You challenge whoever is confident with their skills so far to come forward and fight you. Over your shoulder, Aizawa stands huddled in his sleeping bag. He isn’t too worried, he trusts your abilities to handle his class, and besides, you needed to grow to tolerate them quickly.

None of the students wanted to fight you at first.

There was at least one of their close friends that teased them because they had noticed you staring at them out of all the other blue-clad students. So, of course, to avoid further embarrassment, they step forward to be the first example.

The rules are simple. No quirks. Just simple hand-to-hand. The first to pin the opponent for at least half a minute is the winner of the exercise.

I. midoriya 

~ after the meet ~

Izuku really didn’t want to fight you

He didn’t know your strengths, your weaknesses, your quirk, your skill set, how powerful it was versus what it looked like, etc. (cue the nerdy rambling). He had no notes on you!

Izuku had seen you in class every once in a while when he wasn’t busy. You sat by the teacher’s desk grading papers and sometimes assisting Aizawa by running errands or taking over while he took a nap on the floor. But based on your stature and appearance and the fact you were wearing a school uniform, you seemed to be a student as well.

That leads to plenty of interesting theories about you!

“I think they’re a villain!” Kaminari said light-heartedly. It sounded like a rather malicious thing to suggest, Izuku thought, despite his wider grin. “In like… a rehab program or something.”

“Why would they send a villain to a school for a rehab program though?” Iida pulls his drink from his mouth. “It’d be much more likely they be put on community service or in more safe environments.”

Izuku looks across at you.

You’re sitting away from the teachers at the moment, trading notes with a girl in class 2C, laughing as you both scribble away and discuss some class that he can’t quite hear. You wave her off before moving down the table to another group who are slurping ramen over a table full of messy textbooks and broken pens. Izuku knew these kids to cause enough trouble for everyone, but they push aside their bowls and utensils and kick off their bags so they can let you sit with them. 

Hm.

Have you always looked so pretty from this far away?

~ falling in love with you ~

My boy falls hard and fast… save him…

Izuku always pays attention during a class, but he always tries to pay a little more attention when it’s you that’s teaching <3

After assisting Aizawa for a few weeks into the term, Momo asked who you were. In all the “excitement” of having to shephard a class of hormonal superheroes around, you had forgotten to introduce yourself!

He pulls out his hero notebook and begins taking detailed notes on you

[Y/N L/N], your power stats and small doodles of you in the bottom corner. Some more detailed, some awfully sketchy, but he never feels he got it quite right

Aizawa pats your head and dismisses you from your teaching duty for the day

For the rest of the class you resign yourself to your desk and join the students in learning the next emergency protocol

He thinks you might be looking away when he glances at you

Are you looking at him too?

You’ve ruined him, he’d swear on it. He can’t help it, just by looking at you. The swell of your hips when he can see you walking in front or behind him, the way your eyes light up if he even gains the confidence to talk about his hero notebooks with you, the little shocks he gets when your knees touch on the floor of his dorm room. Or maybe he finds you distracting in some way? Your voice drags him from each lecture, even if it’s not aimed at him. Your smile lures him in. He’s sure you have to have a quirk somehow, hidden there that you haven’t told him about yet.

Do you find him as distracting as he finds you?

Among his many nervous habits, a new one is born. What is it? Well, drawing you in his notebook. 

It’s during one of these very creepy-sounding moments that he remembers he never actually asked you what your quirk was. Nor had he seen it in action before

Other people had wondered about it before, but no one had an answer

So he asks you

You laugh.

It’s almost shocked, but partly sad. You tell him, quite simply, that you’re quirkless. And that Aizawa gave you the position in 1A because you were willing to become a teaching assistant on the side. Though you suspect it’s favouritism, he wants you to have a good education, UA is a nice place, he’ll be close by in case any shit goes down. 

If anything Izuku falls even more in love with you. Hearing you ramble with him about your favourite heroes, how you want to be your own hero even if you can’t do the same things as they can, and you’re still here talking to him.

You’re one of the first people he tells about All Might passing on his quirk to him. He’s worried you might be envious of it, or hate him for lying his way into UA, but you beam at him and assure him he’ll be the best Number One Hero you’ve ever seen.

Yeah, he’s definitely fallen a bit harder, if the sweaty palms and nervous heart skip is enough to go off of.

~ fighting for your attention ~

Now imagine this poor, sweet, innocent broccoli-head of a boy finally falling in love with you! He’s smitten with you

But now he’s watching you interact with his classmates interact with you a little more closely

He doesn’t mind of course, he knows everyone loves your personality and just the feeling you give off. It makes them feel warm and safe and you being quirkless limits any sense of a threat to those who are more sceptical

What he doesn’t like is that he knows some of them fancy you

Some of them love you

He begins studying harder, training harder, works out more so he can make sure he can hear your sweet praises and warming smiles

Any “good job!” and “i’m so proud!” you can offer him is cherished. He cherishes you

So he gathers his courage to try harder just for you, so you can think of him as your number one hero!

Now the only question is; do you cherish him?

K. bakugo

~ after the meet ~

An unbridled opportunity to inflict pain on an (admittedly) attractive stranger?

Fuck yeah

Quirk or no quirk, he was going to absolutely destroy you. He was sure of it!

Shitty hair said you looked oddly familiar, but who cares?

Katsuki had seen you around in the dormitory building, of course, he never paid you much attention. You were wearing a uniform, so he guessed you were a student. He thought you were boring. 

Pretty, but boring. 

Not that he was looking, shut up–

Maybe if he kicks your ass a bit he’ll stop getting so distracted

Or…:

Are you fucking kidding?

You kicked his ass! Barely breaking a sweat! 

One minute he’s preparing to just kick you in the gut and land a right hook to your face, but then he steps into the field where white lines have been drawn and you smile at him. You wish him good luck and bow before getting into a fighting stance. 

He draws a blank after that. Sure, he lands the first kick, but gets your thigh instead so you skid across the pitch. Then you effortlessly sidestep his next swing and he just wants to blast your face off in embarrassment.

Then, most painful of all, you punch him right in the gut and kick him until he’s down. 

He’s butt-hurt, as expected and refuses to even look at you.

Shitty hair slaps his shoulder and laughs as he joins the rest of the class. You brush dust off your uniform and prepare to fight Mina next. 

“That was something huh?” Kaminari jests, snickering. “I should’ve gotten that on camera.”

Katsuki decides just then that he’s going to make your life hell for what you’ve done.

~ falling in love with you ~

He’s not falling in love with you, shut up-

Ok so he’s a grouchy boy anyway right so of course he’s not going to admit it as quick as the others 

In fact he makes it a goal in life to annoy you enough until you hate his guts, then he might feel better about wanting to grind your face into the pavement 

He kicks your chair out when you go to sit so you slam into the floor, shut the door to the classroom in your face, shoves you in hallways at every chance he gets, and even becomes so petty he begins stealing your favourite snacks and drinks out of the fridge and cupboards 

Smug bastard even devours them in front of you just so you know that it was him 

He hates them but that doesn’t stop him! 

And - as much as he doesn’t want to admit it - he kinda hates the small flicker of disappointment that flutters behind your eyes before you offer to go on a snack-run for everyone on your way 

Dammit!

He makes it sound like your idea that he stalks alongside you to the grocery store.

“You’d probably get lost if someone wasn’t around to hold your hand,” he’d mock you. If you inquire if he’d hold your hand around the store, he’ll definitely leave you behind. Don’t tempt him. And if you laugh he’ll walk back to the dorms and leave your ass to wonder where he went, searching through aisles for him. He knows you would.

Begrudgingly, he knows somewhere in him won’t let him abandon you there. What part? No idea but he hates it. 

Which is why he is now escorting you on the seventh snack-run of the month. You push the trolley around because even with all your begging he won’t do it. Shopping list in hand you throw in bags of snacks and surprise treats for your classmates.   

You have everything stacked up now. Popcorn for movie nights, and each person’s specific sweets, but instead of heading towards the cashiers, you’re turning towards the scoop-and-weigh section. 

“Oi, dumbass!” Bakugo doesn’t follow after you at first, and he doesn’t care that people are turning to stare at him. “Cash register is that way!”

“I know that.” You smile and disappear behind the aisle. He really has no choice but to drag his feet to follow. When he comes around the side you’re scooping a bag full of honey-roasted almonds - ones he knows you hate but his mouth waters at. 

“What are you getting those for?” He curses how soft his voice is now, but he can’t help but wonder why you’re buying them now.

“They’re your favourite, right?” You respond.

“Yeah?” How did you even know that?

You must be reading his mind with some hidden quirk or something, because you quickly explain that you had questioned Kirishima about the hidden stash in the cupboards one time and he had told you almost immediately. So, why not grab some more when you noticed that his stash was getting low?

Without letting him answer you walk past him to the checkouts. He watches after you, mouth dry. He can’t even think of an insult for you right now.

Fuck!

~ fighting for your attention ~

He still won’t admit it to himself so don’t expect a massive, dramatic confession from him (…yet)

No, he’s willing to fight anyone and everyone who wants your affections from the sidelines 

Someone looks at you a little too long? (Punch them)

Someone touches your shoulder during a PE class? (Make their life hell)

Deku asks for your help on an essay and you respond with an all-sweet smile that just rubs him the wrong way? (Kill him - but not actually)

Jealousy is a dangerous game for Katsuki 

(He’s not jealous don’t even ask—)

He’s willing to completely flip the tables so that maybe you’d notice that something’s different: he doesn’t kick your chair out anymore, or eat your snacks, or try to fight you in the hallways 

Instead he does all of that for pretty much everyone else—with exceptions for Kirishima of course 

Anything so he can deny that he’s gone the slightest bit soft for you when you both sit in the common room and eat your respective snacks, talking about some annoying classmate that had pissed him off for the fourth time that day 

And god dammit, won’t you just notice that he appreciates you? 

