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#but will bitch around her and maybe avoid here even more cause she reminds him so much of her mother
homkamiro · 6 months
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can you draw fem scout and dad spy pls?? I think it's going to be fun 🤣
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That's a really nice thought!!! And a funny dynamic
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shorkbrian · 3 years
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Omg hi so I read your babysitter fic and I was thinking what if bakuogus tired of reader being a brat with him so he brings Kiri over to help him out 🤤 srry im just being horny on anon rn
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“C’mon princess, move your ass before I move it for you.”
You huffed at the blonde, opening the car door, stepping outside and slamming it shut. Bakugou shot you a harsh glare, but you weren’t looking at him, instead crouching to tie your shoe.
He gave you a moment to do that, before the man got impatient, clicking his tongue, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go, it’s not like I have all fucking day.”
You knew for a fact that yes, he did have all day.
Your mom was away again, another business trip. She was working towards a promotion - a position that meant more hours, more work, more travel.
More time being spent with your stupid babysitter.
With your rapist.
He hadn’t touched you, not outright, since that day. Every time your mom suggested having him over for dinner, you conveniently found somewhere to be; out with friends, on a date, having a sleepover. Anything so that you didn’t have to look at Bakugou Katsuki’s stupid, smug little face.
But your mom had surprised you yesterday night, letting you know she’d be leaving in the morning, that Katsuki would be staying over again. There wasn’t any time for you to argue with her, to plead for her to stay, or to take you with her, or for you to stay at a friend’s house, anything but Katsuki.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to avoid him!” She had laughed, before wagging a finger at you. “Don’t be rude. He’s a nice man, and I trust him to keep you safe. He did last time!”
Yeah, and he also assaulted you last time, so maybe he wasn’t as nice of a guy as she thought.
He was taking you to the mall, not even really giving you a choice, just telling you to get dressed, that the two of you were going out.
Now here you were, trudging silently behind the older man, glaring at the ground.
“Bakubro! Over here!”
A loud shout drew your attention, Bakugou grinning as he started veering towards the shouter, a red-haired man waving enthusiastically. You followed behind him obediently, taking stock of this new man.
He was fucking huge, thick thighs bulging against his jeans, biceps straining against the fabric of his navy hoodie. This new guy was handsome too, a wide, sharp smile, soft red eyes, a clean-shaven face.
“’Sup Idiot? You tryin’ to attract the whole mall? Always so damn loud.” Even though he was complaining, it was clear that these two were friends as Bakugou let the other man pull him into a hug. They pounded each other on the back, before the redhead drew back, pushing past the blonde to give you his full attention. 
“Who’s this? Did you get a girlfriend? She looks a little young bro.”
“I’m not his girlfriend.” You spat, and the redhead held up his hands in surrender as Bakugou shouldered him to the side.
“It’s the little fucker that I’m looking after as a favor. You know I work security for that office complex?” The redhead nodded. “Yeah, one of the milfs gave me free range of her house as long as I watch her.”
Both men looked at you, and the redhead smiled brightly.
“Ah, well, I’m Kirishima! Nice to meet you, sorry you have to put up with such a grumpy fucke-”
“Hey, shaddup.” Bakugou elbowed him, but Kirishima was already extending a hand for you to shake, and you did so gladly. At least you weren’t the only one who thought Bakugou was a grumpy, stuck up mess.
“’Kay, now can we go? I’m starving’, wanna eat before we do anything else.”
Kirishima winked at you as he threw an arm around your shoulders, his other arm around Bakugou. “Food court? I think they have a pretty good selection here...”
-----
Kirishima was much more tolerable than Bakugou.
He was funny, cracking jokes and making you almost spit out the soda he had bought you, slipping you five dollars behind Bakugou’s back for you to get a drink.
The redhead sat next to you while the three of you ate, including you in the conversation whenever Bakugou seemed to forget about your existence.
As the three of you walked from store-to-store, Kirishima listened to you ramble on about the latest game you’d bought, what you thought of your favorite snack brand trying to collaborate with a fashion company, all your opinions on the music playing faintly through the mall speakers.
It was fun when he grabbed your hand, tugging you away from Bakugou and along with the redhead as he ducked into a random store. It was some street-wear fashion place, and Kirishima wanted your thoughts on if a shirt was his color, or if he could pull off one of the hats that adorned the mannequin in the store window.
The two of you were busy laughing at how the hat couldn’t even press past his spiky hairstyle when you noticed Bakugou, glowering at you both from the outside of the store, lips pulled into the deepest frown.
Kirishima started laughing at the man’s expression, and you quickly followed suit, before Bakugou stalked inside, cuffing his friend on the ear.
What a spoil sport.
You couldn’t deny that by the end of the few hours you’d spent with Kirishima, you found yourself attracted to him. Not only in looks, but also in his goofy personality. You wouldn’t mind being friends with him.
It was easy to exchange numbers with the man, easy to let him lift your spirits.
And then it was time to leave, all three of you grouped at the entrance, saying bye, Bakugou and Kirishima giving each other another bro-hug.
You gave Kirishima a hug, leaning into his warm touch, enjoying his spicy cologne as you pressed your face against his broad chest. He eagerly returned the hug, until Bakugou was scoffing, pulling you out of his embrace.
“We’re in fucking public, you two, chill. Keep your pants on, sluts.”
Kirishima laughed, giving you a cheery wave as Bakugou gripped your hand until it hurt, dragging you out of the mall quickly.
-----
“Why are you being such a brat? You were fuckin’ fine earlier.” The blonde man grumbled, glancing over at you from where he was making dinner.
You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your water. “It’s not my fault you have a stick up your ass. All I said is I don’t like when you make food, tastes bad.”
Bakugou huffed, turning off the stove. “Are you fucking serious? You’re just trying to mess with me, aren’t’cha princess?”
“Could you stop calling me that? I’m not your princess.”
“You’re whatever I want you to be, princess.” Bakugou sneered, stomping towards you.
You quickly backpedalled, setting your glass of water down on the counter, stepping back. “I’m going to go set the table!” Was your way out, and Bakugou backed off as you threw open a cupboard, rummaging for plates and cups as he chuckled to himself.
“Yeah, you do that.” 
It wasn’t long before the table was set, Bakugou bringing the food to set it down onto the hotplate in the middle.
Even just a whiff of the food had your eyes watering, the spice through the roof.
“Seriously dude? You know you’re cooking for two people, why the fuck did you make it inedible?!?” 
The blonde man glared at you as he sat down, jaw working, mouth twisting. “You gonna be a bitch-baby about it? Should be fuckin’ grateful that I even made you dinner.”
“Thanks for dinner.” You mumbled, staring tiredly at the food Bakugou was heaping onto his plate. You didn’t feel like eating anymore, his outburst ruining your mood, reminding you of the time when he got angry because you wouldn’t go to bed, wouldn’t listen to him-
“Eat the damn food.” Katsuki snapped, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present.
You did as he asked, even though it burned your mouth. Dinner was quickly gulped down, followed by desperate swigs of water as you tried to chase away the spice. Bakugou huffing the entire time at your inability to handle the level of spice he preferred.
Afterwards, you gathered up the plates and washed them, conscious of Katsuki hovering in the background of the kitchen, watching you work while he tapped away on his phone.
When the last dish was washed, dried, and put away, you began rummaging in the cupboards, looking for something sweet, something to soothe your tastebuds.
“What’re you doin’, didn’t I just feed you?”
Bakugou’s harsh voice made you flinch, but you kept your back to him. “Was hoping there’d be dessert.”
A long, irritated sigh, then a hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you away from the kitchen cupboards. “Ain’t got any of that shit in the house princess, you don’t need it.”
“But-” Your plead was interrupted by Bakugou rolling his eyes, snorting.
“Why are you being such a whiny baby? Is this cause Kiri was spoilin’ you earlier?”
Jutting your chin out, you glared up into red eyes as you turned around seething. “Maybe I like being treated like a person and not a problem. I don’t even understand why he’s friends with you - you’re mean and crass and stup-”
“So you’re just acting out cause you want some extra attention or some shit? What a brat.” The blonde sneered, leaning back against the counter as he tapped away at his phone again.
“You want Kiri so bad, fine. I’ll have him get you some shitty grocery-store dessert. Then maybe you’ll stop acting like a bitch. Stuff some candy in that mouth, will that keep you quiet, huh?”
It was infuriating, being treated like a child. Ignored, talked down to, unable to assert yourself or make decisions. 
“Whatever.” You huffed, shaking your head as you walked out of the kitchen. “Anything’s better than having to sit here with you.”
-----
The front door opening and the faint rustle of grocery bags caught your ear as you fumed on the couch, angrily questioning “why me?” as to your situation. But the noise meant your new friend was here, and he was much nicer than Bakugou.
Nice enough to have you smiling a bit as you rose to your feet, padding into the dining room as you beelined to the soft murmur of two manly voices.
“Heyyy! Long time no see!” The redhead was dressed in a loose tank top and basketball shorts, shoes discarded somewhere in the hall. 
You’d known he was muscular, but actually seeing his muscles without clothes in the way? You were stunned.
A bright blush encompassed your face when Bakugou snapped his fingers, narrowing his eyes at you. “Ay’, stupid! Focus! He got you a bunch of sweet shit. Rot your teeth out.” While gesturing to the two grocery bags resting on the dinner table.
“Hi Kirishima, thanks for the desserts-”
“Aw, it’s nothing. Bakubro wouldn’t tell me what kinda flavors you like so I kinda got a variety...”
Cupcakes and candy and various other sweet treats were nestled in the bags, and you grinned. “Dude, it’s all good. Wanna sit down and have some too?”
Bakugou snorted while Kiri smiled at you, nodding his head.  The dining chair creaked as his weight settled in it, the redhead pushing the grocery bags towards where you sat, encouraging you to pick anything you wanted.
The two men began to talk about this and that, mundane things about work, odd jobs, what their plans for the weekend were, boring stuff you easily tuned out as you indulged in sweet desserts.
Their attention turned to you when a whine slipped from your lips as frosting fell rom the cupcake you were eating and onto your shirt. Before you reached for a napkin, Kiri was leaning over, invading your space.
“You’re kinda messy, aren't you?” He breathed, a single finger swiping through the frosting on your shirt before the redhead sucked it into his mouth, looking at you through his eyelashes.
“Oh-u-uhm...” Was your elegant reply, tummy filled with butterflies at the fact that his finger had pressed against your skin through your shirt, right underneath your breast. 
He was so hot.
“Yeah, and a fuckin’ brat too. Little bitch can’t stop complaining about every little thing. Shut up the second I mentioned you were coming over.” Bakugou cackled, breaking the mood completely.
But Kirishima’s eyes were still on you as his now-clean finger slipped from his mouth. It was mesmerizing, watching the muscles in his arms shift and move as he leaned closer, slipping his hands underneath your shirt and raising the fabric so he could lick at the frosting still stuck on it.
Your breath stuttered, heat flaring suddenly in your tummy at the action.
And then Bakugou had to ruin it again. 
“You can fuck her if you want, I don’t mind. I told the old bird I would watch her kid for her. Didn’t say nothin’ about not getting her drunk on some cock.”
Eyes squeezing shut, you opened your mouth for some snappy reply, but Kirishima beat you to speaking.
“Yeah? Alright. You good with that baby?”
Wait, good with-?
Kirishima was looking up at you expectantly, fingers still clutched in your shirt, refusing to touch your skin. He was hot. This was hot. It’d be perfect if Bakugou wasn’t here.
“C’mon, just fuck her man, she’s been gaggin’ for your dick since she met you. Stop being a loser and man up.”
The redhead in front of you smiled, sharp teeth on display and gleaming. 
Then your shirt was being pulled over your head, hands gripping at your chest, thumbing over your nipples through your bra.
“W-wai-Kiri! Uhm, can’t we- uhm-”
Your voice was ignored, the redhead’s eyes glued to your chest as he pulled down your bra a bit, until he could palm each breast without anything in-between his warm hands and your soft skin.
“You’re so pretty...”
“She’s a whore.” Bakugou snarked.
Hands migrated to your waist, and you were easily lifted onto the table, Kirishima rising from his seat so he could push at your shoulders until they met the solid wood. Bakugou stayed seated, casually notching his hands behind his head and leaning back as he watched the show unfold before him.
Things were happening so fast, you didn’t know what to say, couldn’t move your hands to push away the broad redhead. This was so confusing. Yes, you wanted him, but you didn’t want Bakugou watching. You didn’t want to do this on the dining room table, didn’t like the quick turn the night had taken.
Your pants were being pulled down before you could organize your thoughts, before you could do much else aside from whimper and press your legs together.
“Hah, cute panties. You always wear stuff like this?” Kirishima asked, sliding a thumb underneath the elastic waistband only so he could snap it against your skin. You gasped at the little sting, unsure what to say, what to do.
“Most of her stuff is stupid girly shit like that, so yes.” 
You tried to throw a glare Bakugou’s way, but with the blonde somewhere behind you sitting at the table, you couldn’t turn your head far enough.
Especially not when you were distracted by Kirishima pushing down the waistband of his shorts. 
“I’m so glad I didn’t wear jeans.” He chuckled, holding his cock at the base as he sat back down again, scooting his chair up to edge of the table where your legs were splayed wide.
“Okay pretty, try and stay still for me. Make as much noise as you wanna, Bakugou and I don’t mind.” And then a warm mouth was pressed up against your cunt, licking at you over your panties, dragging the rough cotton against your most sensitive parts.
“Oh! o-oh, oh-oh-” Was all you could make your mouth manage as the redhead gripped your thighs in his giant hands, pushing them apart and allowing his massive shoulders to fit between them as he bent to lick at your pussy.
It felt... It felt so good, building up pressure in your stomach as your hole clenched around nothing.
Then Kiri did something awful, pulling your panties to the side and nosing into your folds with a pleased grunt. His skin was so warm, and you were so wet, and his nose started bumping against your clit as the man sloppily mouthed at you, and you couldn’t-couldn’t
“Stop-stop! ‘m gonna cum!” You wailed, legs twitching.
Immediately Kirishima drew back, soothing circles getting rubbed into your calves by thick fingers. “You don’t wanna cum in my mouth? Wanna cum on my cock instead? That’s cute.”
He stood up, and you barely got a glimpse of his dick bobbing against his stomach before he was leaning forward and catching your lips in a kiss. It almost scared you, sharp teeth poking menacingly against your lips, dragging across your skin as Kirishima moved his mouth against yours, but the redhead knew how to work with his teeth.
“Man, she really is a slut for you.” Bakugou piped up from behind you. He was a bit breathless, voice scratcher, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when Kirishima was pulling away with a groan, one of his hands fisting his cock.
The redhead gathered the spit in his mouth, leaned down, and let it drip onto your cunt, panties still pushed to the side. It was burning hot, adding to the fire in your tummy, blazing higher and higher.
Heavy breathing and labored panting filled the room as Kirishima edged closer to you, laying his cock flat against your entrance, playing with your panties as he did so until they pressed against his cock as it nestled between the lips of your cunt.
And then he started grinding.
Slow, delicious, absolutely heavenly.
You almost didn’t care about the disgusting little groans coming from Bakugou, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist, the creak of his chair behind you.
Almost.
Your attention was more focused on the pleasurable little zings going up your spine as Kiri rubbed his cock through your folds, all slick and wet. You kept your legs spread wide for him, barely able to breathe at the heat that seemed to fill the space, fill your lungs and steal your voice.
Kiri leaned down to kiss you again, and your hands fisted into his tank top, the material sweaty as it clung to his chest. If you could focus, you’d be trying to pull it off him, see the beautiful skin underneath, the man’s gorgeous body.
But what he was doing with his hips felt so good, you couldn’t even think.
“Kiri-Kiri, gonna-ohmygod-gonna-!”
And you came, shuddering as his cock kept fucking back and forth through your folds, twitching against your clit, veins in his dick pulsing and dragging against your skin.
He wasn’t stopping.
“Unhh, I came, please, wait Kirishima-”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to cum on my cock baby? I’m barely getting warmed up.” A feral smile gleamed bright from his lips. “I don’t play like Bakugou, I like messy girls. Gonna get you so fucked out you can’t even speak, can’t even walk. Won’t give him any trouble then, right? You’ll be good? For us?”
The look in his eye told you that you weren’t going to get a choice.
“Fuck Kiri, turn her over when you fuck her cunt so I can use her mouth.” Bakugou’s voice cut in, and your mood soured even more.
But Kirishima was already agreeing, cock still thrusting against your cunt. 
You didn’t get to make decisions anymore.
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miraeluc · 3 years
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you have an eating disorder
prompt: “you never had issues with food - that is until your boyfriend makes a remark about your weight.”
pairing: katsuki bakugo x female! reader
word count: 1.6k
warnings: MAJOR TW!! anorexia, there’s swearing
genre: fluff, angst 
NOTE: this is not proofread at all and it’s kinda short, i was struggling to finish it a lot, sorry :(
you were never one to pay special attention to your diet or anything
life is short, why spend it worrying about how your body looks?
food is food man, and you need it to live 
there was no fun in dieting either, it’s not like you were ever fat anyway - with daily training you were in shape!
sure there were thinner girls, but like i mentioned, you just liked enjoying food without having to worry about losing weight all the time 
your boyfriend, bakugo, just does not know how to express himself 
he’s not the type to really pay any mind to your figure, he finds you pretty anyway 
and its a plus anyway - whenever he feels full he can just push his plate towards you and you’ll gladly finish it for him 
that is until one day
you were sitting with the baku squad at lunch
mina was telling you about a new tiktok trend she had stumbled upon and found hilarious 
denki was currently fighting for his life against bakugo after saying his hair looked like he was just hit by an electricity quirk before he proceeded to zap him lightly 
kirishima was regretting all of his life decisions when he decided to try and help denki 
sero was just sat there,, recording it so he could show them just how stupid they looked afterwards
kirishima finally managed to pull said angry-boy away from kaminari 
you always said he’s like a little angry pomeranian when angry lol 
back to the plot omg i got carried away
after bakugo was calm enough to take his initial seat beside you, he was already too full and just overall not hungry
so he pushed his plate towards you 
“eat up, fatass.” he grumbled out
you just looked up at him with wide doe-eyes, not expecting an insult to slip off his tongue
it was bakugo, what’d you expect lmao 
you looked down at the plate, suddenly feeling very not hungry anymore, instead pushing the plate away as you grabbed your bag to stand up
“actually, i’ll head up to my room, i feel a bit sick”
you immediately left after that, not seeing the confused glances the table exchanged, mina smacking bakugo’s head
you went to your room and laid down, not knowing why bakugo’s comment had made you feel upset
you never get upset when he makes dumb remarks!!
so why now!!
oh 
you realised it when you were stood in front of the mirror, shirt lifted, staring at your own body
you did gain some weight.
you were upset at yourself because you usually didn’t mind!!
you know weight fluctuates, you know the small amount of chub you have will eventually pack it’s little bags and leave again 
but it hurt because you wanted to be pretty for your boyfriend.
how could you be when he says you’re a fatass?
eventually, you ended up scrolling through your phone, looking at thin girls all day
you also looked up a few diets that worked very fast 
by the time bakugo was aggressively knocking at your door you had closed all of the pages you were previously looking at 
as soon as you swung the door open he strutted in, seating himself on your bed
“what was with you running off at lunch today?” he looked at you 
you were still stood at your door like.... mm ok i guess make yourself at home 
“huh? i told you, i felt a little sick.” you mumbled, closing the door again, it was getting late and you were not looking to be beheaded by aizawa
he scoffed “if you say so.” he laid down, kicking your blanket to the side
“i brought you some snacks - incase you got hungry..” he said, his face looking like >:( 
he didn’t get them because he knew you liked them and wanted to make you happy! not at all!!
he just didn’t want to put up with you being whiny
that’s for sure the reason 
you giggled, throwing yourself ontop of him - sounds of protest coming from him but he did wrap his arms around you 
“since when are you so nice, katsuki?!” you teased
lol wrong move 
in 0.01 seconds you were flipped over and held down as he started tickling you 
“i’m not nice!”
the next morning you left extra early to avoid getting breakfast with bakugo
he didn’t seem to be bothered by it, he also has days where he just doesn’t feel like eating early in the morning so 
it does start to bother him when that one day of skipping breakfast turned into every day
his google search bar is like 
‘why does my gf not eat’
‘do girls not eat breakfast’
but this bitch is also too scared to approach you at first because he doesnt want you to know he truly cares 
his ego is still too high for that 
but you know better
you know he cares but sometimes you don’t feel good enough for him
you can’t help but compare yourself to other girls at your school
you distance yourself unknowingly, lost in the counting calories and exercising every day
everyone but you notices that you’re literally spiraling 
you don’t notice that you look sick, skin paling and cheekbones getting more prominent every passing day 
you don’t notice the growing eyebags under your eyes 
all you notice is other pretty girls and how you want to look like them.
at first, your friends decide to give you some space, thinking that maybe you have to fix this within yourself and need space
and you do, but someone needs to snap you out of your little bubble 
that someone is bakugo 
so it goes like this 
during training, he noticed your legs being a little more wobbly than usual 
and he noticed that you were unfocused, not being able to dodge all of the enemies attacks 
but something inside of him snaps when aizawa has to stop the fight because you were not even fighting back anymore
before aizawa even arrived in front of you, your world went black and you collapsed
bakugo was so angry at your training enemy 
didn’t they fucking see your struggle?? 
did they really have to be stopped by their teacher??
would they even have stopped if it werent for aizawa?? 
probably not
but he didnt have time to go and yell at them because he was running towards you 
aizawa let him pick you up
“bring her to recovery girl.”
of course he did 
everyone watching was so shocked 
because bakugo didn’t let out a sound the entire time 
his face was pulled into a frown, as usual, but he wasn’t speaking- no, yelling
he showed past his classmates, walking towards recovery girl’s office
“ribbit, why was he so quiet?”
recovery girl was like ?!?!?! what the fuck happened when was the last time she ate
she had to give you a total parenteral nutrition
(that means nutrition/fluids are delivered into your body via a catheter placed in a vein of your body, usually lower arm)
when you woke up bakugo was sat next to the bed, reading the back of some medicine bottle he found there
when he noticed you awake he perked up a little, shoulders visibly relaxing
“what happened?” 
he narrowed his eyes, wondering for a second if you were serious 
“you’re starving yourself to near death, that’s what happened.”
you immediately grimaced
“did i pass out in front of everyone?”
