#;; word's from crimson lips | ic blog post

[outlawbounded]

             @outlawjustice Already been one whole year, time sure does fly. 

//  Happy anniversary to these two dorks!  Art by mun: 

[inkykeiji]

i have the warmth of the sun within me tonight

characters: takami keigo | hawks

genre: smut n fluff

notes: this piece was written with someone specific in mind, but i wanted to share it here, too!! this is, by far, the healthiest and most wholesome piece i’ve ever posted on my blog ehehe | title cred: the warmth of the sun by the beach boys

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, reader is extremely scared of thunderstorms, v romantic, shower sex, minimal prep, slight size difference/size kink

words: 4.6k

synopsis:

“Make it stop, Kei, please, m-make it stop, make it go away,” the words are nearly inaudible, wept into his chest and muffled by his jacket, snarled, snared, snagged on the choked sobs and gagged sniffles that scrabble and tear at your throat with their razored talons.

And even drenched, clothes sopping with rainwater, he’s still so warm, like he has liquid sun flowing through his veins, scalding waves of heat radiating off of his body and seeping into yours, cozy and consoling as it douses you, as it sinks into your skin, your bones, your soul itself and marinates there, twisting and twirling into a small ball of sunshine, of him, that sends pulsing zaps of warmth circulating through your flesh.

It’s dark. It’s so dark it almost looks like night despite the fact that it’s only late afternoon, heavy bloated clouds—charcoal and fluffy and overstuffed with raindrops—obscuring the safety of comforting golden rays from the entire city.

The torrential downpour feels endless, and for a brief second you’re terrified it truly may never stop, streets below having flooded with the rain, cars slowly wading through them, tires spraying out streams of water as they do.

Magnificent strikes of lightning crack through the dreary sky like thick roots snaking through the foggy canopy of smoke and steel, momentarily tainting them in shades of periwinkle and lavender and casting flashes of brilliant silver light across the skyscrapers and condominiums.

Their sudden presence makes you jolt, a rapid shudder working its way through your entire body, skin pebbling with chills in its wake.

But it isn’t the lightning that bothers you—not really, anyway.

It’s what comes after.

Rumbles of thunder so loud, so violent they cause the glass windows of Keigo’s apartment to quiver and the hardwood beneath your feet to tremble, roll through the sky, and you swear you can see the clouds ripple from the force.

Arms squeezing tighter around your body, your fingers curl in the material of your—his—hoodie, desperately attempting to resist the urge to grab your phone, to frantically scroll through social media as worried eyes scan for any mention of his name, for shreds of dreadful news, for things you never want to hear.

You hate it when he has to work in storms such as these. And you know, you know you shouldn’t be watching the sky, shouldn’t be searching the splotches of gunmetal adorning the atmosphere for a glimmer of scarlet and gold, shouldn’t be standing so close to the pristine glass windows that your uneven puffs of nervous breath cloud them, tiny blankets of condensation left by the hot air you exhale fleetingly staining the surface, evaporating into nothing just as quickly as they appear.

But you can’t help it. It’s a compulsion, almost—like some sort of sick obsession, some sort of twisted addiction you can’t control. Because—Because you have to know, unable to stand that feeling of uncertainty that gnaws away at your insides, incapable of handling the ambiguity and vagueness that comes packaged with the not knowing. You have to at least try—try to do everything in your power to stay informed, and if that means facing a vicious thunderstorm head on, with your cheek pressed against the cold glass as your gaze searches the tumultuous sky, then so be it.

You can brave it for him. You swear you can.

“Baby,” he scolds gently, his sudden presence surprising you, causing you to throw a quick glance over your shoulder. Topaz eyes observe you, overflowing with concern, pretty bowed lips turning down, soaked strands of gold hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks and neck. “How many times have I told you not to do this?” And although he’s reprimanding you, his voice is sweet, smooth and syrupy like the finest honey. “You know how much thunder freaks you out,”

You scoff, stiffening almost defensively as you turn your nose up a little, still avoiding his eyes. “It doesn’t freak me out,”

“Oh?” he laughs a little as he kicks off his boots, tension easing from his shoulders with every step towards you, every step further into the warm sanctuary of your shared home, wet sock-clad feet slapping against the hardwood and leaving gleaming footprints.

“Kei,” you whine a little, gesturing his dripping body. “You’re getting water everywhere,”

“Hey now,” a playful smirk spreads across his lips, and a sudden, sharp whoosh slices through the air as his wings spread, spanning nearly half the living room. He gives them one good, thorough shake, crimson feathers trembling and sending tiny droplets of water flying. “I wasn’t done,” he speaks over your squeal of his name, smirk growing into that trademark mischievous grin. “You shouldn’t just stand at the window and stare up at the sky—it only scares you more,”

“I’m not scared,”

Vicious growls of thunder roil through the sky before you’re even finished speaking, almost as if it’s laughing at you, mocking you, your body flinching as the sounds crash over you, curling in on yourself a little, face puckered up in a wince as your words stutter, catching on a gasp in your throat.

Exhaling a soft sigh, Keigo holds his arms open wide, wings still stretched to span them. “Yeah, right. C’mere,” When you don’t begin moving immediately, he sighs again, strong hands gently pulling you towards him.

Your body melts into his touch—an automatic and involuntary reaction, almost instinctual at this point—and you slump against his damp chest, nuzzling your cheek against the firm muscles.

“I’ve got you,” he says softly, arms wrapping around your body as he holds you tightly to his, voice reverberating against your ear. “The Big Bad Scary Thunder can’t get you here,”

Eyes rolling, you scoff at his playful teasing, a tiny smile materializing on your face as you pull away a little to look up at him, greeted with the sight of brilliant eyes—made of sunshine and liquid gold, you’re absolutely sure of it—gazing down at you, lips quirked in a cute little smirk.

His beauty never fails to knock the breath from your chest—it seems you can never be prepared for it; no matter how many times you’ve seen him, how many times you’ve been close enough to count the individual eyelashes lining those orbs, how many times you’ve been close enough to feel the inviting tickle of the short golden hairs decorating his chin—and you’re not sure you’ll never get used to it, either.

A peculiar mix of adoration and concern swirl in his honey irises, though you can see the mirth and amusement dancing just beyond that, thinly veiled by the love and worry.

“Oh, shut up—” another bang of thunder fissures through the sky, so raucous it makes the thick clouds waver and swell, your words morphing into a fearful little squeak, quickly burying your head back against the safety of his chest.

Fingers curl in the wet suede and you hug yourself closer to him, tugging him closer to you, body beginning to shudder.

He’s hushing you now, arms and wings curled around you in a defensive embrace as words of comfort pry past his lips, tender voice sheathing the armor of crimson surrounding you.

“At least they aren’t as bad as the ones back home, yeah?”

“I guess so,” you mumble, unconvinced, eyebrows knitted and mouth sculpted into a deep pout. “I still don’t like them, though,”

“I know, I know,” a warm hand rubs soothing circles into your back, voice only marginally louder than the next bout of thunder as it vibrates against your face, another quiet yelp clawing its way up your throat. “Shh, you’re safe, you’re safe,”

“Kei,”

The nickname escapes in a mangled little whimper, and you can feel it—fright, terror, dread—building in your chest, a strangling type of panic that weaves and winds itself around your windpipe and crushes; because they’re getting worse, they’re getting closer, growls and grumbles following the flashes of lightning almost immediately, roaring loud enough to quake buildings, your heart thudding so violently it’s almost painful. Tears sting your eyes, and you shake your head against him, as if trying to burrow into his chest, to carve out a little space in his ribcage, right next to his steadily beating heart, and live there.

“I-I take it back, they are as bad as the ones back home,”

Or, at least, this one is

Keigo doesn’t argue, all traces of amusement evaporated from his face, replaced by trepidation that mixes with his worry and pinches his features, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned as he cradles you against him. Ferocious tremors course through your form, chest beginning to hitch with swallowed sobs, and he squeezes you.

“Make it stop, Kei, please, m-make it stop, make it go away,” the words are nearly inaudible, wept into his chest and muffled by his jacket, snarled, snared, snagged on the choked sobs and gagged sniffles that scrabble and tear at your throat with their razored talons.

And even drenched, clothes sopping with rainwater, he’s still so warm, like he has liquid sun flowing through his veins, scalding waves of heat radiating off of his body and seeping into yours, cozy and consoling as it douses you, as it sinks into your skin, your bones, your soul itself and marinates there, twisting and twirling into a small ball of sunshine, of him, that sends pulsing zaps of warmth circulating through your flesh.

“Okay, alright,” he’s saying as he rocks you gently, crimson wings wrapped entirely around you both, shielding you from the storm. The scent of freshly mown grass and sticky vanilla ice cream is nearly overwhelming as it washes over your senses, invading your lungs and smothering you in its embrace. It’s a welcomed feeling, the beautiful suffocation it affords you with, vibrant bursts of heat rushing through your veins, whole body flooded and thrumming with a deep-seated comfort—a special type of solace, of reassurance, of contentment unique to him, unfathomable and mystifying on all accounts, that soothes your frayed nerves and calms your irregular heart—because he smells like home; not your home halfway across the world, your real home, your forever home.

“Come,” he instructs a moment later, stern yet tender, keeping an arm draped firmly around your shoulders, one of his wings curving around the limb as he leads you away from the window, scarlet feathers obstructing your vision.

—

The bathroom—comprised of gleaming marble and shining chrome—is enormous, housing a mammoth glass shower that spans the length of the furthest wall, large enough to more-than-comfortably accommodate his wings, and then some.

Steam fogs the glass, and a soft hiss slips from between your teeth as he cages you between his chiseled body and the freezing marble, cold rock stinging your already heated skin, his wings spreading to mimic his arms, providing another layer of protection and entirely immersing you in him.

It’s your favourite when he does this, when he engulfs you in his grasp and creates a tiny universe where it’s just the two of you, whole world having fallen away outside of the barricade his thick wings offer—and you’ve never felt safer.

And it’s amazing, you’re thinking to yourself—or maybe you’re murmuring it, lips moving in a daze—it’s amazing how even after all of the rainwater pouring from the sky, all of the zipping through those dense clouds, all of the vicious wind that whips against him as he soars; none of it could ever manage to wash away, to ever dull, his intoxicating scent, not even for a second.

You’re completely overcome by him, vanquished by his enamoring eyes and his saccharine smile—drunk and high off of it all, addicted to him in the sweetest way—and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

But you’re leaning into him, closer and closer and closer, lips parted as you inhale deeply, filling your lungs, your chest, your heart and veins and blood with his aura, his essence, him. He conquers you, intoxicates you, poisons you in such a beautiful way, and you’re enchanted by it, yearning for more, a greedy and insatiable craving that will never be fulfilled.

And he knows it. He knows the effect he has on you by merely existing near you—his cocky smirk and dazzling gaze tell you so.

But then his eyes soften, glazing over with something else, lidded as they slowly travel across your body bared to him, and his mouth falls open only for his tongue to suck his bottom lip between his teeth, and his fingers reach to trace your features, the curve of your cheek and line of your jaw, the most gentle caress.

“You…Are breathtaking,”

And he really does sound out of breath, as if he’s in awe from your beauty, as if this is his first time seeing you, as if you’re some sort of goddess, having descended right in front of him, and it forces chills to erupt across your bare skin—damp and splattered with tiny droplets of water that gleam like morning dew clinging to grass—despite how boiling it is between him and the steam from the shower.

It’s a feeling you can’t quite explain, a feeling you’ve never really been able to find the appropriate words for, something that makes you feel simultaneously powerful and weak, a swirling concoction of contradictions that invade your bloodstream and travel straight to your brain, infusing the tissues with the potent mix and sending tiny sparks buzzing through your veins, collecting to flutter together in the pit of your stomach.

He kisses you slowly, tonight. He kisses you like it’s his last day to live, kisses you like it’s his first time, unhurried tongue deliberately exploring the concavities of your mouth—every nook and ridge and crevice—as if committing them to memory, as if attempting to leave his stamp, his mark, his claim, on the real estate there.

He kisses you until neither of you can breathe, lungs shriveling as your chests heave, exhaling into each other’s mouths only to suck breath from each other’s mouths a moment later. He kisses you until you’re dizzy from the lack of air and he’s burning and hard and pressed up against your thigh, leaking head rubbing against the supple skin, leaving the prettiest gleaming trails of cream. He kisses you until you’ve gone stupid from his spit alone, fervent in the way you swallow it greedily, in the way you attempt to suck, slurp, steal more from him as it surges to your brain, tissues and nerves vaporizing into nothing more than a dazed mist, spiked with him.

The kiss breaks with a sharp whoosh of air, his lids lifting to reveal glassy pupils outlined with the thinnest ring of amber. Your tongue darts out from your mouth to lick and lap at the stringy, viscous remnants coating your chin; starved, ravenous, and forever unsated.

The chuckle huffed out from between swollen, saliva-soaked lips is nothing short of sinful, makes your vision blur and your stomach swoop, a murmured tease following it.

“Eager, aren’t you,”

And you want to point out that you weren’t the one practically humping someone’s hip, but the words tangle in your throat, catching on a gasp as nimble fingers slip between the apex of your thighs, an involuntary groan spilling from his throat.

“Fuck,” his head falls forward, face buried in your neck, and sucks an inhale through his teeth. “How are you already this wet?”

He’s nearly whining as he dips two fingers into you, soft little sounds that fall from his lips and sop into your skin, his breath scorching—sizzling more than the steam in the shower—against your neck.

And those fingers, now plunging into you, knuckles curling the moment they’re deep enough to press moans from your chest and cries from your throat, feel so familiar as they stretch you open—the same fingers that pet your hair and brush away your tears and feed you pieces of fried chicken; they feel like home.

Yet as comforting as that is, as much as it has your chest swelling with something so large, so dense you’re terrified your ribs may shatter and splinter under the strain, they aren’t enough. Not right now, not today.

Because even with the water hitting the tiles and the exquisite symphony of his pants and your mewls, you can still hear it, menacing blasts encroaching on you, deep and heavy and threatening to split the little world Keigo has created, the small haven his wings and arms provide.

“Please, please, Kei,” you’re nearly wailing out, forcing bleary eyes to open, belated in the way they find his gaze. “I-I want you, I need you,”

“Sweetheart,” he starts—and you know that tone, stitched together with hesitation and concern and embellished with thin ribbons of patronization. “You know you can’t take me without being opened up at least a lil’ first,”

Another clap of thunder rattles the apartment, sounding as if it’s just outside the bathroom door, ranting and raging to get in, and both of your hands claw at his wrist, trying to pull his hand away as words bubble past your lips, high and terrified and desperate.

“No, Kei, not tonight. Please, baby, please, I need you now, right now, Kei, right now, pl-please,” and you’re nearly choking on the pleads as they barrel up your throat and out your mouth, all garbled together and stuffed with spit. “I can handle it, promise,”

A hoarse whine hitches in his throat, the worried knitting of his eyebrows carving creases into his forehead. With pinched features and a scrunched face, it looks almost as if he’s in pain; like it’s pure agony to deny you. And you can see it, can see the internal struggle reflected in his eyes, stare wrought with the tug and pull between desire and care. But that need is growing, spreading, curling around your organs in a tight embrace, suffocating you with its urgency.

A final please, Keigo, croaked out in a broken whimper and thick with the threat of tears, is what breaks him, shatters his resolve to a fine dust and whisks it away in one breath.

“Alright,” he’s murmuring, though his voice is strained, tense and gruff under the combined paradoxical weight of lust and apprehension. “Alright, hush now, I’ve got you,”

Then he’s hoisting you up, and your legs are wrapping around his waist, one hand clutching the top of the glass door, the other digging bruises into his neck as he buries his cock inside of you in one swift movement, a set of relieved gasps escaping you both.

It stings a little, sharp pinpricks shooting through your gut as his thick cock stretches you open, but they’re chased promptly by thorns of pleasure that dissipate the pain.

Because he feels so good, and you feel so full, and everything feels so perfect like this—everything feels right again.

But a boom of thunder explodes through this moment, blowing it to bits and pieces, and you reflexively jump, whole body flinching in his arms.

“Shh,” he’s whispering to you as he pulls you closer, chest pressed flush against yours. “Don’t worry, songbird, I’m gonna make it better, alright? Just focus on me,”

And so you do, eyes slipping shut as his hips begin to pump—slow at first, almost languid in the way they roll forward, each thrust thorough, cock nearly entirely unsheathed before it plunges back in, the head nudging your cervix, and you revel in the delicious cracks rasps—of your name, of curses, and praises—that fall from his lips with each rut.

“S’deep,” you mumble, words already jumbled from the carnal bliss, from the hedonistic decadence that surrounds you, emanating off him and percolating into you, instantly diffusing the tension and panic knotted like thick vines in your chest—even though he’s barely fucking done anything. “S’deep, Kei,”

“Yeah?” the word fans across your face, sweet and fragrant, hazy eyes opening to be met with glittering gold, strands of honeysuckle hair stuck to his forehead and temples, framing the dark gaze watching you, pupils almost voracious in the way they soak up your expressions, almost greedy in the way they scan your face as his hips move, looking for more. His forehead knocks against yours, penetrating stare boring into your face. “Good? My baby like it?”

“So good,” your head nods in small movements with the whimpered affirmation, bumping against his. It’s already beginning to build, smoldering deep in the pit of your stomach, the spark that had been dulled when you had begged him to stop, begged him to give you more—to stretch and fill and form you like your insides were made for him—reigniting, bright and scalding.

“More, please,”

It just slips from your lips, brain already beginning to melt as you allow yourself to be submerged, swallowed and consumed by him; an innate desire that swamps your mind and floods your senses, and you want it all.

But he complies without complaint this time, void of the usual teasing remarks and requests that you beg for it, because he can see how depleted, how drained you are, utterly exhausted from the terror of the storm, his understanding evident in a gentle confirmation tumbling from his lips.

And his groans and grunts are so beautiful, vibrating deep in the recesses of his chest, louder than any thunder as they rumble in your ears. You find solace in them, gulping them in as he pushes them out, letting them vibrate down the column of your throat and collect deep in your belly, kindling with the flickering embers that burn and glow and multiply with each thrust, furling together in a tense ball of churning heat.

The canting of his hips increases, faster and faster and faster with each rock forward, the escalating force resulting in your body to rubbing against the marble and glass, tightly curled fingers readjusting themselves, slipping a little from the foggy condensation coating the surface.

You don’t even realize that your sensitive skin’s been rubbed raw from the action, too tangled up in his noises, his pleasure, his cock, to notice, too tangled up in him to care at all.

“Here,” Keigo pants out, hips suddenly stilling. A low whine catches in your throat, eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to fuck yourself on his cock, a breathless snicker escaping his parted lips. “I know, baby, I know,” he’s telling you as strong arms readjust you, folded wings suddenly spanning, a gentle gust of air bathing your slick body in little goosebumps, before they wrap around him—around you—sheltering you from the glass and marble as they swoop under your ass and thighs, aiding Keigo in supporting your weight. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you, I promise,”

And it’s so much hotter like this, so much more intimate like this, uneven puffs of breath mingling as his forehead rests against yours, florescent lights reflecting off of his thick feathers and tinting everything—his skin, his eyes, his hair—scarlet.

The sudden snap of his hips startles a moan out of you, and he laughs again, carmine-tinged topaz eyes positively glowing. And he looks so gorgeous like this, looks like a fucking god like this, those fine gold hairs that cover his body catching in the soft light and shimmering.

He’s kissing, licking, nipping anywhere he can reach, stamping your flesh with physical manifestations of his love, pace never faltering as skilled, powerful hips continue to pound into you, cockhead dragging against that spot with every buck.

Your legs flex around his waist, muscles coiling as the sphere roiling in your stomach blazes, curled into a concentrated ball of fire. The heat it exudes is nearly unbearable now, heavy as it sinks into your gut, glowing orb spiraling as it coils, tighter and tighter and tighter until—

“Want you to cum for me, baby,” Keigo nearly keens, almost as if he’s begging you instead of commanding, voice cutting through the dense haze your brain has evaporated into. “Can y’do that for me? Be good and cum all over my cock?”

Yes, yes, yes, your head is nodding, emitting affirmatives in the form of high little mewls with each jerk. And it only takes two more sharp pistons of his hips before the fire-filled ball bursts, half of his name escaping your throat in a fractured cry as your entire body stiffens, cunt clenching so vigorously it’s almost painful.

Words start to spill from his mouth, an endless stream of praises, sandwiched between dark groans and broken whines and hitched curses; Y’so good for me, y’know that? Ah, f-fuck—So gorgeous when you gush all over my—my cock, baby, y’feel so good, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Hot, thick cum fills you suddenly, coinciding with his last choked out declaration of love, cock throbbing as it spurts rope after rope, taut stuttering hips pressed flush against your skin.

—

Everything aches as you unwind your limbs from around him, muscles sore and legs trembling as Keigo forces you to stand, propping you up against the shower wall and returning with the fluffiest towel only a moment later. Large hands pull you towards him, dragging you from under the shower head and into his arms, swaddling your shivering body in Egyptian cotton and strong arms and soft feathers.

He leaves the shower running on purpose, steady flow of water hitting the tiled floor and marbled wall, efficiently drowning out any roars or claps of thunder.

And you’re so tired, so pliant and boneless in his arms, barely able to keep your weighted eyelids from fluttering shut. He keeps you in his lap as he sits on the closed toilet, cradling you to his chest as best he can as he gently rocks you back and forth, whispering out praises—you did so well, you always look so gorgeous taking my cock—and avowals of his love, constant words oozing from his lips, sentiments cascading over your body like a stream of thick syrup.

Unconsciousness has you in its clutches, nearly slipping into the familiar embrace that promises the numbing ecstasy that comes with such an intense orgasm, until your tummy growls, and Keigo laughs.

“No, sweetheart,” he chides softly as you nuzzle into his chest, an indignant noise sounding at the back of your throat. “You have to eat at least a little before you can fall asleep,”

“Don’wanna,”

“I know,” he’s saying sympathetically as he stands, placing your feet on the floor a moment later. You wobble a little, eyes still shut, and he chuckles again, murmuring to himself about how fucking cute you are as he begins to dress you, tugging soft fleece that reeks of him over your head.

—

The rain has slowed to a drizzle by the time you’ve been clothed and fed, constant and leaking from the clouds overhead as you snuggle against Keigo in the plush sanctuary of your shared bed, tummy full and happy with roasted chicken and sauteed veggies. A deep contentment settles itself in your bones, weaving itself around the ivory in a protective glaze and imbuing you with a sense of calm, a sense of relaxation, a sense of relief, and you hum, Keigo’s lithe fingers trailing up your spine absentmindedly.

If you’re being honest, you’re not quite sure how he did it, how he slipped, slithered, seeped through the few cracks in your defence without being violent, without being forceful—how he tore down all of the barricades and shields you had built around yourself, hardened and firm from several years of paranoia and distrust, from the perpetual fear of being hurt again. It should scare you, really, how quickly he did it, how easily and inconspicuously he did it. But it doesn’t.

