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deansapplepie · 11 months

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Till THE DEAD do us part| Chapter 10

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 9 Chapter 11

Masterlist

Chapter 10: I’d carry it proudly

Summary: Y/N and Daryl get in the woods to practice some archery. Daryl gets to know more about Y/N, but she also wants to know about him. Things get heated between them.

Warning: light swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of psychological abuse, past trauma, mentions of pregnancy, Rick being an annoying big bro, make out session, smut, kisses, fingering, dry humping, Daryl’s almost a sex educator in this one. Minors do not interact. 18+ (Let me know if I forgot anything)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 7,961

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. ALSO, this is my first smut in English, so I hope it’s not too bad.

“Ready for yer crossbow lessons?” Daryl asked sitting by your side to have breakfast.

“I was born ready, babe.” You answered before shoving some eggs on your mouth. “But if I’m not good at it, the fault is gonna be on the teacher.”

“Let me guess, and if ya’re good is just ‘cause ya’re a pro on everything.” He answered, raising a brown and with a smirk on his face.

“Of course, I have my own merits.” You elbowed him playfully. “Where are we going to practice?”

“Thought ‘bout going into the woods and making some targets in different places and distances. Think it’ll be good to teach ya.” He said starting to eat.

“And how’s your wound? Do you think it’s safe to go?” You asked concern in your voice.

“It’s good, not as painful as befor’” he said, but he didn’t say it didn’t have pain at all. “ ‘sides that, we aren’t going on Nervous Nelly and I have ya to cover my back. I guess we’re jus’ fine.”

You finished eating and then went to prepare everything for leaving the farm to train, you changed your clothes and took your gun and knife to go. You left Luna with Carl and headed to Daryl’s camp, apparently he didn’t want to leave the place. He told you he didn’t want to be annoyed, you questioned how come you could be around and he didn’t had an answer he just grunted, or he didn’t had the courage to tell you he didn’t want you there too or you were the only one he tolerated.

He was ready and waiting for you when you arrived, after that you went in the direction of the woods, walking side by side. The weather was still a little bit warm, but it was starting to have a cold breeze, which means fall and winter were on their way. In the old world, you used to enjoy this seasons, but now you weren’t so sure about it, cause you didn’t know if you would have a roof to be when the really cold weather came.

“That day, did ya think I was going to beat Carol?” Daryl surprised you with a question, bringing you back from your thoughts.

“No, not at all. But I must confess you scared me a little. Beating women just doesn’t sounds like you. I’d never think that.” You said, your hand tentatively brushing on his while you two walked.

“Was… the bastard that hurt you like Ed?” Wow, you didn’t really see that coming. Did he thought your reaction had something to do with it? Did you look so angry that day that he thought it was related to past traumas? Well, maybe it was a little but either way, you think you’d not let he treat anyone that didn’t deserved like that, in the same way you’d not permit anyone to treat him like that.

“Not exactly…” You touched a tree while you were passing. “The psychological abuse? Yes, but he never laid a finger on me. The only time he tried was when we broke up, well, I broke up with him, but luck me we were at Rick’s for a family barbecue and Shane happened to be just passing by the living room. So you must imagine how it all ended.” You didn’t like to talk much about it, but with Daryl seemed just right… Like he’d not judge you or take the guys side how many misogynists men would do.

“I’m sure he deserved all the special treatment Shane gave him.” Even talking with you he observed everything around you, what made you impressed on how he could focus so perfectly on two things.

“You should see, he got worse than Ed.” You took a deep breath, you just wished you could forget everything about him, about that time and about all the words you used to hear from him.

“Nothing that he ever told ya is true.” He brushed his hand against your and caught your pinky on his.

“How could you know?” You observed the dried leaves you were stepping along the way.

“ ‘cause I know ya.” He simply said, for him it was enough and on his mind nothing would ever justify the abuse someone suffered, he could understand it better than anyone.

“He was a sick son of bitch.” You took a glance at your intertwined pinkies and couldn’t help but give a small smile.