“is that seriously what you’re worried about?!”
you remained quiet, looking away
“y/n, look at me.” he gently guided your head to face him
“i don’t know what drove you to do this to yourself, but i need you to stop. you’re going to die if you don’t stop. what idiot made you think you need to do this to yourself?! i’ll kill them!”
..
“you told me i was a fatass”
his jaw dropped
fuck
“you know i don’t mean when i insult you! i hide the fucking fact that i WANT you to eat by using insults! i’m so sorry..”
his voice went soft at the end
he truly felt so bad :(
he was the one that was supposed to protect you from others hurting you yet here he was, being the one that caused you to hink you weren’t worthy enough
“i know, but there’s so many much more prettier girls than me, i was afraid you’d lose feelings if i wasn’t thin enough.”
“are you kidding?! you’re the only one i have eyes for! all those other extra’s can fuck off, i don’t give a single shit about them!”
you were kinda tearing up
“do you promise?”
god, he felt so bad.
he sat on the edge of the bed, reluctantly pulling you in a hug 
“i promise”
from that day on he made sure to remind you to eat meals, even if it was just something small
he ripped everyone’s heads off if they made a comment about your eating habits and/or weight
and he made sure you were the only one he loved
the day he saw you collapse something broke inside of him
it opened his eyes that hiding his emotions from you wouldn’t help you in your relationship
so while he supported you to build your feelings of self-worth and eating habits, you helped him start to open up, teaching him that showing emotions wasn’t embarassing
no one else knew how soft he could get with you and it should stay that way
you had a long way to go but it was all worth it in the end
he was your little angry pomeranian <33
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Text
covered in bruises
word count: 2,611
pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader
warnings: brief mentions of blood, nosebleeds, bruises, and scuffs/cuts, also a bitchy ex-boyfriend who sucks and shares some private pics. also some swearing cause it’s me (but i promise it’s fluffy!!!)
a/n: i genuinely have no clue where this idea came from but I’m a sucker for partners taking care of each other after a fight or something so tadah. thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells for helping me with the ending and @thisnoodlewritesao3 for helping me with the title! i hope you guys enjoy!
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A few years ago, if you had told Y/N Y/L/N that she would be answering a phone call in the dead of night from Yamaguchi, she probably would’ve guessed that the two of them had forgotten about some project they were supposed to complete and the pair would’ve spent all night working on it while Tsukishima slept peacefully knowing he had finished it.
What Y/N never guessed on happening was Tsukishima stumbling through her front door, only barely being held up by Yamaguchi, the blond’s face covered in scuff marks and blood dripping from his nose and lips.
“What the hell happened?” Y/N gaped, immediately rushing to Tsukishima’s other side and helping him into the kitchen.
“Don’t even get me started,” Yamaguchi grumbled, muttering something about keeping your mouth shut and never would’ve gotten into this mess.
“Stop grumbling. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everyone’s fine,” Tsukishima huffed, pushing the two of them off but swaying a little.
“Tsukishima Kei, what the hell happened to you? You look like you got into a fight!” Y/N stared at him for a moment, watching as his gaze flickered away from hers. She glanced at Yamaguchi, as if hoping that would bring some answers, but he just glared at Tsukishima as well. “I’ll get the first aid kit,” she said after a beat of silence, walking to the other room.
There was a flurry of hushed whispers as she left, Yamaguchi insisting to Tsukishima that he needed to tell her what was going and Tsukishima being blatantly stupid and insisting that there was in fact, nothing going on.
By the time that Y/N returned, hands filled with some spare tissues and bandages, sprays and cotton balls, Yamaguchi had thrown up his hands in the air in exasperation, “I give up. I brought him this far. He’s your problem now,” he groaned, shaking his head towards Y/N. “I’m sorry for dumping him on you, but maybe you can talk some sense into him.”
Y/N and Tsukishima watched as Yamaguchi stormed off, leaving both of them in an awkward silence.
“Are you going to stand there or are you going to help me?” Tsukishima grumbled after a bit, sitting down on a nearby dining chair. 
Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, part of her wanting to smack him in the head but thinking better of it considering his injuries. “Here, hold this to your nose,” she insisted, handing him the tissues as she glanced over his body. From what she could see, the most damage was on his face but if he could keep his nosebleed in order, she could tend to the scrapes and cuts that were starting to bleed on his knuckles.
Pulling up a chair next to him, Y/N sprayed some hydrogen peroxide onto his knuckles. Tsukishima inhaled sharply, pulling away from her grip as he winced, “What the hell is that?” He glared at her, trying not to make it obvious just how much that fucking hurt.
“Give me your fucking hands, Kei,” Y/N demanded, holding her hands out with another vicious look. “You gotta spray them before they get all infected.”
The boy hesitated before slowly letting her hands take his, bracing himself this time as she dabbed away the blood and finally wrapped it up in some medical bandages. “I’ll get you something cold for your nose, hang on,” she mumbled, shuffling to the freezer and digging through to find something helpful.
Tsukishima shifted awkwardly, trying to glance around at anything else so he didn’t have to sit in the silence. “Are you not going to ask?” He muttered out finally, avoiding her eyes as he checked to see how much his nose was still bleeding.
“How about I assume it was something stupid?” she quipped, bringing over a cold ice pack. “Here, I use this sometimes when my muscles hurt after swimming practice.”
He nodded slowly, placing it over his nose in hopes of bringing down any swelling. Now that he was sitting here and his adrenaline was going down, everything was starting to ache a lot more.
“It wasn’t stupid,” Tsukishima murmured, glancing at her for a moment. 
Y/N laughed a bit, shaking her head, “Sure it wasn’t.”
Tsukishima frowned tightly, watching her as she cleaned him up. Her fingers delicately working along his skin, checking for any other cuts or scrapes along his arm. “Why would it be something stupid?”
“Because, the Tsukishima Kei that I grew up with only fought with snarky comebacks and sneers,” Y/N laughed a bit at the memories, glancing up at him and brushing her fingers along the cut on his eyebrow. 
“Wouldn’t that mean that if I had to punch someone, it would be something serious?”
The girl couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, thinking about this string bean of a boy throwing hands, “You punched someone? It kinda just looks like you got used as a punching bag.”
“Hey, it was 3 to 1. And I left some pretty good cuts on them too, thank you very much,” Tsukishima groaned a bit as Y/N dabbed a bit of the peroxide on his eyebrow, swatting at her hand, “Okay okay. I think it’s clean now!”
“So if one of these gets infected, will you be bitching like a little baby then too?” She shot back, smacking his hand away from hers. “How’s your nose?”
Tsukishima pulled the tissues and cold pack away from his face, letting Y/N examine him, “Well, I don’t think it’s broken so you’ll probably be fine. Just don’t take a volleyball to the face anytime soon.”
He just rolled his eyes as she went to start a kettle, insisting that tea was good for healing. 
“If I asked what it was about would you be honest?” Y/N questioned as she brought over two cups of tea.
“Would you believe me if I said they had just such punchable faces?”
“No.”
“Then no.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, kicking at his shin from under the table and making him whine a bit more, “Hey! I’m bruised all over the place!”
“Tell me what happened! Yamaguchi thought I should know so why shouldn’t I know?”
Tsukishima just looked away, fingers drumming along the mug that was warming his hands. “Just... some dude doing some dumb shit. Saying stupid things about...”
“About?”
“About you.”
Y/N stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Tsukishima wasn’t exactly the number one best example of a friend. And it wasn’t like there weren’t people before who didn’t like her. There were bound to be people saying shit.
“What did they say? Do I know them?” She asked finally, thinking back about the list of people she had in her head who definitely didn’t like her.
“It doesn’t matter, they were just being idiots,” Tsukishima tried to insist, sipping at his tea. “I was just annoyed and so I called them out for it. And the one guy took a swing at me. Then we just... did what guys do, I dunno.”
“Is Yamaguchi okay?” Y/N’s eyes widened, looking at her front doors as if the boy would magically still be there. “Did he get hurt?”
“No way. If anything, Yamaguchi probably broke the one guy’s nose,” Tsukishima snickered, thinking back to the moment where one of the dudes crumpled up in pain after Yams smacked him around. 
Y/N nodded slowly, reminding herself to text the boy later and make sure he was alright. “You’re really not gonna tell me what they said?”
Tsukishima stretched his legs out slightly, getting more comfortable in the seat and avoided her eyes some more, as if pretending she hadn’t said anything. But the awkwardness exuding from him was very evident. “He just... said something about you being average... but still kept showing off these stupid pictures,” he finally muttered out, ears going red.
Y/N felt her heart drop a little. She didn’t need to hear anything more than pictures to know that her fucking ex-boyfriend was the one who was causing all this trouble. She had so many regrets about that relationship, and one of them was the photos that she had sent.
“I deleted them,” Tsukishima commented after glancing at her expression. “When I knocked him down I grabbed his phone and deleted them. I dunno if he has other copies somewhere but...”
Y/N practically threw herself across the table, wrapping the string bean boy into a hug. There was such a relief off of her shoulders, just knowing that Tsukishima had tried to get rid of them.
He grunted in response, pulling her closer into a hug but also shifting her weight around so it wasn’t on his side (which hurt like a bitch). “Stop doing stupid things for boys who are too dumb to realize what they have,” he commented, flicking her head.
She gave a little laugh, hugging him tighter for a moment before pulling away, “Yea yea... Does that mean I should stop taking care of you all the time?”
Tsukishima’s lips made a few protesting sounds, huffing before finally standing up and stretching. “I should get going. I don’t want you to stay up too late or you’ll be yawning all day tomorrow in math.”
Y/N smacked his arm a little making him wince a bit, which just made her laugh, “Go on then. Try to take a shower and ice your bruises. And next time you beat up my ex-boyfriend, call me so I can take a swing at him too.”
Tsukishima smirked and nodded, heading to the front door and slipping his shoes on. 
“Hey Tsukishima?”
He glanced back at her, surprised to find the nervous look on her face. She shifted on her feet for a moment before reaching up and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, “I mean it. Thank you.”
Tsukishima burst into a fit of stammers, insisting that it wasn’t that big of a deal and she shouldn’t make it into one, but his cheeks were glowing red while he waved it away.
The next day at school, Y/N couldn’t help but smirk when her eyes landed on her black-eyed and scuffed up ex-boyfriend. For a string bean, apparently Tsukishima was pretty good at landing punches. Maybe it was the snarky expression on her face, or maybe it was just because she had walked by, but before Y/N could rush past him, her ex-boyfriend stepped in front of her, glowering down at her. 
“Get out of my way, asshole,” Y/N huffed, stepping back slightly.
“You know, I always knew there was something going on with you and Four Eyes,” her ex told her in a low voice, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I should’ve known you were cheating on me.”
“Right, I cheated on you and then broke up with you for cheating on me,” Y/N raised an eyebrow up at him. “Get lost, idiot. I don’t have time for you.”
“You’re saying you weren’t seeing him behind my back? That it’s not suspicious that you two immediately started going out after we broke up?” His voice was raising, causing all the students nearby to glance in their direction, whispers filling the space around them.
“We aren’t going out,” Tsukishima’s voice thudded into the air, his heavy arm flopping onto Y/N’s shoulders. He patted her head gently as he gave her a simple smile before turning his glare onto the dude in front of him. “I didn’t ask her out when you two broke up. But if she’ll have me, I can do it here and now in front of you?” 
The offer stunned everyone around them, even the whispering bunches of teens who had come around to see if these two bruised and beaten up boys would end up fighting again. Y/N looked up at Tsukishima with wide eyes, heart palpitating against her chest.
“I knew you liked her,” her ex scoffed. “Too bad she’s too good for you.”
“Well if she settled for the likes of you, I must have a pretty decent shot. I might not be the best boyfriend material, but at least I know not to talk shit about a girl like Y/N,” Tsukishima snapped back. His eyes finally met Y/N’s and she had to wonder for a moment if he was being serious or just saying this to show up the asshole in front of them. 
“There’s no way she would go out with you-” the asshole glared at the two of them.
“Yes,” Y/N breathed out softly, both Asshole and Tsukishima’s eyes falling on her. “Ask me.”
Tsukshima’s usually scowling lips turned into a smile, patting her head and ruffling up her hair slightly, “Go out with me.”
Y/N nodded with a smile, still searching his eyes for any sign that this was a genuine interaction. 
“Finally,” Yamaguchi huffed from behind the two of them, grinning widely as they all turned to look at him. “The two of you look good together. Now hurry up, we’re going to be late to class.”
Tsukishima grabbed Y/N’s hand before she or her ex could say anything, pulling her ahead as they followed Yams to class.
“W-Wait, Tsukishima,” Y/N stopped in her tracks as they got outside of the classroom, Yams already heading in.
“What?”
Y/N watched him carefully, still unsure of his intentions. “Thank you, for helping me out back there but...”
Tsukishima’s eyes darkened for a moment, like he was coming to some sort of realization, “If it was just a ploy to you, it’s fine. We can just say it was to get him off your back, that’s fine.”
She grabbed his arm as he started to move away, frowning as she looked up at him, “N-No, that’s... I just wanted to know if you... if you meant it.”
As his eyes met hers again, he tilted his head slightly, “Meant what?”
Y/N sighed, knowing they were going to end up going back and forth on this topic if she wasn’t straight up wit him. “Did... Did you really want to ask me out?”
He gave a smirk and Y/N’s heart started to fall - so it had been a joke this whole time then. “Obviously I wanted to ask you out. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now. Did you think I would just ask you out for no reason?”
Y/N wanted to point out that he could have just asked her out to humiliate her ex but seemed to catch onto this and just laughed. “If you think I’d actually fight a guy for just anyone, you’re stupider than I thought.”
She pouted in return, hitting his chest in defiance, “Hey!”
Tsukishima laughed and flicked her forehead, smirking down at her, “Go out with me. Seriously this time.”
Y/N glared playfully at him, pushing at his chest a little, “Fine. But you’ve got to be a bit nicer to me.”
“I took punches to the face for you, how much nicer can I get?” Tsukishima scoffed but bent down and kissed her nose gently. “Now hurry up, we’re late now, idiot.”
Y/N couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching them as Tsukishima interlaced their fingers together and pulled her into class, dropping her off at her seat and giving her a cheeky wink, before taking his next to Yamaguchi. 
She glanced at him every few seconds in class, pinching herself each time he would catch her eye and give her a small smile, wondering if her dreams had really come true. Had the guy she had fallen head over heels for really just asked her out?
Yes. And surprisingly, it was all thanks to her piece of shit ex boyfriend and a bloody nose.
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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years
Note
For smutty prompts: 97) “I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.”
With Andy or Ransom? Anyone really 😂
Oooookkkkk, this is gonna be Ransom, cause I’ve had a similar idea to this for him for a while now.
What, the OTP again, you say? You guys just keep lining them up for me 😉
Tagging the OTP babes @stargazingfangirl18 @chrissquares @subtlebucky @egcdeath
Send me smutty prompts!!!
Again, 18+ only guys, this is straight up porn!
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You had never been more bored in your life.
It was Linda and Richards’ 40th anniversary, and they were throwing a giant party at a fancy hotel in downtown Boston. Of course you had to go, you and Ransom were pretty established now, as much as Linda hated it.
It was literally just a bunch of old money families that Linda was trying to ingrain herself to, bunch of stuffed suits that had nothing better to talk about than summering in the Hamptons or their brand new yachts or whatever the fuck the obscenely rich and out of touch loved to drone on about.
You’d lost track of the number of gin and tonics you consumed an hour ago, keeping yourself glued to Ransom’s side purely because you needed someone to roll your eyes at and he was your only option.
“How you feeling there, sweetheart?” He asked as some ancient man with a name like Chauncey or something finally walked away from you after chatting at you about his damn hunting lodge for what felt like an hour.
“Please kill me.” You whined, running your hand over your face before taking another sip of your drink as he chuckled at you. “Just break your glass and shove the shards into my throat.”
“I thought you were used to talking to rich people?” He said. “Isn’t that all you do at that charity of yours?”
“Those are rich liberals.” You said as you chugged the rest of your drink. “Who also aren’t the best, but at least I don’t have to listen to them complain about environmental regulations the whole time.”
“Well, why don’t we give my parents those super thoughtful gifts you got them then get the fuck out of here?” He said, taking your glass from you.
“Yes, please.” You said grabbing the presents you’d spent way too long on and following him through the crowd.
It didn’t take you long to find Richard and Linda, at the center of a flurry of activity. You waited patiently for them to be free before stepping in front of them, Ransom wrapping a protective hand around your waist.
“Mom, Dad, Y/N and I are gonna head out but we wanted to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary and give you your gifts.” He said, his fingers drumming against your side with nervous energy.
“Yes, happy anniversary you two.” You said, giving them a forced grin as you handed them their presents.
“Oh you can’t leave yet, Ransom.” Linda said, completely ignoring you. “There’s someone here I want you to meet. Muffy!”
Ransom let out a groan as Linda wandered off to grab some uptight looking woman who was about your age but who looked about as bored as you felt. Richard just gave his son a clap on the shoulder and gave you a lecherous grin, before turning to head to the bar.
“Gross.” You muttered before turning back to you boyfriend. “You wanna tell me what’s going on, babe?”
“Yeah, my mom’s been trying to get me to go out with this Muffy chick for months.” He said nervously, loosening his tie around his throat. “I think her parents own a textile conglomerate or something. I thought she would’ve let up once we made it official but I guess not.”
You didn’t get a chance to respond before Linda was shoving the poor girl at Ransom and trying to get the two of them to chat, still pointedly ignoring you.
“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you. This is my girlfriend, Y/N.” He said as he pulled you even closer.
“Hi Muffy, it’s my pleasure.” You said, offering her your hand as you beamed at Linda, who was looking very unhappy. “So sorry to cut this short, but we really do need to get going. Always great to see you, Linda.”
You dragged Ransom away from the crowd by his tie. He made a small sound of surprise when you turned away from the exit and started to head towards the bathroom.