S. todoroki

~ after the meet ~

Now, my first question is, is it vague curiosity or a drive to urge his strength forward that makes Shoto fight you?

It’s the strength training, he reasons

He doesn’t need it of course, he’s capable enough, but that doesn’t stop him from arguing with himself that that could be the only reason

And no, it’s definitely not because he can see you giving him a curious look over the heads of his classmates, and certainly, not because Kaminari gives him a knowing grin because even he can see you staring at him

So he puts himself forward as a volunteer

For the training… sure

Even after you lose to Todoroki he’s courteous about it. You both bow out of respect and he rejoins the line. After that he doesn’t expect to see you very much after that, perhaps never again. He thinks, despite the theories, you might be a student-teacher from a different academy.

But no, the next week you show up to their regular classes. And not long after that, you’re both working on group and pair projects together.

Like today, it’s theory. Emergency Evacuation in a Disaster. You pick some form of ‘emergency’ and then plot out an essay with detailed instructions for evacuation for the project. Simple. You pick a disaster and begin the essay.

You ask him questions in between, just general small talk, asking how his day is and the like. But he appreciates it. He knows that you know who he is and yet you just ask him normal questions. (Let’s say this is before his arc to make friends.)

You praise him for his strength in your battle and it makes his heart pound. Is he sick? What does this mean? 

What do you mean when you say you like his company? How does he get you to stop? He doesn’t like not being in control of how his heart is beating.

~ falling in love with you ~

I don’t think that originally it would be obvious to you that he fancies you

He’d be courteous at first, hold the door for you, compliment things about you, pull out your chair or save you a seat at lunch, it’s simple little things

You don’t notice of course, you just think he’s being nice

But to literally everyone else, it’s so obvious to them that he’s already completely smitten with you. He barely talks to anyone else… and yeah he doesn’t talk much with you either but he tolerates your company more than others

And he’s a gentleman so why would he outright say anything?

(That’s the reason and not that he’s afraid to, yeah totally-)

So instead he sits and listens to your conversations 

It’s not your fault he’s having a bad day, but at the moment he’s giving the cold shoulder to everyone in 1-A. 

That doesn’t stop you from dragging your chair up to his small desk during your break and eating there with him. He doesn’t tell you to leave, because he doesn’t think he can. He just watches you pull out utensils and begin to eat. He hasn’t even bothered with his own food, he can feel a pit swallowing his stomach, like he couldn’t cram anything in there if he wanted to.

“Bad day?” you ask, like you couldn’t already tell. “Don’t wanna talk about it?”

He nods at you. He can’t lie. And he sure as hell can’t ignore you.

“I understand,” you give a thoughtful hum, eating a bite of your food. “My day was pretty crappy too. It gets like that sometimes, you just gotta keep going. You can’t stop living just because your head’s a bit heavy.”

He didn’t ask for your advice, and maybe before that would’ve bothered him that you didn’t stop talking, but now he can’t find it in him to be frustrated. His annoyance deflates at your presence. You radiate this homely comfort he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Shoto goes through the effort of pulling out his food, just so you might feel better about it.

He forces out the words;

“And your day? Tell me about it… please.”

~ fighting for your attention ~

Now shoto is less likely to actually try and confront others about their shared affections

In fact in normally takes him a good while to officially realise that he loves you

But pretty soon he just begins to seek you out more

As he grows more social, earns new friends and becomes accustomed to everyone, you work with him closely to help him learn social cues and overcome his trauma

He comes to like touching you, whether it be a hand on his head, touching knees in the dorms, a simple hug, or you leaning on him until you fall asleep on him during the winter. He feels comfortable with you

But with this realisation comes one more;

He wonders if he could handle going back to living without you

H. shinso

~ after the meet ~

Now, shinso’s quirk is pretty hard to implement in a fight, which is why he mainly prefers hand-to-hand

Overall, he feels tired, if not a little bored, by the spar with you

He hadn’t noticed you at all before this lesson in 1C, but his teacher had said that you were helping by moving down from 1A

Why, he couldnt figure out

But nonetheless, he finds you watching him while waiting to spar you in your first physical education class together, so he volunteers

And he quickly gets disqualified– 

He swears he doesn’t mean to, but almost as soon as he begins the fight, you overwhelm him.

What you lack in a visible quirk, you make up for in speed, kicking and jabbing and ducking away before he can get a hit in. It’s when he finds you hovering over his shoulder, about to throw a punch to his face, that he panics and asks for your name.

A bit confused, slowing down a little bit, you give it to him, and almost as quickly, you’re under his control. The teacher immediately barks at him to release his control, and he obliges, but he’s still disqualified and you’re given an instant win. When you stumble, regaining your own self-control, you look up at him in bemusement. 

But you don’t look scared at all, instead you smile at him.

“Brainwashing? That’s a pretty cool quirk, huh?”

You confuse him, and he’s not sure if he likes it yet. 

~ falling in love with you ~

After you move down to 1C to work on your General Hero courses, you begin to grow closer with Shinso 

You don’t think that his quirk is any different to the others at UA, which he is somewhat confused by

‘Some of these guys can set people on fire! Brainwashing doesn’t sound too different to the others you see here’, was your only explanation whenever he asked about it

Overtime, you become one of his only friends in 1C, he tolerates you

He spends most of his time with you, studying, eating, talking, he helps you write papers on general hero practices, telling you about his history with children being scared of his ‘villain quirk’

All things considered, he trusts you, and i dont think he could say that for many other people at UA

You both sit cross-legged on the floor of his dorm room. He very rarely decorates it, but you begged him to let you set up the fairy lights and little cat decals that were meant for his wall. Begrudgingly, he agreed.

So that’s what you’ve been doing, arranging kitties on the wall over his desk. Cute little art pieces that resemble grey and calico cats. 

Meanwhile, he’s studying on his floor, laying back and occasionally sneaking glances at you to see if you’re tangled in the lights. Soon enough you have them strung up nicely in the corners of his dorm-room, sending soft gold light over his purple hair. He doesn’t move until you lay on the floor beside him, looking up at the ceiling.

“What do you think?” you ask, leaning up on your elbows to admire your handiwork.

He’s quiet for a moment, just looking at you, taking in the view of your side-profile. 

“They look nice.”

Shinso isn’t talking about the lights.

~ fighting for your attention ~

Listen, usually Shinso absolutely hates using his quirk for anything out of villain fights, because if he does he feels like he reinforces the idea that he might be a villain too

But, when it comes to you?

He’s relatively tame at first, he doesnt get too jealous or overprotective as someone else might (cough, bakugo, cough), but it doesnt mean that he doesnt need reassurance sometimes

If it gets to the point that another one of your suitors is making you uncomfortable, then by all means, hes asking them what theyre doing and forcing them to walk away

And afterwards, having that little moment of supposed villainy feels worth it

Just keep smiling at him

im sorry this took so long!

I hope you guys enjoyed

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #mha x reader #midoriya #izuku #iida #uraraka #tenya #ochako #kirishima #denki #kaminari #hero #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #detroit smash #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #gender neutral reader #wholesome #bnha fluff #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #izuku midoriya

[invidiia]

Hello! 🙃 Do you mind if I request a platonic yandere Dazai with a reader who used to be his subordinate in the port mafia but then they cross paths on a mission?

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ "i watch the rising sun!" 𖤐 p!yandere dazai // reader.

platonic yandere dazai meets his old subordinate.

m.list // now playing..

[ a/n ; THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! if something doesn't make sense, please god just ignore it because it's 2am, i'm dehydrated, half asleep, and i really need to continue writing on this blog. ]

[ warning ; platonic yandere, dazai himself needs a warning, mentions of abuse (not towards reader), mentions of the abuse cycle, user is about 18, mori is present, there's literally more backstory/explanation to this than the actual point, im sobbin ]

It was years since Dazai left the Port Mafia.

You were his other subordinate, besides Akutagawa. The ways he treated you both were entirely different - it usually ended in you being forced to watch Dazai 'train' Akutagawa, while he later patted your head, praising you for being good, which was standing by his side and watching as he mistreated others. Of course, after that, you would treat any of Akutagawa's wounds. Dazai treated you so well because you were like him, but why didn't he treat Akutagawa the same? You never understood.

Dazai spoke to you once before leaving - ordering you to stay put. He even injured you, breaking a few of your fingers and telling you to say you had gotten into a fight before he left, so you wouldn't be suspected in aiding his treason.

While you were glad that Akutagawa would no longer have to suffer by his hands - you were somewhat upset by him leaving. While some of the others were fine with comforting you, it wasn't the same as when Dazai did it. You couldn't help but miss the times he would praise you and pat your head for doing well.

But over time, you changed. You'd learned how to cope a much better way, and instead of wanting his praise and affection, you grew colder to anyone who tried showing you any kind of love. When others in the mafia tried to comfort you over him leaving, they'd watch as you became cold to them, not letting yourself be vulnerable to anybody anymore. Akutagawa had also changed - however, he was.. worse. The abuse cycle that had started from Mori had yet to break.