“For sure, he had an incurable case of small dick.” You weren’t expecting this sassy remark, but stopping to think it really sounded like something Daryl would say. You couldn’t hold the laugh, he wasn’t completely wrong… Not that you had seen too many dicks in your life, Paul had been your first and only boyfriend being with him during the late high school years, college and a little bit after it, so his dick was the only one you had seen officially speaking, but you already watched porn and his were kind of small if you compared, not even medium to be honest. “By the laugh, I know I’m right.”

“Now, that you already made I confess my darkest secrets, I think it’s fair if you tell me something about you.” You said, you actually didn’t know what to ask, there was so many things you wanted to know about him, but you also didn’t want to pass the limits.

“I think it’s good here.” He stopped in front of a group of trees that conveniently were organized by mother nature transversally and would be perfect for the practice. “How about ya do yer best on our training and if ya do good, I answer whatever shit ya want to know.”

“Deal. Be prepared to answer me whatever I want.”

He got a hammer from his bag and some nails, with it he nailed four wood boards, one in which tree. He was really prepared for the lesson and got you impressed. After nailing the last wood board he came to you.

“First, let’s talk about position. Ya know how to shot a gun, a rifle too. It’s a bit similar.” He took his crossbow and handed it to you, then he positioned himself behind you. “Keep yer legs a bit apart from the other.” He signaled with his feet touching yours to show how it should be. “Now the posture, keep yer spine straight, shoulders to the back.” He placed a hand on your back and with the other hand he pushed one of your shoulders to show where it should be. His hands were so warm that you could feel it even with some layers of clothing. “Now, show me how ya hold a rifle.” You hold the crossbow just like if you were going to shoot a rifle. He covered your arms with his and put his hands on top of yours just positioning it a bit better. “Good, that’s it.” He said by your ear, his lips almost touching you, you could even feel his stubble, sending chills throughout all of your body. “Now if ya wanna have a good shot ya need to look here.” He pointed the middle of the weapon. “When ya see where ya wanna shoot, just press here. Just like a gun.”

“And now?” You asked, almost not breathing, aware of his presence and trying to remain like he said.

“Now you need to learn how to put an arrow in the bow.” He distanced himself from you and you almost cried for losing the contact.

“It can’t be hard, right?” You asked relaxing and pulling at the cord from the crossbow, it was very strong, you’d need to use some force to do it.

“If ya have strong arms it isn’t.” He said. “Gimme it here.”

He took the bow and showed you how you had to pull the cord and then the arrow. It looked so easy with him doing it, like it was nothing.

“Now, ya try.” He handed you the bow back.

You needed to use all your strength to do it, but you did and you didn’t complain in any moment even though you felt a light pain on your arm.

“Try to aim at the middle of the boards, the middle is the walker brain. Too much for the sides and it means the arrow missed.” He said, leaning on a tree that was behind you.

“Are you making unrealistic rules so I can’t ask you your deepest secrets later?” You questioned while positioning yourself to shoot for the first time.

“Nah, I just don’t want ya to be a shitty archer. Ya can thank me later.” He said unamused.

“Well, let’s start then.” It couldn’t be too different than a gun, right? He even said it himself.

You aimed at the first tree, the one that was closer. Daryl made the rule that you could just move to the others when you hit at least close to the middle of the board. You concentrated yourself, took a breath and shot it hitting the extreme left of the board, so the arrow fell a little after the tree. You huffed disappointed and went ahead to get the arrow back. When you turned back, you saw a smirk on Daryl’s face.

“What are you smirking about?” You asked him, you wanted to know what was so funny.

“Ya thought it would be super easy, didn’t ya?” He had a mocking smile on his lips and you wanted to punch him and at the same time kiss his handsome sexy lips.

“I didn’t. BUT I expected I would at least hit close since I aimed at the middle of the thing.” You protested, you were good at shooting and you knew it would take a lot of work from anyone that wanted to be an archer like Daryl.

You prepared the bow one more time to shoot again, honestly now you could get why Daryl’s arms were so muscular, pulling the cord everyday all day was a damn work out. You positioned yourself once again to aim at the target.

“I know ya said, ya didn’t like him like that. But, don’t ya think Shane like ya?” Daryl asked, trying to sound cool as it wasn’t a question running on his mind for a long period of time. First he had thought about it back at the quarry, while you two got close he would receive nasty looks from Shane, as if he hated him. Then he started to return the same looks, and still today he would receive the stares from Shane. When you told your story about your ex, he couldn’t help but question if Shane did what he did because you were like a little sister or because he liked you in a different way.