“Babe, the exit’s that way.” He muttered, grinning at you.
You turned around and brought his face to meet yours, smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss, running your tongue over his teeth before breaking away and leaving him breathless.
“I know where the exit is, but there’s something I want to take care of first.” You murmured as he rested his forehead against yours. “Now go make sure there’s no one in the bathroom, and I’ll make you come so good baby.”
“Fuck, don’t gotta tell me twice.” He muttered before striding inside.
He was only gone for a few seconds before popping back out and dragging you in after him, picking you up and wrapping your legs around him.
“So...” you murmured as he set you on the counter, his lips moving all over your neck and shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me your mom was trying to set you up with a socialite?”
“Didn’t really seem important.” He muttered against your chest as he slotted himself between your thighs. “It’s not like I was actually gonna do anything with her.”
“Right.” You said as you started to undo his belt.
You removed his belt and started to work on undoing his fly, sighing as he sucked a bruise against your throat. You tugged his slacks and boxer briefs down his legs and wrapped your hand around his cock, making him groan.
“Whose cock is this baby?” You purred as he straightened up to rest his forehead against yours, your grip on his length tightening as he hissed between his teeth.
“Shit, you’re mad.” He mumbled as you squeezed him harder, biting your lip as you watched precum leak from his angry tip.
“Not mad, baby.” You murmured, running your thumb over his slit and making him groan. “Just feel like maybe your need a little reminder. Now tell me whose cock this is.”
“Fuck, it’s your cock.” He moaned as you smeared his precum over your fingers and dragged your hand over his length.
“That’s right baby.” You whispered as you brought your hand up to cup his cheek. “All mine. Just like this pretty mouth.”
He hummed as you slipped your fingers into his mouth and continued to draw your hand over his dick. His tongue swirled around your fingers as you pushed them further into his mouth, nudging the back of his throat as you slid off the counter.
“Look at you taking my fingers so good baby.” You cooed at him as you moved to stand behind him, sliding your fingers out of his mouth. “You know what else is mine?”
His breath hitched as you ran your hand over the curve of his ass, teasing your finger around the rim of his puckered hole, your other hand still drawing over his length as you bent him over the counter.
“Fuck, oh my god.” He groaned as you slid your finger inside him, arching his back into your hand.
“Ooh, baby, you are so fucking ready for me aren’t you?” You purred at him as you stretched him open, his cock twitching in your grip. “I own you, Hugh. This is my body, sweetheart, I can play you like a damn fiddle.”
He cried out as you slipped another finger inside him, scissoring them in his pretty hole as you curled over his back and pressed soft kisses against his neck. You shoved them even further inside him until they were nudging his prostate, and he swallowed a scream as your hand moved even faster over his cock.
“Mmm, sing for me pretty boy.” You murmured into his hair. “I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this. Now cum for me sweetheart.”
You sank your teeth into his neck as you shoved a third finger inside him, your other hand squeezing his cock. Ransom screamed as he came violently, his body rolling underneath you as his cum spurted all over the counter and his pretty hole fluttered around your fingers as he sobbed against the countertop.
“Oh my god!” You heard a sound of disgusted surprise from your left and turned to see Walt and Richard standing there with shock written all over their faces.
You stood up and grinned at the two of them as you pulled your fingers out of Ransom and unwrapped your other hand from his cock, smacking his ass hard and making him yelp as he panted against the counter.
“Hey there boys!” You beamed at them, Ransom finally coming back to himself and straightening up, avoiding making eye contact with his father and uncle as he pulled his slacks back up and tucked himself in. “Richard, please tell your wife to stop shoving WASP bitches at my boyfriend.”
——————————————————————————
A/N: This ended up being super long, whoops! But hey, sub!Ransom guys!
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ryozoro · 3 years
Text
Hades Playlist - ii.
NOW PLAYING: Vampire [Dominic Fike]
cw; nothing really, very small mentions of manipulation and murder
an: SORRY FOR THE LATE UPLOAD , THINGS GOT BEHIND SCHEDULE :(
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“The curious are always in some danger. If you are curious, you might never come home.” – Jennette Winterson
She couldn’t get him off her mind; ever since she met him, all her thoughts have led back to the droopy eyes and the slick back hair that seemed a lot softer than what the gel presented it as. The whole idea of her thoughts tracing back to the eldest of the Haitani’s and her heart beats mimicking each time the octave of his voice dropped with every word he spoke to her, made yn almost forget all the rules her big brother placed when it comes to men.
Why does she yearn to be in the presence of someone who would not hesitate to take her life for a laugh amongst his gang? Why does she want to run into the back allies of each street in hopes of accidentally bumping into him? Why isn’t she able to use common sense and erase the memory of him out of her head? Why does she feel like fate has strung their paths together on purpose? Why – you know what? Maybe she latched onto Ran so fast in hopes of forgetting someone else that continued to plague her mind daily. Maybe she is becoming obsessed with idea of someone not seeing her as a kid. That has to be it, right? Ran, ‘Tani-Senpai,’ shares the same interest and even wants to talk to her later as if they have been old friends. That has to be it —
“Yn!” her brother’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Are you okay, ya idiot?” She took note that everyone at the table was staring at her, waiting for her to answer Draken’s question. “You’ve been spacing out since we got here,” Draken frowned as he plucked a piece of food from her plate, “are you sure that nothing happened on your bike ride to the shop?”
“If you were riding to the shop, I would have gladly picked you up,” Inupi chimed in with a soft smile. “I told you to treat me like I’m another older brother.”
“Hm,” yn hummed while avoiding eye contact with the blonde man, “wanted to surprise my troll of a brother and I figured you were off because its Tuesday.”
“Ah,” Inupi gently laughed as he watched her play with her food, “you remembered my schedule?”
Of course, she remembered his schedule. Yn knew almost everything about him; from the origins of his beautiful burn mark to his favorite snack in the vending machine back at the shop, yn knew and fell in love with it all. Draken always teased her about being in love with Mikey or Hakkai since she always seemed relaxed around them, but little did he know that his little sister was in love with his best friend and business partner.
“I’m honestly shocked that you kept it the way you did,” yn side-eyed him as she raised the other hand to pick at the bandages that wrapped along the underside of her jaw, “but at the same time, I’m not that shocked considering old people love to stick to their schedules. Wouldn’t want you straining your back, Oji-chan.”
Inupi laughed – God, she loved that laugh - whole heartedly to the point he began choking on his food. Of course, sitting with their friends and family, Inupi’s contagious laugh spread amongst the others and the people around them either ignored it very well or gave them silent glares in hopes they would stop; surprise, they did not. Hell, if anything, it got worse – so much worse – to the point that Mikey, Takemichi, and Chifuyu all fell out of their chairs.
“I – what did I say that was so funny?” yn pouted as she fished her phone out of her pocket, “I just called him the old man he was.”
“That’s why, brat,” draken flicked her forehead and chuckled, “we had made a few bets on what you would say when Inupi had talked to you. Surprisingly, Mitsuya guessed you would have called him a grandpa.” Draken and the others proceeded to give Mana’s big brother 200 yen as they got up off the floor and calmed down.
“So, Yn,” Takemichi looked her in the eyes with a dopey flushed face.
“Watch it ‘ Mitchy,” Kazutora playfully warned, “don’t wanna embarrass the poor girl since she just got back.”
“What is it, crybaby,” she asked hesitantly as she scanned over his face, noting signs of mischief lurking in the corners of his smile. “It better not be something stupid, or else I’m telling Hina-san about what you did last time you came over to the shop.”
“Oi, you’re so mean – just like your brother,” Takemichi pouts and fans his hands towards you, “but it’s just a simple question, neh.”
Yn enjoyed Takemichi’s presence more than someone from an outside point of view would have thought. He always served as a hero in her eyes as he saved Mikey from the dark path he began to walk and how he constantly reminded her brother on how much his deceased lover, Sano Emma, watches over him and guides him to all the good things that happens in his life. He was an amazing guy and one that she wished had set her expectations for her taste in men, but her heart yearns for those who are completely out of her grasp.
“Just ask or else I’m calling Hina-san,” yn smirked as she brought her phone screen into view for Takemichi to see that “Hina-san <3” contact was pulled up and only one press away from being dialed.
“Oh, you bully!” Takemichi sighed dramatically, “I was just going to ask how long you have been into gilfs?” Draken choked on his drink and Pah-chin was patting his back in hopes of easing the rough coughs. Everyone at the table began to cause even more ruckus with tears of laughter as yn sat there dumbfounded.
“w-what,” she scratched her head and looked around the table in hopes of someone taking note of her clear ignorance at the word that Takemichi had claimed her to be attracted to. Since no one answered, she decided to speak on her own, “what the hell is a gilf?” Much to yn’s dismay, the table went silent for a brief second before bursting out into an even louder fit of laughter. “Well?! What the hell is it?”
“Yn, love,” Smiley spoke between hiccups and giggles, “it’s the same thing as a Dilf or Milf, but for old people.” After he finally finished his sentence, he leaned against his twin and laughed even harder.
“I-,” yn stood up and threw her dirtied napkin and spoon at the man who made the joke, “I’m not attracted to gilfs you fuckin idiot.” Yn moved behind Takemichi and put him in a headlock, “what made you even think to say that ya CD sellin’ pervert.”
“Oi,” Draken said from above her, “let ‘Mitchy go or else I’m taking you back all the way to Fukurodani and asking them to volunteer you for the summer school tutoring.” Yn dropped her arms in defeat and made her way back to her seat. “And you,” Takemichi looked up at her brother with a teary-eyed smile, “go clean your hair up before your wedding. It’s in three days and anyone can tell you pick at your split ends during your down time at work.” Draken laughed as Takemichi’s expression turned into a pout and he began punching Draken’s solid abdomen.
“Oh,” Angry stood up abruptly, “yn, could I see ya outside really quick?” Despite his rough tone, everyone knew he was asking in the kindest way possible.
“Yeah, sure,” yn got up with a pout and made her way to the exit with Angry trailing her with a hand on her mid-back. She was confused as to why they went outside at such a fast pace, but she just assumed that Angry wanted peace and quiet away from the others. “So,” yn smiled at the younger twin, “what did you – why is your face angrier than usual?” She titled her head at the man but he was quick to grab her hand and guide her towards his bike.
“Hop on,” he straddled the seat and waited for her to do the same, “don’t worry, Draken texted me to take you back to me and Nahoya-nii’s shop. So… hurry up, please.” Souta stopped her right before she got on and placed a helmet on her head, “safety first because I’ll hurt you if you get hurt,” he said as he proceeded to adjust the straps enough to keep her safe and comfortable. “Get on, Princess,” he kicked up the kick stand and took off fast out the parking spot.
“So – uh,” yn spoke aloud as they arrived at a stop light, “why did nii-chan tell ya to take me to the shop… I wasn’t done eating.” She felt her stomach rumble and she pressed her cheek to Angry’s leather cladded shoulder blade and readjusted her grip on his waist as they began moving towards the backroads to get to the Kawata’s Ramen shop.
“I’ll make you a bowl when we get there,” he relaxed his upper body so yn wasn’t laying against hard muscles, “and we left because everyone kept staring at you.”
“Psh,” yn rolled her eyes, “they were staring because I am a strong, independent woman who managed to put a MAN in a headlock like a bad bi-.”
“Enough of your ‘bad bitch’ talk, I believe you, but I promise you that was not the reason.” Angry spoke through a breathy laugh, “the cook and the table in the corner was kept looking over you. Don’t you think it was weird how when they brought our orders out and Draken said your rice was missing an egg and the cook came out and apologized himself?”
Yn pondered on the question for a bit but then shook her head gently and nuzzled inbetween the center of Angrys’s back, “no, to be honest, I thought that the cook just hates when he messes up. It can’t be that deep, yanno? Oh! Maybe they mistook me as an idol?” She felts Angry’s laugh bubble from his chest to his shoulder blades; Souta’s laugh honestly made her feel like her jokes were genuinely funny to listen to.
“Hate to break it to you,” Angry brought the bike to a gentle stop as the arrived towards the ramen shop, “but you don’t present yourself as the ideal image of the idol you probably think you are.” Yn joined Souta in the small fits of laughter as she gently punched him in his side.
“Oh, shut up,” she let out a soft breath as she hopped off and carried the helmet with her as she made her way to the employee back door. “Open up, yeah? ‘M reeeeeally hungry.”
“Already ahead of you, ya dumb brat,” Angry bumped his hip gently against yn’s and unlocked the door and pushed her inside. They placed their helmets and jackets off in the staff room and made their way towards the kitchen where she sat at bar stools and Angry started up the stove to boil a few eggs and moved to chop up some green onions. “You want beef or chicken, idiot?”
“Sheesh, souta-kun, if ya wanted to marry me – just say that,” Yn teased as she propped her head onto her two hands, “your terms of endearment have been getting sweeter and sweeter by the minute~ but! I do want chicken please, been not feelin like eating cow and pigs lately.”
“Yer annoying,” angry threw a small, chopped onion at her, “in your dreams I’d marry you. Plus, I KNOW I’m not your type. You go for mechanics with burn marked boys that work with your brother -,”
“OKAY, NOT NEEDED,” Yn pressed her face to the counter, “asshole… He’s my type, but I’m not his. He’s like, Makima and I’m Denji… please tell me you understand that because it’s the best I got.”
“I understand it, and I just want to say that that is the most tragic thing I have heard from you in a while – oh, but back to the restaurant,” Angry said as he slid a small chocolate mochi from out the freezer and towards yn on a cute, small plate, “there was a customer who went into the back the second he heard that your order was wrong. I thought it was weird because what cook comes out that frightened when they get someone’s order wrong, but then your brother texted me saying that every man there had their eyes on you as if they were in charge of watching your every move. At first, Hakkai noticed some of the men sporting a ‘Bonten’ tattoo on their wrist, so we thought maybe they were after Mikey, but then Mitsuya texted us when he went to the bathroom that he heard some of the guys saying your name. Once that was said, Draken immediately told me to take you away from there… I do have a question for you though.” Angry began whipping up the ramen in the most tasteful way and side-eyeing the young ryuguji, “did you by chance get into it with a few Bonten member’s when you first got here? Is that why you’re all bandaged up?”
“Souta,” yn felt her heartbeat pick up but remained composed, “nothing happened with what ever ‘Bonten’ members… you know how weird some gangs are…”
“I trust you, brat,” Angry’s frown deepened once he noticed that the eggs were ready to be cut and the chicken was ready to be fried, “I just don’t want to lose another family member, okay? We babies have to stick together.” With that, he paid no mind to the situation, making a small mental note to tell Draken that one of the members there probably just thought yn was pretty. “Oh,” Souta looked back at yn, “one more thing.”
“Y-yeah, of course,” yn snapped her eyes to meet his gaze, nervous that he might have picked up on the fact that she lied about not coming into contact with any members when she first arrived, “what’s up stinky?”
“Just be careful,” Angry passed her a water bottle, “don’t trust anyone who isn’t in our toman family; especially not a Bonten member. He’ll take you in, manipulate you into believing you can’t live without him, and sell you off with no cares in the world. That is, if you’re lucky enough not to be killed in the middle of the street for entertainment.” Souta turned back around to finish up the ramen.
“Yeah,” yn felt a chill go down her back, “I’ll be careful… I promise.” She honestly didn’t know how to feel, after all, she just met with the man who presented her with an unrequited love, another man who made her heart yearn to lurk into the depths of the shadows, and someone whom she considered family just told her that one of those men would lead her onto a road of misfortune. Lost in her thoughts, she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She pulled on it and felt her stomach drop as she was greeted with two notifications.
Draken bacon >:D : You okay kid? We’re heading to the restaurant right now, ‘m sure nothing was wrong – just wanted ya to be safe. me and inupi there in a bit, the other boys are getting stuff together for our dinner tonight. don’t annoy angry too much <3
Tani-senpai <3: why did you leave so soon pretty girl? Didn’t mean to alarm you, but I sent your picture to quite a few of my juniors and underlings, delinquents if you will – just wanted them to know not to touch what isn’t theirs. N e Wayz, I have time now, do you want to call now?
Were the gods telling her to remember her caring brother’s rules on men or to listen to faint voice of curiosity that lingered in her young and ignorant mind?
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novamirmirsblog · 3 years
Text
Mission gone right
Hi guysss. This is 18+ ty :3
Word count: 1596
Genre: Smut, kinda dark? R is bad basically
Request: no
Warnings: Wanda sex magic, swearing, alcohol (think that's it)
A/N: we got votes for both angst and smut so I kinda combined both? I feel like this isn't angsty enough so imma write something super angsty next. Then I'll go back and do some more spidey duo xxx
"What to do, what to do, what to do..." You paced back and forth around your living room. "Ugh!" throwing your hands up in the air, you flopped down on the sofa, leaving your legs dangling over the arm. Switching on the TV, you saw that there was a new display at an art gallery. You looked around your walls and saw nothing as pretty as the painting on the TV.
"I guess one more couldn't hurt..."
The TV then changed to show that the Avengers were making a special appearance considering Tony Stark owned the gallery and it was it's opening night.
With newfound determination, you got dressed in a red dress with a neckline that dropped all the way to just above your navel and a slit that went all the way up to the middle of your left thigh. The dress gave you the freedom to move but still looked like it was just something pretty to wear. You grabbed your clutch (because god forbid a woman has pockets) and headed out.
~~~~~
Soft music played as people with more money than sense wandered around the gallery. Women wore pearls loosely and men had watches just begging to be taken. You had to focus. You were there for one reason and one reason only. The oil painting apparently cost millions. You didn't really care about that - it was a nice touch, sure - but not the reason you wanted it. You told yourself it was because it was a pretty picture but maybe it was more to do with the fact a pretty mindreader was going to be there tonight.
So far, you had done well to avoid the guards and cameras. You had stolen from this place a few times before and you knew that they rarely changed their security because you had cameras on them. You had seen a few of 'Earth's mightiest heroes' and had tried to ignore the disappointment you felt when it wasn't Wanda.
It's not like the two of you had history, but you were at HYDRA when the twins were too. You were a failed experiment. Your powers were useful, but not useful enough. They also took a little time to form. Time that Strucker didn't want to waste. You, Wanda and Pietro spent about a year together before they went to the 'good side' and you delved deeper into what your powers could do for you. You'd think that HYDRA would love the fact you could convince people of anything and erase all traces that you had ever been somewhere, but apparently they weren't looking for spies, they had enough of those.
You strolled around until you made it to the bathroom, waiting there for the rest of the evening. You had everything planned, walk up to the picture, take it from it's frame and leave out the front door. Everything was going according to plan until you heard footsteps behind you.
"Hey! What are you doing there!" You opened your mouth to speak but you were grabbed and dragged round the corner and into a storage room.
It was Wanda.
"What the hell are you doing here!" Wanda whisper shouted as guards jogged past our hiding place.
"Same as you apparently." You realised Wanda hadn't noticed how close the two of you were, cupoards were very small...
"You just fucked up my night out."
"Sorry darling, at least my night is going splendidly." You winked and leaned in closer, watching as the anger transformed to lust on her face.
You were taller than Wanda by maybe half a head so she had to look up at you as she tried to formulate a reason to get out of there. Technically, she didn't even have to be there. She could walk out right now and the guards wouldn't even bat an eye and yet something was making her stay.
You moved slightly and Wanda groaned ever so faintly. It was so quiet that you would have missed it if you hadn't been so close to her. You then realised that your leg was conveniently placed between Wanda's, and what can you say? The storage cupboard was small. It wasn't your fault.
Okay, it was maybe a little bit your fault.
"Oh darling, has no one been taking care of you?" You mocked, leaning in and whispering over the shell of her ear "Want me to take care of that?"
Wanda froze even more. Her mind was racing so fast that there was no possible way for her to read yours even though she was desperate to do so. She hadn't seen you in forever but when she glanced over when Tony was telling her a particularly boring story, she couldn't help but gasp at how beautiful you were. Wanda had hoped that you were just there to admire the art work but she knew, deep down, that that would be too good to be true.
"Cat got your tongue?" You were unaware of the turmoil you caused for Wanda. Too focused on your own fun and the way her suit hugged her in all the right places. You wanted nothing more than to fuck her there and then. You didn't want a meaningful relationship with Wanda, just something physical. The two of you were occasional fuck buddies when you were both at HYDRA - the relationship turning slightly toxic very quickly.