It was about a month after Kyouka had been taken in by the Armed Detective Agency. Mori never told you much about the agency, nothing about who was in it aside from Fukuzawa, Yosano, Atsushi, and Kyouka, and that they were different in many obvious ways, but had a form of alliance to defeat the Guild, none of which you'd been involved in. Everyone else was a mystery to you, since you were never given jobs involved with the agency anyway.

It came to your surprise when Mori presented you with a brand new mission of sort, to go with him while meeting with the leader of the Agency. That was unusual - usually Chuuya or Akutagawa did jobs like this, or when you were given one, they took it anyway, just to 'be nice to you'.

But Mori insisted you go, even though he gave you a choice to give it to Chuuya, Akutagawa, or anyone else. Even Chuuya suggested he take the job, not explaining himself, just insisting you let him take it. But this time was different - you were offered this, given an actual chance to be involved with the agency's dealings with the Port Mafia, something you were never given.

Of course you took the job.

You trailed closely behind Mori, following him loyally as you two had walked to the meeting place. If it was held in secret, then why the hell was it outside, anyway?

"[Name]," Mori called to you, turning to meet your eyes. He continued speaking after he knew you were listening. "Fukuzawa-san brought another of his own for the same reason I am bringing you. Just a heads up," Mori cheerfully spoke. Why didn't he tell you beforehand? It didn't matter now, though.

Both you and Mori approached the place to meet with the leader. You could see there was another person with Fukuzawa, but you stood behind Mori, and their upper half had been blocked out. No big deal.

You stepped out from behind your boss, arms crossed above your chest as you eyed the leader of the agency. He looked so kind, a part of you wondered what it'd be like if you were with the agency instead.

But Fukuzawa wasn't the only person you saw.

Standing close behind him was a tall man with dark, wavy chestnut hair, in a long, tan trench coat. He wasn't just any man. That was the familiar face of Osamu Dazai. The youngest executive in the history of the Port Mafia.

And you were his ex-subordinate, right there in front of both. Both of your eyes widened, but you were much more surprised to see Dazai than he was to see you, Like he expected this.

You barely listened to the conversation between Fukuzawa and Mori, only making out a few words - 'Guild', Defeat', 'Fitzgerald', 'Agency', and 'Mafia'. None of them mattered to you as much as they should have. Your eyes flickered between the pavement and Dazai, who stared at you intently, not bothering to hide it. He had an expression that you just couldn't read precisely - it was impossible to tell what he was thinking in the moment. You on the other hand? Your thoughts were clear, a beyond frustrated glare was evident on your face.

It felt like an hour standing there, listening to Mori and Fukuzawa talk, if you could even say you were listening. But it was over only twenty minutes later.

Mori smiled at Fukuzawa, while the other just nodded calmly. Your boss began to walk forward, looking at you to signal you were to walk with him. Fukuzawa and Dazai did the same.

However, when you and Dazai were next to each other, he stopped, turning to look at you. Out of curiosity, you sighed and looked up at him. His eyes were not kind, but a slight smile was etched onto his face. A bandaged hand took your shoulder, and Dazai spoke to you for the first time in years.

"My, how you've grown." Verbal surprise was clear in his voice. Dazai was about to speak again, but you cut him off before he could get a word out. "Don't fucking touch me." The taller brunette sighed, turning his full body towards you this time, not just his head.

He smiled at you, closing his eyes. "You've changed so much. We'll meet again, I'll make sure of it." After finishing his sentence, he began to catch up with Fukuzawa. You stood there, looking at Dazai as he walked off calmly.

While you were upset about how he left you, it wasn't your main concern. Was he not sorry about the way he treated Akutagawa, making you watch as he made him suffer for so long?

Part of you wanted to run after him and punch him, but it wasn't worth it, not now. Even so, the thought seeing him was upsetting, and meeting him again wasn't in your best interest.

[ extra // i'll do a part two sometime later.. it's 3:51am rn lmao km sobingmgkgkgm ]

#dazai x reader #platonic yandere dazai #yandere dazai x reader #bsd x reader #yandere bsd #platonic yandere #klya..anon #yandere dazai osamu #osamu dazai x reader #yandere dazai #yandere osamu dazai #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd x reader

[ohnococo]

Fight Night: Recovery | MMA!Fighter Sukuna x F!Reader

You return home in the early hours of the morning after your celebratory night out with Sukuna. You clean each other up, as promised, and things get steamy.

✧ Notes: Hello! I’m back with more of these two. If you haven’t read my series Fight Night, please do or Sukuna may seem unusually soft here. If you have, welcome back! Anything I post for this series will be less structured, just little moments in the lives of Sukuna and reader.

✧ Warnings: Fem bodied reader, implied drinking/partying, showering, very light body worship, bathing each other, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, explicit mention of old cum being cleaned

Fight Night Masterlist

You awaken to the feel of Sukuna’s arms sliding beneath you, lifting you from where he’d deposited you on his bed. He squeezes at your upper arms, encouraging you to hang onto him as he carries you to the bathroom. It’s a difficult task, with how your body feels as though it may as well be boneless at this point, but you manage.

“Took you long enough.”

“And how long did it take me?”

You don’t have to peel open your heavy lids to know he’s smirking, knowing full well you have no clue since you were out the second your body hit the bed. In lieu of the response he wasn’t really asking for, you wrap your arms tighter around his neck, keeping yourself pressed tightly to his bare chest before he sets you down onto the closed toilet. Once he has a hand wrapped around your ankle, you find it in you to open your eyes, if only to take in the sight of Sukuna kneeling in front of you as he pulls off your shoe and tosses it aside.

“Gentle, please.”

The look he gives you threatens to inspire something in your worn out body, brows raised as if his eyes alone were telling you off for daring to boss him around. It doesn’t stop him from removing the other shoe and setting it down slightly more gently, though.

He stands and begins unbuckling his belt, followed by undoing his trousers, and you finally notice that the sound of running water is coming from the shower instead of the bathtub as you’d been expecting.

“I thought you were going to run a bath.”

He shakes his head dismissively, pushing his trousers and boxer briefs down in one go and kicking them off, “I’m too tired for all of that.”

The corners of your mouth curl upward, like he’d admitted some well kept secret with that small statement. “So you do get tired.”

“Sometimes.” It’s said simply, a thin veil of a response over the reminder that he would always keep you on your toes when it came to these things.

You lift your arms, looking up at Sukuna through your lashes and doing a little expectant wiggle.

“I’ve got to do everything, hm?”

“You promised to clean me up.”

He tilts his head and lets out a little huff, “Fair enough.”

And that’s that, as he tugs the bottom of your dress up your thighs and over your ass. It’s a job made easy by how stretched out the thick blue fabric had become over the course of the night from all the times it had been hiked up to give Sukuna the access you rarely denied him. You decide to aid him slightly, undoing the buttons at the back of your neck before stretching your arms back into the air. He pulls it over your head and off, tossing it aside with the rest of the removed clothing. Getting you naked is quick work, given how the low back of the dress had left you unable to wear a bra in the first place, and your panties had been discarded before you’d even reached the halfway point of the night.

His arms settle back onto your waist, helping you lift yourself onto your feet, and they keep their place loosely - even as you turn and take heavy steps to the shower while he follows. You can tell from his hovering hands that he half-expects you to slip or stumble with how barely-coherent you’d been earlier, but you find the little nap you’d gotten on the way home and then on his bed was enough to give you somewhat of a second wind. Still, you enjoy having his hands so near, ready to keep you steady should you need it.

You settle yourself with your back to the spray of water, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your face to his chest. “Wash my hair?”

He doesn’t answer outright, instead leaning down to grab something among the products that had accumulated in the corner of his shower over the last several weeks. Your head goes with his gentle movement, not wanting to leave its comfortable spot against his firm chest, and when he straightens with shampoo in hand he sets it on the higher tiled shelf with his own products so it’s within easy reach.

As he backs you further into the falling water, you don’t expect much, but Sukuna exceeds those expectations with how gentle he is as his fingers smooth over your hair. He dips his fingertips into the thick of it, shaking lightly to make sure it’s wet all the way through before he’s picking the bottle of shampoo up again.

Were you slightly more coherent, you’d notice how his motions mimic your own from the times the two of you had showered together since you began occupying more and more of his space. Times when Sukuna quietly enjoyed your proximity, washing off sweat formed from nights spent much more sober, and much less clothed than this one had been. Though now you were drinking and fucking and dancing your way through the city just like you once had, and it left you both with a much bigger mess to clean.

Once he’s got shampoo in your hair, followed by his fingertips at your scalp making firm circles, you lean your head back into his hands, letting him cradle your head as he works. You let out a small groan and his warm breath hits your face as you open your eyes and see the look he’s giving you.

“Don’t make noises like that if you don’t want to get fucked.”

You laugh, squeezing his waist tighter with your arms, “I’m too sore.”

“Hasn’t stopped us before.”

“And I’m tired. I thought you were too?”

He dips his head down, water hitting his own hair and making you close your eyes as it cascades off of him and onto your face. His nose brushes yours as his mouth hovers close, already open and waiting for you to do the same, and once your lips are parted he speaks low into your mouth, making you listen before you have his kiss.

“It’d take a lot more than a night out to have me too tired for that.”

It has you smiling as his lips meet yours and you taste remnants of the night on his tongue. It’s enough to have you questioning whether you could possibly handle his cock one more time, but that dull sting below as his kiss has you clenching reminds you that the two of you aren’t in nearly the rush you had been during your first times partying. So you pull back, pressing your forehead to his mouth when he tries to lean in for more, and he’s satisfied to place a final kiss there before he returns to washing your hair.