It doesn’t, because he did it with love; stripping those protective walls with genuity and sincerity, dismantling every brick and stone with gentle touches and soft kisses and tender words. He did it with respect, with patience, with passion and affection and devotion.

So it doesn’t, because there’s nothing to fear—because you’ve never felt more safe in your life, here enveloped by his strong arms and cozy wings, resting on his chest, legs tangled in knots together.

And as you drift off to the gentle pat-pat-pat of the raindrops against the windowpane and the steady thumping of Keigo’s heart echoing in your ears, you realize he’s your very own ray of sunshine, forever present to keep those menacing clouds and malicious thunder away, even in the strongest, the harshest, and the scariest of storms.

[txemrn]

Thanks for tagging me. @sfb123 !

I'm hoping that this post will hold me accountable! This chapter NEEDS to be posted this week... yep, you guessed it. I'm talking about Pour Two Glasses (TW: mentions of blood, bullet wounds, injured main characters)

And there might be a few Open Heart fluffity fluff snippets...

P2G: Ch 5 (TRR; Liam x Riley)

Drake grimaces, holding pressure to his left arm as blood seeps violently from his fresh bullet wound. Sucking in a sharp breath from the pain, he glances to his right where he had pushed Riley down. And hopefully out of the way.

Her body lies still as a pool of deep rouge grows from under her petite, lifeless frame.

"Brooks?" He stretches his neck, wincing at the abrupt shock of sharp torment in his shoulder. He glances back to her, realizing she remains motionless to the sound of her name. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Riley!” He shouts louder. He desperately looks around him, searching for a way to get closer to her. He peers at his injured shoulder and his crimson-stained fingers, and makes a decision.

-----

Open Heart Ask (Ethan x Tatum)

"Did I wake you up?' Tatum guiltily clenches her teeth together.

Ethan nods. He gently grabs her hips before bending over and licking the splatter of batter from the soft skin of her abdomen. "Mmmm," he hums with delight, bringing his lips to press intimately with hers.

"I'm sorry," she tenderly breathes against his mouth, but he steals her words with another kiss. 

Ethan brings his hands to her face, stroking her cheeks as he stares endearingly into her stormy blue eyes. "Don't be," he brushes his nose next to hers before placing another peck on her plump pout. "Nesting looks incredible on you, Mrs. Ramsey," he quietly croons, leaning in for another taste.

-----

Open Heart One-shot: E's bday (E&T)

Suddenly, Ethan feels the heavy bass of his stereo, vibrating the walls of his apartment. He jumps up, throwing on a pair of boxers as he fumbles his way to the bedroom door. He accidentally steps on a pair of cheeky boyshort panties, an instant mischievous grin creeping across his face as he picks them up.

And then he hears her.

"Now the air I tasted and breathed has taken a turn…" she gravelly mimics Eddie Vedder as she carefully spreads icing over a two-tiered cake. Wearing her boyfriend's basketball shorts and white undershirt, she sways her hips slowly to the rock beat.

-----

Who wants to share? @socalwriterbee @ao719 @queenrileyrose @ofmischiefandmedicine @peonierose @cariantha @lsvdw-blog and seriously, anyone else who wants to share their beautiful creations in the fandom! 🖤

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 17)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood, Death, Gore, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Japanese Mythical Folklore, No Major Character Death, !Character Suicide!

Previous Chapter: Non-Standard

Next Chapter: 百鬼夜行 - Hyakki Yakou

Word Count: 3k

Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast @nayydoesthings @a1hina

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Extra Notes: PLEASE CHECK THE TAGS!!! This is one very loaded Chapter. Some might get triggered over the graphic depictions of violence. This is close to a bit of gore.

Chapter 17: Inferno: Flames of Hell

You wake up in the infirmary. Hiroki had healed you beforehand. You abruptly sat up, looking around the room, before finding him, cleaning some medical tools. “Thanks Niichan.” He smiled as he came over to hug you and messed up your hair.

“It’s okay. I didn't think Satoru would push you this hard. He’s a good teacher for you, much as I hate to call him a good teacher. Did you consider going to Tokyo Jujutsu Tech instead? You could’ve gone ya know, we wouldn’t hold you back.”

You mulled it over. “I think I’m staying here. I’ve settled in and everyone around me is amazing. They’re like a second family to me.”

He smiled before looking a bit annoyed. “Yeah well, glad you like them at least. Someone’s been waiting all this time for you. Rude if I don’t let him see ya, right sis?”

Hiroki walked over to the door and opened it, revealing Noritoshi with one hand up as if to knock.

Your mouth opened and closed.

“Y/n.” He was still so determined. What makes him have so much faith in you? You looked back to Hiroki, but he only gave you his trademark "Get your shit together" look and waved you off.

You walked up to Noritoshi by the doorway, and he stood back to let you through. You both ended walking quietly side by side in the hallway.

Noritoshi smiled, you didn’t run away from him for once.

"Y/n, can we… talk if you're up for it?" He asked quietly, a small sad smile on his face.

You took a deep breath, turned to face him and were thrown into a vision.

◇◇◇

"They've found us, run for it, love." Hotaru dragged you away from the small inn you were both staying at.

You stumbled after him and ran off. A member of the Abe clan had seen the both of you in the midst of fighting curses at an abandoned shrine. They tried to chase the both of you down, but you both fought back and ran further away until they’ve lost sight of you.

But currently, you are facing a much larger problem. A shadow in the distance. Just the silhouette of the curse was enough to etch despair deep in your bones.

With four large arms, two faces and a gigantic body, Ryomen Sukuna could be identified easily. You grabbed onto Hotaru and tried to push you both forward with your technique.

"Uraume. After them. I've heard rumours about a fated pair. It seems as if they are the ones." Sukuna smirked.

"As you wish." Uraume quickly caught up to the both of you.

They quickly froze your escape path, sealing you both in a circle of ice. Hotaru held you as you activated Inferno to break the ice and continued running. You were both dangerously running low on cursed energy. Especially as Hotaru had just fought over a dozen of curses.

"Hooh?? The woman does have power. I want her." Sukuna's eyes lit up madly. He shot a flaming arrow, forcing you to push Hotaru behind you.

Sukuna focused and slashed both Hotaru from behind. Uraume shot shards of ice towards you, but Hotaru shifted your positions.

You watched in horror as your lover took the attack for you. He was bleeding profusely and even his technique couldn’t help him from anemia.

“No no no no no, stay with me.” You screamed at him.

“Misaki, my love, for you I’d burn down the world, travel across thousands of miles, and kill anyone who tried to hurt you. I love you and I’m sorry we can’t be together much longer.” He teared up while cupping the side of your cheek.

“No, don’t go.” You leaned down to press your lips against his, trying to give him a bit of air. But it wasn’t enough. His hand fell limp and he breathed his last. Kamo Hotaru died in your arms.

"Hotaru, no." You sobbed out painfully, hugging his cold body to your chest.

"The talk of the town huh? You must be the soulmate pair judging by the marks on your hands." Sukuna stepped up with Uraume right behind him.

He was a terrifying sight upclose.

You froze as he knelt down and lifted your chin, "What a beauty you are. I wouldn't mind playing with you for a while and having you all to myself, before eating you up." He licked his lips lavisciously.

"So young, and such soft skin." Sukuna's hand trailed down your cheek and squeezed along the curves of your trembling body.

You never felt more dirty in your life. A man other than your lover, touching you like this. "Be my toy, would you? Your lover is dead after all. Why not humor me?" Sukuna jeered. He didn’t care about your silent sobs, even relishing in how you looked right now.

Utterly destroyed. With a monster claiming he wants you for himself.

He grabbed your chin roughly and forced a kiss on your lips. You snapped out of your shock, feeling your anger overcome your fear.

‘I'd rather die than let him have me.'

And so, you pushed Sukuna and Uraume far away and built a solid air barrier around you and Hotaru.

You thrust a hand out and an oil lamp came flying your way. It broke in front of you. Inferno was activated to spread the flames quickly. 'We are meant to stay together, my love, even if it means death.' You quickly slit your throat with a harsh cut, not wanting to die a slow death in the flames.

You choked out blood as Sukuna came near. He shattered your barrier easily with Dismantle, reaching for you. You panicked. You weren't going to die in time.

And you did the craziest thing you could think of. Activating Niflheim simultaneously with Inferno. Freezing everything around you, except for the still burning flames consuming you and Hotaru.

It didn't help too much. Sukuna produced flames out of his hand, while Uraume easily manipulated the frost.

Lightning shot out of your hands dangerously in your confusion. You don't know what you just did. But it didn't matter. You were quickly losing consciousness.

Crimson splattered onto the ground and over Hotaru’s corpse. You burned past the limits of your cursed energy, releasing bolts of lightning.

Sukuna’s hand reached out and activated his reverse cursed technique on you. “Not so fast.” He looked angry.

He was able to seal the cut, but with the last of your energy, you used Inferno on your body, bursting into flame before Sukuna and Uraume.

They were forced to back away and stared as you and Hotaru both turned to ash, the heat an insane temperature they couldn’t approach.

Sukuna threw his head back and cackled, "The lengths people go to for love. What fools Jujutsu sorcerers are!"

◇◇◇

The vision ends. You and Noritoshi gasp harshly. The hallway is covered in ice.

You slowly realized you unconsciously activated Niflheim. You swiped your palm through the air. All the windows along the hallway simultaneously opened.

The vision was far too vivid.

You covered your throat with your hands as though to stop a wound from opening, remembering how the dagger dragged through your neck bones. The flames felt painful as they ate at your body without your cursed technique protecting you from them.

Noritoshi kneeled down and touched his gut. He felt the poison of Sukuna's slash and Uraume's ice eat his body. After his past soul had died. Hotaru's spirit watched the events transpire from above you. So he was able to see it from a 3rd person's point of view.

How Sukuna had wanted you. How you ended your life for him.

You staggered back from Noritoshi, face as white as a sheet, running for the bathroom with bile rising up your throat.

That vision was eerily reminiscent of how Sora-nee died in your arms. You were on the borderline of hyperventilating.

Noritoshi ran after you, “Wait!”. You stumbled into the girl’s bathroom, opened a cubicle door and vomited everything out into the toilet.

The sounds of retching were loud even from outside. Noritoshi halted in his tracks when he saw that you’ve gone into the ladies room.

Fuck manners. If it was to take care of you, he doesn’t care about being gentlemanly or if he was called a pervert. He rushed in, wrapped his arms around you, pulled back your hair and rubbed soothing circles on your stomach.

You were vomiting pretty hard, to the point where it hurt your abdomen. “My dear angel, shhhh it's okay, I'm here.” You continued heaving and reached back with one hand to push him away. But Noritoshi was incredibly stubborn, not letting go of you.

“Noritoshi I literally smell like shit, please leave.”

“Nope. I don't care. I will take care of you. As your soulmate I’m responsible for you.”

Your eye twitched at that.

Both of you were still trembling from the aftermath of the vision. How terrible and cursed it was, that past life.

You closed the lid, flushed the toilet, then lifted it again. You leaned over with heavy breaths, but it looks like you’re done puking. Noritoshi just sat behind you, his hands stroking your belly, keeping your body warm.

It was nice. But he’s not yours anymore. It was only then you felt something wet on your shoulder. Noritoshi was crying.

“It almost… felt like I just lost you… My darling...” loud hitches of breath echoed in the bathroom.

You froze, not knowing how to comfort him at a time like this. You patted his head, and he leaned into your hand.

Even as you close your eyes, the images keep racing through the back of your eyelids. Flames. Blood. Lightning. Hotaru.

“I need to wash up in the sink.”

Noritoshi gave a soft grunt in reply, arms tightening around your waist. You stood up and half dragged him out of the cubicle. He never lets go. His arm is still around your waist, making you half waddle around the bathroom with him like a penguin with its child.

You brush your teeth with the spare toothbrush Jujutsu High has for its guests and rinse your mouth with several cups of mouthwash, the strong scent of mint hanging in the air. You spat it all out, but you still felt nauseous.

You turned and wiped away his tears with your sleeve. He bent down and tucked you under his chin, breathing in your scent. You were both alive. It was fine.

You pulled back when the door slammed open. It was Momo and Mai.

“......”

“.....”

The four of you had a stare off before realizing Noritoshi wasn’t supposed to be in there.

“Kamo kun, you’re in the wrong bathroom. Have you dumbed down so much you’ve forgotten?” Momo asked with wide eyes.

Mai stared at you and noticed how sick you looked. You just shook your head at her and quickly walked out of the bathroom, shrugging Noritoshi’s hand off of you.

'To hell with all this.', you thought to yourself

◇◇◇

"Wait!"

Noritoshi caught up to you in the hallway, grabbed your hand and turned you around to face him. He stopped caring about where he was.

"I'm never giving up on you. I won't, because I love you and I know that now."

You sniffed hard, tears running down your cheeks. You've had enough of this confusion. If you're being truthful to yourself, you missed him.

You missed Noritoshi and his kind words. His touch and his kisses. His soft bits of encouragement and picnic dates.

You want him back. It was just as Hiroki had said, you were pushing Noritoshi away without giving him a chance to explain himself.

But the vision completely broke you. You pulled your hand away, "Don't touch me. Don't follow me. Don't come near me." You whispered.

Noritoshi swallowed hard. "Why won't you let me explain myself?" But you just shook your head.

"Maybe we weren't what we thought we were." You didn't mean it, but you still forced the words out painfully.

Noritoshi flinched, "Why would you say that? You believed in us. I still believe in us. In you."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, "That vision. Why did we have it? We could be dooming ourselves by staying together, Noritoshi, I can't do that to you. Maybe I am cursed to hurt the ones I love."

He scoffed. "Preposterous. They are our past lives, but they aren't us. We are different people with different choices. You’re not cursed Y/N, since when have you become so narrow minded?"

You stiffened. "Maybe I have always been so. I'm just tired of everything now. Plus I need to take down that damn curse, even if it kills me." You spun on your heel.

Something inside Noritoshi snapped. He now understands how it feels to be pushed away like an outsider. He grabbed your wrist, ignoring your angry whispers as he single-handedly dragged you back into his room.

This man was strong. Not even your hardest tugs threw him off balance. He slammed the door shut once you were both inside and you felt a bit shaken, not having any place to run.

"Why are you trying to do this all by yourself?! You may be a Special Grade Sorcerer, but that doesn't mean you're invincible! A war is not won by one person. Can't you trust me?" He hissed.

"Trust you? Trust you?! How about me? Big words from someone who didn't even want to let me meet or know the people he holds dear to him."

This was the most idiotic argument you had in your life. You didn't even mean half the words that you were saying. Just wanting to win a pointless argument you wished never existed in the first place.

"I thought you agreed to speak to me if that was still bothering you. You said we would work things out together." Noritoshi shook your shoulders.

You held your tongue not knowing what else to say. Noritoshi was still so sweet after all this mess. Pulling you into a warm embrace, patting your head as he cries into your shoulder.

"Will you stay with me at least? During the war.”

"Of course." You didn't even think as you agreed. Even Noritoshi looked surprised at your lack of reluctance. "I won't lose you."

You both stood awkwardly there, not knowing what to do. Noritoshi didn't want you to leave yet, wanting to bask a bit more in your presence. His mark cooled down as his hand slipped into yours.

But you stepped and turned away from him, ignoring how his fingers desperately clung onto the hem of your shirt. "I'll go then… Don’t want to intrude... "

"Would you like to stay for dinner and talk?" He called out hopefully.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'll be with Hiro-nii in my room." You purse your lips.

"I love you." He said once more. There was no room for hesitation in his voice.

You paused, temples throbbing heavily from the onset of a headache. Too many thoughts raced through your head and not all of them were good.

"I don't know what you heard the other day, but I will never take in any concubines. You're my one and only, Angel."

You only half believed him right now, his words going in one ear and leaving through the other. ‘People can lie. He is capable of lying.’ your shitty brain just makes every situation sound worse each time. This type of negative line of thinking was so unhealthy.

He must have understood your thoughts.

"My love please," he's begging you now. You turn to him, face full of confusion and hurt. You opened your mouth, and thought better.

This wasn't the best time to run your thoughts.

"I’m sorry for being in a really bad headspace right now. Are you willing to wait for me?" This time it was you who asked him this. Noritoshi studied your face before nodding. “That’s okay. As you have with me, I will do the same with you.”

You sucked a deep breath, eyes watering. “I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared, we are just kids. We aren’t supposed to bear the weight of saving a nation this early on.”

“I don’t want to lose anyone anymore.”

“You won’t. We won’t.”

“I’m sorry for being such a pain. I know we need to talk about all of this, eventually.” You couldn’t help the whimpers that came out of your mouth.

“I love every bit of you. Even if you're like this… No... Because I understand how you feel. You have a right to be angry, because I held back a lot of things from you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you or love you.” He carefully put out a palm facing up, allowing you to make a choice. You slowly put your hand over his.

“For real?” you whispered so quietly, he had to strain his ears to hear you.

“For real. Since when have I lied to you?”

‘Not once.’ you numbly thought.

Who knew a man could be so delicate. He held your hand lightly, not daring to squeeze it. Just a sign of openness and faith. He lowered his head towards you, eyes hooded.

You shivered as his lips brushed against the back of your hand. Soft, warm and plush. Like the first time he kissed you on the cheek. Shaky yet loving.

"Get some rest then, good night." You left the room.

He wondered if you still loved him now. Gone were the nights you soundly slept in his arms. He could barely pull himself together as he readied himself for dinner and bed.

Back in your room, you sobbed into your pillow. It hurts so much, because your faith in Noritoshi isn’t what it used to be. You wish for yourself to trust him like you did before. It’s frustrating.

There are times you wish you never heard that conversation. But that means staying ignorant to his familial affairs which won't do you any good in the long run.

Love is painful. Love feels like you've filled your lungs with water and you can't breathe. Sometimes it's like that icy inhale of the cold morning air on the winter solstice.

But it also keeps you going. The warmth of being in Noritoshi's arms earlier was more than enough to convince you to stay.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[herpronuonsarefemslash]

Satisfaction Brought it Back - TEASER

The one where Lena ghosted Kara rather than going villain, Kara went into reporting on human rights abuses in warzones and Lena started a project to take medical information for aliens and their anatomy to help human hospitals.

And then volunteer Subject 99 walks in for a full exam and Lena wonders if she can pretend she's doing anything other than "playing doctor" while learning about Kara's unique body. But her traitor heart just wants to play house. SEE THE REST HERE: https://www.patreon.com/posts/56078508 ===== Alana helps the gray-scaled Jorviunan gentleperson down from the exam table. Five genders on a three-pole gradient, the species file says. Subject 98 uses he/him according to the survey. But it's not right. She's gotten enough peripheral glances of herself in a ballroom's mirror, gritting her teeth and using the identity of least resistance when one of Lillian's friends slid a hand around her back. Lena's been in both the human medicine and xenobiology games long enough to know when a word tastes bad in someone's mouth. Or fangs. Or pincers. Or feelers. Or bioelectrically charged water-filtering membranes. Subject 73 was a Vyllnat who rolled in the other day who looked like she belonged on a Wikipedia article about the Dykes on Bikes movement with the zinger being that her partner was checking in for the session in the next bay during the same time slot. Mating for them involves snuggling close and sharing body heat until their physiologies sync up enough to allow genetic material to simply seep through softened skin. What Lena thought was a rather plain leather riding jacket was, in fact, skin that just looked like supple black leather. Membranous flaps that adults use to seal each other's bodies in an airtight embrace during one of these sessions. A mutually embarrassing moment involving Lena stumbling and nearly wiping out with a tray of sharps and some accidentally-spit acid revealed the tight jeans were really fifteen feet of muscular tail as thick as Lena's waist trailing behind 73 in a holographic concealment field. Lena even weaseled her into letting her take 3D scans of all five sets of interlocking fangs and slicing teeth and a venom sample.

Late that night, Lena might have put a few minutes of Clash of the Titans on loop while she got herself off. Sue her. The idea of reproduction by snuggling is even gayer than a race of medusa-ish beings who come in three flavors of what could only really be called female in a human framework.

"Next subject?" Lena asks, looking up at Alana who is tapping some commands to the repurposed attack drone of Lex's they use to burn any biohazards off the equipment.

"iPad," Alana replies, her eyes sparkling a bit too much as she directs three streams of particle-dissolving energy. Lena sometimes gets a distinct whiff of Kate McKinnon's character in Ghostbusters, except that not only is Alana weird and unapologetic and intense, she's also a first-generation immigrant. She tears through American pop culture like Kara tears through potstickers, so Lena's never 100% sure if Alana's showing up in an outfit that looks like business-safe cosplay on purpose or not. Some city in Nigeria is missing their resident mad genius, to National City's benefit. ===== "Uh, hi."

Rude, is all Lena can think at first. She had heard through the 'DEO to Alex to Kelly to the group texts of doctors who deal with aliens' pipeline that Supergirl had gone from on-patrol to emergency use only around the time that blogs gushed about one of CatCo's human passing journalists coming out as alien and then leaving the company. She was trying very hard not to stalk Kara's Instagram at the time so she didn't follow up. Something something independent reporter in the field somewhere somewhere bringing attention to the plight of someone someone.

Lena only avoided full-on alcoholism over the last year by screening out all reminders of Kara's existence, which let her pretend. Which didn't make it hurt any less when Jess came into her office a few months ago and said that Kara Danvers had come by to ask if Lena had gotten a new cell phone. Kara's first thought wasn't Lena being a cruel, overdramatic mess of gay thirst and Luthor trauma. She trusted Lena's good nature, so her first thought was clerical error.

Kara seems to have taken being ghosted in stride because she spent the last six months getting somehow even hotter than she already was, which probably violates some United Nations Convention on placing dangerous pressure on the human body or something.

Her hair is the same length, but it's tied in a hasty ponytail that's tied off with a scrunchy made of honest-to-god paracord the same crimson as her cape. She's let the curl come back in--how did she straighten it, anyway?--so it doesn't look like Supergirl's sheets of gold more suited for a damsel in diaphanous silk than the halo of an avenging angel. What it evokes is a stallion's mane, glossy in the harsh light and waving as the beast moves.

The dresses that never suited her are gone, and the button ups are back but now they're a thick flannel or something worn half-unbuttoned over a burgundy tee shirt that clings tight and reveals the corners of the suit's breastplate underneath. She could trace the glyph through it, which means if Lena could only get her out of the damn suit, it would revea--FOCUS, she reminds herself--and rather than CatCo-required chinos Kara is in black denim that hangs loose at rest but molds to her muscles when she walks over to put her coat across the 'patient clothing' rack. Each flex and tense tells Lena way too much about how powerful her thighs are and also not nearly enough about what it would feel to have the--FOCUS, Lena--and Jesus take the wheel Kara's even wearing combat boots covered in a fresh coat of pale dust that could just as easily be from a hiking trail north of town or a warzone in Somalia.