You both liked to see how quickly one could get the other jealous. Whether that meant flirting with other people and making sure the other one saw, or just outright sleeping with whoever was nearest. While it seemed that Wanda had grown out of that toxicity, finding love with a glorified Alexa, you never had.
"Why save me darling? I can handle myself."
"You were two seconds from being caught" It was a little disheartening to hear her accent slipping, the last little piece that reminded you of the Wanda she used to be.
"No. No I wasn't." you lifted her chin up and spoke into her neck "I don't need you to save me."
Wanda let out another groan, much louder this time as her hips bucked on your thigh.
"Shhh" You chuckled lowly "We don't want anyone to hear you, right?"
You grabbed her hips and kissed her. It was rough and fast. Wanda whimpered and began grinding harder, trying to get more friction. One hand traced lightly on Wanda's thigh and the other tugged at her waistband. Wanda got rid of them instantly with her magic and you slipped your hand into her panties.
"Shit sweetheart, your toaster not giving you the satisfaction you need?"
"I don't want to think about him" Wanda let out with a slight growl, her accent getting heavier again, like how it was when you knew her.
"Sweetheart when I'm done with you, you wont think of anything else for months."
"God you're a cocky bitch. You're all talk and no action."
"No?" You pushed two fingers into her. You weren't feeling nice enough to start off slow and she was wet enough for it anyway.
Wanda's back arched as she let out a moan and you kissed her chest, her blazer falling open to reveal an extremely unbuttoned shirt. She tried to push your hand further, desperately chasing her release but you pulled away, taking your hand and licking your fingers, watching as Wanda gulped.
"Please..."
"But darling, I think the guards are gone." You smirked as the witch basically threw a temper tantrum.
"So? I haven't felt this good in so long" Wanda shoved her own hand back to where yours was. It was strangely extremely hot to see her try and get back to her high. She suddenly opened her eyes and looked at you. You could see the red wisps surrounding you before you nearly doubled over, looking up at Wanda who wore an evil smile.
"Now you know how I feel. Are you going to get back to it?" Wanda had never done this before. When you had known her, she had little to no control over her powers, only being able to control things with her mind and read others thoughts. She had been practicing.
"Fuck you."
"Well yes, that's what I'm trying to get you to do."
You dropped to your knees and took the rest of her underwear off, slowly licking her as she swung a leg over your shoulder. "Shit y/n, just like that."
You worked your fingers in and out of her, feeling everything you were doing to her on yourself thanks to her magic. You got slightly sloppy as you both neared your climaxes. You suck and bit along her thigh and on her clit until you felt her clench around your fingers. You both saw stars as her magic continued to fuck you, drawing out your orgasms until you were both sweaty messes.
~~~~~
You never did get the painting that night. You didn't really get anything you wanted that night. You sat on the top of your building, one leg swinging and a bottle of something strong in your hand, just watching the city buzz at night. As you sat there watching the tiny people come home from their jobs to their loving families, you wondered if you could have had something like that with Wanda. Then you laughed as you remembered that she was probably wrapped up in the arms of Siri, taking another swig from the bottle, you got up and prepared for your next job.
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agostobuwan · 2 years
Text
dangerous beauty
~1100w, minor breathplay and knifeplay
steve and tony meet yet again, and this time, the circumstances are little bizarre but not quite
second part to crime of passion
--
There, in the hazy moonlight, is a pair of brown eyes staring back at him. They are familiar, full of trust and desire. He just doesn’t know if he deserves it.
Gently, he caresses his neck, so soft and so sweet underneath his fingertips. He squeezes, and he can feel every breath he takes, the subtle rise and fall in his chest growing more shallow the tighter he grips. And he knows. One wrong move, and he’d kill him.
Without so much as a blink, the hand transforms into a knife. It is sharp and beautiful and reminds him of the ones Natasha sharpens before she goes to bed. It looks stunning against his supple skin, the metal winking with every movement of the blade. He slides the spine of the knife along his jugular, and not once do those brown eyes appear with a flicker of fear. In fact, he shivers with desire underneath him.
It is that want that spurs him further, that encourages him to slide two fingers inside, exploring the wet warmth that surrounds him. His moans sound so sweet, and they may sound even better if he’s fucking him with the hilt of the knife. It is a dangerous thought he does not yet entertain. Maybe soon, but not quite yet.
He begs for more, soft chants of his name spilling from pillow soft lips. His brown eyes are hidden now, taking to closing them as he is spread open. A third finger joins the other two, opening him up further.
“Fuck me, Steve.”
BEEP BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP BE—
A hand shoots out from under the covers and slams down on the snooze button. Steve groans, his face smothered by his own pillow, as the vestiges of his own dream quickly dissipate from existence.
He sits up and tiredly rubs a hand over his face, wishing he can return to his over-imaginative subconscious.
“Shit,” he mutters, cock heavy and hard between his legs. He deals with it when he steps into the shower, quick and methodical. It’s been the second time this week he’s had a dream about that particular boy with brown eyes, and it’s not like he can try to get him out of his head either. Tony Stark’s face has been plastered all over every news outlet.
Ever since his father’s untimely death (read: murder), everyone wondered what was to come of the Stark heir. They all wanted a piece of him. CNN and MSNBC had panels upon panels about the future of Stark Industries, while FOX had detailed a very… unsavory version of Stark’s bohemian lifestyle, which Steve immediately shut it off.
It all came to a head when Obadiah Stane, Howard Stark’s main business partner, rose to the title of CEO, just weeks after the memorial service with Tony nowhere to be seen. Speculation spread like wildfire, and all anyone wanted to know was the young Stark’s whereabouts. Some wondered if he had followed his father’s footsteps and offed himself because he wouldn’t be able to handle the responsibilities of being the heir to Stark Industries. Others believed he moved back to Malibu or to a private island in the middle of nowhere to avoid any and all possible duties.
Steve is dead set to believe that none of it is true.
-
He is a stubborn son of a bitch, and he takes matters into his own hands.
-
“Remind us why we’re going back here again?” Clint asks as their car trundles down the street to the Stark Mansion.
“Steve wants to see if his boy toy is doing okay,” Natasha says, smirking from the passenger street.
“He is not my boy toy,” Steve says firmly, his fingers tightening around the wheel just slightly.
Of course, Natasha notices right away, and her smirk widens. “Right. So it wasn’t you obsessing over every news piece about Tony Stark?” she teases.
Steve chooses to ignore her and Clint, because even though they’re the people he could trust the most, they only cause trouble when they’re not doing any form of espionage.
“Okay. I get that Steve’s pretty much in love with Tony—”
“I am not.”
“—but why are we here?”
“Moral support,” Natasha answers breezily. “And also, Steve’s the brawn in our little rag tag team. If he tries to hack into a computer, his little brain might explode.”
“You know, I’m right here,” Steve deadpans.
“I know.”
The car parks in familiar ground. Steve stays in the car while Clint and Natasha work to make sure the man of the operation isn’t seen when he enters the building for the second time in three months. They return within ten minutes - a new record of theirs - and they climb into the car.
Natasha pats Steve’s arm and grins. “Get go ‘im, tiger. We’ll see you in the morning.”
-
Steve climbs through the second floor window that leads to the east wing, using the trellis as a makeshift ladder. He doesn’t know exactly where he should be looking, but something tells him that he’d be lucky if he goes to Howard Stark’s study. The place where it all began.
He knows the layout of the mansion like the back of his hand, and he’s standing in front of familiar oak doors within minutes. As he suspected, there is warm light spilling from underneath the crack of the door. He reaches for the door handle and finds that it’s unlocked.
The last time he was here he had murdered a man in cold blood. He hadn’t been nervous then, but he sure was nervous now.
He swings open the door, and the room hasn’t changed at all, save for the boy sitting on his late father’s plush desk chair.
He’s young, barely nineteen, but he commands the room of someone who is older, and Steve has the right mind not to immediately fall to his knees at his feet.
“It’s about time you came,” Tony purrs. “I was waiting for you.”
Steve watches, completely and utterly entranced, as the boy gets up from the chair and saunters towards the other side of the room where he stands rooted to the spot. He doesn’t flinch as a hand brushes gently against his bare face.
“You’re even prettier than I imagined,” Tony murmurs. He stares at Steve like he’s searching for something, like he’s some kind of puzzle to be solved, like he’s committing him to memory. His brown eyes trace over the lines of his face, following his fingertips as they brush against his jawline, his cheeks, his lips. “Too pretty to kill,” he adds thoughtfully.
Steve had never been scruntinized like this before, but he waits in silence for the other to make his move.
“So you came all this way to see me again,” Tony says, observant. “And yet, our clothes haven’t come off yet.”
Then, Tony flashes him a grin, and Steve already knows this kid is going to be the death of him.
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dennishater69 · 3 years
Text
bro i been thinking abt that (the one up there that one great post big fan) post theorizing that dennis is meant to be a twist on the “jim halpert” kind of a leading man thats standard on sitcoms. and how all the characters are like that yanno? historically successful, funny, and loved tv tropes put into an unforgiving and realistic world? like it’s even funnier when you think about how it’s almost as if the gang (ESP Den) /knows/ that they should be getting rewarded for all their antics and scheming. that’s what happens on tv. on tv jim knew from day one that he was the man for pam, he /knew/ he’d get her and (so) he /did/! he didn’t even have to try!! but in philly dennis “knows” that he’s the man for (caylee, mac, literally anyone) but it comes off as creepy not charming thus hes often rejected and humiliated.
dee is the female voice of reason (yeah ik the origin of kaitlins dee shut up let me talk), and yet her schemes and beliefs are just as titled as the boys. now look at this: lisa simpsons job wasnt to actually convince her dad or brother that their idea was dangerous. lisa’s job was to call attention to just how fucking stupid the male leads r. plus she’s a chick and implicit lesbo so she doubles as a punching bag. just like dee. cept dee isn’t super smart or musically inclined, the only thing she really has going for her is the gang. and the fact that she’s probably the best off in terms of not destroying her own life. which lets her have this unearned sense of superiority similar to dennis’ because she ~knows~ that she’s the voice of reason. what she doesn’t know is why even after she’s proven that that’s not who she WANTS to be anymore the guys still refuse to treat her like a real member of the gang even though she so obviously is. even tho the guys know she’s just as good (bad) as they are. lisa simpson, the chick from seinfeld, and lois griffin are all fine and good and are funny because deep down lois CHOSE to marry peter, lisa explicitly LOVES her family DESPITE their flaws. but dee is UNLOVED. there’s no point in her being there other than to contradict, not cos she necessarily wants to but the gang actively avoids giving her attention for anything else. so now you’ve got the voice of reason trope desperately trying to prove their own unreasonableness in an attempt to be liked. the boys resist. she acts up. they give her enough of a nod for her to stay for another drink. meanwhile the gang is getting into increasingly stupid and dangerous schemes because the voice of reason prefers not being shit on. almost like how a real person would react to being forced into that position. huh.
charlie and mac r sort of make up one; they’re the gang (ik ik) they’re dennis’ gang. the chandler and the other one. the “leading mans” sidekicks who are happy to go along with whatever plan, happy to let him get the girl, happy to remind him of how perfect he is when he’s down. (which obviously mac and charlie are NOT happy about ANY of that and HATE that dennis treats them like they are.) It’s also maybe important to note that usually the “leader” of the group is the one who brought the three friends together. dennis just crashed mac and charlie’s twosome one day and never left. mac and charlie support dennis but only out of annoyance or in macs case sometimes something deeper. either way, it’s out of trope. really they shouldn’t be able to function without dennis telling them how to. but at this point it seems like they’re better off without him around.
but charlie is also his own trope. Cause the thing is…charlie works as a lovable goofball, the slob with a heart of gold, socially awkward sure but deep down he wouldn’t hurt a fly. except. he would hurt a fly. he is a self-proclaimed “rat-basher”, hes the only character to explicitly say the n word, he stalks and assaults the waitress (her trope is p obvious. perfect girl that the loser drools over, she rejects him.) to the point of her actually breaking and agreeing to HAVE HIS KID (need a whole new post abt those beans jfc)
NOW. i ask you…what usually happens in tv shows with the charlie/waitress dynamic? typically i’d say that throughout the course of the show the audience realizes that the supposed “perfect girl” is actually a bitch and that it’s actually the unassuming, more natural looking, lead girl who should get together with the charlie character. depending on the show, maybe she’s the girl who’s been helping him chase his supposed dream girl. or she’s the girl who is, up until the big reveal, his lesbian-coded best friend who is SICK of hearing about this girl. or maybe shes just always been there, but he’s never considered her because they’ve been friends for so long, they’ve known each other since they were kids, maybe she isnt even on the table and she’s dating his friend, or she was dating his friend, or maybe…because she’s the sister of his friend. his friends TWIN sister. see where i’m going with this? it’s dee. dee and charlie are the b couple. the dwight and angela. they’re the obvious couple.maybe you didn’t see it at first but once it’s suggested you can’t unsee it. and when they DO get together. it’s like they always were. they’re the caring, devoted, consistent couple that the audience can lean on when things get messy in the other characters relationships. and yet. dee and charlie already DID get together. and apparently they hated it. hated it so much that charlie (the poor guy trope) wanted to stop and dee (girl next door trope) FORCES him to finish. not to mention neither of them seem all that interested in a caring consistent relationship. at least not with each other. why would they be?
and what would a B couple be without an A couple? but how do you even go about satirizing an A couple? they’re meant to stay in a “will they won’t they” for at least five seasons, and when they inevitably do get together it’s full of cheating and lying and breaks. cause thats what makes an A couple interesting to watch. they’re “meant to be” and yet still have to work through the issues that all relationships face. and if it’s a sitcom this is usually funny because all the audience and characters have ever wanted was for the A couple to be official, but now that they are there’s somehow even MORE conflict within the show. sound like anyone? macdennis. but dennis (leading man) wasn’t prepared for a SECOND leading MAN. no one ever told him he was going to be expected to share the limelight. he assumed he’d meet his girl and he would know and so would she and then she’d happily stand behind him forever. not next to him. she certainly wouldn’t ever try and step IN FRONT OF DENNIS. like mac does. now remember that none of the characters, except possibly dee, know that they are filling out a trope. but dennis is the golden god. of course he knows. and that is why he is or was or whatever actively ensuring that he and mac would never be together in a way that could potentially over shadow denniss “guaranteed” leading lady, and more importantly dennis. and even more important. leading men. are not. and have never. been gay. (debatable but i digress)
so a couple b couple who cares? i cares. cause taylor swift doesn’t rape the guy at the end of “You Belong With Me”. b couples exist as a more palatable A couple. meant to be without the drama. so this is extremely out of trope for chardee. yk what ELSE is out of trope? macs coming out. yeah we’ve all touched on how fucked that must’ve felt from dens pov but here’s the thing. by coming out, mac was able to confirm that the A couple, in fact, WILL. and most likely already HAVE. but he did this alone. he and dennis didn’t come out together, mac doesn’t think about dennis at all in find his pride, mac being gay is his. and that leaves dennis with…the knowledge that he and mac ARE the A couple. not only that, but apparently mac can satisfy that trope all by himself. macs outness is obnoxious. it’s like he’s bragging about it. showing it off. it’s how everything was, but. worse. he doesn’t even need anyone to do the annoying A couple stuff, the parade around, the delusion that no one could have possibly known. he doesn’t need dennis. but it’s pretty clear that at least some part of mac still WANTS dennis. and was expecting dennis to too. but that’s not real life. imagine you’re in a “will they won’t they” for DECADES and then, out of nowhere, ur partner says “yeah no we will.” and everyone believes them. they don’t even need to spare a glance at you because they’ve always kinda known and now thanks to “your other half” they always will know for sure. no matter what you do. now there’s an expectation.
and (full circle u guys) dennis’ trope doesn’t usually call for meeting expectations. he’s attractive and charming, he’s supposed to be able to coast until he looks up and realizes he gs everything he ever wanted. but now he’s 44. and he has everything he never wanted. his abusive (not)father is best friends and the father of? HIS highschool best friend, his other best friend is an asshole who is somehow an asshole abt: being gay, dennis being gay, being gay for dennis, dennis not validating that when he expected him to. and his sister, who has been firmly planted against him since they were kids. hes starving and he’s a legit alcoholic, the gross kind, and all he’s ever done is get a diagnosis that makes his friends treat him weird and abandon his son who is named after a stranger to everyone. and i’ll prolly make a king post abt it but dennis has been showing subtle signs of edging towards (another) extreme breaking point and idk what it’s abt (fingers crossed mac uwu ihatemyself )but i’m just saying that dennis’ mentality has kind of always directed the group in a direct way (whether dynamics, psyche, finances, lives, time, etc) so that’s innerestin
and so now i say the most cracked out part of the post. this theory is giving me untapped amounts of hope that the only way the show can end is with the gang finally settling and finding happiness or they all commit group suicide. and idk abt u but those are the only two endings i’m interested in seeing.
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lottiebagley · 3 years
Text
You belong with me- Oliver Wood
You're on the phone with your girlfriend She's upset, she's going off about something that you said 'Cause she doesn't get your humour like I do.
"She's infuriating," Oliver complains, throwing the quaffle just a little too hard at his best friend. She was a chaser and the pair often did drills even when practice was long over, it helped Oli calm down and being utterly enamoured with the boy she happily stayed behind, wanting to be around him.
"She's your girlfriend Oli," She reminds, tossing the quaffle back and smirking when in his distracted state he almost doesn't catch it
"I know that, and I really do like her. It's just hard, we don't have much in common," He admits with a sigh.
"But she's beautiful and..." she trails off, no matter how supportive she tries to be she doesn't really have any more positives to say about his girlfriend Harriet. Harriet was truly beautiful, the year above and a Ravenclaw. She had longs legs and perfect skin and golden curls.
Other than that she was kind of a bitch.
She knew she was beautiful and it was the only personality she really had. She was rude and harsh, often make snide remarks and overall a typical bitchy mean girl. If she didn't like someone she wasn't secret about it and as her boyfriends best friend who just so happened to be a girl, the Gryffindor was becoming the victim of most of this.
Oliver, of course, would never have stood for this, he simply didn't know. It was little comments that went over his head and remarks when he wasn't around, it was looks he was too busy to notice and it was slowly but surely pushing her further and further away.
"She just doesn't ever take anything as a joke,"
"She's just got a different sense of humour than you Oli, don't worry, with time you will grow and adapt to each others humour," she tries her hardest to smile and Oliver seems not to notice how upset she is. He nods sending her a smile that melts her heart feel like it's squeezing in her chest.
"You're right, you always are. I'm going to go find her and see if she wants to study. D'ya wanna come?"
"No. Thanks. I should go and find George, I promised I'd help him with some potions homework," she excuses herself far too quickly, turning on her heel and heading up towards the castle without him despite the fact they're both going. Leaving Oliver wondering why he feels so jealous that she is spending her evening with their teammate that she was undeniably close with.
I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night. I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like. And she'll never know your story like I do.
"You okay?" it's George's voice that seems to almost wake her up as she sits, pushing cereal around a bowl with her spoon.
"Do you think he notices?" she questions, George lets out a sigh, looking down the table at where Oliver is eating breakfast and chatting with Harriet, his eyes trained on her smile.
"He's stupid,"
"Y'know we haven't had breakfast together in three weeks. Lunch and dinner never mattered, we always ate with our group of friends. But breakfast, every morning since first year we got breakfast together and no one else comes, it's just us," She speaks in a tone that makes it clear to the ginger boy in front of her, the only one who knows of her feelings for her best friend, that her heart is slowly breaking.
"I'm sure he notices," George sighs, giving her shoulder a rub
"I don't know if that's better or worse," The girl admits, watching subtly as Oliver presses a kiss to his girlfriend's lips. "I'm going to class, I'll see you around George," she announces, standing from her seat and leaving towards her first class of the day even though it doesn't start for another 45 minutes. A feeling like she could be sick just sat the thought of him and her.