He takes more care than you had anticipated, even once you melt into him further, forehead resting on his chest as he does a surprisingly thorough job. Then he’s removing his fingertips, closing his large hands from your temples to the top of your head in a makeshift headband as he tilts you back into the spray. He runs them back over your head, effectively wringing out anything left with the help of the warm water. He repeats this again, until your head is bobbing and he gathers all of your hair into a sort of ponytail, squeezing lightly as he presses a kiss to your chin.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

Despite the warning in his voice it just makes you chuckle, thoughts half-formed as his touch makes you feel more and less drunk at the same time. “I’m not gonna fall asleep standing, I’m not a horse.”

He lets out a little breath through his nose at that, but moves on otherwise with a hint of something to gnaw on in his voice, “Should I expect you to reciprocate?”

You laugh, leaning your head forward, pulling your hair out of his loosened grasp and returning your forehead to its now-familiar place against his chest. “Do you have a stepladder for that?”

He sighs, able to feign annoyance despite the apparent tiredness he’d mentioned earlier, the very tiredness you were still dubious of as you open your eyes and look down to see his heavy cock stirring with interest. “The rest of me, then.”

“That, I can manage.”

Despite your words you take your time moving from your comfortable spot, bracing yourself to be out of the reach of the warm water. Once you’re ready you tug at Sukuna’s waist, trying to move him into position, and he lets you - smile on his face at your attempts. The water only reaches his shoulders, travelling down in small streams that twist and wind along his muscle and drip off loudly to the tiles below.

You reach for his shelf and gather soap in your palm, lathering it up, and then letting it aid in slipping your hands across his neck and shoulders. With your mind set on not pushing your body too far, and on passing out as soon as possible, you try your very best to ignore the girth stirring in front of you. Sukuna knows very well what thoughts are going through your mind, and smiles as he finally releases you from his hungry gaze, busying himself with washing his own hair as you continue rubbing along his abs and down to his hips.

Your fingers work carefully through the thick hair at the base of his cock, well-dirtied with both your messes through the night, until the water rinses it clean. A glance up at him reveals him watching you again, this time with curiosity in his soft smile, to see if you’ll leave any of him ignored in an attempt to calm the beast hanging hard and heavy with water finding its own path off each of the silver beads along the underside of his cock. You slide your fingers around it entirely, working soap into the hair of his balls, delving into the space between his thighs as well. He chuckles above, drawing your eyes back up to him for a moment, then as you look back down at your task he closes his eyes and tilts his head back to rinse his hair out.

Even with his hair rinsed clean, he leaves his eyes closed and his head back, sighing when your hands slide around his hips and away from his cock as you lather up what you can reach of his back. You make your way lower, accompanied by soft suds, until you’re squeezing and rubbing at his ass.

Sukuna dips his head down to speak into your ear, sending droplets from his hair and onto your face. “I thought we were past you being frightened of it.”

“Oh, please.” You crane your neck back, separating your bodies enough for him to be sure to see the look you were giving him, squeezing his butt hard to emphasise that you were absolutely not afraid of any part of him. “I’m not scared of that thing.”

“This thing?” His smile widens enough that his eyes crinkle shut.

“Yeah.” Your smile back is as playful as you can manage with you using the last of your focus to wash him, and you offer his ass a little spank and spread his cheeks lightly as you squeeze again, a move similar to one he’d done to you many times before. “That thing.”

He closes that small distance again, tracing his tongue along the shell of your ear before whispering, “It won’t hurt you.”

“It already has.”

He leans back, a small hint of a question in his eyes that you don’t need him to ask.

“But not in a way I can’t handle.”

“Of course.” He turns around then, rinsing remnants of soap off before cleaning his cock himself while you busy yourself with washing his back more thoroughly, then his legs.

You half expect him to keep stroking himself as you bend down, rubbing at his thick muscled thighs, but he releases himself and settles his hands at his sides, stretching his neck out and enjoying the feel of your hands on him.

When you stand he’s sighing as though he’d managed to get some rest in that time, turning back to you.

“I suppose it’s your turn then?”

He brings you back under the shower head, turning you around to face the spray head on and settling his hands on your hips as he speaks low into your ear. “You’ll have to handle washing your face. I don’t think I’m quite delicate enough for that.”

You lean back against his chest, sighing at the sound of his voice in your ear. “Ryomen The King Sukuna, underestimating himself? What have I done to you?”

“What have you done, indeed.” He presses his hips forward, letting you feel his hardness against your ass, though your attention is quickly drawn to the face wash he reaches around you to place in your hand.

You take it, squeezing it into your hand and busying yourself with removing what remains of your makeup as Sukuna runs his hands over your body, lathering you up. He makes no attempt to hide how he squeezes and gropes at every part of you that he touches, quite clearly feeling you up even as he cleans the sweat and cum and sticky residue of spilled drinks off of your naked body. He catches your nipples between thick knuckles, grips at your hips and stomach, presses kisses and gentle bites down your back and to your ass as he kneels to wash your legs, only incidentally cleaning you as he indulges himself before standing to finish his work.

With your face cleaned, you lie your head back onto his chest, enjoying this feel of his hands as he rinses you clean. Once he’s kneading at your thighs, slowly making his way closer and closer to your pussy, you can practically feel his gaze down at you. You know too well that he’s waiting for the smallest word or reaction to tell him to make his touch much more targeted - as if he hadn’t been working you up from the moment you’d stepped into the shower.

His fingers finally closing in to run over your pussy send a shudder through you, and when he brings a splash of water up to aid in cleaning your sticky folds you let out a laugh, head lolling against his chest. “Now you get to see how annoying it is to clean all of that cum out of me.”

His other arm comes down to hook under your knee, lifting your leg and keeping you spread for him to dip his fingers into your entrance as you melt into his embrace.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult.” He wriggles his fingers inside of you, chuckling as you gasp, “I can go much deeper than you.”

He’s right, pulling his long fingers out and rinsing them under the water before he’s sliding them back into your depths, loosening and coaxing out any cum that hadn’t made its way down your thighs through the night. He cleans you out thoroughly but, just as expected, doesn’t stop there - movements becoming a little faster and finding their rhythm until your pussy is making sticky sounds loud enough to be heard over the spray of the shower.

You reach back to tangle a hand into his hair as he starts kissing lightly along your neck, laughing when you start rocking your hips into the gentle thrusts of his fingers.

“What was that about being too sore?”

He laughs at whatever combination of a huff and a moan that you let out, and tenses enough to have his cock prodding at your ass in a reminder that he was never quite done. This time your huff is more pronounced, giving him a taste of the internal debate you were having between how much you wanted and how much you could handle, until you’re left compromising with your own body.

“Just the tip.”

The laugh this draws from him is much more lively. “Just the tip?”

“I mean it, Sukuna.”

“If that’s what you want…”

He pulls his fingers from your pussy, letting your leg down and turning you to face him before he’s lifting it again and settling it against his hip. He traps it in place with one arm as he reaches down to line himself up, wrapping the other arm around you to help you stay up even with as tired as your body was.

Even with just the promised hint of length from him, you feel that sting, but once he’s sliding that fat tip against your spongy walls the pleasure overcomes the pain. You press your face to his chest, squeezing at his pecs and kissing the wet skin as he groans above you.

The way he’s crouched to line up your disparate heights has his muscles tensing and flexing and as he angles himself perfectly you have to concentrate hard to enjoy the view of him instead of letting your eyes roll back with the heat prickling right down to your curling toes.

You tilt your head up until your lips meet his and his breath is hot in your mouth, words mingling with your soft moans, “Just the tip?”

You can’t blame him for pressing, with the way your pussy was practically sucking at his tip as you clench and squirm on it. Still, you know your limits, including which ones you are and aren’t willing to push past, so you nod and he pulls your arms from around his body to guide your hands to his ignored length. You wrap your hands around it, giving him something more to fuck into as your heat takes him in again and again. It earns you a string of appreciative moans that you return enthusiastically, licking into his mouth to have more of what you can from him.

“Fuck, Sukuna…” You pull back to press your head to his chest, eyes screwed shut as you rock your hips into his careful movements. You loosen your grip on his length, taking just a little bit more of him in as your thighs tense and shake.

With his hands too busy holding you up, he has to nuzzle at the top of your head to get your attention, insisting that he get to watch you cum on his cock. You know that it’s what he needs, tilting your head back and locking eyes with him as he brings his mouth to yours, drinking in your moans and meeting them with low groans as he waits for that telltale clenching on his tip.

He isn’t waiting long as you let go of his cock, crying out into his mouth as you grip at his ass and pull him all the way into your heat, until your hips are flush against his. It takes him by surprise and flings him towards his end, as he lets out a broken moan, pressing deep into you as your pussy clenches and milks his cock of all he has left to give. He stills his hips as you rock against him, riding out the last of your orgasm in his arms, until his cum is sliding out around him and spattering onto the tile below while he kisses at your slackened jaw.

Your arms find their way back around his torso as you pull yourself to his chest yet again, panting against his wet skin as you shudder softly. He pulls out slowly, letting your leg down but keeping your tired body held firmly to him.

“Let’s go to bed.”

“Hm?” He cranes his neck to look at your face, pressed so closely to him that only half of it is left visible, “You’ve got a new mess to clean now.”

“Nuh uh… tomorrow…”

While he’s technically right, and while it technically already is tomorrow, your orgasm has taken everything you had left and you know you’re veering ever so close to actually passing out if you don’t lie down soon.

Sukuna doesn’t need convincing to have his cum left inside of you, though, and he reaches behind you to turn off the shower. You feel yourself drifting off already as he wraps a towel around you, and you’re out completely once he lifts you up and carries you to bed.