“Really? Now are you trying to make me lose my concentration?” You got out of position to look back at him.

“No, ya don’t have time to concentrate when there’s a walker coming. Go back to yer position, continue aiming at the target and answer ma question.” He answered gesturing with his hand for you to get back to the job.

“Bossy…” you murmured turning back to the target. “Now you owe me 2 questions.”

“Whatever.”

“No, he never looked at me like that, I guess.” You positioned your body in the correct way again. “I’m 6 years younger than them, or something like this, which means when they started to get into girls, I was still a kid. They babysat me and used the cute little sister card to impress the girls. So, nah.”

“But ya grew.” He gnawed his finger nervously praying that you didn’t look back. He listened to your heavy sigh, then you shot the target and were able to hit a little bit more on the inside, but still not close enough to the center.

“Well, in case you didn’t notice, he’s not exactly afraid of Rick. So if he wanted, he would have made a move.” You answered taking the arrow back from the board. “And, I’d have refused as I already told you before I never liked him like that.”

You were preparing once again the arrow to shoot, he said nothing. The same way he wished he should have kept his mouth shut back that day in the woods in the quarry. But once again he was relieved knowing not only you had no interest in Shane, but Shane had no interest in you.

“Is Daryl Dixon jealous?” You asked aiming at the target one more time and shoot hitting almost the middle of the target.

He took your success on hitting the target as an excuse to not answer your question, because he’d not admit he was indeed Jealous. “Congrats Pup, ya killed the walker. Now move to the next target.”

“And you are not answering my question.” You said while moving to be in front of the second target.

“I’ll answer when ya finish hitting the targets.” He answered grumpy as if he wasn’t the one making personal questions.

“You better do.” You said and shot an arrow on the second target.

You continued training with the bow, every time you changed for a target in a more distant tree it would get more difficult to hit the board and took more time from you to get close to the middle. From time to time Daryl would come to you and help to correct your posture. When you got to the last tree it was taking a little longer from you to hit the target, more because your arms were tired and sore from pulling the cord on the crossbow many times.

You had already lost count on how many shots you had on the fourth and last target. You could tell Daryl your arms were aching and that you wanted to stop, and you were sure he wouldn’t mind. But you didn’t want to give up and go back defeated, also you were expecting you could make some questions to him. There was so many things you wanted to know that you weren’t even sure what to ask. You decided to give yourself 5 chances to hit the board, if you didn’t succeed you’d give up and tell Daryl you’d try another day.

You shot one time, too high. Another one, too low. You tried a third time and it hit on the right side, not too distant from the border, but not exactly close to the middle. You took a deep breath, aimed at the target and shot hitting it almost in the middle. “YEAH!” You shouted jumping in excitement. “Did you see D.? I got it!”

You jumped at him letting the crossbow fall to the ground. You were so happy to achieve the goal that he couldn’t help but smile at you. When you threw yourself at him both of you lost the balance and fell to the ground, you on top of him. He let out a groan feeling pain in his still in recovery wound.

“Oh my gosh, D. I’m sorry. Are you ok?” You asked looking worriedly at him. “Let me check if the stitches are ok.”

He held your hand before you could put it under his shirt and lift it. “I’m ok. I don’t feel blood dripping from my injuries. Don’t need to check.” The move didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you knew about his boundaries, or some of them, you just didn’t know why.

Your knees were on each side of his hips and you didn’t want to waste one of your questions just to know if he was jealous or not. You knew he was, even if he’d never admit it out loud. You looked at his face and finished on his eyes. “You have no reason to be jealous, ‘cause I only have eyes for you and in all those years you’re the only one that made me feel like this, Daryl Dixon.” That wasn’t a love confession, but was really close to it. You didn’t want to scare him or to be rejected by him, but you wanted to reassure him, soothe him and make him feel secure.

The hold you had on him was out of this world, it scared him and comforted him at the same time. He tried to stay away, to push you away… and just like a magnet he was dragged back to you. He stopped fighting a long time ago, but sometimes the life he had before, who he was before, what he suffered… all of this came back to him, and having you saying this words to him, like he was special to someone, special to you, it made him never want to let go of you. He wanted to be selfish and feel that he deserved you, and that he was all the good things you told him.