She doesn't know that Oliver immediately notices her leaving, to him it feels like the whole room feels a little colder, a little darker, like the sun itself just disappeared. He was almost used to the feeling, it meant she had gone. He looks up, noticing the bowl of cereal he had watched her pour 5 minutes before was untouched, grabbing an apple and throwing it into his bag to give her second period when he knew she'd be starving. His concern for only getting worse when she never shows to the lesson.
But she wears short skirts I wear T-shirts She's cheer captain And I'm on the bleachers Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find That what you're looking for has been here the whole time.
Oliver wasn't expecting her to show to practice that night, she hadn't eaten breakfast, she hadn't shown to any classes that he shared with her and she wasn't at lunch. He assumed she was ill, planning on checking on her after practise, he'd been busy with Harriet all day and hadn't had a chance to run to her dorm. So, he's mildly confused as she approaches the pitch, dressed in her quidditch robes and chatting happily to Angelina who was walking by her side.
"Hey love," he greets with a smile
"That is most definitely not me," Angelina smirks, slipping away to give the pair a moment of peace and privacy.
"Where were you all day?" he questions
"I just wasn't feeling great," she shrugs, in reality she had been avoiding classes shared with Oliver, the thought of him and Harriet a little too much to bare. She'd only come to practise because she thought she might get a minute alone with her best friend, desperate for his company, feeling further from him than she ever had before.
A quick glance around told her she wouldn't get this. Harriet is sat with her friends, dressed in a skimpy top and short skirt and clearly trying not to freeze. A dark and dirty glare aimed at the girl talking to her boyfriend. Making the girl feel uncomfortable and want to leave and be with anyone other than Oliver, after all she would never hear the end of it if she was with him too long.
"So, are you feeling better?" he questions gently, reaching a hand out to see if she feels warm. He tries to ignore the pang of hurt in his chest when she ducks away from his touch, shooting him a tight lipped smile.
"I feel fine now, so no need to go easy on me or anything," she informs attempting to make a joke but he can tell something is wrong with her, he just has no idea that it is him. She's walking away in the direction of Harry who is calling her over before he can question her any further.
The hour long practice feels off to Oliver. She plays well but she hardly looks at him. Only speaks to him when spoken to and only about quidditch. That would be fine if it was how she was with everyone, perhaps having a bad day or just tired but with every other player on the team she's her normal charming self.
His plan to catch her after practice is shoved aside when Harriet comes over and by the time Oliver can ask her to give him a minute before they go to his captain's office, his best friend is walking with the twins back up to the castle. With a sigh, Oliver decides to drop the whole thing, maybe tomorrow would be back to normal.
If you could see That I'm the one Who understands you. Been here all along. So, why can't you see You belong with me, You belong with me.
It kind of does fall back to normal. He watches her eat breakfast with their friend group and she's smiling and laughing, enjoying her waffles. He enters the Charms class room to see her talking happily with the Hufflepuff girl who sits behind them. Maybe it really was just an off day.
The slither of hope drops when her entire vibe changes as he drops into the seat next to her. There's no friendly hug good morning. There's no questions about how he slept and his day so far. A simple 'Hi Oli' before she's suddenly more interested in a Charms textbook than he's ever seen her before. Throughout the day and their shared classes he slowly manages to get through to her. From no chitchat to talks of quidditch to more personal chatter to their normal selves. Joking and laughing and utterly invested in the other.
She almost feels like this whole weird phase is over and everything is going to go back to normal, but when normally they would go and hang out with their friends in the common room after dinner he is heading to take Harriet to the astronomy tower and she's once again reminded that her best friend is slowly slipping away from her. That one normal day isn't going to replace the 4 months he's been drifting further and further away.
Oliver feels like his chest is on fire when he returns to the common room. She is no longer surrounded by their friend group. Instead she is sat with George, her head on his shoulder as he reads quietly to her by the fireplace. It wasn't long ago that it would be Oliver she would fall asleep in's arms and force to read to her, she would claim that she just loved his accent to guilt trip him into doing it and he would do it every time just to see her bright grin.
He tries to convince himself that the raging jealousy in his chest isn't that George and her may like each other. No. The jealousy he feels is because his best friend is doing best friend things, their things specifically, with someone other than him. He had Harriet. He was happy with Harriet. It just didn't help that the person she always seemed to be around now was tall and funny and good at quidditch and kind. It didn't help that they shared so many qualities because it made him feel like she could find a new Oliver and he knew he could never find someone who even compared to her. That is why he is jealous, he forces himself to say it in his head a few times to convince himself.
In reality nothing was going on between George and the girl. They had always been close friends, Oliver just never noticed how much time they spent together cause he was usually there too.
Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be. Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself, "Hey, isn't this easy?"
When word reached Oliver, through Percy Weasley of all people, which only rubbed salt in the wound, that she had gone on a date with Christian Ward, a boy from the year above, he couldn't help the spark of jealousy. He wondered why she hadn't even bothered to tell him, until he realised that they barely even saw each other anymore aside from in class.
So, when he saw her sat alone in the courtyard, nose in a book and enjoying the quiet he couldn't help himself from going over. He was only there because he was supposed to be meeting Harriet there but she was nowhere to be seen so he figured he had a minute.
"Hey angel," He doesn't quite understand why it hurts so much that she doesn't look up. Before now, if he called a pet name across a busy hall she would always look up, knowing it was meant for her, he supposed it was because recently they hadn't been and it hurt to know that the habit had been dropped from her life so quickly. Yes. That's what hurt. Not that he knew it was his fault. Not the thought of the first few times she would have turned around with that beautiful smile ready to greet him only to see his arms wrapped around someone else.
"Hey, I'm talking to you," he speaks gently, nudging her knee with his as he sits down next to her. He wonders why she springs away from his touch, not knowing about the threats and comments his own girlfriend had made towards her.
"Hi Oli," her smile doesn't reach her eyes
"What are you reading?"
"Little women," she shrugs with a small smile
"I've seen you read that book a thousand times and I have been forced to read it to you at least twenty," he teases
"It's a classic!" she defends. He knew the real reason it was a favourite of hers was that her and her sister used to read it together when they were kids. "Besides, you're attempt at doing voices was pretty incredible," she smirks, he laughs at the memory, speaking in a high pitched girly voice. He'd been trying to cheer her up after a hard day and he'd never heard her laugh as hard.
"I can't help being so masculine," he defends through a chuckle, thinking when she giggles that he couldn't remember the last time he was the reason behind her laughter. "So, heard you went out with Christian?" he question casually
"How'd you hear about that?" she asks, tilting her head to the side in curiosity making Oliver's heart melt.
"Percy," he shrugs. He doesn't say that Percy had told him when he was purposely pissing the prefect off, more as a way to get him to shut up than as friendly gossip. He also didn't feel like sharing that it had immediately worked.
"I forgot they do prefect rounds together," she comments
"How was it?" he questions
"Awful," she admits, he gives her a look of pity as she continues "He was just so stiff and the whole thing was awkward and it just felt so hard to talk to him," she admits. She doesn't add that it was the opposite of when she spent time with Oliver and everything felt so natural.
"When it's the right lad it'll be good and you will feel so at ease from that first moment that you will just know," Oliver comforts
"Is that what it's like with Harriet?" she questions. He feels uncomfortable.  When he had offered that advice his mind hadn't been on Harriet, it had been on her, on how natural it was with her. It shouldn't have been, they were best friend but they were nothing more and he needed to remember that.
"It could be, in the future," he settles for his response even though it's a lie. "Listen, angel, I know that recently I-" he's cut off by a sickly sweet voice.
"Baby, are you ready?" Harriet is calling from across the courtyard. He sighs, wanting to talk to his best friend and apologise for how shit of a best friend he had been recently.
"Go, it's fine. We can talk whenever," the girl assures. Oliver nods, giving her a smile and walking off to his girlfriend, stealing one last look at the girl on the bench, the setting sun creating a golden glow that made her seem so angelic he could have melted on the spot.
And you've got a smile That could light up this whole town. I haven't seen it in a while Since she brought you down. You say you're fine I know you better than that. Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?
"Is it just me or does Oli seem off recently?" she ponders the question to Ally and Josh, their friend groups only couple. Ally was her closest friend besides Oliver and had her suspicions the girl may be head over heels for the boy.
"How so?" Josh asks, looking up from the open potions text book in front of him
"Just quiet and I don't know how to explain it just not himself," she shrugs
"He's been normal with me," Josh shrugs, thinking for a second "A little quiet I guess but normal on a whole,"
"Right," she nods, so it really was just her.
"You are stupid Josh,"  Ally comments, laughing when he jokingly grabs his chest like she just stabbed him "He has been completely off, he barely cracks jokes anymore and he's stopped being stupidly cocky, he practices quidditch less and he is never smiling. Like ever,"
"Do you think it's about Harriet?" she asks the question timidly, what if everyone else thought they were a happy couple and it was just her undeniable jealousy.
"Nah, no one is depressed because they are dating a girl that fit. I mean have you se-" He cuts himself off when Ally shoot him a pointed look "Like me I would never be depressed over a girl because you, my love, are so incredibly beautiful," he clearly misread the look that screamed shut up, not realising Ally was trying to silence him because she could see her friend sinking slowly into herself.
"Maybe it's about how he is never with his best friend anymore," Ally smiles gently
"What do you mean?"
"Just that you guys have kind of drifted a little, that's probably what's getting him down," Ally explains.
It was true, they barely spoke anymore and although the girl cared so much for Oliver she was more than a little annoyed. What started with a small distance was becoming a great gaping hole and he barely bothered to notice it. He'd slowly began to drop her, sitting with different friends in classes,  speeding away from practice rather than staying late with her, not showing up for their Tuesday evening study sessions, not talking to her between classes, their best friend breakfasts, as Oliver used to call them with a stupidly wide grin, were a thing of ancient history.
She was annoyed. Annoyed that there was no doubt in her mind Harriet told him to distance himself from her. Annoyed that having been best friends for 6 years he was so ready to just toss her aside.
"That was his choice," The girl snaps, letting out a sigh "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. I've got to go, I have practice," she explains, standing up and grabbing her quidditch kit bag from the ground.
She wears high heels, I wear sneakers. She's cheer captain, And I'm on the bleachers. Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find That what you're looking for has been here the whole time.
"Hey! Wait up!" Oli's voice is calling and she knows it's directed at her. Straight after practice he had retired into his captain office and so she had taken her time in the locker room, not in a rush to escape the area for once as Harriet was no where in sight so she finally took the time to tidy her locker up a little. The twins had offered to wait but she insisted she was fine. Leaving her the only person here, the only person he could be talking to.
"Hi," she speaks quietly, a layer of nerves that she had never felt around the boy in front of her. Every single bone in her body wanted to ask him to hold her. Life without him felt so much harder and she was tired. she needed him but she felt like she couldn't even ask anymore.
"You were great out there," he praises
"Oh, thanks. I've been a little off my game recently, sorry about that,"
"Hey, you have always played exceptionally well. I'd have said something if I thought you weren't"
"You don't really say anything to me anymore Oliver," he cringes a little, she hadn't called him Oliver ever. Not when he blew a potion up in her face and left her with a large burn there for a month. Not when he threw a quaffle too hard at her and knocked her unconscious. Not when they were so angry at each other they were both screaming. The distance between them had never been so clear.
"Look, I know that I have been a really, really, shit best friend. Recently, I haven't prioritised us and I should, I always should, because you are the person I trust the most on this planet and I know this isn't ever going to make up for the last 6 months. I know nothing I can say will make all of it go away but I miss you, I really miss you, and I hate not having you around and please, please just come back to me," He almost looks like he's going to cry and without a second thought she flings her arms around him, he lets out a sigh of relief, feeling every muscle in his body relax for the first time in months as he wraps his arms around her, holding her head to his chest and breathing in her scent.
After a minute or two she lets go, pulling away from him again.
"So, do you wanna do some extra practice?" he questions with a grin, she beams, ready to nod and finally spend some time with her best friend.
But then she notices it. The door swings open and he tenses up, a look of pure horror on his face, spinning around as quick as possible only relaxing when he sees Harry in the door way.
"Sorry to interrupt, I forgot my school bag," He informs, grabbing the bag from the bench and leaving again.
A tense silence fills the room. Oliver turns back round, maybe she didn't notice. Maybe she wouldn't be mad.
"You thought it was Harriet?"
"Angel-"
"No. No you thought it was Harriet and I saw the look in your eyes. You were terrified she would see you talking to me. It's the same look as when she walks into the great hall and you were with our friend group even if you've ignored me the whole time. It's the reason I can under perform at practice and you say nothing cause she's watching, and don't lie cause George and I threw a practice just to see what happened and you shouted at him but me, nothing,"
"Of course you were doing it with him," he regrets the comment the minute he says it when she scoffs.
"I would forgive you for a lot Oliver. I really would, but I refuse to be your dirty little secret," She turns on her heel and storms away, leaving the boy staring after her and wondering how he would ever repair this.
If you could see That I'm the one Who understands you, Been here all along. So, why can't you see You belong with me.
Oliver's hand hammers on her dorm door, he hadn't seen her over the weekend, he assumed she was avoiding him, but with the news he just heard nothing was stopping him from speaking to her.
"One minute!" she calls out. Oliver ignores the way his heart swells at the sound of her voice.
She pulls the door open, clearly fresh from a shower, her hair still damp and only clad in a large tshirt and some sports shorts.
"What do you want?" She demands, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face. He pushes past her into the dorm, closing the door behind him.
"You quit the quidditch team," He tries to remain calm, not wanting to scream at her
"I did," she nods
"You didn't just quit, you broke protocol and went straight to the head of house rather than speaking to your captain,"
"Yeah, well my captain looks like he's been hit by a truck whenever he's seen in my general vicinity in public," she retorts
"Why the fuck would you quit the team?" He's furious, more at the fact he was loosing her than actually at her
"Because I can't be around you!" she shouts, unable to keep her temper down
"What are you talking about?" he questions, his heart sinking in his chest
"It kills me! Being around you physically hurts. Just seeing you creates this pain in my chest like I can't breathe. Seeing you so fine without me kills me Oliver! You were supposed to be my best friend and now you don't even look at me. You left me. I can't breathe because I don't have you anymore and you just seem so fine and it hurts, it really hurts!" She has tears streaming down her face as she shouts but she doesn't seem to care, he'd seen her in a worse state.
"What makes you think I'm so fine?" he demands
"If you weren't fine. If you felt even half as shit as I do then you wouldn't do it. You wouldn't ignore me."
"I have a girlfriend and I am trying to make it work and she doesn't like the way we are together. I'm saving my relationship you would do the same!"
"No! When I date a boy if he questions us for a second, if he asks me to distance myself from you I drop him. I drop him because I don't ever drop you. I couldn't do to you what you have done to me,"  Oliver's heart hurts because he knows that she's right. What he has done is the complete wrong thing.
"Rejoin the quidditch team. You love playing quidditch. Please, please don't let me ruin that for you,"
"I love quidditch, it's fun and exciting and it makes me feel free. But I only ever joined the team because you asked me to try out with you. I love quidditch because it was time we spent together,"
"You are making a mistake,"
"I can't be there. I can't be around you anymore because it hurts me too much. So, captain, respectfully I quit the team, if you are wondering I think you should put Katie Bell on in my place, she's you best alternate by a mile and she works hard. Now, please leave me alone,"
Standing by and waiting at your backdoor. All this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me, You belong with me.
"I hate Oliver Wood," Fred grumbles, dropping into the seat next to the girl in the common room. She's sat in her workout clothes, planning on going for a jog but had got distracted by her a conversation with Ally who returned to her essay at Fred's arrival.
"Why?" she questions, turning to the ginger boy who is covered in mud and slightly sweaty, clearly fresh from his quidditch practice.
"He's even worse now you're gone. He made us do fitness drills for 45 minutes, I'm sorry what sane person asks someone to do burpees and run laps for 45 minutes. And he's so aggressive, I mean shouts at everyone. All the time. Seriously, poor Harry's glasses fell off and you'd think the boy murdered Oliver's mother. He's in a foul mood," Fred complains.
She can't help but feel a little bad, she knew Oliver like the back of her hand. If he was upset rather than processing it he would simply try to ignore it. He would take his anger out on others.
"Chin up, he'll get better," she smiles, patting Fred's shoulder before leaving the common room.
She exits the castle into the warm evening, summer truly beginning.  She starts jogging her usual route and if she had thought for even a second she wouldn't have. She would have turned left in the direction of the greenhouses and not right, in the direction of the quidditch pitch. She could have guessed he would be there, if he was as frustrated as Fred claimed it's the only place he would be.
She sees him and her heart breaks a little. He's alone. Beating a bludger around, something he doesn't need to practice, as he never needs to do it, but often does when he wants to relieve some anger.
He sees her, jogging the route they've ran together a hundred times. Her hair thrown back and her sports shorts poking out of the baggy t-shirt she is wearing. Distracted looking at her and not thinking about the bludger racing towards him.
"Oli, duck!" she shouts, he reacts quickly, plummeting to the ground at her demand, hearing the whizz of a bludger snipping past him, it would have hit him in the head if she hadn't warned him. He lets out a sigh, looking up to thank her to see she's turned around and is sprinting off towards the castle. He could cry, watching his best friend so desperate to escape his company.
Oh, I remember you driving to my house In the middle of the night. I'm the one who makes you laugh When you know you're 'bout to cry. I know your favourite songs, And you tell me about your dreams. Think I know where you belong, Think I know it's with me.
It's two weeks later when they next see each other. Oliver knocks on the door to the 6th year girls dorms, cringing a little when it's pulled open by Ally.
"What do you want?" Ally demands, closing the door behind her so the girl can't hear.
"Is she here?"
"No. Your precious girlfriend is in her own dorm,"
"You know that's not who I mean," Oliver sighs, it's only then that Ally notices his eyes look a little red and puffy.
"Fine, but if she tells you to leave you do so instantly," Ally sighs, feeling bad and knowing they both wanted each other back. Oliver nods and pushes through the door as Ally leaves.
"Who was it?" The girl questions, not turning around from her desk
"Uh, me," he's nervous. She turns around an angry look on her face but softens when she immediately notices that he is on the brink of tears.
"Oli, what happened?" she questions, standing from her desk and approaching him tentatively, leaving a respectful distance between them.
"Well," he sighs, "I had a fight with Harriet. She always said she didn't like us being friends and all and I should have stopped her right there, but, it's just that I really thought I liked her and I didn't want to ruin it and she never actually spoke badly of you. But then today she started talking about you and she was so rude and I just, I couldn't handle it, so I snapped and shouted at her and, well, I don't think I have a girlfriend anymore,"
She sighs, not really sure what to say. Yes, he had defended her but now he was crying over loosing Harriet.
"Look, Oli, don't get too upset. Go and apologise and she'll be stupid not to take you back,"
"I'm not upset, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in nearly 7 months,"
"Then why are you crying?" She asks, sitting down on her bed and patting the spot next to her. He sits immediately.
"Because I hate myself. I treated the most important person in my life like absolute shit and now I'm running back to you and it's not fair on you. I hate that I hurt you, god I'd kill someone for hurting you as badly as I did,"
"It's okay," she sighs, reaching out to grab his slightly trembling hand. He uses his other hand to roughly wipe his tears from his cheeks.
"No. No it's not. Shout at me or slap me or ignore me," he demands
"Honestly Oli, I just want my best friend back," she admits.
"I'm still you best friend?" he questions timidly
"You're stuck with me Wood," she grins
"I wouldn't have it any other way," he admits, opening his arms out and unable to stop himself from smiling when she climbs into them.
"If anyone asks-"
"You didn't cry," she finishes, he laughs at how well she knows him. "Wouldn't want anyone questioning how strong and manly you are," she teases
Can't you see That I'm the one Who understands you? Been here all along. So, why can't you see You belong with me.
They lay on her bed. Oliver on his side to face her and her head turned to look at him properly, catching up on everything they missed in each other's lives.
"So, what's going on with you and George?" Oliver questions
"What are you talking about?"
"You guys are dating now," he shrugs, trying not to seem jealous. She bursts out laughing, making Oliver look at her in confusion.
"Where in the world did you get that?"
"Fred told me after practice," he seems truly baffled, only getting more confused when she laughed more.
"We aren't dating. Fred was annoyed at all the fitness drills and was trying to piss you off as revenge,"
"So you guys aren't even like seeing each other?"