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #mma!sukuna #mma fighter!sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #x reader #reader insert #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #my writing

[quinn-pop]

let’s do some autistic meta knight headcanons!! over explaining my interpretation of meta knight yet again wooooo

this orb has NO idea how to talk to people!!! outside of work anyway. a lot of this is partially due to upbringing (suppressing his emotions all the time) but he does not know how to express emotions, like…at all.

this goes into a few things

1. yeah talking is hard. even after figuring out what he wants to communicate he will struggle. conversation can be so overwhelming, especially under pressure. he will need time lol

2. because of that, forming connections is hard. i really don’t think meta is much for shallow relationships, and certainly not early in the timeline. which also means he has very little experience with friendship. so a lot of the relationships he did have went kinda neglected, and issues that probably could’ve been worked on by talking became…*cough romk* escalated.

3. honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if meta convinced himself he couldn’t feel emotion (anymore) until like. katam-ish. he tried very hard lol

vulnerability is terrifying. (though this gesture here is also just comforting, like his little cape cocoon thing he does.)

unmasking—yeah im taking the mask thing very literally here—is a big deal and a very slow process for mk. i’m sure he has a lot of feelings on that lol. it served as a way to ensure no one could ever, y’know, see him.

i can’t say i think he’d ever fully ditch it—there’s always gonna be some days that are more stressful than others and if having it could help him get through it, it just makes sense. mainly when working.

it really is about vulnerability. granted, i don’t think he has the most expressive face (in my head every astral just tends to stare at things) but i doubt he has much control over it. can’t fake a smile but also can’t hide it. probably blushes easy because yeah, astrals; just look at kirby’s face.

just the idea that someone might be able to read his expression and know what he’s feeling before he’s ready for them to (or even understands it himself…) yeah he doesn’t want that

but emotional turmoil aside, i think his mask also hides a lot of his stims

remember that whole “suppressing your feelings” thing? yeah turns out that ignoring half your instincts isn’t a good idea. so in true meta knight style, he tries to stim as subtly as possible

1. he has the least control over his wings, so they will flick and twitch on their own. they’re usually a good indicator of how he’s feeling, not unlike the body language usually seen in cat ears and tails lol. flapping is also an extension of this of course, though he probably suppresses it more.

2. this also effects when he takes his wings out. pretty much every time he’s excited or nervous it just happens. kinda makes me wonder if his wing cape ordeal might also go into the suppression thing… (i’d say yes, but using a cape is also very comforting so it’s not necessarily a bad thing)

3. going back to the mask thing; he stims a lot underneath it. think like biting or pursing your lips. he bites his tongue and clicks his mouth. that sort of thing. his mask also makes it harder to notice that he is constantly sighing, humming, grumbling…all that

one nice thing about the mask though is that it helps a little bit with lights!!! woo

(look at him and his magically floating glasses)

sensory stuff—i think he’s mostly bothered by light and sound. maybe a bit of texture. he’s pretty sensory avoidant and perfectly happy standing off to the side not touching anything.

the one exception to this is physical affection, which is, despite all of this, most of how he shows affection. it’s a lot easier to hug someone than to try to explain your feelings for them, after all.

i think he would like pressure though. so that’s probably part of it. and i’m pretty sure there’s some connection in here to fighting (dang, is that the only way he knows how to get his energy out?)

anyway, pretty much all of this is in contrast to kirby, who i would gladly nominate as the champion of Doing Whatever He Wants. he might pick up a few bad habits, but he will never mask the way meta knight does. he might not understand how he feels, but he’s in tune enough to express it…usually.

this is a very good thing for meta because it helps him to do the same thing. kirby’s so energetic, it’s hard to not want to stim with him. it reminds meta to be kinder to himself and explore his own emotions. he can also help kirby understand themselves, so this connection is very important.

yeah, at the end of the day, everything kinda just boils down to kirby and mk as parallels

this is the conclusion i promise

to me, meta’s arc is about growing stronger by growing kinder, and this is mostly by learning to be kind to himself. letting himself be a person again, loving and understanding other people, and eventually, letting go of all the expectations placed on him and doing the things he’s always wanted to do…

autism headcanons are fun for me because it’s cathartic to write, but at the same time, it just makes sense in this sort of narrative. meta is, to me, inseparable from these things. and so is kirby! that’s a dynamic that’s a lot of fun to play with, and it’s at the heart of my kirby interpretation.

if you actually read all this WOW thank you

#i almost considered not posting this on a wednesday but then i wrote everything and uhhh yeah i think i gotta so #happy cringe day wednesday #for as many notes as i have on these characters i really don’t talk about it much #but meta knight is a special case because i am terrible at subtlety and he wouldn’t be meta knight without it #so this is to contextualize some things #because of what ill have in the next few days haha #basically these are just things i consider when writing meta #but a lot of it is subtextual and i dont know how well it comes across #kirbyposting #kirby #meta knight #headcanons #autism headcanon #this is practically an essay lol oops #i have like 2/3 of a fic that explores most of this in a way i probably won’t do again #but we’ll see if i ever finish it #god kirby concepts are so fun to chew on #i overthink everything i make so much lol

[aryxchse]

No cause now I need more. Like I don't know headcannons or something about how they got together and how their parents reacted.

LIKR IMAGINE THE FAMILY GATHERINGS!SGAHSJSKSN

Something- anything please I am begging😭

percy jackson x daughter of amphitrite! reader headcanons.

a / n : feeding my inner self ship here LMAO and also this is literally headcanons that made up from my ass, so idk if amphitrite would have a cabin, because they didn't make one even for her honor sooo.. yeah

warnings : cursing, fighting, blood mention, injury mention, basically just two waterbenders in love

- it was all camp half blood's fault

- you didn't had a cabin of your own, but they thought you staying in the poseidon cabin was the best decision

- well it was.. until percy got claimed

- you both had to share the same cabin, and he wasn't the best at keeping it clean

- all those years, getting a 10 from the cabin check, you got 5 because of him

- and it made you furious

- but, a nice girl you are, instead of breaking his heart, you warned him

- "next time we get a 5 from the cabin check, i will break your surfboard into pieces 😊"

- "yes ma'am 🫡" no ofc he didn't said that

- but he thought that as he nervously shake his head

- well, he didn't really had a time to clean his cabin, so the promise was forgotton

- and you learned to pick up after his back

- it was a beautiful afternoon when annabeth barged into your cabin

- "percy's in a fight and we can't stop him."

- these are the questions that you should've asked when she said that : what's that have to do with me? what am i even gonna do? why are you coming to me? what the fu-

- but what you did instead : run to percy

- alright, i guess you two have a bond now

- "alright seaweed brain, get your ass back up," you said as you yanked grabbed him by the arm and pushing him aside

- he tried to run to the boy he was beating back again, but you just pushed him by his chest and slowly lead him to your cabin

- "dude what the hell is going on with you?" you asked as you both enter. he was panting, sitting on his bed and holding his head. "percy? i asked you a question."

- "he was saying something shitty about you, and i couldn't just stand there and listen him. okay?" he said, not facing you.

- oh

- ooohhhhhh

- 😏

- "why though?" you sat next to him on the bed, too suprised to even get mad at him

- "you always got my back in cabin check so, i got your back outside, i guess." he simply shrugged

- alright mr in love

- and with that, you both got really close

- this was your breaking point in 'awkward energy'

- surfing competitions where it's just you two racing? check

- married dolphin and shark plushies? check

- going to an aquarium? double check

- the animals were once your enemy back then because of your mother, was your friends now

- same as percy

- and when you both started dating, percy realised how relaxed he was around you

- like when he was little, he would listen to ocean sounds to calm himself down after a stressful day

- and you have the same affect on him

- later he learned that children of amphitrite have that affect on children of poseidon and that's why annabeth bringed you that day

- talking of the parents

- the meeting was the most hilarious thing happened to you both

- because they already knew

- one time. ONE TIME YOU KISSED PERCY UNDERWATER AND THE FUCKING FISH WERE ALREADY EVERYWHERE-

- "ohh lord perseus and princess y/n"

- "ohh they're kissing"

- and suprisingly gossip spreads around ocean VERY FAST

- you both got a call from atlantic or smth to get there fast

- they weren't angry or anything, poseidon loved you and weirdly your mom loved percy

- they were just.. suprised

- "what type of history shit is going on here-"

- "POSEIDON."

- you understand where percy got his humor from now

- alright moving on to real parent SALLY MF JACKSON!!

- you think you being her ex's wife's daughter will make her hate you?

- well yeah, but sally jackson is the definition of angel

- and she doesn't care about your godly side as long as you're making percy happy by just being in his life

- so as you can say, you guys are already besties

- moving on again to u and percy

- underwater kisses duh

- silly blue shirts about fishes

- watching ariel, moana, lost fish nemo and dory and all of the sea shit together

- and recreating the musical scenes

- you having a signature pegasus friend like him

- and him having a dolphin one like you

- you guys just rule the lake atp

- living in the same cabin is the best thing ever happened to percy

- because he get to cuddle you EVERY NIGHT without having to worry about getting caught

- and tyson? basically your children

- seashell jewelry gifts from percy

- always wearing blue together

- also eating blue food

- this fic is really long rn but you both are yue and sokka tbh

- give yue one more chance!!