He crushed his lips on yours, one hand on the back of your head pulling you closer to him. Your hands traveled on his shoulders and arms while you kissed fervently. His hands descended to your hips, fingers brushing on the skin under your shirt. You needed more, oh, you needed way more. You rolled your hips on his, searching for some friction your core aching to feel something, anything. You could feel his voluminous hard on, earning a groan from him, this time not a painful one. He bulked his hips on yours again as you did the same with him, his hands went to your butt grabbing and squeezing it, making a moan scape your lips and go into his. His tongue fighting for dominance with your, making a mess of lips, teeth, tongue and saliva.

A growl coming from your left startled you making you separate yourself from Daryl, that for the first time was ignoring everything around him and hadn’t listen to a damn thing. One second he looked confused at you for parting from him, the other he saw you picking the crossbow that was thrown on the ground, you pulled the cord, put the arrow, aimed at the walker and next second it was on the ground, dead with an arrow on its head.

“That was hot.” He looked at you in awe. He sat up and hands still on your butt. You put the crossbow aside, your arms around his neck. “Ya saved our asses.”

“Guess, Walkers are easier than trees or… I had a pretty good teacher.” You said, a mischievous smile on your face and he couldn’t resist but give a peck on your lips.

“We need to go. It’s clearly not safe here.” He was right. Very reluctantly he let go of your butt, you got up and extended your hand to help him up.

You retrieved the arrow from the walker’s skull and cleaned it. You caught everything you had brought and put in your bags to go back to the farm. On your way back, Daryl took your hand in his, cheeks blushing and all, but he tried to pass normality.

“Yer arms hurt, don’t they?” He asked squeezing your hand a little. You never complained, but he knew that you would feel it, you were not used to this kind of exercise. Also, he saw your pained face every time you’d prepare to shoot again, he didn’t say anything because he felt like he could discourage you if he did.

“A lot.” You confessed. “How did you know?”

“Ya’re not used to it, I knew it would hurt. Also, it was all written on yer face.” He said glancing at you for some seconds. “Ya never complained, ya’re gonna be a good archer.”

“Thanks.” You couldn’t stop smiling since your training spot. That was really a good day, you learned how to use a crossbow, you had a hot make out session with the man that controlled all your thoughts and you used a crossbow to kill a walker.

“When all the shit with the group that attacked in the city is over, maybe we can find a crossbow for ya in a hunting shop or something.” He suggested and you liked the idea very much. You wanted to train more, and having a silent weapon that could shoot a long distance was a good thing. You didn’t know till when you’d have ammo.

“It sounds perfect to me.” You said taking a glance at him, the smile that you couldn’t hide all over your face and hardening you grip on his hand.

You came back to the farm, hand in hand. You left Daryl on his camp, he said soon he’d join the others to help with whatever was needed. You went back to the house almost jumping in excitement, a smile still on your lips. Rick, Lori and Carol were on the porch, talking about something.

“Guess what” you announced once you were close enough. “I’m a pro with a crossbow. Even killed a walker with it.”

“Hope you killed it with an arrow and not throwing the crossbow on it.” Rick couldn’t resist but make funny of you, it was stronger than him… it was impregnated in his big bro genes in the same way his protection was.

“Haha, very funny.” You pretended not seeing the fun on his joke. “I killed it with an arrow, ask Daryl if you don’t believe me.”

“Talking about Daryl… We all saw you holding hands on your way back. Are you now official?” Carol couldn’t contain her curiosity, it was time for you to stop pinning on each other.

“We were holding hands.” You pathetically answered not actually answering the question and just repeating what she said. What should you say? You never put names on anything and you never talked about it. It was too early too.

“Yes, we saw Y/N. But that wasn’t what Carol asked.” Lori stated. “Did something else happened?”

“Stop! Nothing happened.” You replied defensively feeling your cheeks burn and blush run on your face.

“Y/N and Daryl under a tree kissing!” Rick singsonged.

“Shut up! What are you? Ten?” You gave him a light punch on his arm.