"Oli, he is two years younger than us, obviously I am not seeing George," she laughs a little and he realises the relief he feels is because he is utterly and completely in love with his best friend. The realisation hitting him like a truck.
"About practice, you going to come back because we need you at this game against Slytherin on Saturday or we will lose?"
"I'd be honoured," she grins.
Standing by and waiting at your backdoor. All this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me, You belong with me. You belong with me.
Oliver has his arm wrapped around his best friend's shoulder, two weeks later when he sees Harriet for the first time since the break up. He immediately tenses when he hears her let out a snicker.
"It's embarrassing really that she took him back," Harriet speaks snidely to her friends.
"What did you just say?" Oliver demands, spinning around to face her.
"Leave it Oli," the girl attempts to pull her best friend away but he doesn't listen.
"She is pathetic. You were so whipped you dropped your own best friend and the minute we break up she just takes you back into her life like nothing happened,"
"Well, if she's pathetic what does that make you given that you were so jealous of her," Oliver snaps, his voice low.
"If you think for a second I was jealous of her than you're fucking stupid,"
"Harriet, the whole school knows you were,"
"Why would I ever be jealous of that?" she questions, her eyes looking the girl up and down
"Because she is 10 times the person you will ever be. Because she is kind and funny and smart and beautiful. Because you can't hold a fucking candle to her!" Oliver shouts, aware of the crowd watching them.
"She is pathetic and desperate,"
Oliver doesn't react in the way she expects. She expects him to shout an insult and storm away tugging her along with him.
Instead he pulls her flush against his chest and slams his lips to her. He kisses hard, pulling her impossibly close to him and putting every ounce of love he feels for her into it. She kisses back, melting at his touch and certain if it wasn't for his hands holding her up her legs would give way.
She pulls away breathless and vaguely hears the Weasley twins starting out some loud chants and cheers but her entire mind is focused on Oliver.
"An interesting way to get her to shut up,"
"Well, I've been meaning to kiss you for a while so I figured two birds one stone,"
"So it wasn't just to get her to shut up?" she questions, seemingly insecure and shy.
"No, it was more because I've been in love with you for years and I never realised" he grins
"What a happy coincidence that I'm in love with you too," she smiles
"How could you not be?" he teases, smirking when she wraps her arms round his neck and tugs him down so his lips are on hers once more.
Have you ever thought just maybe You belong with me? You belong with me.
**
Masterlist
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saphirered · 3 years
Note
I thought this would be an interesting twist: After the failed ritual, what if Lucien's s/o ran into Molly? Thank you!
Okay so this one came out quicker than I expected 😅. Little 'twist' at the end because I could not help myself. I hope you enjoy it! 😘
You warned him. You warned him so many times but he wouldn’t bloody listen. Too caught up in his own game for power, never satisfied. But what were you supposed to do? Stop him? No, you’d never. You loved him more than that but you were not prepared to follow him to his own death. Lucien, you idiot how could you? You tried everything but he didn’t come back. The ritual failed. You didn’t want to uphold your part of the bargain. You knew this mage had ulterior motives and after being granted a peak of those pages she wouldn’t back down.
The woman wanted it all for herself and Lucien stood between her and that power the Eyes of Nine had to offer. Knowing the Tombtakers would follow Lucien to the extremes they would also accept the risks of this ritual and would be content but disappointed should it fail. With what you had seen you knew it shouldn’t fail. You had warned Lucien of your suspicions but his own arrogance made him blind to the consequences of this all. He wouldn’t listen and you were becoming an obstacle so when the ritual was to go down you weren’t there.
Lucien has slipped away from your warm embrace in the dead of night to perform the ritual and of course Vess messed with it, assuring he wouldn’t be able to return to his body therefor as per the agreement, she’d take the book as payment. It was too late when you found him, already dead. No amount of healing or revivification could bring him back to you. You had to accept that but you could enact revenge on the bitch that took him away from you. You’ll have her wishing she was the one in a shallow grave instead.
The Tombtakers diverged, finding their own paths. Cree tried to take you with her but you wouldn’t. You had your own task to complete. After that you could rest. Making the arrangements, finding allies where you could, earning and cashing in favours from anyone of power or resources you could left you with quite the arsenal at your disposal but you couldn’t just walk into the capital of the Dwendalian Empire and murder one of the archmages of the Cerberus Assembly. You had to be patient, lay low and let everyone think you moved on.
Still you visited the grave whenever you could. There was a comfort in the hope that maybe, wherever he was he could hear you. Lucien would probably scold you for going on a revenge path against one of the most powerful magic users on the continent all by your lonesome. He’s one to talk. Nevermind, you told him about your adventures, and hoping to acquire the resources to attempt to bring him back. You won’t give up hope.
Then you returned, returned to find the grave empty. You followed the tracks but they lead you nowhere. You had to find him. You had to find Lucien before anyone else did because what might they do? What state would he be in? Does this mean he’s already ascended? Would this mean he’d truly fully become the Nonagon for once and for all? But most of all, you just want him back in your arms knowing he’d be safe. You’d scour Exandria to find him.
There you are standing in a dark alleyway, hood blocking direct view of your face as you’re quite literally in the middle of a back alley deal. You’re no stranger to the shady business and shady people can most often be found in these places. You pay your contact in exchange for the information your requested, satisfied with the results. You hear commotion on the main street. Guards. Parting from your contact you wait for the guards to pass. That’s when you notice a lavender tiefling bolt past you. A very familiar lavender tiefling.
Confusion, relief, heartache, panic, happiness, disappointment, a wave of emotion hits you in a way you’re not even sure how you’re supposed to feel at this point. Many questions accompany those feelings. What are you supposed to do? Well, go after him of course! If Lucien’s back and he’s being chased by guards, that’s not a good thing for the current situation. Sticking to the shadows you trail along. Lucien may just have lost his touch but perhaps the city is an unfamiliar one to him and alone, he doesn’t know the way. The tattoos are new, so are the rather colourful clothes but you know he never does anything without reason.
You figure out where he’s going, the direction at least and from your own past encounters here you know the side alleys. You take a path that should have you end up ahead of him. You’ll have to take a few rooftops and private yards but it’s the quickest and you’ve done it plenty of times. Once you get in place you take off your cloak, get ready. You hear the guards shouting for reinforcements. The closer he gets from around the corner you can see the smug grin filled with mischief as he runs. You’ve missed that one.
The moment comes and you grab onto him as he passes pulling him into the alley with you, wrapping your cloak around him and pulling the hood up. Hands on both sides of his face you look at him closely. There’s confusion in his eyes as they focus on you. He’s already out of breath but you pull him into a deep kiss. Lucien hits the wall behind him and readjusts the hood of the cloak to keep his face covered. The response to the kiss only comes with the sound of the guards drawing near and is very confused. The guards pass by. They glance into the alley but awkwardly turn back to following the street upon seeing the two of you together.
As soon as they’re gone Mollymauk breaks away from you. He’s breathing heavily more from the run than the kiss you shared. He’s very confused. Indifferent to being kissed by a stranger, this… unexpected to say the least. He’s got no idea who you are but you saved his ass so you’re alright in his books at the moment. That doesn’t mean he’s not wary of you. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you know him, or well whoever he used to be and with the conflicting emotions running through you he’ll have to think fast to spin his bullshit correctly.
“You have no idea how happy I am you’re alive. Does this mean it worked after all? Did you succeed?” You run your thumbs over Lucien’s cheekbones as he holds onto your wrists lightly. The pressure in your chest grows heavier as you await his answer.
“It did. I did. It didn’t go as planned but I’m here now.” Molly works his charm like his life depends on it because he entertains the thought it might. Your touch, there’s something eerily familiar about it, akin to being reminded of a distant long forgotten dream. Hazy but it feels real. He still has no idea who you are and there’s no bells ringing either. While he much rather run far away avoiding any and all connections to a past not his, he cannot help but commend whoever came before him. The one that got buried definitely had a good taste in lovers? Friends? Molly’s not going to assume even though you kissed him quite passionately.
Your chest clenches and it feels as if your breath won’t leave your body, your blood stopping in your veins, like you got hit by an extra dimensional force attempting to pull everything away from you. You listen to Lucien’s words. It looks like him but why do you feel like you hear someone else? It’s not an illusion or some trick you’re sure. If it were your enemies would have known to pick a better imposter and you’d have been dead already. Your own mind fights against this train of thought, justifying it. Lucien had been dead for weeks until you found the empty grave. Of course there were bound to be side effects or even consequences to the ritual. But then again, it had been two years since then. Two years to recover from whatever happened…
“You don’t know me, do you?” Speaking the words out loud breaks your heart. You don’t fight the pain they cause. There’s no tears. You’ve already grieved Lucien once. You’re not doing it again. This will be nothing more than a painful reminder, a cruel joke from the gods behind the divine gate. Why must the fates torture you so for nothing more than loving an ambitious man reaching for the stars and beyond?
“No. I’m sorry.” Molly can’t help but feel your pain. It’s clear you cared a great amount about his predecessor, the way you speak reveals intense heartbreak at the passing of that one. It also shows acceptance that whoever he used to be is gone and you’ve come to terms with that a while ago. That’s enough for him to recognise you won’t hurt him. Molly had never felt sorry for the death of who he used to be and he won’t start now but he does feel sorry for you. This whole situation is messed up.
You close your eyes and nod, dropping your hands and take a step back. No matter how much your heart may tell you to be close to this tiefling, your mind knows it’s not Lucien. You cannot in good conscious hang onto whatever remains. It’s not fair you him, to Lucien but most of all not fair to yourself. Do you wish it was Lucien standing here in front of you? Of course you do. You’d do anything to get him back but what would directing all your pain achieve directed at this new person in the same body? It would accomplish nothing but more pain. You can’t imagine this tiefling in front of you doesn’t have any friends, loved ones, people who care about him. You weren’t going to put you don’t know how many others through the same pain you’ve been put through.
“I am as much of a ghost of the past to you as you are to me.” You’ve come to the conclusion that based of his responses there may not be any recognition, there is an unknown familiarity to you on his end. Perhaps the final slivers of Lucien remaining but nothing more than a fleeting memory. A hand reaches out for yours. You allow him to take your hand and he rubs circles in the back of it with his thumb in an attempt to bring you some comfort. It’s a gesture out of kindness. Not out of selfish intent or with the expectancy to get something out of it, like Lucien would when faced with a stranger he clearly had the upper hand over.
“You seem to have cared for my predecessor, Lucien, quite a lot. I truly am sorry.” You offer him a saddened smile as a silent thank you. He knows Lucien’s name so he must have learned something of the past. You gather it hasn’t been much and most definitely is second hand knowledge by his lack of information on the ritual, who he used to be, everything really.
“You know his name?” The sentence is voiced somewhere in between a question and a statement.
“A blood cleric named Cree. She ran into us-me and mistook me for him. I played along but I don’t think she really bought it. She didn’t reveal much.” The name of the tabaxi alone is enough to make your blood boil. If Cree had known for however long, why hadn’t she gotten in contact with you? You know exactly why and are debating wether or not you could do with a new fur rug. You also acknowledge that Cree is a risk and this new-not Lucien will have to watch his back.
“Since you’re not Lucien nor do you seem to be using that name, what do I call you?”
“Mollymauk Tealeaf or simply Molly to my friends.” The tiefling-Mollymauk smiles at you, a genuine smile. You have to appreciate the small gestures of comfort and kindness.
“I would give you my own name but for both of our sakes I won’t. You may refer to me as an old friend. I know I have no right to but may I ask you a favour?”
Mollymauk nods. As always he leaves a place better than he found it, tries to bring joy and happiness wherever he can even if that means making a fool of himself. Very few times has he been faced with someone who needs his help as much as you do. While there’s definitely limits to what he can provide, you deserve some compassion. Especially after the shitty cards life had dealt to you. He’ll try to ease that if he can.
“May I- May I ask you to tell me about your life, Mollymauk?” Not the request he expected. Then again, to be fair he didn’t really know what to expect. A kiss maybe? Stick along for a while? Perhaps even a final goodbye so you could close this chapter once and for all? But of all the things you asked about him. Not Lucien. Him.
“It’s a long story…” Molly drifts off reminiscing the wild ride of the past two years, especially the events of the last few months upon joining the Mighty Nein and the adventures they had already gone on; were currently on but if you really wanted to hear all about that, he’d tell you.
“I have plenty of time. How about we walk and talk? Get you back to your traveling companions? Your friends? And if there’s still plenty more to tell, if you want to you can tell me over a few drinks. My treat.” You feel within yourself you’d better be able to let go knowing this Mollymauk is happy and lives content. Lucien might be gone but Mollymauk deserves a good life free of Lucien’s burdens. You’ll do what you can to assure that.
“Never tell a story for free. That sounds like a good deal.” Molly offers you his arm and when you hesitate, expects you not to take it but to his surprise you do. There’s something strangely comforting about the whole ordeal. You’re both strangers to each other but it still feels like you have known each other for years.
On your way to where Mollymauk is staying he feels no need to hold back or deceive and instead tells you what happened to him; how he woke up, dug himself out of a grave and was found by a kind man, joined the circus, became a fortune teller, made friends along the way, found a family, many tales of the mischief he was up to, leaving every place better than he found it. You had some good laughs and were able to ask some questions throughout. All in all you came to the conclusion Mollymauk’s life hasn’t been an easy one but it was a good one and he was happy.
Then he found this group of strangers in a tavern somewhere in Trostenwald. His old family was torn away in the wreckage of a devil toad but he found a new one in these strangers. The Mighty Nein. Their time together has been but a few months but they already feel like family and he’d do anything for them. They might be assholes but they’re good people.
You got to meet them. Molly- as he keeps insisting because you are his friend now, introduced you to this Mighty Nein as he thought it best you heard some of these stories from their mouths too for the sake of perspective. He introduced you to them as such; an old friend from the past. The details were left blurry but Molly’s confidence was enough to leave them at the very least accepting and not mistrusting you. They shared their stories with you. They needed him. They may have come far from the assholes they were, but they still had a ways to go. You knew you could not tear that away from him nor did you feel right to join them, even if temporarily.
It’s time for you to say goodbye. You bid your farewell to the Mighty Nein and while they would ask you to stay just a little longer, you know you cannot. You will not insert yourself into their lives based on the merits of your own lies and life. They are free so let them be free. Molly walks you out so you may have one final conversation before you leave his world behind you.
“You don’t have to go yet. They enjoy your company and honestly, they could learn a thing or two from you.” Molly offers as you stand outside of the tavern, the sky since having grown dark and the stars out. The air is cool, winter is drawing near, before you know it the frost will stick to the ground and you’ll be back in Shadycreek plotting the demise of a certain Cerberus Assembly member. You’ll have to leave this all behind.
“You know I can’t. For all of our sakes.” You offer Molly a smile. You’re happy with what you got to see, the stories you were told but this is where it ends and that’s okay. Molly knows it too. Sometimes it’s better to let go than to hang on. You have your own life just as he has his.
“So I guess this is goodbye then.” Molly takes hold of both of your hands and squeezes lightly before he pulls you in for a hug. You return the embrace. Pulling apart enough to look him in the eyes you stroke his cheek, tracing the tattoos fanning up his neck and jaw.
“I am still but a ghost of the past. A ghost I will remain. I wish you a good life, Mollymauk Tealeaf. May we one day meet again.” You kiss his cheek and despite the appearance of Lucien, it doesn’t feel the same. Despite how it may sound, you’re happy it doesn’t. You step out of Molly’s arms.
“May we meet again.” The words Molly speaks are like a breath upon the wind as you walk backwards, one final look at the lavender tiefling as you blend into the darkness, fading like a ghost.
There may be many more things Molly would like to ask you. He’d like to get to know you and the thought that maybe one day he might, sounds like a good day in his mind. You have your own business to take care of first but maybe one day you will meet again. For now a ghost of the past he doesn’t recall you will remain…
——————
But a few months later you find your way back on the road to Shadycreek Run. There you found a grave marker along the Glory Run Road… The marker held a colourful ostentatious red coat embellished to the nines. It appears to have been left to the weather for some time but you recognise it. Hit with a sense of dread you approach the grave already knowing who it belongs to. The least you can do is pay your final respects to the friend you never got to know more.
You dismount your horse guiding it the reins closer to the marker. That’s definitely Molly’s coat. There’s no denying that now. You walk further up the hill offering a silent prayer to the Moonweaver who Molly admitted to being a follower of.
Approaching the grave you see it dug up. You expect grave robbers, thieves of some kind as you brush your fingers over the fabric of the coat. You get a glance of the grave and see it empty instead. Not robbed; empty. No body, nothing but the marker and the coat. Down the other side of the hill you see a figure, a lavender tiefling, tapestry draped around him watching the skies. The back is turned to you so the tiefling doesn’t see you. A wave of both relieve and dread washes over you as you are met with your own ghost of the past.
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nothingbutimagines · 3 years
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The Set Up (Tom Holland)
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Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Warning: Cursing, mentions of drug use, sibling bickering, a bit of angst
Summary: When Y/n comes back home for the holiday season to visit family after another long semester at Uni, her family takes it upon themselves to invite her old crush, Tom, to Christmas dinner in the hopes of setting the two up together. 
Author: Dizzy
A/N: Oh geez, Christmas is approaching very quickly! Hope you all have been able to get all your Christmas shopping done (I know I haven’t)! Tomorrow is going to be a cute little Harrison Osterfield fic, so keep your eyes peeled, and today is Tom Holland as well as a few other fics I hadn’t gotten the chance to put together until today since I fell ill for a few days. 
Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist
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“Y/n, what are you wearing?” Your mother asked, causing you to turn away from the plate of cookies you were eating off of. 
“Uh, a hoodie and jeans?” You muttered, your statement sounding more like a question as you paused, mid bite.
“Are you really wearing that to dinner tonight? We’re going to the steakhouse.”
“I mean,” You swallowed, “I have a sweater on underneath.”
“What happened to that cute little dress I left for you on your bed?” 
“Mom, no one else is wearing a dress. Why would I?” You asked, brushing your hands off before sighing. “Lucy and Charlie are wearing sweaters and jeans too.”
“Your sisters are younger, they’re hard to get into dresses.”
“They’re 16 and 18. Not that young.” You argued. “I’m not wearing a dress. It’s just dinner with the family. You, me, Dad, Lucy, Charlie, and David. And you have all seen me at my ugliest.”
“Well, what if you run into someone you’re interested in?” Your mother asked, following you closely as you walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway. 
“Like who? Tom?” You scoffed. “Mom, I know you love Tom, but I don’t. And I know you want me to get a boyfriend, but this is getting ridiculous. Last Christmas you set me up on a date with Ms. Chasten’s nephew and now you���re telling me to pick up a guy at a restaurant?” 
“No, I wasn’t saying Tom. I know you said you no longer have a crush on him, but I’m just saying, what if you see a man you might want to date? Wouldn’t you want to look your best?”
You turned around, placing a hand on your mother’s shoulder as you smiled at her warmly. “Mom, I love you, but I’m not going to get a boyfriend just because you want me to. And I’m sure as hell never seeing Tom again, as much as I know you’d like me to.”
“Are you two ready to get going? We have a reservation to get to.” Your father interrupted, pulling his coat tighter around him. 
“Yeah, yeah. Let me get my coat on.” You pushed past the two, making your way to the door and grabbing your coat off the rack. 
You quickly pulled your hoodie over your head, hanging it up in place of your coat before pulling your coat over you. You quickly wrapped a scarf around your neck as the rest of your family began congregating by the door. 
“I thought you were going to wear a dress.” Lucy stated, looking up at you as you followed everyone out the door. 
“No, I wasn’t. Why is everyone trying to bully me into wearing a dress?” 
Lucy shrugged. “Maybe it’s because you’re ugly.”
“You’re ugly.” 
“No, I’m not. If anyone is the ugly, it’s David.”
“I heard that.” David grumbled as you piled into the car. “And for the record, if anyone is the ugly one it’s you, Luce. That’s just because you have a bad attitude and make unfunny tik toks.”
“I thought you said you liked my tik toks!” 
“I lied.” David stated, turning back around in his seat, now facing forward.
You laughed as he turned, only to receive a small pinch on your arm from Lucy, who was pouting beside you like a child. 