#and give amphitrite and hera a chance!! #perseus jackson x you #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy x you #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson headcanon #pjo show #pjo tv show

[ruified]

❝ home 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 ˎˊ˗

warnings: fluff, slight implied angst for oda (IM SORRY 😭), gn! reader . characters: dazai, kunikida, and oda . synopsis: your lover comes home late to find you sleeping already . a/n: this is the first time i’ve written something like this for oda which is surprising bc i love him sm 🫶 .

DAZAI fumbled with his keys outside the door to the apartment before finally getting to the right key. He unlocked the door and swung it open dramatically. “Honey, I’m home!” He sang out, expecting that you would call back to him, but he heard nothing.

He blinked away his confusion and looked around the living room from the door, nothing looked oddly out of place or suspicious aside from your absence. He quietly hung up his coat and removed his shoes before he walked inside. He swiftly made his way to the bedroom and opened the door, making not a sound. To his pleasure, he found you sprawled out across the bed, phone still in your hand, mouth slightly ajar.

Dazai came to stand beside the bed and leaned over you, he pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead which caused you to stir. You hummed drowsily and opened your eyes about halfway, just enough to see your lover staring down at you. You were far too tired to even attempt to fight back the smile that pulled up your lips when you saw him.

“Is that prince charming coming to wake me from my slumber?” You mumbled and reached out towards him, your hand cupped his cheek gently. He chuckled quietly and shook his head. “I suppose that would mean I’m your true love or something like that, right?” You nodded with a blissful smile, your hand slid down his arm to meet his hand, interlocking your fingers. “Mm… yeah, it would, I’m so lucky…”

Slowly, you tugged him towards the bed, not too forcefully though. When he didn’t come closer, you groaned in protest, causing him to laugh once again. “I have to get changed before I come to bed with you. I really can’t sleep in my work clothes.” He explained in a gentle tone, resting his palm on your forehead. His entire demeanor was soft and warm, it was hard to tell if maybe it seemed this way because you were still half asleep anyways.

“You gotta come to bed soon…” You mumbled at him. Dazai nodded. “I will, my dear, just wait for me here.”

KUNIKIDA came home looking stressed and exhausted. He set his things down halfheartedly and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. After recollecting himself, he scanned the living room and registered your absence. He made his way to the bedroom and entered, finding you tucked into bed already. He couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful you looked. He turned on one of the bedside lamps and sat on the edge of the bed, beginning to undress himself to change into his sleepwear.

Feeling something weigh down the bed, you began to stir with a groan. You rolled over and reached out slowly towards the blonde. “Kunikida… you’re home…” His head swiveled around and he gave you a nod. “Yes, sorry I’m late,” He sighed, “I had a lot of paperwork to do because we just wrapped up a big case.” You hummed pleasantly and crawled towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Well, you’re home now, come rest with me.”

Kunikida looked down at you as you rested against his side, putting your weight on him. He sighed softly and placed his hand atop your head gently. “I will soon, I have to change and eat. Did you eat already?” You nodded. “I made dinner and set some aside for you.”

With that, he stood up and started to leave until you grabbed his wrist. You looked up at him drowsily with a frown. “You’ll be back soon, right?” He patted your hand reassuringly and nodded. “Of course, it’s nearing the time in which I’m supposed to sleep anyways, I won’t be long.”

ODA’s jobs are always fairly unpredictable, he’s normally stuck doing obscure tasks assigned to him because he’s at the very bottom of the pecking order. In other words, it’s not completely out of the question that he gets home at varying times depending on the job. Tonight just happened to be a time in which he gets home late. When he got home, he happily found a plate of curry on rice already set aside for him. Of course, he went straight for that first, he figured you were in the bedroom anyways and he didn’t want his food to get even colder.

After finishing his meal, he washed his plate and left it to dry before going to get himself ready for bed. He used the bathroom before finally going to the bedroom, only to find you fast asleep already. Oda leaned over and kissed your temple, brushing your hair out of the way gently. You started to stir with a hum and a smile on your lips. You slowly opened your eyes and blinked away slumber, clearing your vision enough to see your lover.

Your smile widened and you reached out steadily to cup his stubbled cheek. “You’re home.” You muttered drowsily. Oda nodded and reached up to hold the hand on his face. “I’m home. I already ate, thank you for the food. I just came to get into bed.” You nodded and scooted over to make more room for him to lie down.

The two of you laid facing each other, you nestled up against him promptly, following a sort of routine. “Hard job today?” You piped up. He shrugged. “Just took a while, nothing major.” You nuzzled your face further into his chest with a content sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re back.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You laughed. He had a point, he knew how to handle himself already. Sometimes you did worry that he wouldn’t come back, especially considering his rank, but you trusted him—trusted his judgment. You held him close as you fell asleep, embracing his warmth and listening to the steady beating of his heart.

tags: @pockystixxs

#ෆ┊¡ penned by val #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bsd kunikida #doppo kunikida #bsd odasaku #oda sakunosuke #dazai x reader #kunikida x reader #oda x reader #bsd x gn reader #bsd x reader

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Guess I ruined us pretty bad

Pairings - singer! Abby Anderson x ex! Fem! Reader

An - this is my second modern au Abby FIC// Abby is like Girl in red

Abby laid down on the bed in her hotel room. She had just finished another show on her country tour. At this point in the tour Abby didn’t even really care what state she was in just as long as the show went smoothly. The rest of the band was in different rooms most likely with some groupies, Abby however was alone.

She knew if she wanted she could easily find someone to sleep with, she was the Abby Anderson but she didn’t want anyone.

Abby sat up and opened her phone going to Instagram, she went onto her stalker account and soon found your account in her following..

You two had a shitty break up half a year ago when Abby’s career really started to take off.. she scrolled for a moment before clicking onto your live.

—

You were in your kitchen with Ellie Jessie and Dina, all of which was cooking sweets with you.

Jadenxoxo - “Are you still with Abby”

You read the message and sighed. “No sadly she had bigger plans that our relationship I still like her music though her new song is amazing”

“Her music is shit” Dina scolded. Before you could defend her Jessie and Ellie stepped in.

“You still listen to her music? Y/n we talked about this” Jessie sighed, while handing sone batter to fins to put in the cake pan.

“I don’t give a shit I still hate Abby after she got into that fight with Joel” Ellie scoffed. Now finally able to talk you rolled your eyes, “yeah well Joel’s not innocent in that either he had hit jerry during the bondfire, abby was only standing up for her dad”

“Whatever” Ellie Bit back before walking to Dina and grabbing her hips watching as she made the cake.

You rolled your eyes and continued to talk to people in your comments.

—

Abby smiled seeing you defend her. She watched until the live ended.. her phone went dark, she just sat in the darkness trying to get over the fact you two were done.

She opened her phone again this time pulling up your number, it had been months since she had last had sex. The last time being with you.. after your breakup she had just traveled with the band being happy as long as she wasn’t in your state.. she wanted to call you.

Wanted to apologize and maybe even offer to fly you out but she knew herself.. she just wanted to get off over the phone with you. Abby sighed and turned her phone off throwing it aside before laying down.. she didn’t want to be that person that called you up when she needed a quick fuck but she knew that’s who she was becoming..

————

You were sitting in a diner with your friends enjoying your meal. You looked over and felt a sense of dread seeing abby on a billboard promoting her new concert.

Dina noticed and shook her head. “I think she should stay out of Jacksonville, can’t believe she actually scheduled a concert for here”

The group agreed but you didn’t. “Y/n.. don’t tell me your thinking of fixing things with her” Ellie warned as if you said yes she was going to jump across the table and beat your ass..

You kept quiet for a moment. “It would be nice to see her again”

“And she’ll break your heart again— y/n you desevere better than her” Jessie added his two scenes.. “Abby’s not like tha—“

“Then Why did she tell you you were a condensing bitch for not going on tour with her?!” Ellie yelled but soon Quieted down as the diner looked over. “Next time I see that blonde haired bitch I’m kicking her ass”

“She didn’t call me a condensing bitch els”

“Sure”

Your friends continued to batter Abby all the while you just kept quiet thinking about what would happen if you saw her again. Would she call you? Show up to your place? You had no idea.

————

That night you sat in bed and just had your last argument with Abby on replay.

You were cuddling with Abby on the couch watching as a reporter show interviewed her. “Fuck baby see that I’m gonna be famous” Abby laughed and kissed your cheek.

“Uh huh, just don’t forget about me yeah”

Abby just snorted. “As if How can I forget about my girl if she’s always with me” she pulled you closer if it was possible but you remained confused. “What do you mean?”

She tilted her head. “What? Your coming with me on my tour” she awkwardly laughed, her body language growing more serious. “Your coming with me”

“No I’m not Abby” you pulled away to have a serious conversation. “I can’t just leave my job but I’ll be here supporting you from the sidelines”’ you tried to be supportive by grabbing her hand.

Abby however shook her head like it wouldn’t do. “Quit your job I’m making more then enough for both of us”

“I’m not quiting my job” you scoffed “this is my dream job and I’d be insane to leave it, I get how important this is to you but I can’t go abs”

“So what? I’m just supposed to spend months traveling without you” her tone accusatory, you shrugged your should irritated but Abby let out a scoff like sigh. “That’s bullshit, isn’t your job Doing work from home Why can’t you go”

“Because i Cant Abby can you stop acting like a child about this? Your an adult woman act like one”

“I’m the child for wanting to have you with me?!” Abbya tone grew louder.

“You know that’s not what I meant”

“Whatever” abby stood up and grabbed her keys.

“Abby where are you going!” You yelled and followed her outside your apartment complex down to her car. “What the fuck are you doing!”

Abby opened her car door. “Going to blow off steam”

“So your going to the gym instead of talking to me.. Abby if you leave this conversation you won’t have to worry about not having a girlfriend on tour.”