“Are you going to help with dinner today?” Lori asked rocking in the chair.

“Yes, with anything actually. Came here to see what you needed help with. Though, I would be eternally grateful if it was something that I didn’t need to move my arms a lot, cause they are hurting badly.” You threw yourself on one of the chairs.

“I’m not gonna ask what you did, because I’m afraid…” Rick was impossible annoying that day, always picking on you.

“Try shooting with a crossbow multiple times and then talk to me Rick. Why did you decide to be jerk today?” You threw the words at him.

Rick would be lying if he said he was calm, he wasn’t. After the attack on the city, the people he killed, his pregnant wife, his traitor best friend and now having to deal with the young man they brought with them from the city… He was far from good, so playing with you, like the old times, brought a sense of normalcy, just as if life wasn’t a shit anymore.

“No reason, I just like to pick on you.” He said before leaving and messing all your hair with his hands.

Later you helped with the dinner and also with the dishes when everybody finished it. There was no way of escaping doing activities with your arms, you needed them for almost everything. You were scrubbing the dishes when you felt a presence by your side, arms brushing on yours.

“What if ya wash and I dry?” Daryl asked.

“I’d appreciate it. Also, the company makes all the difference.” You answered washing some of the plates.

“Are ya going to my tent tonight?” He asked while he dried the plates.

“Do you want me to go?” You asked, you knew he wanted. The simple act of asking you was an indicator that he expected you to go, but you couldn’t just resist and make him talk.

“Yes, I sleep better when ya’re with me.” He blushed, he couldn’t see and he hoped you didn’t see but his face was pretty much red.

“So, I’m going. I also sleep better with you.” You answered while you washed the cutlery. “Just need to take my things on my tent.”

“Take what?” He asked, what would you need besides yourself?

“I’m not sleeping in jeans everyday. I need to wear something comfortable.” You said passing him the cutlery. “Maybe is good if take my sleeping bag too, what do you think?”

“Mine can fit both of us.” He said, he felt that if you had one more sleeping bag you would sleep more distant from him. Which he knew wasn’t true, because don’t matter how you slept, you always ended up hugging him.

“Ok, your tent your rules. I get it.” You answered in defeat. “But, I’ll still pick a change of clothes.”

When you finished with the dishes you said your ‘good nights’ to whoever was still around and went to your tent picking your change of clothes. He went first to his camp while you took your things and headed there too. Lori had asked you early why didn’t you simply disassembled your barrack and moved to his, but having your own tent was a security, if you needed you had it and besides that you could store your things in it.

When you got there he was finishing organizing his things. “Ya can go in, I’m going in a minute.” He said turning to face you and went back to finish what he was doing.

You entered his tent and looked around, everything screamed Daryl, you were getting so used to it that you started to think it was a little bit yours too. You had brought your beloved sleeping shorts and a comfortable oversized t-shirt. You decided to change while Daryl didn’t come. You unbuttoned your jeans and took it of, when you were finishing taking your legs out of it, Daryl entered and he could swear he almost had a heart attack.

“Wha’ are ya doing?” He asked voice high pitched a little in the end of the sentence, glued to his spot unable to think straight, he didn’t look away, but he didn’t move too.

“Changing my clothes?” You said uncertain, but tried to maintain your cool. You mean… you had slept together, but you didn’t sleep together in all the meanings of the word, just the basic meaning. So you hadn’t seen any parts from each other that you weren’t supposed to see. On the other hand, he had his hands on your butt just a few hours ago, so…

“And ya didn’t think ‘bout giving me a heads up?” He asked, trying hard not to look at your showing legs and what he could see of your ass, and failing to do so. He couldn’t take his eyes of you and you could feel his eyes burning on your skin.

“Didn’t think I needed to, besides that you had your hands on my butt earlier today, so what’s the difference on you looking at it?” You answered nonchalantly, wearing your shorts. “See, just covered my ass, but you can still see my legs.”

You took the hem of your shirt on your fingers and lifted it up, taking it out. Daryl couldn’t take his eyes off you, you had your bra on, but could he wish you didn’t? He turned around and finished closing the zipped door, when he turned back you were already wearing your comfortable shirt. You sat on his sleeping bag and looked at him.