“Ow! That hurts, you brat!” You gasped, pushing her away and knocking her into the side of the car. “Luce, you’re like 16, cut it out!”
“And you’re like 21 but I have a boyfriend and you don’t!” 
“That’s not even a valid argument in this conversation.”
“I know, I was trying to be a bitch.” 
“You’re already a bitch. You don’t even have to try.” David interrupted, turning back around to face you both. 
“Dad! David called me a bitch!” Lucy whined as you rolled your eyes, gazing into the eyes of your younger brother who had the same expression on his face.
“David,” Your father gazed back into the rear view mirror, “it’s not polite to talk about other people’s shortcomings.” 
You started to laugh loudly, giving your younger sister a shove as the car slowed to a stop in the restaurant parking lot. 
“I hate you all.” Lucy pouted, shoving you back as you all climbed out of the car. 
“I can’t believe I still have to say this,” Your mother shook her head as you all walked into the lobby of the restaurant, “be on your best behavior, all of you, okay?”
“Hey!” Charlie spoke up, making you realize you had forgotten she was even there. “I didn’t do anything!”
“I didn’t say anyone did anything, I am just reminding you all that this is a very special evening, okay?” 
You nodded, still chuckling as you glanced over at your brother, who still had the same smirk on his face as he had in the car. You followed the group along with the hostess to your table, taking a seat before realizing there was an extra place setting beside you. 
“Oh, uh, I think there’s a mistake here.” You waved the hostess over. “There should just be six place settings.”
The hostess frowned slightly, confused. “Oh. I thought the reservation said seven people.” 
“It did.” Your mother interrupted. “The other guest will be here shortly, thank you.”
You watched the hostess nod and walk away. You turned back to your mother, furrowing your brows as you looked at her, confused. 
“I’m sorry, who else is joining us?” You asked, the confusion evident in your tone. 
“Tom!” Your mother smiled, her line of sight leading above you as you followed it, to come face to face with the boy she was referring to. 
“Hello, Mrs. L/n, and everyone else. Sorry I’m a bit late, there was some traffic.” Tom explained shyly, slipping his coat off and hanging it on his chair as he took a seat beside you. “Hi, Y/n.” 
“Hi, Tom.” You nodded at him as the inner turmoil had begun to stir in the back of your mind. 
“Oh, honey, don’t worry about it, we were just seated.” Your mother waved, almost as if she was apologetic herself. “I’m just glad you could make it.” 
“I think I’m going to go to the bar to get something to drink.” You announced, rising from your seat as you grabbed your small purse. “David, why don’t you come with me?” 
“Oh, I don’t think I’m all that thirsty.” 
“I wasn’t asking.” You muttered, giving him a look as he rose from his seat, now following you away from the table and in the direction of the bar. 
“Before you say anything-”
“How could you not have told me Tom was coming?” You snapped, causing the younger man to flinch.
“Uh.” David averting your gaze, trying to find something to say.
“Since when do you keep secrets?” 
“Since when do you cower at the sight of men?” David retorted, taking a seat on a bar stool as you followed in suit.  
“You didn’t answer my question.” 
“And you didn’t answer mine.” He huffed. “Ladies first.” 
“Ugh, fine.” You groaned, rolling your eyes. “I cower at the sight of Tom since he came with to drop me off at uni last year.” 
“Why? I thought that went really well.” 
“No, it didn’t. You were high the entire trip anyway, I doubt you remember it at all.”
“Wait, so you didn’t share a kiss with Tom?” He asked, scratching his head. “Cause I didn’t think that was a weed hallucination, but now I’m not sure.”
“No, I did kiss Tom. But, that’s not the problem.” You shook your head. “I kissed Tom outside my building when you and Charlie were still packing up the car, which is why you remember seeing that, but then I ran off before he could say anything because it was obvious how he felt about me by the way he reacted to the kiss.”
“The way he reacted? What does even that mean? Like he didn’t kiss back?” 
“Uh, yeah. Not at all. So I ran off and avoided his texts and calls forever and I haven’t talked to him since because it’s embarrassing.”
“Don’t you think maybe he didn’t kiss back because he was in shock?” David suggested, letting you think for a moment as he turned away to order a few drinks. 
You thought for a moment, unsure of your own memories from the trip. You could only remember small portions of events, such as smoking with your siblings and Tom, Tom pulling you aside to talk, and you kissing him. You paused, going back to the earlier memory of Tom asking to talk to you. What was he wanted to talk about? You couldn’t remember and didn’t get the chance to dig around your own thoughts as David snapped his fingers at you. 
“Hey, earth to Y/n. I got our drinks, let’s get back before Mom sends a search and rescue team.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” You got up from your seat, drink in hand as you followed him to the table and took your seat beside Tom. 
“Y/n,” Tom glanced over at you, a bright smile on his face, “your mother was just telling me you got on the Dean’s list?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, placing your drink down on the table and placing your napkin in your lap, attempting to avoid eye contact. 
“It’s not that great, I mean, as long as you get over a 3.5, you’re on the list.” You explained, shrugging it off. 
“No, no, that’s way cooler than anything I’m doing. I mean, I’m just an acting major. You’re doing what? Pre-med?”
“Pre-law.” You corrected. “Pays about the same and is not as much schooling. But, acting sounds really cool. Sounds more fun.”
Tom shrugged. “I guess. I mean, I’m taking this improv class and it’s absolutely the worst thing I could’ve taken.”
“Oh! I take improv at school!” Charlie chimed in, excitedly bouncing in her seat. 
“Oh yeah?” Tom raised a brow, taking a drink from his glass before setting it down beside yours. “Maybe after we have dinner, you can show me some of your skills.”
Charlie shook her head. “I never said I was any good.”
The table erupted in a bout of laughter as you gave a small chuckle, your mind elsewhere while you picked up your glass, taking a drink of it. 
“Uh, I think that’s mine.” Tom leaned over, his breath hot on your ear as he spoke lowly. 
You choked on the drink a bit, coughing slightly as you set the glass down and looked at him apologetically. 
“Shit. Sorry.” 
“It’s alright. It’s not like we haven’t exchanged spit before.” Tom stated coolly, smirking slightly.
“I don’t backwash into drinks.” You retorted, attempting to not acknowledge his last statement fully. 
“I don’t know, you might.” Tom said, picking up the glass and swirling it around with his hand, pretending to inspect it. 
“Well, if you’re so worried, I’ll buy you another drink.”
“Oh, I’m not worried, but if you’re offering another drink, I will gladly take it.” 
“Hey, lovebirds, I’d look at the menu if I were you, otherwise Mom’s going to order for you.” David interrupted, nodding towards the waitress that was at the table. 
You gave him a glare before looking down at your menu, deciding to order the first thing you set your eyes on since you didn’t have much time before the waitress’s attention was on you.
“I see your brother is still snappy as ever.” Tom muttered after the moment of silence you shared. 
“You know how he is. He’s not so bad with me, definitely on his last straw with Lucy, though.”
Tom opened his mouth to speak before being interrupted by the waitress. You quickly ordered your food, Tom doing the same before you turned your attention back to the conversation. 
You weren’t sure what the young man’s plan was, why he was so insistent on talking your ear off when you had practically ghosted him like an ex-boyfriend for almost a year prior to the current exchange. You wanted to shrug it off, but you couldn’t get past it and it tortured you more for Tom to be so kind to you than it had ignoring him. 
It’s not that you were okay with ghosting him in the past, in fact, you felt like it was a true breakup without you having ever been with Tom. It was a stupid, little interaction that you could’ve talked about and explained away had you actually given him a chance to speak to you, but instead you let your own pride get in the way of that. 
“Y/n, did you hear what I said?” Tom asked, his hand resting on yours. 
You blinked for a moment, clearing your throat and slipping your hand from under his as you shook you head. “No, sorry, what did you say?”
“Oh, don’t take it personally, Tom,” Your father started, “Y/n’s always in her own head. She never really hears anyone.”
“Dad, it’s fine.” You shook your head again. “What did you say, Tom?”
“I asked if you wanted to get a drink and speak privately for a moment.” 
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” 
“I think it is,” Your mother stated, now interrupting. “You two go ahead. We’ll come get you when the food comes.”
You mentally cursed yourself and your parents as you followed Tom’s motions, setting down your napkin alongside his and rising from your seat. You allowed him to place a hand on your lower back and guide you away from the group and to the bar, much to your own internal dismay. 
“We need to talk.” Tom stated, taking a seat at the empty bar as he looked at you.
You crossed your arms over your chest. “Is that why you came tonight? Just to confront me? You could’ve just called if you wanted that.” 
“I would’ve if you didn’t block me.” Tom asserted himself before pointing to the empty seat beside him. “And have a seat, please, it’s weird that you’re just standing there.”
You took a seat beside him, leaning away from him and against the bar, as if you wanted to put as much space between you both. 
“I came tonight because I wanted to see you, not just talk about how you drop kicked me out of your life.” 
“I wouldn’t say I drop kicked you...” 
“You kissed me, ran away in a split second, and then proceeded to block me. I think that is the definition of drop kicking someone.” 
“Actually, I think it’s when you jump up and kick someone.” You joked, attempting to redirect the conversation away from your mistakes. 
“I’m about to drop kick you if you don’t take this seriously.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“For what? Drop kicking me or making a joke out of it when I’m trying to be vulnerable with you?”
“Both.” You shifted in your seat, uncomfortable and feeling as though you were a child about to go to the principal’s office. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, I think I’m just trying to protect my own.” 
“David’s right, you are selfish and trying to talk to you was a mistake.” Tom shook his head, rising from his seat. 
“Tom, wait.” You grabbed his arm, only for him to shake you off. 
“I have been waiting, Y/n. I’ve been waiting the past year for you to talk to me or be willing to see me and every time I think you will, you disappoint.”
“Tom, I-”
“You know, I begged your parents to let me come here to see you, to spend time with your family? They didn’t ask me. Once I realized you were never going to speak to me again over something so stupid, I had to swallow my own pride, unlike you, just to see you again.” Tom ran a hand through his hair, attempting to calm down as he looked away from you. “I swallowed my own pride to see you choking on yours and still acting as if I was the one in the wrong somehow. You kissed me, you blocked me. You didn’t even let me assess the situation before you did it for me and now I’m the bad guy?”
“I don’t think you’re a bad guy.” 
“Really? Because both Charlie and David have said multiple times that you claim that I rejected you when I never did. That you could just tell that I didn’t like you so you pushed me away when the truth was that I did like you. God, Y/n, I’d been in love with you since primary school and the one time I realized you reciprocated feelings, you ran away like you hadn’t.” 
“I’m sorry, okay?” You cried, falling back into your seat. “I didn’t think it would be a huge deal until it was and I was scared that the outcome of my actions wasn’t going to be the one I had been hoping for. When I kissed you, you didn’t seem to like it and when I ran, you didn’t chase after me and I took that as you not liking me and wanting to get the fuck out of the situation.” 
“But that’s what I’m saying, Y/n! You’re always so focused on yourself that you don’t even realize how other people are feeling. I tried to run after you, I did, but I lost you halfway up the stairs and I couldn’t remember your room number.” Tom explained, exasperated. “I even tried to call but you didn’t pick up and your brother and sister convinced me it was best to just go home so we did. I thought you needed space, but once it got to be so long, I didn’t know what to do.” 
“You really chased after me?”
“Of course I did. I loved you, Y/n. I wanted to be with you. I’m here because I still do, but I’m starting to think this was a mistake. I should go, I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”
Tom straightened up before turning on his heel and starting to walk back to the table to collect his things and leave. 
You watched as he did so, something in you pulling you up off of your seat and making you grab him by the arm even though you wanted to cower away like you once had before. 
Tom turned towards you, about to say something when you collided your lips with his, the action feeling more natural than it had the first time you kissed him. He melted into you, his free hand resting on your hip as he kissed back, causing you to smile at the gesture before pulling away. 
“Please, Tom, don’t go.” You whispered. “I want you to stay. I want to make it up to you for all the heartache and lost time. I never meant to hurt you and I was being selfish and that wasn’t fair. I want to try to work something out with you.” 
“If I stay will you buy me that drink you promised?”
“I’ll do anything if you stay.” 
Tom looked away for a moment, as if he was pondering something. “Hmm. I’ll think about it.”
“Tom, please.” 
“Fine, I will stay, but only because I already ordered food.” Tom joked, raising his hands defensively as you pouted and gave him a look. “I’m kidding! I want to stay and work something out, I swear.”
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theleftovertaco · 3 years
Text
The Boys in Lingerie
OK FIRST EVEN VAGUELY SMUTTISH POST 
Basic warnings in order please don’t interact if you don’t want to see this. Use basic judgement. You know if you’re too young to read something
Once again, I try to keep it house, gender, and year neutral so anyone can fill in the blanks where they wish, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals alike
We have standard lineup- Fred, George, Draco, Neville, Harry, Ron, Oliver, Cedric, and now Charlie and Blaise have been added!
ON TO THE FEMBOYS IN LINGERIE
Fred
You and Fred had messed around before with kinks and lingerie
He always liked how it looked on you, how the lace hugged you perfectly
Freddie is a very forthright person, if he wants to try something he will tell you in advance, and so he talks to you about him wearing some
You agree immediately and the two of you find a magazine to order some because there is no shop that sells that in Hogsmeade, unfortunately
He finds a pair of pink panties and chooses those because of course he does and when the box arrives (he has to avoid George’s questions about what's in the box) 
He puts them on and then sends you a notes asking you to come to his room while no one else is there
And when you find him
“Baby boy, you look amazing.” He smirks and spins in a circle before leaping on the bed, you following close after
George
George wandered into a strange shop in muggle London when you and him were exploring during Christmas break
He found a sex shop where they sold a lot of lingerie and before he got yelled at by the shop owner to “get out, you tosser!”
He couldn’t get the lingerie out of his head 
He didn’t think about you wearing it, well maybe a little. No he actually thought more about the cloth on his own body
So about a couple weeks after seeing those and getting back to school he plucked up the courage to ask you (he was a Gryffindor, dammit, he shouldn’t be scared)
“How would you feel if I... wanted to wear panties?” “Sure, love, sounds good if that’s what you want.” “Wait, that’s it?” “Yea.” “Ok good, cause I kinda already ordered them.” 
He darts into the restroom to put them on and then comes out to show you and holy fuck
He’s in this pale blue pair of flower lace bikini panties and walks out looking just a little timid and you fucking jump him 
Draco 
Draco saw a pair of Pansy’s underwear during a game of strip poker and while most of the other guys were ogling her, he was thinking about how the silk would feel on him
He buys a pair, but then they just sit at the bottom of his trunk for about a month and a half
Then he wears them once or twice around the common room under his trousers before he even thinks of telling you
He writes you a note during History of Magic (its not like Binns will notice anyways): “Can you come to my dorm after classes today? I want to show you something.”
So you go thinking its gonna be some gift his mum sent again but you enter the dorm and see him in a pair of silk black panties 
“Honey, you look fantastic!”
You may or may not have torn them off of him 
He may or may not have had to buy another 10 pairs
Neville
Neville sees a girl in a thong in one of his dormmates old magazines and he just gets a little spooked
Because his immediate thought isn’t about you in them
It’s about him in them
So he panics
Slowly but surely, as your relationship progresses he gets a little more bold, in general, since you make his confidence skyrocket when you’re around him
So he wears them around during the day and when he pulls you into a empty classroom you’re a little scared about what he’s gonna do because of the timid look on his face
But he pulls down his trousers to show the pastel yellow thong he’s wearing and he slips on his old cat ears
You let out an audible groan
“Kitten, you look beautiful.”
He blushes and looks down in embarrassment just a little
“Nuh-Uh, don’t you dare look embarrassed kitten, come here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Harry
You and Harry had a very honest relationship
He is a rather frank person and is not afraid to tell you want he wants in a relationship, but of course, you know that right out of the gate
Plus after the heels debacle, he knew never to try and hide what he wanted to wear from you
So when he discovers your collection of lingerie, he straight up asks you if he can try them on
“You sure?” “Yes please.” “Yeah ok go ahead, sunshine.”
He grins and snatches his favorite pair, a red set of satin underwear that barely cover anything
“You ready love?” “Of course sunshine, come on out!”
He steps out and you are speechless to say the least
He looks amazing and you pretty much drag him over to sit on your lap while you kiss him
So now he wears panties all the damn time because why not
If he likes it and he’s confident wearing them, you’re all for it
Ron
Ron is still a bit wary about wearing lingerie
He’s been wearing more stereotypically feminine clothes, but wearing panties is a whole other game to him
But you suggested it, and he was willing to try
It takes him a bit to warm up to the idea of lingerie
Ron has you walk him through it, what would be comfortable, what wouldn’t be, and he settles on a pair of black satin ones “They’ll be comfortable, promise!” “If you’re sure...”
You do a trial run where he just kind of lounges around the common room wearing them underneath his normal clothes
By the end of the day he’s hooked on it and you are too
He likes the softness of them
Ron has always felt like he had to be strong, and measure up to his brothers masculinity, but when he’s in the lingerie, he feels like he doesn’t have to conform to that
Anyways yes he likes the panties
Oliver
Oliver saw a pair on you once under your sweatpants when you were cuddling
“Oh, what are these?” “My panties???” “They’re pretty... do they make them for guys?”
Bro was straightforward
So you buy him a pair “I trust your judgement love, buy whatever you want!”
So he ends up with a pair of red silk ones that feel amazing 
He wears them whenever possible
About a week after he starts wearing them, Angelina somehow finds out and the Gryffindor quidditch team dares him to ride on the broom in only his panties
So he tries it... before immediately slipping off and falling on his ass
“Stupid fabric.”
He manages to stay on the second time, and well, now you have a few candid shots of your boyfriend riding a broom in lingerie
Not that you’re complaining
Cedric
I need to stop calling Cedric Pretty boy, but does that mean i will? no
Pretty boy loves you in lingerie
The fabrics are always so pretty
And he has never been shy about this, so he just asks you if he can try on a pair of yours
“Yeah, of course pretty boy go ahead.” he kisses you on the cheek and runs off to find a pair
He puts on a pale yellow satin pair of briefs 
And walks back into your dorm
“Fuck, pretty boy!” “You like it?” “Baby, I adore it!”
Cedric begins wearing them around campus
He likes how his thighs look in them, and soon he starts wearing them under his skirts
If he bends over, you can see it pretty easily, he knows exactly what he’s doing
He tries to rile you up
Fucking tease
Charlie
Charlie is a very muscular person 
It isn’t that he doesn’t like traditionally feminine stuff, he just never thought he had the build for it
It takes a while for him to change his mind, since contrary to popular belief, he is actually pretty insecure
“Don’t you think I’d look strange in them, stocky kid in girls underwear?” “Well, it’s  not just for girls, and no you would not! I happen to think that you would look beautiful!”
He likes that word. Beautiful
People have always described him as handsome, cute, but never beautiful
So he agrees
Maybe it’s something about wizarding Romania that’s more accepting but when the lady at the shop you go to sees that the panties are more fit for Charlie, she winks at the two of you and says to “have fun with those”
So he puts them on and holy shit 
He understands it now
He feels beautiful
Blaise
Blaise likes being pretty lets be real
He doesn’t really give a flying fuck what people think of him
So he jumps on panties real quick
Finds the prettiest pair of emerald panties he can find and he loves them almost immediately
He likes putting on a short skirt and makeup on to top off his whole vibe because why not
Another thing about Blaise is that he is a fucking flirt 
With everyone, not just you
And while you trust that he would never cheat on you or betray you, if he gets a little too flirty with anyone else, all you have to do is creep your hand up to the satin undergarment and give it a little tug to remind him who he belongs to
You, bitch, it’s you
Ok that’s it for now idk what I’m doing next so if you want me to write something please send me an ask. Also I rarely write suggestive/smut fics if you know ways that I can make this better please for the love of god let me know.
This feels like a good time to say that this is the final set of characters. I have 10 right now, and if I keep accepting more people I’ll just end up doing 20 characters every time. I love doing these but I don’t have the time or energy to do every single character, it just would not be good for my mental health. That being said, if you want a specific headcanon of a specific character, please SEND ME AN ASK so I know that you want that directly. I would be more than happy to write it for you.