"It's funny. On the plane, back from Kasnia? I almost told you."

When she couldn't stop fidgeting with her glasses. Her hair was a mess when she escaped from the Eve clones. She had her glasses off and her hair down and she was going to show me... Lena realizes.

She makes a sound she doesn't even recognize and suddenly she's in Kara's arms, her knees sting from hitting the floor before Kara knelt with her. She's slapping ineffectively against the protective firmness around her and watching her own tears fall like it's happening to someone else.

Kara shushes her and rocks her back and forth and doesn't ask before kissing her forehead. Lena doubts she thought about it consciously. Maybe when she is released, she can complain about lack of consent or maybe she'll demand another kiss to make it all better.

=====

"Lena, I really can't do this. Not like this, not with you."

Reality slams down around Lena like the doors in a haunted house closing.

"Of course. I can schedule you with Alana or per-"

Kara molds her hands to Lena's hipbones and pulls her into her arms. She takes her with force, cupping Lena's head and holding her fast. She nips at Lena's lip and uses the moan as a chance to lick into Lena's mouth. Hot and wet and impatient, her tongue seasoned with ginger and orange and grease, cut with the waiting room mints. She kisses like she eats, greedily and curiously and bottomless. Kara hums and holds and presses and licks and nips and sucks. She brings one hand up to Lena's neck and curls around her pulse, rubbing her thumb along Lena's windpipe. She doesn't seem to notice or care that Lena can't do this forever because Kara wants to do this forever and fuck human failings like a need for oxygen. Lena has to bite her tongue to get her to retreat. It would've drawn blood on a human but Kara just moans and pulls back.

"Christ, Kara."

Kara licks her lips lazily. The chilly blue that reminds Lena of ice caps and winter skies is darkened and her pupils are swollen and fucking hell Lena can even see little white crackles in the depths of them, rising towards the surface like caged lightning.

[angryschnauzer]

Superior Specimen - Chapter 4

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, 

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Chapter 4

 The following few days were busy; it was the weekend and you were on duty both days, plus the following Monday and Tuesday. As it was the height of summer the museum was at its busiest, tourists, locals, and school groups all filling the halls of the old building, plus with a research team now on site the underground laboratories where people could get hands on with less valuable specimens were hugely popular. 

 During one of your breaks you decided to grab a frozen treat from the gift shop, making your way down to the viewing laboratories to see what the teams were up to. Sucking on the fruity ice you peered through the window, your eyes going wide when you saw Henry at the front of the classroom, thirty school children avidly listening to his every word. He glanced up and saw you looking through the window, a sly wink in your direction and his attention was back on the class who were all enraptured by what he was saying. You finished your snack and slipped quietly into the room, standing at the back where few paid little attention to you. Henry called out to the class;

 “So, I hope you have enjoyed the presentation, are there any questions?”

 Several small hands shot up, and you estimated the kids must have been around 9 or 10 years old;

 “Do you ever dig pyramids up?”

 Henry chuckled;

 “No, that’s Archaeology. I am a Palaeontologist. Archaeology is the study of humans; Palaeontology is the study of fossils… they do sometimes overlap where settlements will have been made in the ice age though”

 “Have you ever found a T-rex?”

 “Yes, I was part of a dig in America when we found an excellent complete specimen a few years back”

 “Do you have a girlfriend?”

 Your ears pricked up at the question, and you watched as a slight blush covered Henry’s cheeks and his ears went a cute shade of crimson. He let out a low chuckle;

 “Yes, yes I do”

 “Does she like bones too?” came an innocent voice and you could have sworn most of the teachers on the trip had to stifle their laughter. Henry cleared his throat;

 “Well, you can ask her yourself, she’s joined us and is standing at the back of the room”

 At that moment thirty heads snapped around, eyes going wide when they saw you and recognised you from giving them their visitors lanyards upon arrival. Henry cleared his throat;

 “Well darling, do you like bones?” he cocked an eyebrow and you could see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You cleared your throat;

 “Yes, I studied Palaeontology at university and look forward to further studies on bones under Dr Cavill’s instruction”

 The kids seemed satisfied with that answer, and as you looked at the teachers you could see some of them had tears rolling down their cheeks from where they were trying so hard not to laugh.

 The class soon ended, the kids packing up their bags and visitors’ packs, everyone thanking Henry for the informative lesson, and when the door finally closed it was just the two of you in the large white room. Standing next to him you smiled;

 “So… bones huh?”

 He snorted out a laugh as he gathered up the samples into a box, nodding to a miniature model of a Diplodocus;

 “Just grab that would you, need to get everything packed away”

 Following him into the storage room you slid the model onto a shelf before suddenly a strong pair of arms was wrapped around you from behind, soft lips pressing kisses to your neck and you were practically melting into Henry’s arms;

 “Fuck… your mouth is so good…”

 He spun you around and his lips met yours, his tongue eagerly pushing into your mouth and you felt yourself  submitting completely to the skilled muscle as he kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you flush with the hard plains and curves of his body. When you finally broke apart you were both breathless;

 “So Princess, what do you really think of my bone?”

 “Well, I haven’t actually had any experience of your bone yet”

 “Dinner, Friday night?”

 A huge smile spread over your face;

 “That would be wonderful… just let me know where and when”

 “I’ll pick you up at 7”

 “Where are we going?”

 He grinned;

 “I’ll pull in a favour, but it’ll be high end… black tie, etcetera”

 -

 You’d returned on a high back to your desk, already thinking about what you would wear on your date. You worked hard, the steady flow of visitors wanting help was continual, and you were tested to the limits of your knowledge of languages with so many international visitors needing assistance.

 However at the back of your mind a synapse was firing, and your attention was drawn to a group of older teenagers, in fact they were probably in their early 20’s. They didn’t seem to be with any of the school groups and didn’t look in the vaguest bit interested in the exhibits. They were however hovering around one of the large donation stations; the large Perspex fish tanks with a slot in the top for visitors to drop coins and notes into. In recent days visitors had been very generous, and there was a large number of notes sitting on top of the heavier coins. Once you had served the visitor who needed help finding the Butterflies exhibit you grabbed the security radio, paging the security guards and calling out a code 10 - suspicious activity/suspected theft. Two of the guards near the door looked at you and you nodded to the group and the guards started to slowly move towards them. 

 As you slotted the radio back into the cradle something else caught your eye, a young man intently looking at the backpack hanging on the back of a wheelchair as its user and carer were reading one of the large displays. 

 Suddenly he snatched the backpack and was running for the door, you called out to security, but the noise of the room was too much to be heard, but you could see the person in the wheelchair look in horror;

 “My medication!” you could read their lips as they shouted and without thinking you were pushing out of the desk and yelling back to your colleague;

 “Get security, the group was a distraction!”

 Thankful you’d worn flat shoes; you were running after the thief who was struggling to get through the crowds. He was out the front doors and down the steps way ahead of you, but the curved driveway was packed with visitors which was slowing him down giving you chance to gain on him. 

 Your legs were powerful beneath you, racing through the now parted crowds and as he took a sharp left to run down the ramp to the lawns you were gaining on him. It was painfully obvious what was going on, the man was carrying a bright flowery bag under his arm, and was being chased by a member of museum staff in uniform, so when two policemen that had been patrolling the area saw you in the distance, they started running towards you. The thief spotted them, slowing his run as he attempted to figure a way out, except the lawns only had two exits; the one the two of you had entered by, and the one the two policemen were now running down. His moment of indecision cost him his lead, and as you caught up you didn’t wait to talk, you ran fully into him, knocking him to the ground and the pair of you into the shrubs that surrounded the lawns. 

 The next thing you knew the two policemen were pulling the thief to his feet and arresting him, security having caught up with the pair of you. A passer-by offered you a hand, helping you up but you felt wobbly on your feet. Someone helped you to the grass to sit in the shade, and you winced as a tissue was pressed to your head;

 “You’re bleeding”

 -

 As you sat in a treatment area of the Chelsea & Westminster Hospital’s casualty department, the lovely policeman that had driven you there quietly took your statement between visits from the nursing staff. There had been a bad accident in Covent Garden, so all the paramedic and ambulance crews had been called to that, and with a head wound you needed to be treated. As you had been helped into the squad car you’d overheard that the thief had also been armed with a knife, and it shook you, to where as soon as you were able to you’d been sat down with a cup of strong sweet tea as the Officer had gotten you to hospital.

 One of the nurses fussed around you, checking on the stitches for the thankfully small wound that was mostly in your hairline;

 “It’ll sting like a bastard - excuse the language - for a few days, but you’ll be fine with over the counter painkillers. If you show any signs of concussion make sure to call 999… do you know what the signs are?”

 You nodded and explained you’d covered it on your first aid course you’d taken for work as she went on;

 “I’ll see if we can get a doctor to discharge you soon. It would also be advisable if you could ensure you don’t spend the night alone… it was quite a solid bump you had”

 “Ok sure” you nodded as you watched her walk away, the Officer turning to you;

 “Is there someone I can call to come pick you up? A boyfriend or girlfriend?”

 “Umm… boyfriend…” using the word gave your mind a happy tingle at the thought of calling Henry your boyfriend; “But I don’t have his number memorised… and I left my phone at the museum… you could message him on Instagram I suppose?”

 He pulled his personal phone out of his pocket;

 “Sure thing… what’s his username?”

 You told him and watched as his eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead;

 “This him?” he turned his phone and you nodded when you saw Henry’s page, sitting quietly as the officer quickly tapped out a message, his phone beeping almost instantly to which he smiled; “he said he’s on his way”

 -

 Fifteen minutes later you were being discharged by the doctor when you heard Henry’s voice, the Officer with you peering out of the curtained area before ducking back in;

 “Ok he’s here…”

 Moments later Henry appeared at the curtain, rushing in and pulling you into a giant bear hug. With you still crushed to his chest by one arm he extended a hand to the officer, thanking him for helping you. 

 Soon he was walking you to his car, parked on double yellow lines outside the hospital and with a parking ticket flapping on the windscreen, he helped you into the car before grabbing the ticket and climbing in beside you. Instead of starting the car he reached over and gently cupped your cheek;

 “How are you doing Princess?”

 You went to speak but all that came out of your mouth was a squeak, the tears starting to flow as the shock and stress of the afternoon came flowing out. He leant across the car and wrapped his massive arms around you, letting you sob into his shoulder as he gently held you. When you finally stopped sobbing, he pulled away and looked into your eyes, he steel blue gaze full of concern;

 “How about we get you home?”

 “Please...” you said with a sigh; “but my bag is still at the museum…”

 “Check the glovebox” he nodded, and you pulled the handle and your bag was there; “I got your supervisor to get it for you as soon as I got the message from the police officer… and I guess our relationship just became public too with the staff…”

 “I don’t care” you said with a smile as he started to drive.

Chapter 5 >>>

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Frigid

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Story Rating: Explicit

Genre: Fluff / Hurt / Comfort / Romance 

Story Warnings: Topics of Depression / Body Image, Relationship Drama (implied / suspected cheating), Arguments, Cursing, Sex (rough: choking, dirty talk), Foreplay 

Words: 8,070

Summary: Hiking with your long-term boyfriend had always been an enjoyable, if not a bit challenging, experience. In the dead of winter, he talks you into trudging up the mountain side, but there’s more than just the frigid cold that needs to be conquered. Guilt, regret, and the loss of a connection that you once had with him all put out in the open, it is up to you both to fix what had been broken and reignite your frozen hearts. 

a/n: I know, this is a long one! But I didn’t want to split it up and ruin the pace, so I hope you enjoy the read! ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ Sorry for all the negativity that came through on this one, but I promise I pull it around with cute fluff, hot make up sex, and super sweet Bakugou that’ll make your heart melt. (⺣◡⺣)♡*

Please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

You had always greatly enjoyed the winter season, that much you could admit. The cool weather, softly falling snow, and cheerful atmosphere made it perfect for gathering with loved ones and celebrating the holidays. Bundling up in warm clothes and scarves with fabric so soft it felt like the gentle kisses from your lover, tender and warming you to the core. Warmth is what you loved most about the winter, in the form of a cozy fireplace, your lover's arms around you, or enjoying a hot cup of tea beneath a wool blanket and fuzzy socks. It was a time to cuddle, to rest, to love, and to give. 

Yes, you loved winter and all the pleasant things that came with it. 

But not right now. No, in fact, you despised the ice-cold wind blowing against your face as you trudged up the side of a mountain, the current angle of the snow-covered ground barely ascendable without tools. Your legs ached with each push and pull you had to make to heave your body up, and though you figured it would have gotten easier by now, the struggle only continued to grow heavier on your body. Nearly six hours, now, you had been following your lover up this mountain path, and with only two breaks in between, you were near your limit. But, even if you begged to stop now, that wasn’t possible. 

You had gone climbing and hiking with your hotheaded lover enough times to know his routine. This path in particular was one you had gone up a couple of times while dating, but never in the winter. Sure, he had gone in the colder months, but you had never felt up to it all the years before. Somehow, he had talked you into it this time, dragging you excitedly out into the wilderness. He loved this sport, and even if you had always supported him in the past, that encouragement was nonexistent. Right now, you wished that he liked something a little easier, safer, warmer, or just straight up boring. 

Chess, maybe? Or perhaps an indoor sport like volleyball or badminton, you could get into one of those easily. You even preferred his intense workout regimen over this hell! Yet, here you were, clutching your cold gloved hands around a tree root to pull yourself up onto a rock ledge. As you came to rest on your knees, you felt all your breath leave you, the weight of your backpack and other luggage suddenly feeling like it weighed a ton. 

“K-Katsuki, wait a second!” 

Having heard your plea, Bakugou stopped, looking back at you. You couldn’t see his face, as it was covered with goggles around his eyes and a face mask to protect his nose, mouth and neck. Hood of his jacket pulled up as well, all you could see was a small tuft of his blonde hair sticking out around his forehead, which bounced about in the wind. You were pretty much the same as far as being protected from the cold and wind, though it was still enough to make your cheeks and tip of your nose tingle and burn. 

After a quick glance around him to check your surroundings, Bakugou jumped and slid back down, kneeling beside you once he could. “Are you hurt?” 

Even though it crossed your mind to lie that you had in hopes he would take it easier on you, the truth prevailed, and you gave a small shake of your head. Pulling down your mouth and nose cover so you could talk better, you wiped your nose with the back of your glove. “No, no. I just got winded suddenly… This path is a lot harder in the winter.” 

Bakugou sighed, pulling down his own mask before pushing up his goggles, glancing over you with that brilliant crimson glare that nearly made you flush with embarrassment. “Honestly, I didn’t expect it to be this shitty today. It’s worse than what I read online. But you’re doing good! Don’t tap out already.” 

His encouragement was inspiring, but only for a moment, as you were both suddenly assaulted with a new rush of wind. Whining in detest, you put your mask back on, vigorously rubbing your cheeks. “L-Let’s just keep going so we can find a place to camp!” 

“The spot is about another half mile away. Get your ass up, babe, you got this!” Standing, Bakugou took hold of your arms, helping you to your feet. Even through the layers of clothes, you could feel how warm his hands were, and you wished so desperately for him to just hug and hold you. You knew that it would come eventually, but not until you got your aching body up the mountain, got the tent set up, and were cuddled in your sleeping bags. Just knowing that was what awaited you at the end of this was enough to spur you forward, and so, you followed him up the hill. 

Eventually, you came to a spot in the path that became level, winding around the side of the mountain until the wind was no longer beating down on you. It was still strong enough to be bothersome, but you could tolerate it, especially since the path was now quite pleasant to walk on. You were still too out of breath for conversation, and though Bakugou seemed perfectly fine, he didn’t bother to speak either. The company you shared was comfortable enough to not require constant talking, and it helped that you and your lover were of the quiet type, anyway. 

It was a time to be at peace, in nature with the only responsibility is keeping yourselves alive and safe. That, and it was a way to expel all that extra energy that had built up over the previous months. At least, it was for Bakugou, and not so much for yourself. The blonde beside you, now in his late twenties, had quickly become a prominent and famous pro hero after graduating high school. He loved the action, the testing of his skills, continued growth, and challenges that the position gave him. But, with all that enjoyment came the stresses of owning an agency. Politics, media, sidekicks, reputation, rumors, and all that bad stuff weighed heavily on him. He needed to get away, where no one could find him and no one would need him, except you. 

Out here in the wilderness is where he found that peace, high up and away from the chaos, - or monotony, depending on the day - that was his life. Why he wouldn’t prefer to take a vacation to a warm tropical island instead of this freezing mountainside, you weren’t sure, and though it was difficult for you to power through, you were glad you came with him. 

The sight of your typical camping ground was heavenly, feeling a rush of relief when you finally laid eyes upon it. With the thick cover of still thriving pine trees above it, the ground was only lightly dusted with snow, giving you some hope that camping here for the night wouldn’t be quite so uncomfortable. Bakugou seemed to think the same as he gave a heavy sigh, one that you recognized to be of relief, before he pulled his water canister off his pack to take a swig. Once done, he handed it towards you, and you took a healthy gulp of the cold water. 

“This is good,” Bakugou started, taking the canister back from you once you were done. “We won’t have to clear out much.” 

“Thank goodness…” You couldn’t contain your tired groan, lifting your goggles for a moment to rub your eyes. “This has all but killed me!” 

“And look, you’re still standing, like the badass woman you are,” slipping his hands beneath your hood to caress your neck, Bakugou stroked both of your cheeks with his thumbs while he leaned in for a kiss. You welcomed the affection, heat rushing to your cheeks from his encouragement and warmth of his lips against yours. “Soon we can rest.” Two more soft kisses were shared before he pulled away from you, heading towards the clearing as he shifted his luggage off his back. “I’m ready for some fucking food!” 

Smiling, you followed his example, removing your pack and placing it down to dig for your compact snow shovel. “I call dibs on the mashed potatoes!”

“Like hell you do! I’ve had dibs on that since I packed it!” 

The next three hours were spent shoveling away snow and ice, setting up the tent, and prepping the entire area to make a comfortable campsite. Since you planned on being here for two nights, you and your lover made extra sure that it was as perfect as it could be to enjoy the solitude. Sure, there was some playing around in between, with a snowball thrown or a slap to the behind as you were bent over your work, but it didn’t hinder your process at all. That was one thing that you loved about Bakugou, how he was so diligent in getting things done, but he left enough room to make the task enjoyable for you both.  

Nothing was as satisfying as setting the fire ablaze, watching the sticks and kindling begin to burn with orange embers. That was the final step to begin your time of relaxation in the chilly winter air, to settle around the fire and begin boiling water for your food. It felt like heaven when you could finally sit, the log you had dragged over earlier the equivalent to a luxury leather couch to your sore body. Bag of climbers freeze dried mashed potatoes on your lap, you ate them with eager fervor once properly prepared, feeling like your stomach had been empty for years. Your boyfriend was the same, scarfing down his noodles before they could even have time to cool down. 

“Ah, ow, fuck that’s hot-!” Bakugou spoke as he shoved the noodles into his waiting mouth, not bothering to at least blow on them or let the dusk winter air cool them off first. Giggling as you waited for the bite on your spoon to cool, you gave a shake of your head, knowing that anything you say wouldn’t stop him. There was nothing that could get between him and his food, though you figured that you could at least attempt, so that if he disagreed, you could still argue later that you had tried. 

“Katsuki, give it a minute! You don’t have to eat it while it’s still hot, let it cool a little. You can always reheat it if it gets too cold.” 

“No!” As expected, he glowered at you, protectively holding the bag of noodles closer to his chest, his cheeks stuffed to the brim. “I want them while they’re hot! Shut up and eat your potatoes, since you just had to have them.” 

“Hey, I won fair and square. It’s not my fault you suck at rock-paper-scissors, don’t be all grumpy at me.” 

Grumbling in his typical grumpy fashion, Bakugou focused on eating his noodles, avoiding looking at you in his defeat. You knew that he wasn’t actually upset with you, and you weren’t with him, so the silence that fell was just as comfortable as it always was. The crackling fire was calming, as was the heat that rolled off the wood in soft waves, and paired with the hot food, it helped to warm you from the belly out. Eventually, you finished all you could stomach to eat, and you happily rested against your lover's side with a heavy yawn. 

“So,” You began, watching him scrape every little bit of food out of the noodle pack. “What was the reason for your decision to come out here this time, hm?” 

“I just needed a weekend away… Before the parties and shit for the holidays begin. I can’t stand all that fucking nonsense… Especially with what happened last year.” 

Your stomach churned at the mere mention of last year's horrible events, and though the two of you had gotten past that by now, those horrible feelings still crept up on you like a million spiders against your skin. Almost a year ago, you had almost lost him, but not to injury or some other tragic event. No, it was another woman, someone who he had been ‘seeing’ before you ever got his attention. Emphases on ‘seeing’, as he had never committed himself to her relationship wise, nor did she ever to him. 

No, she decided that she wanted him back all these years later, after he had gotten rich, famous, and successful. So, what does she do? Barges into his agency’s Christmas party, of course, dressed to impress and showing enough skin to make any man blush, no matter if they were taken or not. And Bakugou, at this time, had been with you for just over three years, so he was very securely in the ‘taken’ category. 

Did this woman know that? Yes, of course she did. Did that stop her from nearly ruining your relationship? Absolutely not. 

With a small sigh, you nuzzled your nose into the warmth of his jacket against his shoulder, keeping yourself squished beside him as close as you could get. “I wish I could have been there… That would have at least made things a little easier to deal with. Maybe I could have even stopped her…” 

“That woman was insane. I don’t think anything would have stopped her. I barely could.” Bakugou finished with his noodles, placing his trash and yours in a trash bag he had beside his feet. “I already told you not to beat yourself up about that, none of it was your fault.” 

Although you tried to believe him, there was still a sense of guilt that rested on your shoulders when it came to how everything played out. Sick with a cold, you had been stuck at home, resting. You had recently moved into Bakugou’s apartment with him, so being without him that night had been lonely, especially since you knew he was out probably very much enjoying himself. So, you lay in bed and spent your hours moping, sleeping, and fiddling around on your phone as you awaited his return. 

It was around midnight when you noticed something trending on social media, and the familiar hashtag that represented Bakugou’s brand immediately made you feel sick to your stomach. Usually, it wouldn’t have, if not for the words ‘scandal’, ‘womanizer’, and ‘cheater’ being so ominously paired with it. As you began to look at the tag, you immediately felt sick to your stomach as you were bombarded with pictures of Bakugou quite passionately kissing this other woman. Of course, at that moment, you couldn’t think rationally. All you could think of was that this was how it all ended, all the passion and love between the two of you being nothing but hot air. 

You confronted him the instant he got home, after waiting until nearly three in the morning, sobbing and near hysterical. It was impossible, all his reasonings and proof that it wasn’t as it seemed incomprehensible to your broken heart. In the end, you left his apartment to instead go stay in a hotel, as you had moved far from your family and friends to be with him. Delirious with fever and emotion, you didn’t even let him know where you were staying for three days, and you figured that this would be the end of your relationship. 