She got into her car before she paused. “Your not serious..”

“I am either we talk this out like adults or your on your own” your tone was strong but you tried to hide the years in your eyes. Abby just scoffed thinking your bluffing. “We’ll talk when we’re both calmed down ok, I’ll see you in an hour.. love you”

That hour when Abby came home you were gone.

—

At the same time Abby thought about the same thing.. she covered her face and cringed at how she didn’t take you seriously like she should of. She had ruined everything and ruined what you two had, just the thought of all that though made her sick.

————

A couple hours passed. You had woken up around 2am after your cat hit your face.. grumbling you moved over and checked your phone.

Almost dropping it you panicked as you saw a DM notification from Abby’s Instagram account. You debated for half an hour before actually opening it

- hey y/n I know it’s been a long time but I’m coming into state for a concert and I thought maybe we could hang out or something

You looked at the message nervous, should you respond? Should you ignore?

“Fuck” you groaned.. if you agreed you knew how it would end but you just couldn’t stop yourself

- hey Abby.. yeah I would like to hangout it would be nice to see you

- ….

- great! I’ll text you some details tomorrow. Come to my show yeah? you can hangout back stage while we preform

- …

- okay

You turned off your phone and made a face of discomfort. Once Dina and them found out they would actually kill you but what could it hurt, you still liked Abby yeah and maybe if she still liked you maybe there was a chance to make things work again.

————

You sat back stage shaking your leg as Abby finsihed her set. You waved as manny, Mel, Nora and some of the other people in Abby’s band walked by. You had hanged out occasionally with them but you didn’t really know them.

That’s when you saw Abby. She had her hair down with sweat beading around her face, she wore a black Tee and some cargo pants. It was simple but shit did it really show off Abby’s muscular physique.

She noticed you and walked awkwardly over. “Hey” she panted, You nodded in response. “Uh.. let’s go to my dressing room yeah? It’ll be more private”

Once in the room you got comfortable on the couch, watching Abby change which didn’t shock you since you two have seen eachother naked on a multitude of occasions. Abby sat down beside you.

It was silent but comforting as you two looked at eachother. “So” you finally spoke shifting around some. “How many groupies have you hooked up with” you teased.

Abby gave a breathy chuckle. “None actually.. I haven’t slept with anyone since our breakup, and what about you? How many women have come banging on your door begging for a chance”

“As if” you rolled your eyes “your the only woman I’ve met who’s actually almost broke down my door just to ask me on another date” it was nice talking to Abby. It wasn’t weird but enjoyable.

“And in my defense it worked didn’t it” Abby laughed. “Besides I had to do that after fucking up our first date”

You laughed in response. “Ok Abby” shaking your head but the blonde continued with a smile

“I’m serious!”

Laughing with Abby made you happy, you always felt your best when she was with you, You both calmed down eventually and just looked at eachother.. Abby’s smile fell, she grabbed your hand and sighed. She rubbed gentle circles on your hand in a comforting way. “I ruined us pretty bad huh..”

You didn’t respond, Abby took that as her answer. She leaned forward and kissed your cheek while placing her hand on your hip with her free hand on your cheek. She looked at you with affection before looking down ashamed. “I treated you like trash, and you deserve so much more than that.. and I know this is a shitty apology but I’m sorry.. I’m so so fucking sorry. If I could take everything back I would”

She cringed at the silence. Wishing to take everything back. You reached out and kissed her softly, it was short lived much to Abby’s dismay but she didn’t complain.

“I love you Abby.. I never stop” You softly admited. Laughing as Abby blushed, you tucked one of her stray hairs away before leaning in to kiss her again.

—

The following morning abby immediately posted you laying in bed beside her on her Instagram story.. resulting in multiple people congratulating abby on her relationship, some offensive names and comments, and lastly your friends blowing up your phone threatening to beat your ass for getting back with your ex.

#Spotify #lesbian #wlw #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou #the last of us 2 #the last of us #abby x reader

[lesbianpepsi]

More sam pwetty pls 😔😔😔 r and sam are going to the supermarket to buy something, some guy is harassing r, and sam gets protective maybe throwing a punch or two. Thank you pookie <3

i'm loving the love sam is currently getting. and ofc anything for you snookums 😘😘

Blessed with Beauty and rage

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Fem!reader

Request: Sam protecting reader from someone harassing her

Words: 3.317k

Warnings: sexual harassment, men being men, derogatory language/homophobic language, fighting, blood, swearing, mentions of sex, my writing, if there's anything else let me know

—————————————————————

"We need more snacks and booze for tonight's movie night." Mindy said as she dropped down onto the couch next to Anika, one arm swiftly wrapping around Anika's neck while the hand was preoccupied with a beer.

"More?" Sam questioned as walked into the living room with a glass of water, taking a seat next to Tara.

Mindy dumbly nodded as she rolled her eyes. "Yes, Carpenter, more. We've got four beers left and only a singular bag of doritos. There's eight of us here and that just isn't enough."

You nodded your head in agreement with Mindy, she did have a solid point. Especially with Chad and Ethan here, they'd devour the chips before anyone else could have any.

"Fine, but i'm not going to the store for you all again." Sam grumbled sipping on her ice cold water. The rest of the group quickly went to give their bullshit reasons to why they can't go.

"I went last time." Was Chad's excuse which you can deem as valid.

"My legs are sore after last night so I don't really want to be walking around." Quinn said which got a mix response from the group. Ethan, Tara, Sam, Mindy yelling TMI while you, Chad and Anika congratulated her.

"This is my apartment so I don't have to go." The younger Carpenter sister argued to which you found that excuse half bullshit half fair.

"I get to choose the movie tonight and I want to make sure it's something everyone likes." Ethan attempts which you find bullshit, but don't say anything.

Mindy and Anika piped up next with their excuses. "I pointed it out so I don't have to go, meaning Anika doesn't have to go either." That was even more of a bullshit excuse than Ethan's.

You were the last one to give an excuse as all eyes in the room fell on you. You groaned dramatically as you slapped your hands on your knees, standing up slowly. "Alright, fine I'll go. Someone message me with a list of demands." 

Chad cheered at that and gave you a thumbs up at taking one for the team. "Thank you, Y/n." Anika said in a sing song voice as she smiled sweetly at you.

"Yeah, yeah." You said as you walked over to grab your coat from the hanger. Throwing the coat on you turned to look at the group. "Someone better text me the list before I arrive."

The group said something along the lines of 'yeah sure' before they turned to look back at the TV.

Double checking you had your phone and wallet you went to leave but a voice stopped you from leaving.

"I'm coming with you." Sam told you as she walked up to you, you grinned as you looked at the tall woman. "I thought you didn't want to go?" You teased in a playful manner as Sam went to grab her own bomber jacket off the rack.

"Yeah well I'm not going to let you go out alone in the night." She replied as she leaned closer to you, you stared into her eyes slightly confused as your heartbeat picked up at the closeness.

Sam's hand stretched out to reach something behind you as she kept eye contact with you. You could smell the cigarette smell of her breath hitting your face at close proximity.

Just as Sam leaned forward her hand twisted at the door and unlocked it, taking a step back as she cocked her head to the side.

You blushed from embarrassment as you heavily misread the situation and stepped aside for Sam to open the door.

She swung the door open and stepped outside, you quickly followed her lead closing the door behind you.

Sam nodded at you before she began walking towards the stairs, you followed behind her in silence.

You and Sam had been having this weird situationship for the last few weeks, none of you were brave enough to actually make the next step.

Longing stares from opposite ends of the room, long nights spent together just talking about everything and eventually falling asleep, picking up on each other's habit, and of course having sex whenever you two were alone.

And especially for you when you ended up blushing like a fool whenever someone would comment on it. Cough cough Mindy

Before the whole situationship started you had been crushing on Sam, hard, for a few months. Her rare smile that managed to take your breath away, or that even rarer laugh she'd let out that simply made your heart skip a few beats.

Basically, you were down bad for this woman. Your only worry was that Sam wasn't that interested in you as you were with her.

You were the first one to even make it a situationship when you and Tara came home from a party and Sam was not pleased that you two had snuck out.

In fact she was raging.

You weren't even drunk but Tara was hammered and immediately collapsed in her bed before Sam could lecture her, meaning you were left to hear Sam's lecture.

While Sam ranted and listed off a myriad of reasons why it was stupid you finally got enough and silenced her with a kiss. Then not long after that kiss it led to you two falling on her bed and having the best sex of your life.

"What store do you want to go to?" Sam's voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you glanced at her, slightly surprised you two were sitting in her car.

Jesus you didn't even notice you had reached the car.

"Target?" You suggested while you fastened your seat belt. Sam nodded mutely as she turned the car on, shifting her gear into first as she began to leave the apartment complex car park.

After a few seconds of driving Sam's phone automatically connected to the car and her music began to play loudly throughout.

'You Give Love A Bad Name' by Bon Jovi started playing, you smiled at the familiar tunes, tapping your fingers against your thigh mimicking the beats being played. 

"Where were you last night?" Sam asked as her hand went to lower the music. You turned to look at her, giving her a knowing look.

The group had another hangout session the previous night, Trivia Thursday, it happened once a month since movie nights happened on a weekly basis on Fridays.

You didn't come that night since you were hanging out with your new friend Carmilla. She had a dark sense of humour that you could appreciate.

All the two of you did was make a cheesecake and watch a few Criminal Mind episodes. Nothing more.