“Aren’t you going to change to something more comfortable to sleep?” You asked, you weren’t expecting a show but, if you received it you’d not mind. He stayed in silence averting his eyes from yours. “Are you taking care of your wounds? I can help if you want.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry. Did I pass the limits?” You said, now truly concerned that maybe you should have given him a heads up about changing your clothes. You told him before, you could go slow, but maybe Rick was right… you were jumping from a plane with no parachute.

“No, it’s just…” he tried to find the words, but it was so, so difficult to talk about his feelings. He sat by your side, a little distant from you. “I… my body… it’s…”

“I already saw it before, you know? Not when Hershel was patching you up. One time, you thought nobody was looking and changed your shirt in the middle of the camp. I was looking. It wasn’t my intention, but I couldn’t help but stare, cause you’re the most handsome man I ever saw.” You honestly told him, you went to him, hugging him from behind, your palms on his stomach and your chin resting on his right shoulder.

“You can’t be serious…” he muttered.

“I am. Every single thing that is part of you, is special for me.” You kissed his neck and he sighed. It was a little overwhelming putting so many of your feelings on the table like this in just one day, when Daryl couldn’t really express what he felt. But you couldn’t resist the urge to reassure him about everything.

He didn’t know where he got the courage from, but he took your hands from his stomach and led them to the first button of his shirt. You asked if he really wanted that, and he just nodded. One by one, you opened all his buttons and them pulled it sliding through his arms. Looking at his scars close, was totally different than when he was far, at the same time your heart ached you couldn’t help but admire him, how handsome he was and mainly the man he had become after all the shit he probably went through to have those marks on his body.

You said nothing and he was so afraid you would regret the beautiful words you told him and that now you were disgusted by him, but those worries went away when your lips touched the other side of his neck, your hands went to his arms. Soon you descended your kisses to his shoulders and you caressed his sides. He closed his eyes and tried to forget everything else, how could a precious thing like you think he was worthy? How could you make he feel whole? You kissed every scar on his back, including the new one that was going to be there from the recent wound and at which kiss you’d take a deep sigh from him.

You moved to be in front of him and sat on his lap, one leg on each side of him. He also had scars on his chest and you kissed each of them. You ran your fingers on his hair and looked at his face. He looked at your eyes and he saw pure adoration, no disgust, no pity… just admiration and respect.

“What are you going to wear? Do you have any comfortable shirt?” You, poor little thing, were worried about what he would wear, when you had just kissed all of him provoking all kinds of emotions, from the purest of them to the dirtiest one and now he didn’t even want you wearing anything.

He put his big hands on your face, with one he caressed your cheek and the other he used to brush his thumb on your bottom lip. You were mesmerized, caught in the moment and couldn’t move, you were stuck on his baby blue eyes. In all his life, he could never have guessed that he would be so lucky in the middle of a fucking apocalypse. Yes, dead people were walking around pestering the world. Yes, his brother was god knows where. And yes, he still had to fight for his life, to have food on his plate and to survive. But, knowing you was never something he thought that could happen to him and for that he felt like the luckiest bastard in the world.

He brought his lips to yours tenderly, and just then you came out of the daze you were in and closed your eyes kissing him back. You put one hand on his nape tugging a little at his hair while your fingers massaged the place, your other arm was hanging lazily on his shoulder while your hand touched his back lightly. You kissed slowly, but passionately. He took his time to appreciate your lips, his tongue caressed your lips and you opened them compassionately just waiting to feel his tongue on yours. It was so deliciously electrifying that a moan left your lips, and you had just kissed. His hands descended from your face to your shoulders and soon he was cupping your breasts eliciting another moan from you and making your hips buck earning a groan from him. Your lips parted from each other gasping from air.

“If ya want me to stop…” Daryl started to say, but you didn’t let him finish afraid that he would stop.

“Don’t. Please…” You almost begged bringing his torso the closest you could to your body.

“Good, ‘cause this is gettin’ on ma way and I don’t wan’ it on ya anymore.” He tugged your shirt up taking it from you.