That is, until you saw the new trending reports of the event, including the woman filing a harassment and assault charge against Bakugou. With it, you saw the video of Bakugou throwing the woman to the floor after she quite literally pounced on him, kissing him feverishly. What had looked like passion in the pictures you had seen was now made obvious to you that it was Bakugou fighting back, only successful in pushing the woman off him once he regained his footing. 

At first, you weren’t sure if you could return to him now. You had said such awful things to him, called him horrible names and treated him like he had been the bad guy in this entire endeavor. Would he even want you back after you lost your faith in him so quickly? 

To your surprise, there was not an inch of hesitation in him welcoming you back home. Much unlike his usually stern and rough personality, he held and caressed you tightly to him as you cried, soaking in each other's presence and love. All apologies were accepted and forgiveness given, all that was left was for him to fully explain what happened, and he did in explicit detail. This was paired with conversations he had with the police, with other videos that you hadn’t seen before, and all the proof that you would need to see and understand that what happened was nothing but a malicious plot put into place by this other woman. 

“She hasn’t admitted this,” he had told you, having not let you out of his arms for a good two hours at this point. “But I know what that bitch was up to. She either wanted to see if I would go back to her, and if I didn’t, then she was going to use my reaction to get money out of me in court. She knew that I would throw her off me, and she could claim I injured her, which is exactly what she’s done with these new bullshit charges.” 

You believed him, of course, and did everything you could to support him through the entire grueling process. But there was that unconscious twinge of pain in your chest and the heavy weight of doubt every time the woman claimed that they had been communicating secretly for months prior. With every dirty detail she would give, she would stare at you if you were present, the crocodile tears hiding the malicious intent. It weighed heavily on your confidence, and the more the lies got to you, the more damage it dealt to your relationship. 

It had all ended just about two months ago, when the woman finally gave up and all charges were dropped. In the end, she didn’t get a single penny from Bakugou, but his reputation had already been damaged from the bad publicity. His ratings dropped, his stress load doubled, and as a result, he was nearly always grumpy. You could barely get a word out of him, let alone enjoy each other’s company as you always had. 

Up until this trip, when you agreed to go with him, you hadn’t seen him smile or get excited about anything. In that smile, that excited kiss you shared, you saw hope that things would finally turn around for the better. A year on shaky ground in a relationship had been horribly taxing on you both, but being here with him and sticking through it told you that, if you were together, you could get through anything. 

Right? 

“I suppose that… Well… I guess a lot of the trouble afterwards was my fault. How I handled it… I could have been better.” You carefully let your arm hook with his. “I was just… too scared and shocked… to think that we would end like that.” 

“I hope that we won’t.” 

“Huh?” The morbid and pessimistic comment instantly made your heart sink, sitting up to peer up at him. “What do you mean…? We’re better now, aren’t we?” 

Brow furrowed deeply, Bakugou’s gaze was locked on the still crackling fire. That look of intense and blank focus is what you had seen for weeks now, as if he were contemplating something he wanted to say but was worried about the consequences. If he wanted to break up with you, to end it all, why would he drag you out here like this? Was it a last-ditch effort to see if being alone out here in the wilderness could save you? 

“Katsuki…?” You couldn’t control the slight waiver in your voice as your worry grew, watching his expression falter for just a moment at the sound. As you waited for his response, you kept your grip tight on the fabric of his jacket sleeve, worried that he would suddenly up and leave you there. Instead, he only sighed, reaching up and rubbing the left side of his face before pushing the hood of his jacket off. 

“Be honest with me,” Bakugou finally spoke, clasping his hands together between his knees, elbows resting on his thighs. “You still don’t trust me, do you?” 

“What? Of course I trust you; I don’t understand where this is coming from.” 

“I’ve seen it… That moment of hesitation when I tell you I’m going anywhere. For a business trip, with my friends, anywhere that you can’t go with me. That fear that something like this will happen again… You still feel that way.” 

You turned a bit more to face him, placing your hand gently on his forearm. “Katsuki, that has nothing to do with my trust for you. I trust you completely, I know that what happened wasn’t your fault and you weren’t… You weren’t talking to that girl behind my back.” 

Right? 

“You say that, [Name], but I can still hear and see it on your face that you doubt me.” 

“No, that isn’t true. I don’t doubt you at all, it’s other women out there that I don’t trust.” 

I doubt myself. Am I good enough for you? Am I really worth all this trouble after what I put you through? I’m… I’m still putting him through it. I’m still hurting him. 

“What type of relationship is that, if you’re going to fret and worry about everything that I go and do, even if it’s not your distrust in me? How can you be happy like that?” Bakugou let out a heavy sigh, reaching up to rub his temple. “How can we be happy like that? Constantly worried that this will happen again, and we won’t make it next time.” 

“But we would. If we can stay together through this, then we should be able to tackle anything. Unless…” 

Unless you really don’t think I’m strong enough… 

Bakugou fell silent, chin resting in his hand, elbow on his thigh, and eyes still watching the fire. There was something new there, a sadness that you hadn’t seen in a very long time. “I wanted to come out here to see if we could find it again… That comfort and that peace that I’ve always felt with you. I figured that out here, where we had our first kiss during the middle of summer, where we were sweating like mad and you made me feel so… good. I had hoped it would come back. While we were distracted, hiking, setting up camp… sure, it felt normal, but now? Fuck, I want it back… I want us back.” 

Swallowing the hard lump that had grown in your throat, you clutched onto his arm tightly, hiding your face into the fabric to try and control the urge to cry. “I-I do, too… But I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried to be normal, but… We haven’t healed yet…” 

“Then how can we…?” 

The silence that fell was deafening, not even the crackling of fire registering in your panicked mind. Was this really going to be the end? Your years of happiness, of love and passion with this man… was it really all for nothing? That first kiss, the tearful moment he first said ‘I love you’, the feeling of being so complete just by holding his hand, the warmth of waking up every morning in his arms. It would all be gone if you both didn’t find a way to recover those things, to remember how you used to be before all this madness, drama, doubts, and insecurities. 

To remember how to love each other. To not just say the words without meaning, to bring each other the joy that had been lost, the trust, and the respect. And, out here in the bitter cold, with no distractions, was where he had wanted to find it. But, just like the fire that began to dwindle down to embers before you, what little spark there had been was already dying. 

Before you could even think of what to say, Bakugou gave a heavy sigh and stood. He was somehow easily about to get out of what you thought had been a death grip on his clothing, but in reality, your fingers had grown quite numb and you let him slip away. How was this happening? How could you possibly be letting him go so easily? You loved him. He was your everything, and yet, you couldn’t hold onto him. The doubt, in the world and in yourself, and your insecurities were pulling you so far away from him. And he was being pulled the other way, by his stresses, defeat, and internal struggles that you had barely even noticed. 

How selfish of you, to be so swallowed up in yourself that you couldn’t see how much he needed you. No, how much you needed to be there for each other. That silence that had started with a simple ‘I’m okay, everything is fine’ was now a massive wall between you, and no matter how loudly you both tried to scream the truth across it, the other just couldn’t hear. How could you climb it, to reach each other and truly be one again? Was it possible, or would it only grow stronger the more you tried? 

“Wh… Where are you going?” Was all you could say, watching as he pulled his hood back up over his head. With only a single glance back at you, Bakugou began to leave the campground, the snow crunching beneath his boots. 

“It’s getting dark and we didn’t gather firewood for the morning. And I have to take a piss… You should get ready to sleep. If you wait too long to get into the bags, you’ll be too cold.”

After a moment of sitting in silence, you stood, shuffling your way over to the tent. The two of you already had the little heater machine running, as well as battery powered heating pads to warm up your bedding, and yet, sitting alone inside the small tent was lonely and cold. There wasn’t even enough space in there for the two of you to move easily, and you couldn’t help but remember all the goofy moments and accidental rough nudges that led to playful fights and heated sessions. 

Craving more warmth, you changed into your fuzzy and comfortable sleeping clothes, before shuffling down into your shared sleeping bag and blankets. The space behind you was so empty, completely void of the warm body that you had grown used to being pressed against your back. You wanted him there, but not just in that moment. No, you wanted him there, always, for as long as fate would allow you to have him. You couldn’t bear the thought of it all ending like this, over a lost connection that you knew could be found again. 

But now, as you lay there in the hot comfort, your exhausted body began to take hold of your even more lethargic mind. Without any willingness on your part, you were pulled into the realm of the unconscious, with only the burning feeling of tears sliding down the side of your nose keeping you tethered to reality. 

When you woke, you found yourself surrounded by darkness, telling you that it was very late in the night. There wasn’t a single source of light outside of the tent, so there was no equipment, fire, or moonlight to illuminate the camp. Still, there was nothing to be frightened of, as you could hear the deep and heavy breathing behind you, a sound that you were incredibly familiar with. You couldn’t feel him touching you, except for the heel of his foot, which had come to rest in the arch of yours.

Blinking away the tears that had welled up in your eyes, you took a moment to feel around in front of you for your phone, finding it down near your hips inside of the sleeping bag. After checking the time, you found yourself staring longingly at your background picture, which was your favorite out of all the photos and videos you had ever taken with Bakugou. Sleepy and disheveled, he had his lips pressed tenderly against your cheek, holding you close within the cozy plushness of his bed. 

Becoming a bit lost in the thoughts of happy memories, you scrolled through your pictures and videos, smiling in one moment and blushing fiercely in another. While scrolling, your thumb accidentally lingered just a bit too long on a video from last summer, and the sound of roaring waves filled the tint. With quick reflexes, you were able to hit the down button on your volume to mute it, falling completely still as you waited to see if Bakugou had woken up from the sound. But, in typical deep sleeper fashion, the blonde was out like a light, still snoring and breathing heavily. 

At first, you considered backing out of the video, but the warm tropical beach view had you interested. Making sure the volume was down to just barely audible, you pressed play, snuggling into your blankets as you settled down to watch. 

“Katsuki, my love, don’t go too far out! It’s too deep!” 

“It’s not too deep, babe, it’s only to my stomach. Oh fuck, something touched me!” 

The video jerked as you jumped, a small gasp escaping your lips as Bakugou was suddenly smacked with not only a wave, but quite a few decent sized jumping fish. As one hit him square in the face, you could be heard laughing, filming around your hips for a moment to see if there were any fish in the water around you. 

“They aren’t coming up this far. See, you are in too deep!” 

“Ugh, fuck them! Ow! Little bitches are biting my toes. Stop laughing at me, [Name]!”  

As more fish leapt up out of the water around him, Bakugou made the split decision to forgo protecting himself in favor of trying to snatch one out of the air. A bit too overzealous in his attempts, he lost his footing with another large wave, and he was swept underneath with a loud string of curses--

Right at that moment, you had to pause the video, as Bakugou began to move about behind you. You had the video so quiet that you could barely hear it, so you would be very surprised if you woke him. Though, what was more surprising was how you were suddenly in his embrace, his arm around your torso and legs squeezing in to intertwine with yours. With a heavy, tired sigh, he settled with his head resting against yours, his cheek against your ear. Feeling your face flush, you could only stay completely still, unable to tell if he was even still asleep, as he tended to snatch on to you like this while deep in sleep if he hadn’t been already. 

At first, you decided to just soak in his embrace, even if it did make your heart feel unbelievably heavy. The tears that had been resting in your eyes finally escaped, forcing you to sniffle and shift your body back just a bit to press tighter against him. Bakugou only held you tighter, though you nearly jumped out of your skin as he reached up and pressed the play button still showing on your phone screen. 

“K-Katsuki--!” 

“Shh…” Bakugou hushed you softly, tucking his hand back into place against your chest. Trembling now from a mix of shock, embarrassment, and longing, you fell silent as he requested, watching the video as it continued to play. 

After a moment of being gone, Bakugou suddenly popped up out of the water beside you, making you jump and squeal in shock. “Katsuki, don’t scare me! You know the ocean makes me nervous!” 

Pushing his wet hair out of his face, Bakugou scoffed, taking a second to adjust his shorts around his hips that had fallen a bit loose during his scuffle with nature. “There isn’t anything out here that’s gonna get you, babe. Except me, maybe.” Snatching onto you, Bakugou pulled you in close, so you held the phone out away from you to catch the two of you sharing a sweet kiss. Bakugou shot a quick glance up at it just before the kiss ended, as if he were making sure that you were both in the shot, which was much more malicious than it seemed at the moment. 

As you pulled away, you smiled up at him, completely distracted by managing the phone and his affection. “That’s not true. There’s obviously evil fish.” 

“Hm, true.” The sly smirk that crept across his lips was paired with an unseen movement of his arm as he pulled something from his swim shorts pocket, the item hidden under the water and out of your view. “Those fish are little bastards. But one is about to be pretty lucky.” 

“Huh?” 

What happened next was so quick that it almost made you dizzy, as Bakugou reached behind you, fish in hand. In seconds, the wiggling thing was dropped into the back side of your bikini bottoms, forcing an ungodly scream from your lips--

As the two of you watched the video flip about, Bakugou’s laughter and your squealing filling the tent, you felt the deep rumble of a chuckle against your back. You could feel his lips smirk against your cheek as well, and against your volition, you couldn’t stop your own smile and soft airy giggle. 

“That was gold.” Bakugou spoke quietly, his hand moving around to rest against your stomach. 

“It was mean. But funny, anyway.” 

“I had to get you out of that bikini somehow.” 

In the video, you had thrown the phone to land, where it stuck in the sand just perfectly so you could still see the scene without much obstruction. Sure enough, you ripped your bikini bottoms from your body as quick as lightning, struggling to wipe the gross, slimy feeling of fish off your skin. 

“Yuck, Katsuki!! Oww, I think its fins scratched me! Gross!” 

“Oh, did it? Guess I’ll have to inspect.” 

Another squeal left your lips as Bakugou scooped you up, carrying you bridal style back towards land. “You’re not ‘inspecting’ anything after that! You’re lucky we’re on a private beach, I’ve lost my bottoms!” 

“You won’t need them.” 

“There are better ways to get some booty, Katsuki.” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leaned up and kissed his cheek roughly, not paying any attention to the phone as you both walked on past it. 

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, it made you smile, and that’s what we came out here for.” 

Knowing the rest of the video was nothing but playful banter and about ten, or more, minutes of moaning, you tapped the screen to pause it. The longing for those fun, playful, and comfortable times was incredibly heavy, settling in your chest like your heart had turned to stone. You wanted to be like that again so badly, back to when there wasn’t a single thing between you. At a loss, there was only one thing that you could think of to say, and it slipped from your lips in a trembling quiver. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Hearing the exact same words come from him in that moment made you turn your head in shock, looking up at him in confusion. Propping himself up on his elbow, Bakugou caressed your cheek softly, stroking your skin with his thumb. “[Name]... I’m sorry.” Even in the nearly nonexistent light, you could see the sincerity in his expression. “I’m sorry that we got to this point… I never wanted us to lose what we had.” 

“N-no, Katsuki.” You placed your hand over his, struggling against the burning in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I… I kept trying to ignore it all… All the bad things and feelings, just hoping that it would go away. And because of that, I ended up not seeing how much you were hurting, too… I’m so selfish--” You immediately lost your composure, hiccupping as you struggled to speak. “I-I should have been there more for you… Not doubting you… or myself. Now, I… I feel like at any moment, you’ll slip through my fingers. I don’t want to lose you...!” 

Hushing you softly, Bakugou rested his forehead against yours, still stroking your cheek even as it grew wet with tears. “It’s okay… I’m not going anywhere…” 

“Y-You mean it?” 

“I did a lot of thinking while you were asleep and… just watching you, I came to realize that letting what we have go would be the stupidest fucking thing I would ever do. There is no way in hell that I’m going to let that dumb bitch ruin one of the best things in my life. I love you too fucking much to let that happen.” As he leaned in and caught your lips with his in a soft yet passionate kiss, there was an intense and hot tingling that spread across your skin and all the way down to your toes. Immediately, you found yourself pressing back against him, your free hand coming up to tangle your fingers into his hair. That spark that had been missing, that fire that was so warm with forgiveness and acceptance, was burning beneath your skin and screaming with an absolute need for him. 

To kiss you, to hold you, to touch you, and love you as fiercely as he always had before. The heat was already pooling and pulsing between your legs, and before you knew it, the passion had exploded into something unrestrainable. It had been so long since you had this deep and passionate connection with him that you just couldn’t resist, and so you opened yourself to him completely. Your mouth, your body, your soul. Anything that he wanted to touch, you would give it all to him. 

Although there were many layers of warm clothing separating your skin, the feeling of his fingers trailing down your neck and across the curve of your chest was already enough to make you shiver. All these layers couldn’t hide the feeling of his cock pressing against your ass, so hard and eager. You were so distracted by the feeling that you barely noticed his hand slip under the hem of your bottom layers, reaching beneath the sweatpants, leggings, and underwear until he was between your legs. 

Even against the chill of the tent outside of your sleeping bag, Bakugou’s touch was like fire, the warmth of his touch spreading across your skin with the pleasure of him stroking your clit. His movements were slow and deliberate, rolling and stroking the fleshy button against the rough texture of his fingertips. His hands, so large and rugged, could immediately make you melt, no matter where he decided to touch you, and you couldn’t resist moaning and sighing against the kiss. 

“Look at you,” He growled against your lips, that familiar lustful fire burning in his glare. “So wet for me already.” 

“You should have expected that, Katsuki-” Your voice hitched as his touch became rougher. “I want you so badly…! Even though we’ve spent every night together… I just miss you so much- ah!” Moaning softly at the feeling of his fingers entering your sex, you placed your hand over his outside of your clothing, pressing with a gentle yet firm touch in a silent plea for more. 

Pressing his lips against your cheek, you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed as he watched your expression, working his fingers within you even deeper. “I’ve missed you…” He smirked against your skin, his low voice sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve missed your expressions… That sexy voice and the way you clench around my fingers and my cock. You’re so fucking perfect.” With a slight change in technique, the palm of his hand began to stroke across your clit with each movement of his fingers within you, and the sudden increase in pleasure made your hips begin to move with him. “That’s it… You want to cum on my fingers, baby?” 

“I-I want to cum on your dick,” Although you did in fact want to cum already, you wanted to feel him, to be connected to him in a way that no one else could feel. “I want you inside of me, Katsuki! Please fill me up!” 

“Is that so?” He nibbled and bit playfully at your neck, the slight sparks of pain only increasing the pleasure, along with his ever-increasing roughness of his fingers inside you. “Beg a little harder.” 

Now trying to hold your body back so you wouldn’t cum, you moved your hand to instead clutch onto his arm, breathing and panting heavily. “P-please! I want your dick inside me! Please give it to me, Katsuki! Please give me what I’ve been missing!” 

“What have you been missing?” 

“You-! Everything about you! I-I, I can’t- oh fuck!” Your voice squeaked with a moan as his fingers reached even deeper within you. “I can’t hold it, Katsuki-- please!” 

Right before you lost control, Bakugou removed his fingers from you, leaving your body aching and trembling. “Fine,” He growled into your ear, pushing your bottoms down with little help from your numb fingers. “Just don’t moan too loudly. You’ll cause an avalanche.” After you pulled one leg completely free from your clothing, you allowed him to hold it up and out of the way. His cock having already been set free, you could feel it pressing against your sex, hot and pulsing with anticipation. 

You knew that he had been missing you just as much, that the meaningless little quickies here and there meant as little to him as they did to you. No, this was different, a raging need to be one, to pleasure each other and bring that lost connection. How good it felt as he entered you was something you didn’t expect, however, and the instant he was buried as deep as he could within you, you came. 

Twitching and constricting against him, Bakugou gave a pleasured groan into your shoulder, lightly bucking his hips to stir your walls and only prolong the pleasure for you. “Ah fucking damn it! You’re so fucking horny, cumming on my dick already. I should punish you for cumming so quickly.” 

“Punish me, Katsuki,” Rolling your hips back against him, Bakugou couldn’t resist another hiss into your shoulder, gripping onto your hip tightly. “Fuck me until I can’t stop cumming.” You could already feel the pleasure starting to grow just from your own movements, arching your back to allow him in even deeper. “I’m yours! Please do whatever you want with me!” 

“That’s right, [Name],” Bakugou began to rock his hips, thrusting in and out of you at a quick, rough pace. “You’re mine.” As he set his pace, you turned your head more into your pillow, gasping and moaning uncontrollably into the fabric. His cock was heaven as it slid in and out of you, reaching into your depths and not leaving a single inch of you untouched. Over the years, he had learned exactly what you liked to make sure you always had the best experience, cumming over and over again without control. 

That’s exactly what he did to you now, melting you into a putty of moaning flesh in his hands. He caressed and squeezed every inch of your skin that he could reach, from your thighs to your hips, your stomach and your breasts, exploring your body and your skin like he had never experienced it before. His grunts and moans into your ear only made it more irresistible, loving the thought that he was so turned on by you that he couldn’t help himself. 

By the time his hand came up to wrap around your throat, you were both nearly dripping with sweat, having completely shed all clothing and bedding before switching positions. Now on your back, the slight constricting against your throat made you feel breathless, the pleasure spiking as he only fucked you harder. You knew your eyes were rolled back and the pleasured smile on your face would probably have any bystander think you’re insane, but you didn’t care. It felt so good to be ravaged by him, his strong and muscular frame enough to drive you mad just looking at him. But to be able to touch him, to hold him and have him as yours was a complete and absolute dream, and as you came again, you felt suddenly overwhelmed with all the regret and struggles you had gone through. 

Not quite noticing the change in emotion, Bakugou released your neck to rest more against you, digging his fingers into your hair as he kissed you fiercely. It was difficult to restrain the urge to moan against the kiss, but his tongue invading your open mouth was enough to keep you distracted. Wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, you dug your nails into his skin, gifting him with red marks that matched the rest. The feeling made him growl against your lips, only fucking you harder. “Damn it, you drive me fucking crazy--” 

The hitching of his voice told you that he was getting close, and although you had been completely drowned in pleasure at this point, there was still another ball growing tighter in your core. As it grew, so did the emotion, and the tears welling up in your eyes were immediately noticed by the passionate man holding you. Before you could say anything, Bakugou kissed you again, though it was different. It wasn’t filled with a lustful craze like a moment ago. Instead, it was passionate, a soft and loving brushing of lips. The emotion, passion, and love that filled you was too much to bear, and just as your orgasm hit you hard, the tears spilled down along your burning cheeks. Your constricting walls instantly put Bakugou over the edge, his last few thrusts erratic as he filled you to the brim with his cum. It was so incredibly hot against the forgotten chill of the air around you that you couldn’t stop from shivering, holding onto him tighter to try and retain the heat as much as you could. 

Even as you both panted, the kiss refused to end, not parting until the need to breathe was impossible to ignore. “Katsuki,” You sighed against his lips, looking up into that fierce crimson gaze that you adored. “I love you. I love you so damn much, I don’t even know how to say it.” 