The clenched jaw on Sam's face and her almost non blinking eyes told you that Sam definitely thought you did more than that.

"I was with a friend." You stated nonchalantly as you gave her an innocent smile. "Why did you miss me?"

Sam rolled her eyes as her grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Don't be obtuse, I was just curious." She grumbled in a hushed voice as her eyes focused on the road.

"Oh, well if you were just curious." You replied as you turned your head away from her direction to look through the side window.

In your head you slowly counted down from ten, knowing Sam would want to be more curious.

As you reached zero you heard Sam shuffle in her seat. "Who was your friend?" She asked with jealousy, lacing her words.

You take out your phone to see if anybody had sent you a list of requests as you replied to Sam.

"Just a new friend I met at a coffee shop." Sam hummed as her eyes flickered over to your phone and saw your fingers tapping away on the screen.

"Just a new friend, how lovely. Is that who you're texting right now?"

You chuckled as you shook your head, still shocked by this jealousy from Sam. "I'm replying to Mindy's text with what they want."

"Oh."

Yeah, oh.

"They want two packs of six cans, twizzlers, chips and salsa, a tub of honeycomb ice cream, skittles and chocolate." You listed  as you reread the text message.

Sam grunted which you took as an 'okay'. The two of you didn't say anything else for the car ride to the store, the only sort of noise coming from the car was Sam's music.

Around ten minutes passed before the two of you arrived, Sam silently getting out of the car as she slammed the car door shut.

You followed suit but didn't slam the car door as harshly as she did. Sam was waiting for you at the front of the car, locking the car with a click of a button the moment you closed your door.

Sam walked by your side towards the entrance of the store, grabbing a basket from the entrance.

"You're quiet tonight." You mentioned as you and her began slowly ticking off the items needed.

Sam glanced at you as she threw two bags of twizzlers into the basket. "Guess I'm just not in the mood." She murmured  as she glanced around for the chocolate that Chad definitely asked for.

"Not in the mood of having to go to the store, or with me, or just life?" You asked as you reached out for the chocolate bar at the same time as hers, your pinkies brushing over each other.

You gazed over at Sam who didn't take her hand away and kept it on top of the chocolate bar. Her eyes were focused on yours.

You swallowed nervously as you slowly pulled your hand away, slightly gliding up Sam's forearm before dropping your hand completely.

Sam froze for a second before she shook her head and snatched the bar from the shelf and threw it into the basket.

"A bit of the first and third one,  but definitely not the second one." Sam said as she turned to look at you, her face was void of any smile but her eyes told you enough.

Those dark eyes that you could stare into forever and never lose interest.

You smiled softly at her, your eyes lingered on hers for a second before they moved down to her lips.

"That's everything." Sam abruptly said forcing you to look back at her rather than her lips.

You nodded slightly embarrassed as the tip of your ears burned with blush. "Beers, chocolate, twizzlers, chips and salsa and skittles." You listed as you peered into the basket Sam was holding.

Sam cocked her head towards the self checkout to which you began walking there without hesitation, Sam right beside you.

Since it was quite late and a Friday night meaning most people were out drinking, there were only two other people at the self checkout till. An old woman and a lanky boy who was only buying a monster and vape.

Sam and you opted to the closest till and began scanning your items away. Before you reached the final two items left your eyes widened with realisation.

"Shit, we forgot Ethan's honeycomb ice cream." You say as you look at Sam who stopped herself from scanning the skittles. She sighed as she scanned it anyway.

"Are you okay with running to get it quickly?" She asks as her tired eyes flicker over your face, her eyes staring longest at your lips.

You nodded your head like a manic before briskly walking out and heading towards the frozen section at the store, the further part of the store.

Picking up your pace you quickly made it there within thirty seconds, there was only one other person in the aisle, a man who looked to be around in his thirties.

You didn't pay much attention to him and swiftly walked over to the ice cream section. You quickly found the tub of honeycomb ice cream and grinned as you pulled it out.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a store at eleven in the night?" A raspy voice said from behind you. You grimaced at the voice, it wasn't raspy like Sam's in the morning. No, this was just off putting.

You turned around as you closed the freezer door to the ice cream section, backing up against it from how close this man was to you.

You glanced down the aisle in the hopes of seeing Sam randomly there but there was no sign.

"Just buying ice cream for my girlfriend." You lied as you took a step to the side as the man's eyes narrowed on your chest.

He hummed creepily as he licked his dry lips, his dark eyes slowly looking back up to yours.

"A girlfriend huh? Why would someone as hot as you decide to be with a girl rather than a man. I bet you just haven't had the right dick in you yet." He perved as he stepped closer to you which resulted in you taking more steps back.

"Sorry mister but my girlfriend is waiting for me so I really got to go." You told him as you gave him a smile in hopes he'd leave you alone.

Big mistake.

"Fine, fuck you fucking worthless piece of shit dyke." He snarled as he took heavy steps in following you. "Fucking fags like you should burn."

You didn't turn around as you ran out of the isle, as you turned the corner you collided into someone.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Sam asked as she grabbed at your shoulders to calm you down.  "Sam." You whispered as you noticed who it was, without thinking you dropped the tub of ice cream and threw your arms around her waist as you pulled her closer.

"What happened?" Asked Sam as she hugged you back, her stiff shoulders relaxed at the contact.

"Some sick perv was hitting on me and when I told him I had to leave he started calling me slurs."

Sam didn't say anything for a moment as you felt her entire body stiffen at your words. Her arms slowly dropped as she took a step back.

"Who?" She demanded in such a dark voice that if you didn't see Sam say it you wouldn't believe it came from her mouth.

You shook your head as you tried smiling at Sam in hopes of calming her down. "Just some creep, but I'm here with you now and safe."

Sam ignored you as she stepped around you and walked into the frozen isle, her eyes landing on the same man who was harassing you earlier at the very top of the isle.

"Sam!" You whisper yelled as you chased after her as she began storming towards the man. She ignored your words as she came closer to the man.

He heard the heavy footsteps coming from Sam and turned to look at her, his creepy smirk appearing once more before it quickly disappeared when Sam punched him in the face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Sam snapped as she glared at the man who flew to the floor from the harsh contact.

"The fuck lady?!" He screeched like a baby as she clutched his bleeding noise. Sam's eyes narrowed on his head before she swiftly kicked at his jaw.

He yelled out in pain as Sam slammed her boot into his chest, pinning him down. "You think hitting on a woman who clearly don't want you is funny?" She sneered as the man stayed under her boot, whining.

You were frozen as you stared at the unfolding scene in front of your eyes.

Sam pressed her boot further into his chest at his silence. "Is it? Or is the homophobia what's so fucking funny for you?" She spat out in a venomous voice as the man looked up at her.

"I think when a whore throws herself at you and then rejects your advances is only getting what she deserves." He bellowed as that revolting smirk appeared on his bloodied lips.

Sam didn't hesitate as she took her foot off his chest and slammed it down on his fingers, a sickening crack being heard.

She kneeled down at the crying man with a look of pure fury on her face. "If I ever see you out in public again, I will rip you open and put your insides on the outside. Showing to the world you're just as vile as you are inside as out." She whispered into ear before she turned to punch him once again.

You finally snapped out of your daze as Sam began to punch him again, rushing over to pull her off the man.

"Sam, Sam, just stop!" You pleaded as you tugged at her shoulders. She turned to look at you and the venous look in her eyes got replaced with a soft glance she only gave to you.

"You've gotten your revenge now, please let's go." You begged her as you moved your hand toward her wrist, tugging at her.

She turned to look at the crying man who was clutching his nose before she stiffly stood up.

You smiled appreciatively at Sam before pulling her away faster. Sam wrapped an arm protectively around you as the two of you walked out of the isle.

Sam picked up the melting ice cream off the floor as the two of you made your way back to the till.

As you finished paying and scanning everything Sam went to talk with a worker and told them about the man.

The two of you didn't want to stay any longer in the store and made your exit, walking much faster to Sam's car.

The second you two were inside Sam locked the car as she sat there in silence. You looked over at Sam who was staring at her bloodied and already bruising fists.

You frowned as you instinctively went to grab one of Sam's hands, she didn't say anything as you pulled her knuckles to your lips, softly kissing it.

You lowered your hand after a few moments as you traced circles on the girl's fist softly.

"You didn't have to do that Sam. If the media finds out they'll have your head." You whispered, Sam shook her head in disagreement.

"I most definitely had to do that." She replied as you kept on caressing her hand.

"But the media-"

"I don't give a shit what people think about me, Y/n. What I do give a massive shit about is you and your safety." She declared as her eyes moved from your fingers on her fist to your eyes.

You swallowed as you breathed slowly. "Sam." You croaked as your head dropped, your eyes focused on her bruised knuckles.

You did this. You hurt Sam.

"It's not your fault, Y/n. The only person who is at fault is that scum." Sam said as if she could read your thoughts. You looked back at Sam who had a small smile on her lips.

"I'll always be here to keep you safe." Sam whispered, pulling her hand away from yours to gently place on your jaw.

You're heart began drumming in your chest as Sam's eyes glanced down to your lips before back to your eyes.

"I love you." You whispered without thinking as your eyes connected with hers. Sam swallowed as she leaned closer to you.

"I love you too." Sam whispered back. That was all you needed to hear before you lunged forwards, capturing her lips with yours.

The kiss was different compared to all of your previous kisses. Those were filled with lust, hunger and desperation. Those kisses were rushed and aggressive.

This one was nothing like that. This one was full of love as you kissed Sam slowly, sighing against her lips as you shut your eyes feeling content.

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