He took some seconds to admire what he had in front of him, the gorgeous woman he had in his arms, before his lips went to your jawline kissing, nibbling and licking. His lips went down your neck treating it with same attention he had given to your jaw, finally finding that spot, that sweet delicious spot… You let out another moan trusting your hips on his one more time, starting to move them against him craving for some contact, to feel more than you were already feeling. Your hands were everywhere on him, his shoulders, his chest, his abdomen and gods… you really wanted to take it a little more down. You felt his increasing bulge on his pants, and it was a wonderful sensation still wearing clothes, you couldn’t even imagine how it would be to feel him skin to skin, you full of him would probably be paradise.

He descended his lips to your shoulders sliding the straps of your bra down, his hands were on your lower abdomen, grabbing, squeezing and going down. His hand got to the waistband of your shorts and as if it was nothing it slided inside your shorts stopping covering your clothed pussy. You were so wet and he hadn’t even made you cum yet. “Ya’re so wet, baby. Is that all for me?” his voice was hoarse and husky and just the act of talking close to your ear made you feel that coil sensation on your lower stomach. You whined unable to bring words to your mouth, you just wanted to continue, for him to take you there and now, but that wasn’t Daryl’s plan. He wanted to do unspeakable things with you, but everything had it’s own time and a right way of happening,

“Yes, Daryl… please gimme more.” You pleaded your voice low just as if you couldn’t breath.

“Shhh… it’s ok, baby. I got ya.” He said slipping his hand inside your panties and now running his fingers on your impossibly wet folds.

He took your lips again on his while his thumb started to caress and make pressure on your clit, making you whimper and moan. He was loving eliciting all those sweet little sounds from you and all the reactions he was causing too. How many times have he daydreamed about having you like this? You were just at his mercy and taking everything he gave you. He slipped one finger inside you and you let out a gasp with the new contact, the wonderful sensation. He moved his finger inside you while his thumb still caressed your bundle of nerves, your walls contracting on his finger.

You broke the kiss, giving him a peck on his lips and descending your lips to his neck and shoulders, while he pumped his finger in and out of you. When you find his spot he groaned, knowing you had found it you sucked it, nibbled it… you wanted him to feel as good as he was making you feel. He added another finger and continued to move, now more slowly as he felt your walls restraining his fingers. “So tight… baby, it must be heaven bein’ inside ya.” You cried out with the addition of another finger, gripping his arms firmly. The tingling sensation escalated so quickly to a new feeling you had never experienced before, a coil building in your lower stomach sending jolts of pleasure to your core making you clench around his fingers. “Oh, Daryl… I… what’s…” You couldn’t make a coherent thought or word come from your lips, you felt like you exploded not being able to control your body that shivered, shaked and clenched around Daryl.

His other arm encircled your body bringing you closer to him while you descended from your high, your face buried on his neck. “Ya did so good for me… Good girl… yes, baby…” he whispered while he caressed your back, his fingers still inside you waiting for you. “Ya good?”

“What was that?” You brought your face from his neck and looked at his face in awe. “I never felt so good.”

“I thought ya weren’t a virgin.” He looked confused, you already dated someone for years, so…?

“I’m not… but sex was just nice? Not like I was exploding and the world was falling apart around me.” You confessed, you never understood what was all the buzz about sex. Well, until now that you experienced it with Daryl, not the whole thing but…

“The son of a bitch never gave ya an orgasm?” He was incredulous, it wasn’t fair that in your whole life you had never experienced it. ‘Oh, so that’s how an orgasm should feel’, you thought. “Unbelievable.”

“C-can you do it again?” You asked shamelessly. You wanted, no, you NEEDED to feel that again.

He took his fingers from your pussy and lifted them to his mouth proving your juices, now he couldn’t help himself but imagine how it would be to have his face buried between your thighs. He hummed in approval licking your juices from his fingers. “Most delicious thin’ I ever tasted”, He kissed you again and now you could taste a bit of yourself from his mouth, and you never imagined how it would turn you on doing so. “Gonna take care of ya, but first let’s take yer shorts off. We don’t wanna do a mess on them.” He said, but by the way things were down there, he imagined it was already messy, well at least it probably wasn’t like your panties.

He helped you taking of your shorts and you sat again on his lap, your hand went to his waistband and you started to fight with his belt when his hands stopped your hands. “No, princess. Not today.” You looked at him confused, like what were you supposed to do if you didn’t take his pants off?