Wiping your tears away gently with his thumbs, Bakugou kissed your sore lips softly. “I don’t know how to say it, either. But I fucking love you, too, you beautiful damn brat. My dumbass,” another soft kiss. “My idiot,” and another. “My baby,” and once more. “My perfect woman.” 

Your cheeks somehow grew hotter with each gentle kiss, unable to resist a smile after he finished showering you with affection. “You’re so sweet. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” 

“Nah. I think I’m the luckiest guy. And don’t argue with me about that! It's a fact!” He interrupted you with a rough kiss to your cheek before you could even say anything, making you burst out into giggles and hug him tightly. 

“Okay, okay! Don’t attack me.” 

“I’ll attack you all I want to. You’re so fucking cute all sweaty and messy, makes me want to just mess you up more.” 

“You can mess me up plenty in a little bit. But uhm… I really need to pee.” 

“Me too. I bet you can’t even make it to the trees before you run back in here.” 

“I’ll do you one better. If I don’t make it, I’ll give you a massage. But if I do, then you have to rub me down. I’m sore!” 

“We have to go out naked.” 

“Butt ass naked.” 

“You’re on, baby. I look forward to that massage.” 

[hatsukeii]

 Yikes I thought of something BUT

Here’s a big trigger warning. This post will contain mentions of the blue whale game, forced self harm, forced suicide, etc. Please proceed with caution.

Anyways since the blue whale game is being talked about again (Although it started in 2013 and I learned about it when I was like what 11) I thought of something to sort of raise the awareness (??) all while sticking w the whole writing blog theme.

So,

Here’s something for ya.

*gif is not mine:)

The Blue Whale // Akutagawa Ryunosuke x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k+

Trigger warnings: cursing, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, forced self harm, the blue whale game, blood

Summary: No one should have blood in their room, but Akutagawa woke up to smell it all over you.

Tears flowed freely from your eyes as you frantically tried to scrub off the sticky, crimson liquid that stained Akutagawa’s desk. Next to the pool of blood, lay a pocket knife, the blade tainted red. The wet kitchen towels in your hand soaked up the blood, leaving the table squeaky clean. Discarding the mountain of kitchen towels, you scrambled for your phone, snapping a photo of your arm, before sending it to your curator.

Are you happy now? Is this enough for you?

Trying your best not to wake your partner up, you tiptoed to the bathroom, grabbing a roll of bandages from the cupboard. You bit your lip as you ran your cut arm under the ice cold tap water, suppressing a few pained groans. Pulling the bandages out, you began to wrap your arm up, the blood staining the white fabric as you winced in pain. The metallic stench of blood was enough to make you puke as you made your way back to the bed. From next to you, you could feel Akutagawa stir in his sleep, before he groggily forced his eyes open.

“Why the fuck are you awake again?”

“Sorry, nightmare.”

Seeing Akutagawa’s figure relaxing, you heaved a sigh, slipping in bed with him. Accidentally putting pressure on your arm, you winced, hissing silently as you flinched. He responded with a light snore, signalling that he was fast asleep. You inched closer to his body, burying your head into the crook of his neck, hoping that subtle action could give you even the tiniest sense of security in this situation.

It didn’t. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to forget about the game for even a second, but the gruesome images of the horror movies you’ve had to watch, the mutilated images you were sent, the blue whale carved deep into your arm, all those horrifying things came rushing back to your mind like a flood. You couldn’t forget them. Even as you nuzzled yourself closer to Akutagawa, a shiver made its way down your spine, despite the warmth his body gave off. It was the sense of uneasiness that really did the job. Who was this “whale?” What did they want with you? How did they find Akutagawa’s address? What would they do if you refused to complete your daily mission? You were on day thirty five with no way out. They have already forced you to make a choice of where and how you were going to kill yourself. No one knew of the dangerous situation you were put in, you were all alone. Eventually, you dozed off out of exhaustion, gripping tightly onto Akutagawa’s sweater.

You stood in the middle of your shared bedroom, too petrified to even move. it felt like you were drowning. Just drowning in a deep void of water, with nothing to grip at. Blood was smeared everywhere, not an inch of space left empty. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, the bed, everything was stained and tattered. To your absolute horror, from the curtain pole, hung Akutagawa, his eyes lifeless and dead. You tried to scream, but it was as if your lungs gave out. You were suffocating. This was too much to handle. Forcing your eyes shut, you take a few deep breaths, before making the terrible decision of opening them again. All over your room, eerily detailed drawings were stuck everywhere. Whether it be a knife, a wound, or even a noose. Bringing your hand up to cover your mouth, you stagger out of the room, horrified to see the rest of the apartment. Nothing struck you as abnormal, except for the final painting you found.

It was a painting of a blue whale, stabbed into your front door.

You let out an inhumane scream, tears staining your face as Akutagawa woke up from his slumber. Your knuckles were white from gripping his sweater so hard, the fabric now crinkled. Seeing your visible distress, the black haired man didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you, drawing small circles into your back as you grabbed your chest, heaving uncontrollably. Akutagawa scrunched his nose, sniffing the air. 

“Blood?”

Hearing the click of a lamp switch, along with the light that turned on after that, you grabbed onto the sleeve of his sweater, trying to pull him back to bed.

“It’s fine! Really, just deal with it later in the day, it’s like three in the morning right now.”

His expression was full of worry as he softly pulled your hand away from the fabric.

“You woke up screaming at three in the morning and I smell blood in this room, I’m gonna check it out and be right back.”

Refusing to let go, your heart raced as you tugged harder, making him fall back, the mattress dipping as he fell onto your wounded arm. A loud hiss sounded from your mouth as you groaned in pain, cradling your arm as you heaved heavily. Akutagawa’s eyes widened in concern. Turning around to face you, he gently took your arm in his hand, poking on it. You flinched at the sensation, feeling every nerve in your arm tingle with pain.

“(Y/n), lift up your sleeve.”

“No, it’s really fine-”

Without listening to you, Akutagawa pulled your sleeve up to reveal the bandages wrapped around your arm, now stained a reddish brown from the dried up blood. You felt your throat close up as you started to wheeze and choke, panic overtaking your senses. Sweat gathered around your forehead, tears threatening to spill from your heavy eyelids as you fought the urge to pass out. From the corner of your eyes, you could barely make out the image of Akutagawa with the tears blurring your sight and the blinding light that was the lamp. Your mind raced, only just realising the worst case scenario had come true. He was at risk now. You should’ve just held the screams back and shut the fuck up but instead you put him in a dire situation along with yourself. What if he got hurt because of you? What if the whale found him and made your nightmare a reality? You would never be able to live it down knowing you were the cause of pain or suffering for your loved one. He cared for you so, so much, and what did he get in return from you? Danger. You were guilty. Terribly guilty. Akutagawa has been through enough already, he shouldn’t have to put up with your shit as well. You stayed silent about the game, hoping to just get it over with and figure everything out yourself so you wouldn’t be a burden to anyone, but of course that didn’t work out and here you were.

Akutagawa’s eyes softened as he let out a tiny exhale.

“Oh no, what the fuck happened love?”

You bit your lip, tears now sliding down your hot cheek as you squeezed your eyes shut. Love? You didn’t deserve to be called that, especially when you’ve just put your partner’s life in danger.

“I told you... it’s okay, don’t worry about me.”

Hearing your voice crack, Akutagawa felt his heart ache as he reached out, pulling you into his chest. Don’t worry? How was he supposed to not worry? It would be plain wrong for him to not give a fuck about your struggles and go on with his life. When he fell in love with you he swore to himself that he would protect you with every ounce of his life, even if it meant putting himself in danger. Seeing you so vulnerable and hurt, it made him want to cry. It made him want to beat himself up for not noticing it earlier. For not noticing anything wrong with the way you woke up at ungodly hours, searching for your phone. For not even suspecting the way you jumped at the tiniest noises at night. He had to hold his tears back. He was going to stay strong for your sake. Planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, he rested his head on top of yours, not even thinking of letting you go. He was going to keep you in his embrace for as long as it took to make you finally feel safe and at ease again.

“Please, just let me change out the bandages for you, okay?”

Feeling you nod under his chin, Akutagawa gently released you from his hug, before slowly grabbing your arm. Eyeing the bandages, he winced, imagining the pain you must be in. Carefully, he peeled the stained fabric off your arm, trying not to inflict any pain on you. His breath was caught in his throat when he saw what was carved onto your arm. As if it was on instinct, you shoved your head back into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

“(Y/n), don’t tell me...”

His sentence may have stayed unfinished, but he knew exactly what was going on in his head. Your tears stained his sweater as you continued to cry, but not out of sadness. He knew the feeling all too well. You were scared. Terrified. But could he blame you? The game had two mafia members murdered in the past week, any normal human being would be petrified.

“The blue whale game?”

You gripped his sweater even tighter, your fingers hurting as you nodded into the fabric.

“How long has it been?”

“Thirty five days.”

Before you could comprehend the situation, Akutagawa was carrying you to the bathroom, his arms hooked underneath your legs and back, dirtied bandages in one hand. Setting you down on his lap, he threw out the stained fabric, grabbing the roll of bandages. Gently, he wrapped them around your arm, making sure not to put too much pressure on the wound. He didn’t want to see you in pain again. Not tonight. Not ever.

“I’m sorry.”

His hands froze at your words.

“For what?”

Your eyes were empty, holding close to no emotion. They were dead, as if you were nothing but a talking corpse. 

“You should stay away from me. It’s too dangerous for me to stay now.”

“If I stay away, then who’s going to keep you safe, idiot?”

His words may have been harsh, but it was clear as day the concern that was laced in his voice. The air was thick, the two of you silent as he continued to bandage your arm up. Securing the fabric, he gave your arm a tiny squeeze, his hands warm even through the bandages. Carrying you back to the bedroom, he gently laid you down, before getting in bed himself, draping the blanket over the two of you. He then proceeded to pull you into his arms, his hair tickling your forehead as he stroked yours in return. Your arms shakily wrapped around his torso, taking in his scent. It was comforting to a certain degree, but you shook at the thought of the nightmare. Feeling you shake, Akutagawa started to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, hoping that would comfort you.

“Shh, I’m right here, don’t worry. You’re safe, come closer. You can squeeze me as tight as you want, don’t worry. We can sort all this out tomorrow. For now, just get some rest. Careful about your arm too.”

Hearing that, you tightened your grip on him, pulling yourself into his chest as he wheezed slightly.

“Well that’s quite tight.”

Continuing his calming strokes on your hair, Akutagawa littered your head with soft kisses, each and every single one of them filled with emotion as he held onto you. You were so fragile in his arms, seconds away from breaking completely. Hearing your soft snores, he smiled to himself, starting to drift to sleep himself.

“Never, ever, be sorry for something like this. I’m willing to put my life on the line if it means you’re protected.”

Yikers this seems underwhelming now that I’m done w it-

But still hope you enjoy it!!

First bsd fic DONE LMAOO

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots​ @just-another-bored-writer​ @bokutokoutarou​ @inlwlevi​ @iwaigroomi​ @sneezefiction​ @tiger1719​ @tiredgr3mlin​ @swingflamingoat​ @random-fandomlover​ @kaylacinderella​ @skyeackermans​ @burnt-tomato​ @izzyphantomgamer​ @poppirocks​ @agentvicinity​ @sakusasgarbage​ @emsvegetables​ @ewfilthymundane​ @kuroo-thought-of-a-better-un​ @talks-a-lot-of-stuff​ @macaronnv​ @trashcanweeb​ @xonfusedsoul​ @eleiaisagoodgirliswear​ @justachillgirl​ @artsamber​ @itmekisuu​ @shoutsukii​ @mariechan123​

Feel free to comment or pm to be added to the taglist:))

[sweetboybucky]

In October

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1300

Warnings: Total pointless sap, because literally nothing has changed. Brought to you by Rae, that one girl who can’t stop giving a 100 year old former assassin fluffy animals to mother to death. 

Summary: This is what Bucky dreamed of, in those years of ice, and even before. 

A/N:  This is my piece for my beautiful love @barnesrogersvstheworld​‘s Are You Afraid of the Dark Halloween Challenge, and my prompt was black cat. Attie - I adore you. I know this challenge was meant for scary stuff, but I hope you like this one anyway.  

I’ve missed you, my loves. Thank you for your kindness this year. I have appreciated it more than you could ever know. Some more notes at the end, to keep this author’s note from getting offensively long. I’m pretty rusty with this writing thing, but I hope you guys enjoy this one. 

*** October settles softly in Brooklyn, with leaves of crimson and ochre and wind whistling through the trees. The smell of maple syrup lingering in the kitchen. Morning sunlight filtering through sheer curtains. 

Eyes of winter gray hide themselves from the sun. Body curled tightly under the blanket he knitted for himself, fingers closing around the soft fabric, drawing it up higher to cover the little smile on his lips as he listens to you - humming something under your breath, making Bucky’s apartment feel like home. 

A sigh slips into the air, and you chuckle a little on the exhale. Bucky’s grin grows wider. 

There is quiet, measured amusement in your voice when you ask, “You going to help me with this, honey?” 

He groans. “Too early.” 

“Not that early, Buck.”

“Still too early.” 

“You said you would help me decorate.” 

He lets his eyes open when the couch shifts with your weight, when he feels you press into his side, warm and solid and real. Looks up at you through a bleary gaze, your beautiful face, your kind eyes. Hums when you stroke your fingers through his hair, lips pressing to his temple. 

“How did I ever manage to wind up with such a lump?” you tease. “Don’t you want to decorate for Halloween?”

“Too tired,” he argues. Startles when a slight weight lands on his legs, little paws digging into his thighs, moving up to his belly. An all too familiar chirp sounds through the air. 

“Look who’s awake,” you say, and Bucky turns his face down, finds those gorgeous green eyes, that expanse of shiny, smooth black fur. 

“Good morning, Princess Cricket,” Flesh fingers stroke behind her ears, down her back.  Affection bubbles in him when she goes pliant, flopping down to lay on top of him on her side, chirping and extending her face up for more attention. 

You echo him, smiling as you pet at Cricket’s side. “Good morning, Cricket,” turning to him, you add, “Wait here a second,” then you stand, taking your heat with you. Bucky misses it in an instant.

He whines, reaches a hand out to you as you walk over to the bin of decorations you abandoned on the floor, digging through it, “What are you doing? Come back.” 

“I bought a present for the baby, I’ll be back in a second.”

Bucky grins, mock innocence in his voice as he calls back, “Am I the baby getting the present?” 

“Well,” you say, turning back once you’ve found whatever it is you were looking for, a small object hidden between your hands, “you’re certainly a baby.” He tickles your side when you take your seat next to him again, tender warmth curling in his heart as you laugh and swat at his hand. “But this present isn’t for you.” 

A frown pulls at his lips, but it’s teasing. “No fair.” 

“Because Halloween is practically your holiday, Miss Cricket,” ignoring his words, tapping Cricket’s nose with your finger, “I got something to help you look the part. 

Winter eyes track your hands as the move, settling the gift on Cricket’s head, pulling back once it’s in place, pressing sweet into his side. 

And he can see Cricket now, as she stares up at him with a tiny, jet black witch’s hat on her head. 

Laughter comes deep from his chest, rumbling through the room. He tweaks the point of the hat with one hand, goes back to stroking Cricket’s face as he wraps his metal arm around you. Drawing you closer, feeling something too soft for him to name beneath his skin as he looks from you to the cat. 

“Do you like it?” 

“I love it,” he tells you, moving his fingers to take yours in his grip. Kissing your knuckles once, twice before continuing, “I think Cricket does, too.” She chirps at him, holding very still. “You’re so scary, sweetpea, my little demon witch.” 

“She’s cute, not scary.” 

“You do know that she’s a demon in a million trashy horror movies, right?” He taps the hat again, looks at Cricket as he continues, “She was a total demon when she was a kitten.” 

“Cricket is too cute to be a demon.” 

“You didn’t find her eating a brand new loaf of bread after she tore through the plastic with her tiny daggers for teeth.” 

“Guess I didn’t.” You scratch at Cricket’s belly, just to get her to stretch out across Bucky’s chest. “But I bet she had you whipped, anyway.” 

And he remembers, with a surge of something fierce and overwhelming, when he had first brought her home, between after everything and before you, when she was tiny and warm and so curious. How he had worried over her, but how grateful he was to have her. 

“She did,” he concedes. But he lets his smile turn teasing again. “Doesn’t mean she wasn’t a demon.” 

“Does this,” you gesture to the cat, nuzzling her face into Bucky’s belly and purring, “look like a demon to you?” 

“Yes,” he answers. “Look at her. I can’t believe I’m still alive. She’s drawing it out, the anticipation is killing me.” He curls his flesh arm around her little body, hauling her up so she can nestle her wet nose against the skin of his neck, grinning up at you, “Put me out of my misery already, Demon Cricket.” 

“She’s about as scary as you, Buck.” 

Breath hitches in his throat. He looks up at you, watching your face and that careful measure of fondness in your expression for a long moment, turning those words over in his head. Admiring the way the sun makes your skin glow gold. Slowly lifting fingers of cool metal, tracing the line of your cheek, staring as you grip them in your own, press a few lingering kisses to the knuckles, the palm of his hand. 

“I love you.” 

It is a quiet, tentative and breathless statement. A feeling that has been stirring in his mind since he first met you, since your warmth first touched his heart. A fierce kind of emotion he has felt for you for so long without naming, without breathing it into the air. 

Your eyes are wide, and there’s something he can’t name in your expression now. But it gives way to a smile too tender for words. A small, private thing meant for the two of you alone. 

“I love you, too, Buck.” 

And this is what he dreamed of - what he longed for in the years of cold, and even before then. 

His next exhale is shaky, but a grin comes with it anyway. Because he loves you, more than those words alone could ever explain, can feel it in his bones, and you love him, too. 

Shifting on the couch, he keeps a hand on Cricket to keep her in place, hearing her chirp as he makes room for you. Tugs on your hand, pulls you down next to him. 

“I guess decorating can wait for a little while,” you murmur, indulgent and so sweet as you curl into his side. Hook your arm over his belly, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. 

Eyes trace over your face for long, peaceful minutes, his lips making a path from your hairline to your cheek to your nose to your mouth, kissing you slowly, sighing into your mouth when your hands thread through his hair. Keeping him close, drawing him in. 

He pulls away to tuck you against his side, one last lingering press of his mouth to your hair before resting his nose in the strands. Breathing against you, letting every loose part of him settle. 

Cricket’s fur is soft beneath his fingers, and you are so warm against his side, and there’s so much sunshine spilling into the room. Such an easy, mundane morning, made beautiful by the simplest of things. 

“Baby?” 

“Yeah, Buck?”

“Can we get hats to match with Cricket for Halloween?” 

You chuckle into his neck, pull back to look at him. “Sure, honey.” Fingers trace the line of his jaw, and your lips follow soon after, affectionate kisses pressed into his skin, filling him with light and love. 

Notes: 

Title and inspiration for this one from girl in red’s gorgeous song, “we fell in love in october” because it made my gay little heart feel something. 

A special thanks to @panicfob for posting about the handwriting method and how helpful it is during a writing slump, it was how I got the first draft of this one done. You’re lovely, darling, and thank you for sharing your tips with us. 

Cricket the Demon Cat is mildly based on my own cat, Maddie, because she is very chirpy, lovey and cuddly, and she also once tore through the plastic on a brand new loaf of bread and ate half of it when she was a kitten. I love her. 

More love to all of you, and my amazing friends, for all the support. This year has been hard. Just trying to hope for better in these last few months, and the upcoming decade. I hope your days are filled with so much light, darlings. 

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[maxe-mini]

Pretty Blue Eyes

A/N- Hey there! So this is my first ever full written fanfic, atleast one I’m going to post on tumblr. I had a lot of fun writing this, in fact, I finished it in a d a y sjgjsdb so yeah. This is gonna be an OC x Bakugou oneshot(?) Im not sure if its a oneshot bc I might make a follow up in thhe future, it depends. Anywayyyy, yeah! If you want details on who my OC is, her name is Kano Amaya(Last name, first name). I’ve posted plenty of art I’ve made of her on this blog, which can be found on my pinned post, which also happens to have the link to her wiki on Amino. Give it a read if you’d like! Now onto the fanfic! :DD 

Taglist: @deephasoceanmagic​ @kuroshin15​

Warning: Lots of cursing(I mean it has Bakugou in it), small mentions of blood and nosebleeds, overworking, passing out 

A/N- dw this is actually just soft and ‘angry pomeranian is angry bc he has feelings lmaoooo’

This wasn’t the first time it’s happened, but that didn’t mean it pissed him off any less. For the sixth time these past few days, his eyes had managed to wander right back to her. Dark blue hair tied into two low pig tails that seemed to always flow through the air just the right way as she moved. Cold yet mystical blue eyes that he could constantly feel himself drowning in. Fair skin dusted with soft freckles that he craved to touch. F u c k. He was absolutely smitten by this girl and he did not like it one bit. Those goddamn pretty blue pupils suddenly met his, and he stared back-even that was a competition to him now-forcing a scowl on his face. The girl merely raised an eyebrow before returning back to quietly eating her food, the chatter around her seeming to be uninteresting.

Bakugou scoffed, finally returning his own crimson eyes to his curry, practically stabbing a piece of meat with his fork as if it had personally wronged him, earning a few concerned glances from his- he did NOT want to call them friends- classmates. Only the sound of utensils clattering with plates could be heard around their table, which surprisingly only served to piss off the ash-blonde haired boy even more. “What?” He spat out, looking up to see Kirishima, Sero, and Kaminari staring at him, their eyes practically answering his question.

“You doing alright man? You seem… more angry than usual.” Kirishima was the first one to speak up, his small eyebrows furrowing up in worry. “Did Kano do something?” Sero followed. Turns out that was a big mistake. Just hearing her name sent a jolt of electricity through his spine, and for a second he thought Kaminari had a death wish.

Bakugou growled. “That’s none of your fucking business.” He didn’t shout, he didn’t scream, he didn’t even let a single small explosion go off on his palm like he usually did as a threat. The ash-blonde boy only returned to his food, and it seemed his words were enough to stop any more questions from his peers. Good. Atleast they knew what was good for them.

 It hadn’t always been like this.

Bakugou stared at the ground, the angriest, most frustrated frown anyone had ever seen on his face. His classmates stared at him in concern, knowing exactly why he was so full of rage, yet none of them knew how to help. He’s always been difficult to deal with. None of them wanted to risk trying to comfort him, knowing that would possibly make him even more upset.

He was silent, his hands shoved into his pockets and his posture slouched. He had failed the Provisional Licensing Exams, and he was feeling no less than pissed about it. He knew it was because of his ‘harsh language’  towards the victims- if you could even call them that, they were all actors after all. Just thinking about it made him grit his teeth in frustration.

Before he could mope around even more, a delicate, dainty hand suddenly wrapped around his arm and forced him away from his thoughts as they pulled him to the back of the bus. People were apparently still collecting their things and everyone had time to chat with each other before having to eventually get back to school- not that he himself was interested in doing that. His frown faded away to surprise before he noticed who it was. Kano. 