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strawberrysoup · 4 years
Text
Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 4
You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever. 
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pairings: dark!Avengers x reader chapters: 4/? status: WIP warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. not beta read (AKA there may be additional changes)
hey guys! i made a ko-fi! if you enjoy this and have some cash you could spare to help me out with my bills, id really appreciate it!
You wondered idly at his eyes, glancing between the brown and the blue with the kind of intent that betrayed the anxiety welling in your chest. His hair was short too, the last time you’d seen him in the papers it had been long. He was incredibly, uncomfortably handsome and your heart pounded, that stupid bitch lurking in your hindbrain was practically preening under his stare.
“Are you coming back to me little love?” He asked softly, frowning when you flinched back—you were so traumatized, the alpha couldn’t imagine what had happened to you, “focus on me now.”
“Her eyes clear?” Peter’s voice echoed slightly, coming from above, “they were so cloudy earlier.”
“Much clearer,” the blue eye and the brown eye crinkled at the corners, the blond smiling down at you in his arms as he made his way up a set of stairs, “I’d wager you’re even listening to me by this point.”
“Everyone needs to go through their clothes and pick out some things to offer up for the nest,” Steve didn’t sound like he was talking to anyone, rather to the room at large, but the prime’s voice coming from further than Peter’s, “she’ll need lots of options, we might have to fix them up for the first few weeks.”
“How is your nest building instinct, my love?” Thor rumbled, the sound traveling through his chest and vibrating down to your bones, “hopefully better than your submissive instinct, hm?”
There was a snorted laugh you couldn’t ascribe to anyone in particular and the whole thing made you bristle, every hair on your body was standing on end. Did they think it was funny? You were shattering into pieces, shards swept into a hurricane and scattered. You weren’t wearing your own clothes, your own skin didn’t smell right. Everything was wrong, sitting 10° off the proper axis. The thoughts spiraled —they would find all of your suppressant stashes, all of your weapons, the few things you’d taken when you ran away from home. Every second you spent in this house, your odds of escape plummeted.
You were transferred to a different pair of massive arms, Steve carefully restraining yours to your sides when you started to squirm and hushing you softly, “shh, precious, you’re okay. Let’s get you settled in. Thor, Nat just texted Carol that she and Clint should be here in the next half hour. Any ideas on Loki?”
The surface he laid you on was one of the softest things you’d ever felt. Your body practically melted over the ultra-comfortable mattress, white noise filling your brain with static for several long moments. When you came too, you instinctively inhaled deeply through your nose before yawning so hard your jaw cracked. If only there wasn’t a fucking alpha prime laying on his side directly next to you, one arm settled with a comforting pressure over your waist while the other propped his head up, you’d be quite comfortable.
A sudden flash of light jolted you from your fuzzy state, sitting upright abruptly only for the blond to firmly and smoothly force your back to the mattress again. His fingers traced swirls into the skin of your waist while he shushed you and you winced when his hand travelled higher over your ribs, thumb brushing a goosebump inducing arc over your flesh.
“S-stop,” your voice cracked as you reached down, pressing firmly against his arm—blood draining from your face as you realized his arm kept the hem of the oversized shirt you wore pulled far over your waist, “oh my God, get off—”
“Loki should be here shortly, I contacted him just after she ran out of the lab,” Thor stated from where he stood at the edge of what you realized was a bed the size of most bedrooms.
It was built into the floor in the corner of the room, a sea of pillows scattered across the surface and mixed in with blankets and sheets. It smelled—you realized you felt lightheaded almost, surrounded by the scent of the two alpha primes and their entire pack, it smelled so overwhelming. The back of your mind screamed that it smelled good, it smelled painfully and damningly good.
“I brought up some bags.”
Your head snapped to the stairs, watching a man with short brown hair come into view. He was shorter than Steve or Thor but still taller than Peter, built similarly to the finely toned young alpha. There was no extra bulk to the man, although you could see the bulge of his muscles through his long sleeved shirt. A delta, you would guess at a distance; there was plenty of dominance in his stance, but the he looked built to seduce rather than restrain.
Steve’s arm tightened around your torso, fingers carefully cupping the curve of your ribcage and pressing you more firmly into the bed. The prime was all too obviously meant to restrain, especially as he shifted, manipulating your uncooperative limbs until you were cradled in his lap while he sat against the wall behind the bed. His grasp was so entirely inflexible that you wondered what his bones were made of, his muscles—he didn’t strain for a moment, not even when you attempted to throw your entire body weight to the side.
“Any of those got a collar in ‘em, Buck?”
The prime’s hand came down over your mouth just seconds before you shrieked. The muffled noise sent shivers down the spines of the alphas in the room, the one holding you no exception. It wasn’t sufficient though, the pitch was critical to the sound’s efficacy and you couldn’t reach the proper volume. Lips pressed firmly into the side of your head, Steve still holding you so carefully you could barely move.
“Got a couple, here,” the brunet man, Buck, dug through the plastic shopping bags he’d set on the floor near the wall.
“Hey, hey, come on baby,” Peter had an obvious and serious aversion to your discomfort, emphasized by the way he quickly slipped onto the bed and plastered himself against Steve’s side so that he could wrap his arms around you, “they’re not choke or shock or spike collars, I promise they’re just pretty omega collars Bucky and Carol picked out. You’ll feel so much safer with a collar on, omega. Just hold still.”
The shift from Steve holding you down to Peter was almost unnoticeable, a shocking revelation. You swore you could sit on the kid and he’d end up a pancake, there was no way he should be able to hold you in place while you tried to thrash. One of his legs crossed over yours in Steve’s lap, the young alpha contorting you both until your forehead touched his and your body was curled with your neck extended. The hand over your mouth shifted and the scents changed, the newest addition belonging to the delta who must’ve been on the bed behind you.
“Here you go doll,” his voice was gravelly, a strange tone that sounded almost underused with a very slight burr that reminded you of an alpha’s purr—minus the calming pheromones.
“In the meantime,” Thor joined the crowd on the bed, shifting to settle just to Peter’s right and carefully avoiding Steve’s outstretched legs, “No shrieking, little love.”
The alpha command washed over you like tar, your chest seizing. Your vocal cords felt suspended, the more you tried to shriek the more painful the sensation got. The hand that hand been over your mouth slipped down to your chin, tipping your head back carefully as leather circled your neck. A reedy, whistling whine escaped your lips and Peter’s cheek was immediately rubbing against your face, down your neck and over the collar being tightened around your throat. He was scenting you, trying to provide comfort by drenching your skin with a protective perfume.
“Oh baby don’t make that sound,” he murmured, lips brushing over your face as the others shifted around the pair of you, “it’s for your own good, omega—”
“No!” Your voice rasped with the cry, “get it off! I won’t stay here, I won’t—”
“Regulate your breathing, precious, the collar will make you feel more secure,” in the shift Steve had ended up with you sitting on the bed between his legs, his ankles crossed to trap your lower body tightly while his fingers twined with yours to restrain your arms, “maybe it needs to be tighter? Bucky, is it pressing the hormone glands firmly enough?”
There was some shuffling and mumbling and you whined as the collar got a notch tighter, only slightly restricting your breathing. It was just this side of uncomfortable, walking the edge of distressing and you were forced to quickly calm your frantic breaths lest you hyperventilate—there was no telling what they’d do if you passed out, if you couldn’t control your breathing and fainted. You could feel the leather pressing the nodes on either side of your neck, causing a reaction that pumped your body full of chemicals. They were meant to induce intimacy and trust in an omega while alleviating stress, the constant oxytocin and endorphin production that flooded the system resulting in a low-grade addiction. Or so you’d hypothesized.
Omega physiology was a trash compactor of undesirable traits but the hormone set up was abhorrent, the limbic system an evolutionary disaster—two pituitary glands, two scent glands, and the thyroid were all located in the neck, the hypothalamus in the brain with the hippocampus and amygdala. You didn’t know the history of the collars, you didn’t have a head for timelines, but you knew that omega subjugation wouldn’t be so easy or convenient without them. It was like long term sedation with highly addictive chemicals; omegas didn’t stand a chance when their own body’s chemistry was used against them.
“This is inhumane,” you managed to choke out, between the rage and fear and high the collar caused you could barely keep your teeth from chattering, “I’m a human being, of sound mind—I can think for myself and protect myself­—I don’t need or want a pack, I don’t—fuck, please listen to me!”
Your voice was weak and raspy, no wonder the omegas you always saw were so docile; your breathing was somewhat restricted, your vocal cords unable to reach full range. Even if Thor hadn’t given an alpha order you wouldn’t have been able to shriek, speaking was exhausting. The command would wear off in an hour or two and it wouldn’t even make a difference. How were you supposed to argue your suitability for autonomy if you couldn’t talk?
“Of course you’re of sound mind, love—”
“No, shut up!” You croaked, eyes flashing to Thor’s surprised face, “listen. Would you treat a beta this way? If I was any other presentation this behavior would be abhorrent—it would be illegal! Please, you’re superheros aren’t you? Be rational, for a moment, please!”
You didn’t realize Bruce had joined the group in the attic until he spoke, “betas don’t have a physiological requirement for physical contact with other presentations, sweetheart.”
A green light went off in your brain, a shine in your eyes as you looked at the doctor, “w-wait, wait I would argue—” your voice cut out for a second and you cleared your throat the best you could, desperation sitting in your stomach, “I would argue that your wording is inherently biased. Omegas don’t have a physiological requirement for contact with other presentations; their bodies require chemicals that it doesn’t naturally produce, the same way we require amino acids to survive—”
“You know your stuff, don’t you princess? Where’d you go to school?” Tony Stark emerged into the attic, still wearing the immaculately pressed suit he’d been in earlier, “you know, before you dropped out and went into hiding.”
“It’s disrespectful to interrupt someone when they’re speaking, you duplicitous bastard,” you spat, the presence of yet another delta setting your teeth on edge.
“Oh yeah, hey Buck did you meet y/n? She really hates deltas,” he was grinning, the asshole.
“Is y/n your real name, sweetheart?” Bruce asked, tossing Tony a stern look, “We found several IDs in your things, all different names. The contract we got from the cleaning agency listed your name as y/n.”
It took you a moment to think through the question—and another minute after that to remember which name you used while in Ontario. You real first name, fake last name. Fake age, maybe? Or was that the Quebec ID? Did your real name even matter at this point? It had been so long since it had meant anything to you (other than being the easiest name to respond to properly, but you could train yourself to answer to anything).
“My name is inconsequential,” you finally responded, eyebrows furrowing, “we’re debating the ethics of kidnapping people, remember?”
“That sounds like biased wording if I’ve ever heard it,” Stark snorted, “try preventing a vulnerable omega from being killed in the streets.”
“Over dramatic, no basis for fact, denied,” you snapped angrily, quickly turning your attention to Bruce, “come on, listen man! You’re subjugating the entire omega population based on inherently incorrect medical assumptions from two hundred years ago or something! The only scientific causation between modern omega theory and actual omega statistics is that the overall population of omegas has dropped dramatically since the induction of Omega Law!”
“There’s no proof that’s causation, sweetheart,” Bruce’s arms were crossed over his chest, “the odds lie in the favour of correlation.”
“We would know if any studies had been done! There have been less than twenty official studies regarding omega biology in the last ten years!” Begging—you were begging, you could hear it, “there haven’t been any studies done regarding the effects of the other presentation’s interference in omega behavior on their physiology! We know more about Olinguitos than we do omega’s chemistry and those’ve only existed in main stream science circles for the last six years!”
“You need to calm down omega,” Steve’s voice was one octave away from a purr, “you’re getting frantic and your heart rate is through the roof. You’re going to hyperventilate.”
“Y’all think she might be more comfortable if she wasn’t being surrounded on all sides by strangers?” Sam asked sarcastically from the stairway as he came up with a tray, his facial expression riding the fence between irritated and amused, “Peter, Bucky, back up guys. Thor, you really gotta be right there when Steve’s got the poor thing completely restrained?”
Hope was like a gut punch, bile rushing up your throat only for you to swallow it back down—gulping with the collar around your neck caused enough discomfort that you realized eating was going to be difficult. Your eyes locked on Sam as the bodies around you shuffled once again. Bucky and Peter both slipped off the bed, the young alpha sulking while the delta calmly returned to the bags he’d left sitting in the corner. Thor wasn’t so gracious as to outright back off, but he did scoot about a foot back on the bed.
“Alright sweetheart, first things first, are you hungry? Dinner’s gonna be about an hour so I brought up some snacks. If Steve let’s go of you, do you promise not to try to run off?” The man approached the edge of the bed, holding the tray against his hip, “we can have a discussion.”
Suspicion lanced through you, there was no way the offer was as innocent as it seemed. Most of the time engaging with people who wanted to have discussions didn’t go well but you weren’t sure what your alternative option was. There was no reason to test their patience at this point so you nodded slowly, feeling Steve’s chest press into your back as he sighed. He lifted you carefully and set you down onto the mattress, far more gracefully than any alpha prime had the right to be as he climbed off the bed.
“Now can at least some of you get out?” The alpha turned to stare back at his packmates still cluttering the attic, “please?”
They were all still for several seconds before Thor and Steve exchanged a heavy glance and both nodded, turning respectfully and walking down the stairs—another shocking display that made your heart stutter. An alpha prime silently acquiescing to the request of an alpha in front of their pack, signaling that others should follow, was a sign of an incredibly strong pack. It meant strong, competent leadership, respect, and consideration. Too bad they still considered you little more than an animal.
Bucky and Peter followed with mournful back glances, Tony moving to join them looking more exasperated than saddened. Bruce went to follow but you immediately felt a prospect of hope leaving with him.
“W-Wait, Bruce—right? Bruce, you’re rational, a scientist? Please, stay, let me debate this with you—”
“Hey! I’m a scientist too! I have PhDs!” Stark balked immediately, tossing his hands up as if to emphasize the aggravation her attitude was causing.
“Tony, don’t—”
“No, you stay too!” You cut Sam off when the alpha began to admonish his pack mate, “you’re an asshole but you understand fucking logic, I’ll take it.”
“What about me?” Peter squeezed eagerly back onto the landing, “I have three masters and—”
“Peter no, no more alphas in here please,” Sam stared the younger alpha down for just a moment with a stern eye, “please?”
Peter groaned but turned back, trudging down the stairs like a teenager. The air felt clearer when all that was left in the room was a three people other than yourself, the two scientists and the alpha. Part of you felt increasingly panicked, as if somehow the quiet setting was more ominous than the previous. The other part of you realized that this particular group was far less likely to violate you while you sat half naked on a bed than the others.
“Okay now,” Sam toed off his shoes before stepping onto the bed, carefully bringing the tray with him to set on your lap before he sat down, “let’s slow down for a few minutes. I know I don’t understand what you’re going through, but my little sister is an omega so I do have a little more knowledge than most of the pack. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on from your perspective.”
Burning frustration lit a path down your spine—this alpha might’ve seen omegas as more than pets, but he certainly spoke down to you like you were an irrational child. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on from your perspective?
“From my perspective I’ve been assaulted and terrorized and falsely imprisoned for I don’t know how long now!” You spat, practically vibrating in irritation, “you’re trying to justify this treatment because I’m an omega but my designation doesn’t mean I deserve to be treated like something to be caught and stolen! I want to leave, I want this horrible collar off my neck, and I want my stuff back! And if you tell me to calm down, so help me God—”
Sam’s mouth snapped shut from where he’d started to speak, immediately folding his hands into his lap and clearing his throat, “right, no telling you to calm down. Got it. Now, where are you from?”
“Doesn’t matter,” you grit your teeth slightly when the alpha sighed, “I want to leave, now.”
“You can’t leave sweetheart, not unless we get everything figured out. If you have an alpha, we’ll need to get you back to them. If you don’t, we certainly can’t just let you go back off on your own—it’s way too dangerous.”
“No it isn’t, I’ve been on my own for years and I’m fine! Not once have I had any problems, not until now!”
“Yeah, unfortunately for you our beta here has an alpha rage monster inside of him who managed to catch your scent beneath the suppressants,” Tony looked almost proud as he slung his arm over the beta’s shoulders, tugging him slightly, “if Bruce didn’t tip off Steve, who knows if he would’ve caught it.”
“Wow—Jesus Christ, you make me want to punch you in the face,” you snarled, hands clenching into fists in your lap, “I’m not a helpless omega, I’ve been happy, do you understand that? Do you know how rare it is for an omega to get to be happy? It’s like winning the lottery. Please, I like being happy. Please just let me go.”
“Sweetheart it isn’t rare for omegas to be happy,” Sam was frowning like you’d dropped a suicide note on his lip, “there are so few of them, they’re taken care of like royalty, baby.”
“Plus, omegas in packs are statistically less likely to suffer mental illness—”
“God, would you shut up about that?” Bruce’s eyes went wide when you snapped at him, “that study was trash, the bias was overwhelming and it hasn’t been replicated since. Omegas in packs wear collars that force their bodies to over produce oxytocin and when that’s removed they go insane from withdrawals. The same happens with the chemicals produced by the other presentations’ pheromones; instead of being given supplements to make up for the absence omega’s bodies are left to wilt. It has everything to do with medical malpractice and nothing to do with omega nature! There’s nothing happy about that!”
“Look, there are obviously places where the known biology of omega’s has holes,” Stark admitted, one hand in his pocket while the other was held aloft, “There’s a lot we don’t know, but what we do know is that when omegas are left to their own devices they end up dead.”
“They end up kidnapped, raped, and forcibly bonded by alphas!” If the collar had allowed the pitch you would’ve been shrieking, “By alphas who’s packs rape and bond the omegas, too. The only danger to omegas are the other presentations!”
“That’s why they have to be protected,” Sam emphasized his words with a dose of calming pheromones, and you snarled.
“Stop trying to manipulate me! All your doing is inhibiting my ability to think and feel for myself—do you not see how cruel and insane that is? That you’re literally attempting to—”
“This is a lot of ROR rhetoric,” Bruce sighed quietly, obviously aiming his words to Tony but you picked it up.
“There’s no such thing as ‘radical’ omega’s rights! We just want to be allowed to exist without our lives and hormones being constantly controlled by outside forces that we never chose!” Your voice broke towards the end and you realized tears were welling in your eyes—this conversation was not going your way and hope was dwindling rapidly, “why is that so hard to understand? That chemically controlling another human being is inhumane?”
“Alright, alright, let’s take a second and calm down,” Sam requested sternly, eyes widening when you immediately hissed, “Not just you, ‘mega. Everyone, including me, okay?”
It was truly a battle to fight down the ire rising in your throat, nearly choking you at the collar. You wondered cruelly if he’d treated his sister like she was an infant her entire life, if this was his bedside manner for omegas. The poor thing was probably so addicted to oxytocin she was barely alive.
“Please, let me go,” you begged quietly, squeezing your eyes shut against the tears, “if you have any humanity in you, let me go.”
When you looked up at him again, the doleful look on his face made your heart crumble to pieces.
“Lots of omegas are apprehensive at first, baby,” his voice was gentle, low and forlorn, “when you first present… my sister was seventeen. She was in so much pain and she begged for help, for almost a full week. When she came out of it she could barely remember how bad it had been but we remembered. The agony she’d suffered because she didn’t have an alpha through the process—we couldn’t let that happen over and over again, could we? As her packmates how could we let her endure that? She was upset at first, but now she has a pack that waits on her hand and foot, a whole slew of babies, anything she could ever ask for at her fingertips.”
“She was upset at first,” your heart broke for Sam’s sister, where ever she was, “you realize she was only able to be upset at first, right? Because after a while, she probably stopped being able to process the usual scale of emotion she enjoyed before you allowed her to be given a chemical lobotomy and sold her off—seventeen, God, she never even got to live and you’re talking about her like she’s some sort of success story?”
The look in the man’s brown eyes was getting darker and darker the longer you spoke but a dam had broke and your mouth kept moving, hoarse sounds barking borderline cruel words in fast succession.  
“I hope her ability to feel betrayal went first so she didn’t have to deal with the memory of her family auctioning her off like fucking cattle. Success story,” you scoffed, lips lifted in a fang flashing snarl, “that wasn’t a fucking success story you knottedheaded piece of shit, it was a cautionary tale.”
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