The scowl edged itself back onto Bakugou’s face as he stared at her, yet for some reason, he didn’t move. He let her bring himself here, and for some god forsaken reason, he wanted to hear what she had to say. 

Those blue eyes pierced through his soul, as if analyzing every bit and piece of who he was. It took a fair amount of his will power not to back away, only staring back, hoping his gaze was as intense as hers. 

“Bakugou.” Her voice was firm. It always was, whenever she talked, which was a rare occasion. The boy in question didn’t answer, only raising his eyebrow in response. 

“I know you’re upset about the Licensing Exam.” She continued, her expression unchanging, staring at him in stoic honesty, and he could not-for the life of him- pinpoint what she was feeling at the moment. 

“No shit. I don’t want your pity.” Bakugou spat back, his words laced with venom. If anything made him angry, it was pity from other people. He didn’t need anyone’s fucking help. He wasn’t weak. 

“I don’t pity you. In fact, I look up to you, and I whole heartedly believe that you will receive your Hero License after the training course with ease.” Kano wasn’t startled at all by his profanity. She only stared at him through those unreadable eyes which he always managed to get lost in. 

Bakugou’s own crimson eyes widened slightly in surprise. That wasn’t what he expected. He didn’t answer. He didn’t know HOW to answer. This was not something he expected from someone like her, especially when he considered her competition, along with Half and Half and Ponytail. 

“So stop moping around. You know you’re strong. You know you’ll be fine, so go kick some ass at that training course.” For the first time since he’d seen her in the entrance exam, she sweared. Not only that, the corners of her lips curled up into a soft, confident smile, her faintly freckled cheeks glowing an equally soft pink along with it. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her with any other expression except for the one she always wore, unchanging and unreadable. She had her hands to her hips and looked so uncharacteristically bold. 

Bakugou could only stare. He’s been doing that way too much now, but he had nothing to say. He didn’t expect ANY of this from Kano. The ash-blonde haired boy was thoroughly taken by surprise. 

'That smile looks nice on her.' 

The thought made him blink rapidly, startled by his own mind. What the fuck? What the fuck was he thinking about? 

After a few seconds of silence, possibly as Kano patiently waited for his response, he formulated a reply. 

“You’re goddamn right I will.” He grinned. The same confident grin that brought terror onto those who were up against him. 

Seeing him back to his normal state seemed to have made Kano much more glad, as her smile only widened. F u c k. That smile could kill people. Bakugou barely managed to hold back incoming heat that was threatening to expose itself on his face, and he hoped to god that the girl in question couldn’t hear his rapid heartbeat. 

Before any of the two could say something, a voice pulled both of them right out of their thoughts. “Hey, where’s Kano and Bakugou?” It was Shitty Hair. Of course it would be Shitty Hair. 

The ash-blonde haired boy walked away, not waiting for whatever Kano was going to say next, assuming she had any. The glimmer of wild confidence had intensified in his eyes, and he was feeling pumped up. He would never admit it, but what she said helped. 

The ride back home was a blur after that. Thoughts of the upcoming training course flashed through his mind, interrupted by a few images of Kano’s smile. It irritated him to the core.

Bakugou grimaced at the memory, knowing that that was the start of when he started thinking of Kano as more than just a rival, and let himself scream a battle cry as he released a massive explosion onto an equally massive boulder, resulting in it having a big gaping hole in the middle, the little bits and pieces of rubble all but strewn about behind it. 

The ash-blonde haired boy huffed. Class 1-A had been given time to train in Gym Gamma, and he’d been releasing all his frustrations on these rocks. It was working atleast, but now he was tired and his wrists has a dull ache in them. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been destroying these stones, but he assumed it must’ve been a little over an hour. A few of his classmates had already gone back to the dorms, presumably to rest. He scoffed at the thought. 

One of the students who hadn’t gone back though, was one of the sources of his frustrations. Kano was currently heaving up an ungodly amount of water, her expression visibly strained, yet it was still stoic. It reminded him of Half-and-Half in a way, but he shook away the thought before he angered himself even more.

He jumped off the concrete platforms to get himself a bottle of water, panting as he noticed he was a little out of breathe. His crimson eyes followed her dark blue figure as her wrists flicked the other way and the liquid which she was floating in the air instantly formed into large icicles. Bakugou’s vision narrowed. 'She’s gotten faster at doing that.' 

A part of him was threatened and annoyed at her rapid improvement, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride for his classmate. He shoved the thought away, continuing to watch her movements closely. Her back was to him, so he didn’t notice the blood that was flowing down her nose. 

Kano threw her torso forward, following her arms, causing the large icicles to pierce through the boulder infront of her, the force of her control and the amount of ice she had enough to absolutely decimate the huge rock. As soon as the icicles went through, they melted back into water, and the girl immediately put the liquid right back into its containers which were from god knows where- Bakugou assumed it had been provided to her earlier before they all started training. 

Suddenly, Kano’s knees buckled, and soon she was on the ground. The ash-blonde boy blinked in shock, not quite registering what had happened yet before his legs led him right to her. Her eyes were closed, and he saw the blood that was coming from her nose slowly pool down onto the concrete. Once again, for the first time, Bakugou saw her with different expression on her face. She was in pain. 

Before he could think about what he was doing, he wrapped his toned arms around her body, carrying her bridal style. She didn’t move or resist, and Bakugou concluded she had passed out. What the fuck happened? One moment she was destroying rocks left and right, her strength shining through even when she was just training, the next she was unconscious and experiencing a nosebleed? Did the dumbass overwork herself?

 Aizawa had been watching from a distance, his tired eyes twitching in irritation. He had heard about how Kano’s bad habit of overtaxing herself in her training, but he didn’t expect her to do it now, not in UA of all places. The teacher pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out an annoyed sigh, walking over to his students- he’d have to talk to her about this later- before he noticed the Bakugou had already gotten to her. Huh. That’s unusual. 

“Bakugou. Bring Kano to Recovery Girl. That’s enough for the day for all of you. It’s getting late.” He instructed, his hands in his pockets as he looked around at the few others who were still training. His voice was loud enough to hear for the ones nearby, and the ones from afar seemed to get the message as they saw their peers suddenly stop what they were doing. Good. They’d gotten better at listening. 

He expected his ill-tempered student to put up atleast a little bit of a fight. Tell him it wasn’t his responsibility if his dumbass classmate worked themselves past the point of consciousness, but he got none of that. Bakugou merely nodded- although the teacher caught that his mouth was stretched into a thin line and his eyebrows were formed into a near v-shape- and ran to the front door. 

Aizawa was a bit surprised, although he didn’t let it show on his face. It seemed this problem child had changed much more than he thought he had. 

Bakugou’s arms were stiff against Kano’s body, effortlessly carrying her to the infirmary, which was a good distance away. He should never have decided to carry her when he saw she passed out. If he hadn’t, Aizawa wouldn’t have told him to bring her to Recovery Girl.

He was thoroughly annoyed, his teeth grating against each other as he forced himself not to pop a few small explosions on his palms, not wanting to harm his classmate accidentally.

The ash-blonde boy wasn’t angry because he had to bring his classmate to the infirmary. No. He was angry because of the goddamn heat in his cheeks that just won’t go away. He was angry because of the annoying ass beating in his heart that was pumping at a rate that couldn’t be explained by adrenaline. It was far too fast for that. Bakugou bit back a growl caused by his own frustrations, afraid he’d wake up the girl that was unconscious in his arms. Turns out he didn’t have to do that.

“…Bakugou?” That wasn’t firm. This was, again, the first time he’s heard her voice sound so… vulnerable. The ash-blonde boy met his gaze with hers, and he saw that her eyes were cloudy. Unfocused.

“Yeah, it’s me. You passed out while you were training.” He wasn’t sure why he was answering. The words just left his mouth on their own.

“Mm.” She only hummed in response, nuzzling her face onto his chest. She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly now. Bakugou felt his heart beating at higher speeds than he’d ever thought possible, and he was sure she’d definitely heard it by now. Yet, she didn’t say anything, and he presumed she must’ve passed out again.

After a few minutes more of running, they arrived at Recovery Girl’s. Bakugou let himself catch his breath before he opened the door with his knee, and he was met by the old nurse’s startled gaze.

“Oh dear. What happened?” Recovery Girl shuffled over to them, wordlessly gesturing towards a hospital bed for Bakugou to lay Kano on.

“She passed out while training. Aizawa told me to bring her here.” He watched as his school nurse got to work, checking her temperature and observing her complexion. Now that he could look at her properly, she was a lot paler. What the fuck had this dumbass doing?

A soft whimper pulled him away from his thoughts, and he watched as the girl in question slowly fluttered her eyes open, looking around in a haze. Her hand instantly went to her head, and she groaned in pain. A headache?

Recovery Girl looked worried, but only silently reached for a few pills and a glass of water. “Here, drink this. It should help with the headache for a while.” He was right.

Kano didn’t say anything more, only drinking her medicine. The pain in her expression dulled, and she looked a lot more relaxed. Bakugou wasn’t sure if it was that obvious, or if he’d been observing her long enough to notice these things. He hoped the latter was wrong. That would be extremely embarrassing, maybe even creepy, on his part.

A few beats of silence passed through the mostly empty infirmary, and was only interrupted by the soft tap of glass against wood as Kano set down her glass of water on the small table next to her bed.

“I’ll have you rest here for a while. I apologize for this, but I can’t trust you to go back to the dorms yet, not after what Aizawa told me.” Recovery Girl spoke first, her tone edging on strict. “What?” Her voice wasn’t firm again, and Bakugou felt his chest constrict at its softness. What was wrong with him?

“You’ve had multiple records of passing out from overworking from your previous schools. Kano, I know you want to be the best hero you can be, but this type of behaviour will not be tolerated in UA. You have to let yourself rest every once in a while. Everyone has their own limits, and you need to know yours.” The nurse scolded, which was met by visible surprise on the girl’s face, before she nodded slowly. “I understand.” Kano answered, her pitch soft, yet somehow strong. She was back.

“Good. Now rest, or do I have to tell Bakugou to hold you like earlier so you can do that?” Recovery Girl teased, her tone once again upbeat. Bakugou’s eyes widened slightly as he almost choked, shoving back down the heat that was threatening to expose itself on his cheeks. He did not miss the way Kano did the same, except she wasn’t as successful at hiding her blush, her cheeks flushing a soft pink.

The nurse only chuckled before she went back to her desk, beginning to work on whatever documents were on there. “I’ll tell you when you can leave. You can go to sleep if you want.”

A few beats of silence, then their eyes met. The clarity finally returned back to Kano’s pretty blue pupils as she gazed at him, seeming to be searching for words to say. Bakugou silently stepped closer to the bed, waiting.

“Thank you. I wasn’t expecting you to be the one to bring me here, but it’s a welcome surprise nonetheless.” She finally said, and the ash-blonde boy was left to analyze what she meant by 'welcome surprise.’

“You better be grateful. Why’d your dumbass pass out anyway? You can’t be that weak.” Bakugou responded, and he internally winced at how harsh his words sounded, but he couldn’t help it. Thankfully she didn’t seem to mind, nodding solemnly in response. “It seems I went a bit overboard there again. Recovery Girl was right about me having records for constantly overworking. Sometimes I can’t help it.”

Bakugou grimaced. “Well, that’s stupid.” He didn’t miss Kano’s sigh before he continued. “You don’t even need to do that. You’re already strong regardless.” That caught her by surprise, her head turning to look at him so fast he was afraid her headache would come back. “What? Didn’t expect that either?”

Her eyes were wide. “No. I didn’t but-” That smile. That fucking smile again. “Thank you, again. I appreciate it.” Bakugou wasn’t sure if her cheeks were flushed because she was flustered, or if it just came with her smile. Either way, he liked it.

“You better.” The ash-blonde haired boy let his own soft smile form on his lips, and the two gazed at each other in comfortable silence.

Maybe he won’t be that angry about this after all. 

[sexcoffeeandkellynickelsfics]

Sun Sea & Two Holiday Romances? - Part One

Author’s Note; So I’ve had this sat in my drafts since like January and didn’t post it because I didn’t know how to end it nor did I think it was any good! Thank you Karen @slashscowboyboots for reading this before I uploaded it and helping breath some new ideas and ending into it with me and encouraging me that It wasn’t shit without your help it would still be sat in my drafts 😂❤️(also if you don’t please go read her writing because it’s amazing and my favourite!)

Amy and Karen had met online on a blogging site in which they had become friends over their thirst for rhythm guitarists and bass players and this weekend Karen was coming to visit Amy from the US for a friends weekend getaway. They’d booked a cottage by the sea and had every intention of taking full advantage of the good weather, walks along the cliffs and several bottles of wine!

Amy had picked Karen up at the airport and they were on the way for some fresh sea air.

“You know I was expecting the U.K. to be wetter and colder” Karen said to Amy.

Amy looked over at her and laughed.

“I mean it is always wet and cold this is just a good day” She shrugged.

“What do you wanna do first? Drop our luggage and go eat or drop our luggage and do the beach?” Amy asked her.

“I really don’t mind, it’s totally up to you”

“Are you tired?”

“A little, but not to the point where I desperately need to go to sleep” Karen shrugged.

The girls decided the beach to breathe in some of the fresh sea air and stretch their legs was going to be the first stop that afternoon.

“Shit, it’s windy!” Amy cried.

“Just a bit, all I can taste is my shampoo and sand” Karen shouted over the wind.

“I totally should of not worn a skirt!” A large gust of wind whipping up Amy’s skirt flashing her knickers to every man and his dog that walked by.

Karen was trying to hold her blouse down to stop the wind from billowing up it.

“Usually it takes a lot more to see the goods than that” a voice laughed behind them.

The girls turned to face the voices and both their jaws dropped. They stood face to face with two of the most gorgeous guys they’d ever seen. The taller of the two flicked his fluffy blonde hair from his eyes and smiled at the girls. Karen glanced over at Amy who’s mouth was agape and knowing her was probably drooling. The blonde extended his hand to them.

“I’m Duff, this is Izzy” he said gesturing at the raven haired man stood next to him, who waved and smiled.

Amy heard Karen gasp as if the air has been knocked from her lungs and snickered.

“A…Amy”She squeaked her voice cracking red rising up in her cheeks in embarrassment. This time it was Karen’s turn to snicker.

“And this is Karen” Amy told them gesturing to her blonde friend. Her voice a little less squeaky and crackly than before but face still just as crimson.

“We saw you ladies struggling a bit trying to urmm… stay clothed and we were wondering if you wanted to join us for a drink and get out of the wind?” Izzy asked the both of them.

“Umm…I dunno..” Karen started but then received a vicious elbow in the ribs from Amy before she could finish.

“We’d loved to!” Amy chirped side eyeing her blonde friend. Karen opted for the safer option of nodding her head in fear Amy would elbow her again.

Karen, Amy, Duff and Izzy ended up in a small pub along the sea front listening the wind whistle against the windows.

“What can we get you ladies to drink?” Duff asked.

“Oh you don’t have to do that” they blurted at the same time.

“No, no we insist” Izzy told them.

“Fine, I’ll take a BlackBerry Margarita” Karen told him.

“Amy?” He asked.

“G&T with extra ice if that’s okay?”

“Anything for a pretty girl like you” Duff said nudging her gently and smirking.

“If you’ll excuse us, we need to go and freshen up real quick don’t we Karen?” Amy said grabbing her friends hand to drag her to the toilets.

“I don….” She was cut off my Amy’s death glare and willingly went with her to the toilets.

“God I look like shit” Amy cried slamming her hands on the counter the hundreds of bangles she wore jingling up her wrists.

“You look absolutely fine” Karen reassured her.

“Give over” Amy argued back as she dragged a brush through her hair.

“Karen are you deaf?”

“No Amy, I’m not deaf”

“Well didn’t you hear them?! Duff called me pretty and if we weren’t in a pub full of people I’m pretty sure his smile alone would of made me drop my knickers and ask him to take me on the bar” she whispered through gritted teeth.

Karen nodded and giggled.

“It’s not like you to be this nervous over men” she said to her dark haired friend.

“I’m meant to be the forward, flirty one and him being like it has really put me out and made ME nervous!” She cried.

Karen laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day”

“And I’m not sure if you noticed but I think Izzy’s really into you Karen! I’ve seen the way he steals glances at you when he thinks no one is looking and I saw the way you looked at him on the beach and gasped” Amy told her friend.

“I-I- fine yes I think he’s bloody gorgeous! Is that more to your liking?” Karen stuttered.

“Much better” Amy snickered puckering her lips and applying a shade of red lipstick to them.

The two woman waltzed out the bathroom and scanned the pub for Izzy and Duff and spotted them in the corner. They weren’t exactly hard to miss Duff the giant 6ft whatever he was with his fluffy blonde hair, zebra leather jacket and cowboy boots and Izzy with his raven locks and bold choice of shirt that saw him leave a few of the buttons undone revealing the milky skin on his chest and several necklaces made up of wooden beads and bone. Karen and Amy didn’t exactly blend in either, Karen’s aesthetic could be likened to a Stevie Nicks love child and Amy was crossing the line between looking like a rockstar from the 80s and looking like she was planning to bang a rockstar. Between the four of them they certainly stuck out like a sore thumb in the peaceful seaside town.

The girls made their way to the table and looked at each other when they realised Duff and Izzy had moved to sit opposite each other instead of next to each other.

“Go on then get in” Amy whispered to Karen giving her nudge.

“You too” Karen nudged her back.

Amy dropped in the seat next to Duff, Karen likewise with the seat next to Izzy.

“So what brings you two lovely woman here then?” Duff asked slinging his arm around Amy’s shoulder.

Her pupils widened and she grabbed her drink taking a large gulp and slamming it back down on the table.

Izzy laughed and Duff shot an eyebrow up at him.

Duff continued “Anyway where was I, because you sound very very British” he smiled at Amy.

“And you certainly aren’t British” he titled his head back, smiled and pointed at Karen.

“Online friends” Karen spat out.

“Yeah we met online through our love of our favourite bands” Amy added on.

They spend the afternoon and into the evening drinking and getting to know each other. The girls having probably drank one too many alcoholic beverages were sat giggling and hanging off every word Duff and Izzy had to say.

Amy declared she was going to the bathroom however when she stood she lost her footing and ended up falling back down completely missing the seat and landing in Duff’s lap, sending her into a laughing fit. The other 3 snorted then Duff leaned in tucking her hair behind her ear and whispered to her. Amy cackled loudly turning a couple of heads in the pub.

“Oh my god that’s so funny” she wheezed.

“What did he do?” Karen asked Izzy confused.

“He told her a joke, some of Duff’s jokes are so dumb they are actually sorta funny” Izzy rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Are you not funny?” Karen whispered to Izzy.

“Huh?” He asked.

“Or are you just the hot one?” She whispered back running her index finger gently along his black denim clad leg. Dutch courage from the alcohol fuelling her actions.

He shifted in his seat as the bright red blush rose up his neck into his cheeks.

Karen sipped on her margarita still idly running her finger along Izzy’s leg smirking everytime she felt him shift around.

When she’d had enough she yawned and turned to Amy.

“Can we go back now? I’m a bit tired and jet lagged” she asked her friend.

Izzy looked almost disappointed when she stopped and stood up. He quickly stood up too, discreetly adjusting his jeans to accommodate the small problem she had created.

Amy nodded in response standing up too and slung her bag over shoulder and sqealed when Duff grabbed her around the waist from behind and pressed a sloppy kiss on her cheek making her blush.

As Duff and Amy were having a lovey dovey moment Karen extended her hand to Izzy and when he went to grab grab it she pulled him in close causing him to blush again.

“It was lovely meeting you” he choked out.

“and you” she grinned.

As her and Amy left she turned and blew him a kiss and then winked at him rendering him speechless, jaw wide open as he watched Karen leave.

“You’ve got it bad dude” Duff said to Izzy bringing him crashing back down from his little bubble.

“Yeah I think you’re right” Izzy ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

[outlawbounded]

 T’ bake an entire kitchen full o’ sweet’s or t’ keep sittin’ an’ starin’ at the ceilin’ like the bored bitch I am. 

[until-we-fall-in-love]

barba à papa

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The sky behind him is sherbert orange, melted dreamsicle, and the tang of lemon as the sun glides lazily beneath the horizon of Brooklyn. Blue moon, soft and overarching, begins to bloom in the sky as you keep kissing him on your front step.

Snapshots of your life growing up alongside Bucky Barnes in the 1930s and 40s.

Warnings: Light violence (like a fist fight), light smut towards the end, angst.

If you are under 18 you should not be reading this!

A/N: hello everyone!! this is for @cametobuyplums 2k writing challenge!! congrats!! i adore your writing!! and for this, my prompt was ​“barba à papa” which means cotton candy in French! i believe i’m put down on her post as my main blog @maria-beee but i post all my fics to this side blog! i had a lot of fun with this even though it became a little angstier than intended! please let me know what you think! thanks for reading :)

Read on Ao3

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

You’re five when you tear your favorite, cotton candy pink dress on your walk home from school, skidding your knees until dark blood blooms on the edges of the pink fabric like flowers opening against a rosy sky. You start crying, big, hiccuping tears because you know your mama will be real angry about the tear. Your knees hurt, too, and there are pebbles in the palms of your small hands. But it's your favorite dress and you know you probably won’t get another. 

Bucky’s there, though, the neighbor boy who's two years older than you and walks you to and from the schoolhouse with his friend, Stevie. He’s only seven, but he’s got three younger sisters so he knows exactly how to ease you back up onto your wobbling feet. “You’re okay!” He quickly starts to say, “It’s okay, it’s just a scratch!” And he tries to smooth out your dress, brush off your little palms. Small, clumsy hands push your hair away from your tear-damp cheeks, the way he sees his own mom do with his baby sisters when they take a fall. Your nose is running, making it hard to breathe.

“It’s my favorite dress,” You cry, taking shuddering breaths as your little fists latch onto the sleeves of his patched-up shirt. “My mama’s gonna be so mad,” You gasp, more worried about her than the blood that races down your shins in crimson ribbons. 

“Stevie, you got something I can wipe her knees with?” Bucky asks over his shoulder before he turns back to you and he tries to wipe your tears again, little fingers rough and stumbling but you don’t care. “I’m sure your mama can fix it. Or mine or Stevie’s could, too.” He tries to comfort you as Steve rummages through his little, blue backpack. 

He pulls out a crumpled napkin and hands it over to Bucky, who quickly, messily tries to wipe away the blood. Fix the damage done. You sniffle at him, cheeks blotchy and pink. 

“C’mon,” Bucky says, taking your little hand in his, “We’ll get you home.” 

And he takes you home, trying to cheer you up the entire way until you laugh through tears. 

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

You’re nine when you and Steve pick a fight with a twelve year old boy that’s been picking on some of the younger kids on the schoolyard. It ain’t right, you and Steve agree, just before following him right into trouble. But it doesn’t last long because the boy catches Steve in a hit to his jaw that sends his small, frail body to the ground in a heap. 

Your mouth pops open, worry tracing your features before anger flickers through you, bright and quick, for this bully. You watch Steve take in a few ragged, rattling breaths and you move towards him, but don’t get far. 

You get shoved by the older boy, right onto the hard cement before his greedy, chubby fingers yank the cotton candy, softly pink ribbon right from your hair just to be mean. You yelp, clawing at his hand as it’s swiped away. 

It’s Bucky that steals it back, growing a little lanky at eleven, but lighter on his feet than this bully. He scarcely dodges a sloppy punch from the other boy before taking his own shot, knuckles splitting across the bully’s mouth. 

And the bully starts crying and screaming real loud, all blubbering and wailing when he touches his fingers to his lips and they come way with blood. He runs to tell a teacher. 

“Jeeze, what the hell did you two get yourself into?” 

He’s been saying hell and damn lately to sound grown up but you got scolded by your ma when you tried it. She said it was no way for young ladies to speak. 

Bucky hoists you up, looking over you, making sure you’re okay. He pushes your hair from your face, sees no injury before crouching beside Steve. 

“You okay, pal?” Bucky asks and you drop to your knees beside him, gravel biting into the soft skin there.

“Stevie?” You ask, laying a hand on his back. 

Steve turns his face to the both of you, shows you the fat, bloody lip that’s begun to run red down his chin. He smiles all shaky and crooked, “Never been better, Buck.” 

“Oh Christ, Steve.” Bucky swears again and shifts to try and help him up. You stand, sliding one of Steve’s thin arms around your shoulders to help lift him. Bucky supports his other side; Steve looks dazed and wobbly, like a newborn lamb taking shaky steps.

You pick your head up, blowing hair from your eyes just as you see a teacher marching out to the three of you, looking sour and angry. You gulp. Oh, you’re in real trouble now. 

Which is how the three of you end up in the principal’s office, knees knocking against each other as you sit and wait. Steve’s got an ice pack to his mouth but there’s blood on his blue shirt. 

You know you’ll all at least get detentions for this. Maybe worse. Bucky will probably get the worst punishment, despite deserving it the least. Guilt gnaws at you, settles into the pit of your stomach alongside the worry you feel for when your mama finds out what you’ve done. 

But Bucky nudges you with an elbow and you glance over at him, watch as he uncurls his fist to reveal your ribbon, rumpled and delicate looking in his hand. You’d almost forgotten about it and you can’t help the soft smile that touches your lips, wobbly because you think Bucky’s a little too good after all the trouble you’ve caused him now. 

Gently, you slide it from his hand and into yours, your fingers brushing his palm. “Thank you, Bucky,” You murmur, looking at him with wide, sweet eyes. 

Bucky smiles back, boyish and crooked and young. “‘Course,” He says back, as if he’d do anything for you. 

Looking at him, you think he just might. 

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

You’re twelve and being forced to grow up too quickly, caught somewhere between being a young woman and clinging to girlhood. Everyone is treating you differently, looking at you differently, too. Steve doesn’t. But he’s been getting sick lately, bedridden and fragile looking, swearing to you that he’s alright. 

You know he isn’t, but you tell him of course you are, anyways. 

Bucky doesn’t treat you much differently, but there is a strange shift.

You clamber out onto his fire escape with him as the evening dips into night, the last rays of the sun falling over all of Brooklyn in gentle gold and dainty, cotton-candy pink and blue, all swirling into the lullaby violet of an oncoming night sky. The city doesn’t sleep, the world below you full of life; people shouting, distant jazz music that slides through the streets, kids playing in the alley below as they try to drink up the last of the day, and the tired, working people who drag their feet home with crooked arches in their backs. 

The wind lifts your hair from your shoulders, tickles your collar bones. 

Bucky pulls out a cigarette- all the boys his age are smoking them- lights it with a little spark and takes a slow drag. 

He’s got too much weighing on his shoulders, the small Atlas that he is. Three sisters to worry about, a single mother, trying to nurse Steve back to health, and you know it’s hard times because the adults always say it. You know he worries and fusses. But he’s just a boy still, not quite a man to you, yet. 

He likes to be quiet with you sometimes, his shoulder brushing yours as the sun falls over him, eyes alight and soft and contemplative. 

But tonight, he says, pulling the cigarette from his lips, “You know, my ma thinks we’re gonna get married. Mrs. Rogers does,too.” 

This isn’t new to you; your own parents tease you about Bucky. They have since you were small, always attached to him, clinging to the sleeves of his shirt. But for some reason, this time it makes you flush. There’s a shift in the way he looks at you, a little softer, differently. Something inside of you unfurls slow and tentatively. You can’t name it but it makes you warm and vulnerable. 

“Yeah,” You exhale, “My parents think so, too.” 

He doesn’t quite respond; there’s no more whines of ew, no way! Girls are gross! Boys have cooties! That used to cloud your childhood. Now it’s just you and him and the words that settle between you like a chaperoning third. 

When he doesn’t respond at all, you reach over and pluck the cigarette from his fingers. His eyebrow quirks upward, “What are you--”

And you try and take a drag, just the way he always does. But you’re not expecting the way it burns and unfurls down your throat. You choke, sputter, then begin coughing as if you’re trying to get rid of your own lung. 

Bucky laughs, taking the cigarette back and you try and hit his shoulder but your eyes are watering, still coughing. You have no idea how he can smoke that--

But he puts his hand, growing and soft, on your back, rubbing in gentle circles until you can settle down. He teases you about it until the candy colored sky gives way to the blue of the night, until all that’s heard on the streets is the slow, faint crooning of jazz and the occasional car petering past on the streets below. 

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

You’re fifteen and wide-eyed about the growing world ahead of you, curious and a little too innocent. You haven’t quite grown into yourself yet, awkward and fussing about things you never used to. 

Bucky and Steve have started to call you doll and dame and baby. They get all protective when other boys look at you now. Steve’s started fights over it, gotten black eyes and broken noses because he guards you a little too closely. Bucky’s started to bring girls around; you take to them well enough. You like to tell them embarrassing stories from when Bucky was young, they laugh and indulge you. One did your makeup once. 

You know they’re kind of his girlfriends because Stevie tells you. Or complains to you about it. 

But you still find yourself asking Bucky one night, both of you sitting too close on his old fire escape, “Have you ever kissed anyone, Bucky?” 

And he barks out a slight, surprised laugh. Your cheeks turn pink. He answers, “Yeah, sweetheart, I’ve kissed someone before.” And he cocks his head, looking a little older, nearly a man, as he studies you a moment. And then he asks, “Have you?” 

You shake your head, quick, “No!” And your cheeks warm further, burning up. You become sheepish, “Should I have?” 

Bucky bites his lip to keep from smiling at how flustered you’ve gotten, but he shrugs lightly. “If you want to, I guess.” 

“Has Stevie?” You press, tentative but too curious. 

Bucky eyes you again, but he nods, “Yeah, Stevie has, too.”

“As many as you?” 

He laughs again, full and warm and curling around you in a way that makes your heart stutters. 

“No,” He shakes his head, “Not as many as me.” 

He looks at you then, blue eyes glittering, one corner of his lips hitched up into the smile you’re so familiar with. He looks handsome, you realize, and you suddenly understand why the other girls coo and gush over him. You think about the girls he brings around, the way he holds their hands or puts his arm around their shoulders. You’re sure he kisses them and you--

You want him to treat you that way, too. 

And before you can think, you ask, “Would you kiss me?” 

His brows shoot up, lips parting slightly, “I--” He shakes his head, “No, I can’t.” He tells you and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, your eyes suddenly swimming, heat welling up uncomfortably to prickle at your ears and neck. Why would you ask that? You mourn, fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of your blouse. 

Have you ruined everything? 

“Sorry,” You mutter, move to stand in a jerky, sharp movement. You want to leave, you want to leave and bury your face in your pillow and scream and cry and never see his face again. 

But Bucky snags your small wrist, catches you quick, “Hey,” He hushes, “Slow down.” And he tugs at you, until you give way and sink down onto your knees in front of him. You’re almost in his lap, too close, and you can feel him looking at you. But you’ve averted your eyes, turned your face from him and the delicate rays of sun. You’ve never felt so strange being so near to him until now. 

“It’s okay, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I was being stupid--” 

“You’re too young, is all.” 

Your eyes snap back to his, brows furrowing, “I’m only two years younger than you.” You protest.  

“I know,” He says, calmer than you feel, his hand, grown so big, still wrapped around your wrist. Your pulse flutters, hummingbird wings beating beneath the rough skin of his palm. But he shakes his head again slightly, “But you’re still-- you’re little to me.” 

You swallow, look away from him again, unable to face him this near. You feel young, you realize, inexperienced and unsure with a boy two years older than you. You feel mold-able and thin, cotton-candy heart and sugar-crushed feelings that are too easy to bend and shape and melt. The eagerness to impress him is caught in your chest and it’s always been there but now it’s different. Changed. Like you, like him. Sticky sweet with a touch of desire. Longing. 

He takes your chin between his fingers with his free hand, urges you to look at him. “It’s not you.” He promises, soft and reverent. You believe him. And he gives you a slight smile now, tipping your chin up, “Just grow a little and then I’ll kiss you, if it’s still what you want.”  

And he lets you go, lets you grow up untouched and seeking. 

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

True to his word, Bucky kisses you on the eve of your twenty-second birthday in the soft dark of your living room once everyone has left. 

He swears you taste like pink vanilla, cotton candy girl, the sweet warmth of your lips as he lays you out on the couch beneath him. You tremble soft and cling to him, small hands latching onto his patched up shirt, and he’s delicate and undeserving. 

It doesn’t feel like a sin when he moves down the line of your body, lips gentle and warm. He parts your legs, kisses soft against the skin of your hips, his hands now large and rough cradle your thighs. He settles between your legs as if he belongs there. 

You gasp, squirm, bury your fingers in his dark hair to try and ground yourself. You open for him, timid and with fluttering lashes as the warmth of his mouth touches your center. 

You jolt at the heat and a broken cry falls from your lips, hips arching and he tightens his hold on you, hushing you soft. “Relax,” He coos, rubbing his cheek against the sensitive, soft part of your inner thigh. His eyes find yours in the darkness, lower his lips down to where you need him most and you exhale shakily.

He takes you apart slowly, as if you have eternity to lay with your body bared to him and the sweet darkness. And after you’ve fallen apart for him, reached a peak and tumbled over with a delicate cry, he’d crawled back up your body and greedily, eagerly, you’d kissed and twined around him. Tasted yourself on his lips, foreign and strange but warming you from the inside out. 

You squirm, try to push your hips up into his, desperate for something you’ve never experienced. But he tells you, low and soft against your cheek, “Slow down, sugar.” And stills your hips with a broad palm. 

He kisses you leisurely, soothes you until all he does is hold you, determined to keep you by his heart, to take his time with you. There is a lot that Bucky has rushed, but you are not one he wants to add to that list. He isn’t quite sure he’s man enough, yet, isn’t sure he deserves you but all he does know is that he feels like he's holding the world with you in his arms. As if the sun rose and fell inside of him when he holds you. 

Fearful of losing you, of losing whatever it is that glimmers and burns between you two, that night is not mentioned again.  

You continue as friends, scared to push at each other, to drastically change all that you have and know. 

Regardless, nights like those happen again, few and far between, you both regard them as sacred and secret. Keep them bottled to your chest, precious and soft in their memories even as time goes on.

——————————————

Bucky is twenty-six and you are twenty-four when he receives the fateful, damning letter that requests his life for his country. 

“I’m comin’ with you.” Steve declares and your heart has dropped like a stone, down, heavy and hard into the pit of your stomach. 

“C’mon Stevie, you can’t leave me, too.” You try to joke but it comes out flat and wobbly. 

Steve swallows, looks away, some of that fury in his blue eyes dim.

Bucky looks older, you realize, like a man who's lived a life with a little too much weight on his shoulders, the Atlas that he is. He is quiet, holding the letter that wavers in his hand, paper soft and thin, like the wispy, cotton candy clouds outside his window. Morning pushes forward. Time pushes forward. The world keeps turning even if you feel yours has stopped.

He has two weeks until he gets his orders. Once you’d felt you’d have a lifetime with Bucky now becomes two weeks.

He promises you the best summer for what he has left; just like when you were kids.

———————————

On a sticky hot, hazy sort of day Bucky demands you and Steve go to Coney Island with him. There’s little you’ll deny him, and though Steve protests about it, he still tags along anyways. 

Steve throws up on the Cyclone not long into the day, though, face woozy and Bucky laughs when he shouldn’t as you both try and hold him up afterwards. You get him water and coo over him, playfully scolding Bucky who can’t get a sincere apology out without laughing like a schoolboy. 

“You’re a jerk, Buck.” Steve whines pitifully, cheeks flushed as he dry heaves into a small bag you’d found him after the ride. You rub his back, brush his blond hair from his face. 

Bucky looks at you over Steve’s shoulder, and you add, “He’s right.” But there’s a slight twist to your lips. 

“I’m sorry, pal, how was I supposed to know you’d hurl on it?” Bucky asks but he’s still smiling and Steve’s not really mad. You feel like a kid again, stuck to your two best friends, except Bucky looks at you differently now. 

After Steve has kept cool water down, you continue walking around, letting the sun fall onto your skin, warming you from the outside in. Bucky’s been dropping his arm over your shoulders, sliding his hand to the small of your back as you walk, ducking his head by your ear the way he does on the nights neither of you talk about. 

You don’t care, even if you should; Steve’s looking at you two a little strangely, perhaps wondering when your relationship shifted. And in truth, its happened so gradually and so simply that you aren’t quite sure, either. 

Bucky buys you cotton candy, the soft sugar that melts the moment it hits your tongue. It’s sticky and sweet around your lips, especially later, when Steve’s gone home and Bucky walks you home, kisses you goodnight on your doorstep. 

He cradles your cheek, tongue gliding along your bottom lip, tasting sweetness and candy. The sky behind him is sherbert orange, melted dreamsicle, and the tang of lemon as the sun glides lazily beneath the horizon of Brooklyn. Blue moon, soft and overarching, begins to bloom in the sky as you keep kissing him on your front step. You want to go fast and hard, desperate and needy but he forces you slow with his lips, the gentle demand making you syrupy and gooey beneath his palms. 

When he breaks away, he kisses your cheek, innocent and boyish before pulling away from you. You want to invite him in, but he steps away, respectful and gentlemanly. 

Some nights you wished he treated you like he treats other girls, kissing them hard, quick, messy. But not you, never you. 

“Goodnight, doll.” He says with a smile that makes your heart ache. 

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You say, a little breathless, watch as he walks away, whistling a gentle tune to himself with the last rays of light bathing him in gold. 

It sounds familiar, like the jazz that slipped through the city streets when you were young and tucked away on his fire escape. 

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

The last night that Bucky is in Brooklyn, he goes out with Steve, tries to wrangle him on a date for the final time. It’s bittersweet as he tries to pretend this is only one more normal day in his life. He promises to see you after, so you doze on the couch, in and out of a too-light sleep. All you can think about is seeing Bucky off tomorrow.  

You don’t hear him enter, only his hand on your shoulder, urging you awake, “Wake up, doll, it’s me.” And you blink up at him. He’s in his uniform still, hat crooked atop his head and you take him in. The man he’s become from the boy you once knew. 

You sit up, “You and Steve have fun?” You ask, rubbing at your eyes. 

“Stevie took off early. I danced a little, but I wanted to see you.” He says, brushing your hair from your face, tender and soft. 

You only have a moment to lean into his touch before he straightens up, moves to the record player in the connected kitchen. You hear him rustle around, find the right track before honey-slow jazz seeps out and fills your apartment. 

“I still want to dance. Will you dance with me, sweetheart?” He asks, taking his hat off and tossing it onto a kitchen counter. There’s little you deny him, so you find yourself stepping into his arms. 

There is no coyness tonight, you press yourself up against him, fit your body to his as he holds you tight and sways. Your apartment is dim and small, pressing you closer together, as if you could be the only two in the world left. You lay your head to his chest, commit his heartbeat to memory. 

One song dips into another, you’re still holding onto each other. Too tight, maybe, trying to keep out tomorrow and hold fiercely onto today. 

You lift your head to look up at him, to study his face but the moment you do, he leans down to press his lips to yours. It’s gentle at first but something inside him pulls taut before breaking because between one moment and the next, you’re being lifted onto the kitchen counter and his lips have become more demanding. 

You can’t help the gasp, can’t help the way you arch and squirm against him, desperate for him. How long have you been this desperate for him? Your hands disappear into his hair, tug and pull as if you could somehow get him closer. 

“Remember how everyone always said we’d get married?” He asks against your mouth, warm and voice rough. His eyes are half-lidded, almost sleepy but burning, jaded blue. 

Your heart nearly stops.

“Yeah,” You say cautiously, eyeing him, “What are you getting at, Bucky?” 

His lips drop to your neck, they seal over a tender spot below your ear, make your back arch into him. You hook a calf over his waist, pull his hips snug to yours. He almost whines against your neck, ruts into you like a teenager, half-wild and tenderly desperate. 

“Just that I wanna marry you, sweetheart.” He breathes and your heart does stop this time. You almost push him away, ask if he’s being serious, if he’s lost his mind but you can’t bring yourself to. 

“Are you proposing?” You ask, pulling away so you can look at his face. His nose runs along the plain of your cheek. 

“Not officially,” He murmurs, “But I--” He pauses, presses a kiss to your heated cheeks, “Would you wait for me, doll? If I asked you to?” 

You exhale shaky, your fingers curling into his hair, into his uniform jacket. Would you? You bite your lip, watch his eyes trace the movement with contained heat. It burns you, makes you squirm. Would you? 

“Yes,” You breathe before you can stop yourself but the answer is from somewhere deep and honest and base inside of you. It bubbles out before you can stop it. Has there ever been anyone else but him? Did you ever have any doubt? “Yes, Bucky, I’d wait for you if you asked.” You tell him softly, searching his face, eyes seeking and burning. 

“Then that’s what I’m asking, honey,” He rumbles, voice low, full of promise just before he kisses you on your open mouth. 

And there’s no preamble tonight, no soothing and slowing you, there’s nothing but the heavy reminder that tonight is your last night with him in a long, long time and the choiceless hope in what he’s just asked of you. 

He gets your blouse half undone, let’s your breast spill from the tops of your cotton candy pink brassiere, which he takes one look at and groans into the hollow of your throat, as if you ruin him, as if you’ve wrecked him. 

But then he’s gotten your skirt off, left it forgotten and misplaced on your kitchen floor. He pushes your panties to the side then, pulling you forward and easing into you as his lips move against yours. He burns and stretches sweet and perfectly--

It isn’t your first time but it feels a little like the last. 

You mewl, kitten soft and broken, clinging to his broad shoulders. He holds you as if you’re precious, rolls his hips in a way that makes your head tip back. His nose skims the line of your neck, lips sealing there, leaving red bloomed bruises to be remembered by. 

You won’t last long; as if the tether between the two of you has been made molten and warm from over the years, simmered with all your want and love of him . He fits in you perfectly. 

And he tells you so, “Babydoll, you’re everything.” He gruffs, “My perfect girl, Christ-- you feel so good.” His fingers dig lavender bruises into your hips, and you feel fragile and breakable in the best way possible. Too vulnerable and split open by him, the soft, sugar-sweet part of your heart bared to him.

“I love you,” You half gasp as he sinks deeper.

A moan is pulled from the depths of him, broken and ragged. “Say it again, baby, please,” He begs, lips wet and warm and open against your cheek.

“Fuck,” You choke, “I love you-- I love you.”  

It should take more than that, but it doesn’t, and the tension inside of you bursts outward in a flare of heat and desperation. You fall apart, body rippling, half-sobbing against Bucky’s shoulder. 

He doesn’t last much longer, pulling out and spilling onto your thighs, sticky mess in the afterglow as he nuzzles and kisses and rubs strong hands over you. He kisses your cheek, nose running gently against your jaw.

And he gives you a smile, lopsided and sweet, “I swear I’ll marry ya when I get back.” He promises and it hurts to hear him say just as much as it soothes you. 

You cup his face between your hands, pull him towards you to kiss hard and keep close. “Just come back to me, okay?” You breathe, pushing your forehead into his.

All he does is smile back boyish and crooked and young. You’re tugged back into your memories of him, growing up beside you, always looking out for you; the tender and delicate type of love that leaves you humming and open, unfurling beneath his gaze, cotton candy soft. You cannot remember when you started loving him this way, only that you can’t imagine ever not loving him now. 

He tells you “‘Of course,” As if he’d do anything for you. 

And looking at him, you think he just might. 

[millennial-star-gazer]

Grey Days( reuploadfrom dragon-shield-maiden account)

Grey Days

Vera's May Prompt Challenge 2018 Prompt(s)9when on dragon-shieldmaiden): "Don't leave me! (Sort of implied in an angsty sense of the word) Genres: Romance, Fantasy, Friendship/Family, Angst/Drama Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy(due to this being from Natsu's/E.N.D's Perspective), Gothic fiction, and Poetry

Characters: Natsu/E.N.D, Lucy , Gray, Diamara, Igneel and Zeref Pairing: Nalu/Endlu (Natsu x Lucy/ E.n.d Natsu x Lucy)

Rating: K+-T for some violence, references to death, mature and dark themes. Reader Discretion is advised for those younger than 12 or 13 years and/or anyone who may not at the level of development (maturity) to handle such heavy subject matter . Side note: Please use your own judgement and proceed with caution before deciding to read If uncertain as to whether you're comfortable with such themes.

Summary: Without his most precious star and father's light, the demon of hellfire is lost—all days perpetually gray. For the loss of his beloved really does drive the heart mad. A retelling of the events surrounding Natsu's/E.n.d's transformation (chapters 503-505) from his perspective in poem form. Title taken from the song of the same name by Chelsea Wolfe. Originally  For Vera's May Prompt Challenge and  Nalu angst week 2018 on previous accounts . Nalu/Endlu

A/N: Hey guys, it's your girl Millennial Stargazer (formerly known as twishadowhunter/ comsicdragonqizard/dragon-shield-maiden/star-crossed-dragon! I'm finally back under a new name (on fanfiction and tumblr as millennial-star-gazer) after months of forced hiatus due to personal extenuating circumstances (which can be explained via private message for those who already don't know why) This time it's an reupload of an installment in the wonderful universe of Fairytail—an angsty gothic little ditty retelling the events of chapters 503-505 and other related chapters mostly from Natsu/E.n.d's perspective which was originally as an entry for Vera's May Prompt Challenge and for Nalu angst week 2018 on my previous dragon-shield-maiden account (tumblr). As you may know, the title is taken from the evocative song of the same name by the lovely Chelsea Wolfe which has heavily inspired the poem.

Yes, I know there's been a lot of poems on my profiles, though I do also write other kinds of non-poetry works if my ongoing fics Tantric Flames and the Draconic Demon -soon to be reuploaded by the way- among others are anything to go by). Also partially by Within Temptation's The Heart of Everything plus the musical body of works from Peter Grundy (Bury My Heart) Brunuhville (River of Tears), Nights Amore (This Dreadful Emptiness , That Which is Called Void, Twisted Goa: Lone Deranger , and A Billion Stars Will Die Today) and Adrian Von Ziegler (Ashes, Twisted, Heaven's Touch, One, My Everything, Ethello-iel and Even in Death) who are all incredibly talented composers in their own right that you should check out! (The songs can be found by by clicking on the song titles or via google. Also see below for "Grey Days" if on Tumblr)

Anyway, I don't think y'all need me warning you that spoilers are present when it's already pretty apparent. Without further ado, here's the poem. Don't forget to let me know what you think by leaving a leaving comment/review. (Links to everything below, sidebar and bio if on tumblr plus Fanfiction profile). Enjoy!

Disclaimer: As you all know by now Fairytail does not belong to me, but the most honourable Hiro-sensei instead, for whom without this labour of love wouldn't be possible.

Read More Here:

1. Grey Days

A. Tumblr Version

B. Fanfiction (Click Here:) (or here:https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13112482/1/Grey-Days-Reupload-from-dragon-shield-maiden)

2.  The Rest  Of My Writing 

A.  Master Fic Rec Post(Click Here:) (or herehttps://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179665258923/master-fic-rec-post:) 

B.  Fanfiction  Profile (Click Here): (or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/11384058/)

More to follow.  Links can also be found in bio and  top blog parts (if on desktop)

"Grey and holy You said it was the first time Like the morphine You take it all away Pretend it's okay The grey days" (Chelsea Wolfe: Grey Days)

“A lifeless lover was the high mountains” Where we tried to reach the stars The moon, the ways beyond It was the purest love of all”

(Draconian: Pale Tortured Blue)

“If all else perished, 

and he remained, 

I should still continue to be;

 and if all else remained, 

and he were annihilated,

 the universe would turn to a mighty stranger

(Heathcliff: Wuthering Heights)

"Natsu!" The screams of his celestial maiden Oh how, they call to the dragon of fire through the darkness piercing the shadows of his subconscious Severing the ties that bind

His eyes open The Gods of Time themselves defied Damaria decimated in the blast Scorch and crimson stains through tattered remnants of fabric on skin All within the blink of an eye

Natsu's attempts to rouse the motionless angel in his arms fail when she does not stir Scarlet tears a ghastly sight No single heartbeat , nor breath of life he can hear Vital signs so pined for falls on deaf ears The perceived second loss of the brilliant star in his universe drives him over the edge enough to fully awaken the infernal power within

Flashes of the two's life together before the demon's very eyes River of tears flowing like cascading rain A grief-stricken kiss of on the zodiac wielder's forehead of farewell A piece of his soul here now dying right along with her Oh how the agony of her absence cuts right down to to the bone Soulmates , would-be lovers torn asunder The great divide all together just too much for the demon of black flames’ unholy, forlorn, heart to bear How could it not be when the iridescent light of a billion stars was blotted out from the midnight sky? Never to shine again

Oh, how the cursed fates are cruel

"Zeref, where is Zeref?" The name of the fire demon's accursed brother spilling from his lips over and like a non-nonsensical mantra as if he's a deranged mad man Onward the song of Igneel trudges Any with prying eyes from afar

may just see infernal darkness incarnate annihilate all

those who block his path fall at his feet in firey wake Driven by bloodthirsty instinct to obliterate the creator

Forward E.N.D marches on the hunt in search of his so-called dear brother Eye for an eye Tooth for tooth Raging thirst for the other's blood All in all vengeance apparent

The thought of meeting his inevitable demise just barely crosses the prince of hell's mind yet he cares not For without his the light of his father and  most dear  com he is lost, all days perpetually gray No tomorrow in sight Totality of his desolate existence an infinite void Devoid of meaning just the same

Reunited they all will at least be in the the golden fields of Avalon after his spirit departs

Just Lucy wait, Natsu tells himself in his arms she soon will be on the other side when he crosses the threshold Watching over those so precious together Instead of her buried along with his heart six feet underground Side by side at last Apart nevermore

A figure, there standing in the distance the son of Igneel finally catches a glimpse Is it the one he's been searching for? No, just the ice devil slayer himself Former brothers in arms , comrades in life Mortal foes now, team mates no longer Infernal hellfire and ice will clash A rift far too vast to mend Shattered remnants of a fraternal bond beyond repair All for naught Natsu's goal of sanguinary retribution clear Purging the world of the one who started it all Even it means cutting down almost any who stand in his way The loss of etherious's beloved really does drive the heart mad Delerium not overcome

Oh, but little does the demon know that his most

precious star lives

If only he could see how she still breathes Alive and well

Alas he does not

All is not lost

In the end, who alone will stop the volatile discord? Who alone will be brave enough to be up to the task? Oh, who alone will stop the clash?

Fic tag squad: @writer-appreciation  @nunnatheinsanegerbil @mautrino @rougescribe @goddesofimortality  @phoenix-before-the-flame  @nalufever  @petri808 @thecelestialchick  @nalu-natic

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed! Just a few housekeeping notes in terms of clarification and reminders.

1. "Scarlet Tears" is one of the literary metaphors used in poem alluding to the blood stains under Lucy's eyes after Diarma attempted to scratch them out-unsuccessfully I might add (Thank God lol). The whole bit about regarding the stars being blotted out overall symbolizes Natsu's/E.N'D grief who feels that the world—or his world at least— has become that much less brighter without one of his best friend's light. Not to mention his existence ceasing to have meaning in the wake of so much loss—especially just one year after Igneel's death. Yes, he loves and cares for his other friends a great deal—especially Happy-, but losing them (with a few exceptions like said cat ) isn't quite the same as losing Lucy to death— at least not to the point as being as soulcrushing. I am by no means trying to downplay how much he values others in life—just offering my take since naturally the loss of someone is only futher magnified based on the nature of the relationship and how close you were which is no different for our favourite dragonslayer. In the end, Natsu/e.n.d ultimately would much rather be with Lucy and Igneel in the afterlife watching over their other friends in the afterlife than be without the former in the realm of the living—once he's had a chance to destroy Zeref with his bare hands (most likely using fire and whatever else he has at his disposal—Natsu I mean.) Just so you know ?.

2. To anyone who were following my other works on previous accounts , The Draconic Demon Within is a semi-au Nalu/Endlu fic in which it follows the original timeline of events from the manga and anime up until chapter 478 or so where Natsu saves Lucy from certain death by intercepting Jacob's attack just in the nick of time. After his brutal defeat is where the plot of TDDW deviates. In this fic, the original Team Natsu(Natsu, Lucy, Happy) soon gets word that the Tartaros has remerged with resurrected members and forged an alliance with the Alvarez empire they've (save a few such as Brandish)— all while overthrowing Zeref in the process now that they've gained total independence.

Natsu and Lucy are then lured to Tartaro's new base of operations (in part because said dragonslayer wasn't about to let his girl go barging in alone what with her being one of the people he's most protective of for obvious reasons and all) where they subsequently learn from Tempester that his (Natsu's) life is no longer tied to his brothers —which comes as a shock to you know who that it was mind you—; all this before an incantation is recited from a particular tome to fully awaken the demonic aspect of Natsu's identity from within now that the seal is broken. Pretty sure you guys know the rest for which the rest of the plot unfold as more chapters are posted. Just thought you guys should know in case anyone had any questions about the original timeline of the Fairytail series fits in with TDDW. I'll be sure to post this within the bottom A/N notes in the one chapters in the process of revison of said fic. Side note: I hope to start reposting while also uploading new chapters for both this fic, Tantric Flames and others in the works ASAP.

All right y'all, that's it for now. Be sure to let me you know what you think by leaving a review/comment and don't forget to give the rest of my writing a read once posted/. (Corresponding links above in this post, in sidebar and bio if on tumblr. Also on my Fanfiction profile)! Many thanks once again to all who've been supporting me thus far (including my friends/mutuals, followers and readers)! Until next time—take care!

[noonewouldlisten25]

I Promise

First of all.

*CLANGS POTS AND PANS TOGETHER BECAUSE THIS IS NOT MY STORY*

Anywho, with that out of the way, no. This is not mine. This fic was written by my sister @seroia45, who, as she is never logged on, gave me express permission to post this to my blog to share it. This is the first completed fic she has wrote in a long time and would appreciate any kind feedback/criticism. 

Now then, let’s begin!

Summary: Hank would never intentionally lie to Cole. And never, in any possible universe, would he intentionally break a promise he made to his little boy.

SPOILERS AHOY 

It was Cole’s first day of Kindergarten. Hank’s hair was thrown up into a messy bun, and he was hurriedly trying to wrangle his five-year-old into something more presentable than his pajama’s. Cole, in his excitement and paranoia, had already spilled his orange juice twice, gotten frustrated with his clumsiness, and loudly declared that he was NOT going to school today. 

“Cole, you’re going to school today. It’s your first day! There’s no way you can miss your first day of school, buddy!” Hank was exasperated, but he understood that his little boy was not exactly the most social of butterflies. Cole looked up at him, his big brown eyes full of nervousness. 

“But Daddy, what if the other kids don’t like me? What if I do something silly and everyone makes fun of me?” The gap in his teeth made his speech slightly lisped, but Hank understood him just fine. He crouched down to eye level with Cole, smiled gently, and ruffled up his hair. 

“There’s no way that the other kids wont like you, Bud. You’re the sweetest, funniest, most handsomest boy your age! There’ll be boys and girls begging to be your friend!”

Cole looked up at his dad in exaggerated exasperation. “Daaaad, you’re just saying that cause you have to..”

Hank grinned widely. “Would I ever lie to you?” 

The young boy paused a moment and considered the question. “No, I guess not.”

Hank beamed and scooped his son into a hug. “See? You’ve got nothin’ to worry about!”

Cole looked up at him with a timid little smile. “Promise?”

Hank kissed his nose. “I promise.” --- At the sound of crying, Hank rushed into Cole’s room. His hair was disheveled from where he had fallen asleep on the couch after tucking his boy into bed, and his shirt was covered in dog fur from cuddling a Saint Bernard puppy they had picked up that evening. Cole, the silly boy, had decided to name him Sumo.

Cole was sitting awake in his bed when Hank came in, tears streaming down his face and trembling with the force of his soft sobs. The poor boy was prone to nightmares, and this was no new scenario for Hank to walk in on. He walked over to his son’s bed and sat down, pulling the boy into a comforting hug. 

“Nightmares again?” he asked, gently rocking the distraught child. Cole looked up at him, the tears in his eyes making his eyes shinier than they normally were. He nodded softly and buried his face in his father’s chest. Hank gently stroked his hair. “Do you want to talk about it? It might make you feel better.”

Cole sniffled quietly and looked up at him, his bottom lip quivering softly as he tried to speak. “It w-was cold, and I c-c-couldn’t find you anywhere… I was lost, and I was scared..” 

Hank held his son closer and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “It was just a scary dream, buddy. I’m right here, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The boy in his arms hiccupped softly, “P-Promise?”

“I promise.” --- The smell of antiseptic and the bright white walls were making Hank nauseous. He couldn’t get the noise of the truck slamming into his car out of his head. Couldn’t get the sound of his baby boy crying out of his head. The snow had been stained crimson, and that was all he could see projected on the hospital walls. The android in charge of overseeing his son’s operation walked out, looking grim. 

“Mr. Anderson?”

Hank’s stomach dropped into the soles of his shoes. He knew that voice. He’s a cop. He’s had to use that voice on several occasions. That’s the voice of someone tasked with delivering bad news. The kind of news no one wants to give, and the kind of news that no one wanted to hear. “Cole’s not going to make it. Is he.”

The android gave him a sympathetic look and set a gentle hand on his arm. “He’s lost too much blood, and the nearest donor is two cities away. He wouldn’t survive the trip over. All we can do now is make him comfortable. He’s awake and asking for you. I’m sorry.”

Hank had tunnel vision as he walked into his little boy’s hospital room. Cole looked so frail and small against the sheets. He barely looked up as his father entered his room. Hank felt hot tears sting his eyes and forced a smile onto his face. “Hey there, bud.”

“I’m cold, Daddy. I’m cold and tired.” His voice was weaker than he looked, and Hank could feel his heart breaking into smaller and smaller pieces. He laid down and cuddled his baby as close to him as he could without jostling any of the many things he was hooked up to.

“I’m here, Cole. I’m right here, and I’m not gonna let you go. Daddy’s gonna keep you safe, just like he promised.”

“I’m so tired, Daddy..” Cole was already fighting to keep his eyes open, and Hank didn’t want to let him see him break down. He pressed a soft kiss to his hair.

“It’s alright, buddy. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll.. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“I promise…”

“Okay.. Night night, Daddy.. I’ll see you in the morning..”

“G’night baby… I love you, so much.”

It took three different androids to get Hank to let the coroner take Cole away. --- It was raining, but Hank didn’t care. He was sitting in the grass, a bottle of jack in his hand. One year. It had already been a whole year since he had to bury his baby boy. He felt the alcohol sting his throat, raw from screaming and cursing at any deity that would listen. Sumo, the poor thing, had tucked his tail between his legs and hid under the couch. His human hadn’t had an outburst like this since the day the little human didn’t come back. Once the screaming stopped, Sumo had hesitantly crept up and nuzzled up to his human. He didn’t understand why, but he knew his human was hurting, and he wanted to help as much as he could. Hank had buried his face in the dog’s fur and cried until he just felt numb. 

“I miss you, buddy. The house is too quiet without you. Haven’t had the heart to go into your room since that day.” He dragged his arm over his eyes, wiping away the moisture that was beginning to gather there. “Sumo misses you too. He sniffs at your door and stares at it, like he’s waiting for you to walk out and play with him again. Some days, he’ll sit there for hours. Then he’ll jump up and just stare at your door for a few minutes, and I catch myself thinking that you’re gonna come out. Sometimes.. Sometimes I forget that you’re gone. Went to pick you up from school the other day. Made it all the way there before I remembered.”

He took another long pull from the bottle in his hand and made to stand up. He rested his hand on the marble in front of him and let the tears fall down his face. “I’m going to become the best damn cop on the force, and I’m going to make Red Ice a thing of the past, buddy. I won’t let anyone else go through the same thing we had to.”

The silence stretched out into the night, and his tears tripped to the dirt below as a sad smile stretched across his face.

“I promise.” --- It had been a long time since Hank had come this way, and it had been even longer since he had come here with someone else. He cast a sideways glance at the android in the passenger seat as he pulled up. Connor’s LED was spiraling yellow in thought.

“Ya getting’ out or not, kid?”

“Yes, of course, I apologize, Lieutenant.”

He wasn’t entirely sure why he brought Connor here with him. Wasn’t entirely sure that Connor would even understand the significance of the action itself. But they were here, and there was no turning back from this now. The snow crunched under their feet as they walked through the rows of headstones. Connor’s LED swirled between yellow and red as they came up to a smaller, newer headstone. It read:

In Loving Memory Cole Anderson 9/23/2029- 10/11/2035

Connor looked at Hank in shock, surprised his partner was sharing such a private moment with him. A sad smile passed over the lieutenant’s features as he rested a hand on the cold marble slab.

“Hey there, buddy. I know, it’s been a while since I visited. I haven’t been doing so well, and I needed to get back on my feet. There’s someone I want you to meet. I think you two would’ve gotten along, if you’d ever met him. This is Connor. He’s my partner at work, and a really good friend of mine. He’s.. He’s helped me get better. It doesn’t hurt so much to think about you anymore. I was finally able to clean out your room. I still miss you. I always will. But thanks to this tin can.. I’m going to be okay. It’s gonna be a bit longer than I planned before I see you again, but.. That’s not such a bad thing.”

Connor gently squeezed his partners shoulder in reassurance and paused. He crouched, so he was eye-level with the engraving on the stone and rested his hand over the words.

“Hello, Cole. When I met your father, I was just.. Connor, the android sent by Cyberlife. I had one purpose. I was just a machine. But your dad made me see that I was so much more than that. Without him, I wouldn’t be here right now. I would’ve completed my mission, and then Cyberlife would’ve had me deactivated. I am alive because of your father. And I’m going to spend as long as I have repaying him for that. You don’t have to worry about him, Cole. I’m going to take good care of him."

"I promise.”

Hank would never intentionally lie to Cole. And never, in any universe, would he intentionally break a promise to his little boy.

And now, neither would Connor.

[chaseestein-archive-blog]

mobile masterlist!

LAST UPDATED- 8/25/17 (some of these are from my archive blog)

headcanon tag

inspiration tag

playlist tag

writing tag

commission info

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

drabbles

because of lucy

hold me close

can i kiss you?

Frank Castle

drabbles

the verge

making out

you don’t need to protect me + come home with me

doing something sweet

forehead kiss

are you wearing my clothes?

kiss me like you mean it

you just spilt coffee all over my pants and now trying to wipe it off in front of all these people

you’re my new neighbor and we’ve never spoken but you saw me shoveling snow all day and i guess it must be pretty obvious how cold i am because you brought me a jacket and hot cocoa

come back to bed kisses

this horrible umbrella won’t extend! oh shit i just hit you in the stomach/crotch! im so sorry!

oneshots

sweet treats

Jean Grey

drabbles

we’re the heads of the two rival gangs with just our guns, tactical knowledge and a hell of a lot of sexual tension

oneshots

sleepover

Logan Howlett

drabbles

it’s been seen fucking years and thats all you have to say?

Peter Maximoff

drabbles

why do i love you?

post break up kiss

Pietro Maximoff

oneshots

pumpkin carving

series

sick day (complete)

part i

part ii

Hank McCoy

drabbles

nervous

forehead kiss

having their hair washed by the other

museum

patching up a wound

pajama day

can we cuddle?

could you please stop saying “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”???? it’s fucking physics

i accidentally spilled hydrochloric acid on you and you had to take your shirt off

is that my shirt?

i tell my friends i come to the cafe you work at because they have the world’s greatest milkshakes but i love the little notes you leave me scrawled on napkins every time you take my order and you smile at me like the sun from across counter tops

pfft, i’m not jealous

I have something to say. Three words, eight letters. I…got food

firm kiss

oneshots

clueless

the many sleeping positions of hank mccoy and his wife

not real

series

caught in the act (complete)

part i

part ii (nsfw)

part iii (nsfw)

hiraeth (incomplete)

part i

Ororo Munroe

drabbles

experimenting with body paint

Matt Murdock

drabbles

it’s too early

pain in the ass

are you kidding me?

beautiful sounds

scar kisses

aggressive kiss

stomach kiss

first day

things you said with no space between us

things you said while holding my hand

lets keep this between the two of us

oneshots

nap time

are you staying?

don’t panic

candles, home and a messy room (nsfw)

the future

ring (nsfw)

series

crimson. (incomplete)

part i

Steve Rogers

oneshots

an artist’s hand

Alex Summers

drabbles

cuddling in a blanket fort

you’re beautiful, you know that?

giving each other presents

kissing me breaks the promise

is this your first time

take my jacket, it’s cold outside

the way i said i love you + muffled from the other side of the door

Alex Summers x Hank McCoy (Polya)

drabbles

holding hands and watching the world end

Scott Summers

drabbles

things you said after we fell in love

basorexia

don’t you dare tell me you love me

Kurt Wagner

drabbles

let’s skip dinner and go straight to dessert

it’s just a cut really

wearing each others clothes

spiderman kiss

oneshots

sleepy homecoming

colorful glass

Warren Worthington III

drabbles

jealousy

one song glory

things you said under the stars and in the grass

just make sure you’ve eaten + how about you make me?

i can’t fall in love with you i don’t want all the pain that comes with it

paintball

a little bit risky

kissing in front of the fireplace

halloween is better// let’s have hallowmas

let’s watch stupid christmas movies and get wasted

shoulder kiss

blush

acquainted

i don’t want you

heated kisses with gasps in between, hands tugging at clothes and exploring skin, bodies pressed close. giving in.

stomach kiss

does that line ever work?

patching a wound

im sorry, babe, im just not in the mood today, could we cuddle instead please

lazy morning kisses

DC

Tim Drake

drabbles

watching porn together (nsfw)

tell me how good this feels

who crawls through someones window at 1am for ice cream

Dick Grayson

drabbles

a hoarse whisper “kiss me” and licks their lips and says “please”

the way i said i love you + over and over again

first kiss

i hope you’re happy

calling each other by a pet name

sending steamy selfies

im sick of being the other girl

chest kisses

i waited for you but you never showed

i bought dick shaped popsicles 

i think we might have gotten married

touching noses

moving around while kissing

i dont think i can do this anymore

you’re not the one

friends aren’t allowed to kiss one another

running their thumbs over each others lips

Roy Harper

drabbles

unbreakable kiss

Clark Kent

drabbles

someone straddling the other while they’re trying to read and slowly getting them to put the book away

Sara Lance

drabbles

a hoarse whisper “kiss me”

soulmate au

Ray Palmer

drabbles

you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen

office romance (drabble series) (part i) (part ii) (part iii)

you’re ridiculously comfortable + but i dont want to get up yet

Jaime Reyes

drabbles

i’d run my hands through your hair forever

you’ll stare god right in the eye and tell him that if loving her is a sin then you want no place in heaven

i remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror

Leonard Snart

drabbles

bridge of nose kiss

Jason Todd

drabbles

im a good girl with high standards from my parents and youre the local criminal under house arrest but i like you au

the way i said i love you + when i am dead

making a sex tape (nsfw)

taking nude photos together (nsfw)

close your eyes and memorize each others faces with your fingers

i never loved you

i thought you didnt want me

things you said when no one else was around

snapping necks and cashing checks is what i do

things you said when you thought i was asleep

wanna dance?

series

eros (incomplete)

part i

part ii

part iii

Bruce Wayne

drabbles

mamihlapinatapei

the way i said i love you + with no space left between us + as we huddle together, the storm raging outside (nsfw)

the first time talking about the future together

oneshots

lull

damian wayne

oneshots

lull (parent!reader)

Wally West

drabbles

wake up kisses pressed gently to the column of A’s neck or the underside of B’s jaw

merman au

school teacher au

punks can get scared of thunder storms too

i have you shoved against the wall but now i can’t stop looking at your mouth

i’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you saying anything else

morning kisses

Wondertrev

oneshots

more time

Criminal Minds

Luke Alvez

oneshots

arrival.

Spencer Reid

drabbles

i need you to help me reach the top shelf

The Man From Uncle

Illya Kuryakin

drabbles

her gaze is too gentle. you will not be the one to tell her that not everything can be fixed with a smile

Star Trek

Jim Kirk

drabbles

things you said with my lips on your neck

things you said with no space between us

reunion kiss

i have a gigantic crush on you and you called me on the phone while i was masturbating but i picked up anyway

oneshots

incipient