“Why?” You pouted without even noticing. “How are you going to relieve yourself too?”

“We dun have condoms baby.” He didn’t want to risk you getting pregnant, one baby on the way was enough for your group. Did he want desperately to have his cock inside you? Yes, he’d sell his soul for this, but in this world he needed to think with his brain even when he was thinking with his dick. “We’re gonna feel good in another way, ok?”

You just nodded, you trusted him so you knew he was telling the truth. You weren’t a virgin, but right now you felt just like one knowing nothing about sex, when in reality you did know something, you just didn’t know how pleasurable it really could be until some minutes ago.

You kissed him again sucking on his lips, both your hands on his hair, his hands on your back going down till he could feel your butt with no cloth between his hands and you. He grabbed your ass taking a moan from you that moved your hips against him, feeling his crotch on your sensitive and throbbing heat. “That’s it, baby. Move jus’ like that.” He praised you, encouraged you. His hands reluctantly left your butt and went to your back opening your bra, he finished sliding it from your arms.

“This is not fair…” you said while he cupped your breasts as you straddled him. “I’m almost naked and you’re all dressed.”

“Life’s not fair sweet thing…” he kissed your collarbone and soon his mouth was around your left nipple while his other hand played with your other one.

You couldn’t argue with him, in fact you didn’t even want to, you just wanted that he continued doing his thing and sending you to the edge. In few seconds, you were a moaning mess. Now both of you bucking your hips against each other, his lips moving to give the same attention to your other breast. His name escaped from your lips uncountable times while both of you chased your highs, the coil on you lower abdomen building every minute that passed. He already feeling like he’s going to erupt like a volcano on each trust from your hips and every little sound that came from your mouth. One of his hands tangled on your hair and the other travelled between your spine and your thigh. “Come on, baby. Like that… cum with me…” he looked in your eyes and you guided your hand between both of you until you found your clit circling it, pressing it… searching for the same explosion you felt earlier. “D… Daryl…” you whined, your walls clenching around nothing while you continued moving against him squirming from the tsunami of sensations that came from your core and spread throughout your body. Following you Daryl trusted his hips aimlessly on yours while the volcano inside him erupted consuming all of him.

He hugged you, one hand on your nape while the other was on your lower back. Panting and waiting for both of you to come down your highs. You kissed his shoulder before looking in his eyes, your hand caressing his cheek. He observed you, one of your hands still shoved between your legs, he took your pulse taking your hand from your panties and sucked your fingers to clean them from you. “Was it good for you?” You asked now both of your hand on his face, fingers drawing his cheek bones, his nose and his lips.

“More than good.” He hold both your pulses and kissed the inside of them. “What about we clean to sleep, hm?” You nodded at him. He took your shirt from the floor and helped you putting it on. “It’s getting cold, it’s better if ya cover yerself, but bras are prohibited in this tent from now on.” You couldn’t resist but giggle. He laid you down before going to his things and look for something. “Gonna change yer panties, kay? Ya can wear one of ma boxers.” He helped you out of your panties and right after it slided his boxers on you. “Now, I’m gonna change.”

You laid on your side head resting on your arm looking at him admiring the incredible man in front of you. “Am I getting a show?” You asked a naughty smile on your face.

“Nah, better not. Gotta keep some mystery for nex’ time.” He said turning his back to you and taking off his pants.

“Can I look at your cute butt at least?” You asked grinning. He didn’t even answer, just got out of his boxers letting his beautiful round cute ass on display for you, while he put on clean boxers and sweat pants. “Thanks, now I have the image of it to visualize when I’m not with you.”

He wore a shirt and laid with you on his sleeping bag, he hugged you from behind spooning you, his head on your shoulder. You hold his hand intertwining your fingers with his and getting cozy.

“In the end, I didn’t get to ask you anything.” You remembered of your deal for him to tell you something about him if you did good on your training.

“Ya can ask now.” Nuzzling at your neck.

“Why didn’t you want me to take your pants?” In fact you wanted to ask it in another way, but right at that moment you felt a little shy of asking it so bluntly.”It doesn’t count as a question.” You completed fast, before he thought you were throwing away one of your questions.

“I told ya, we dun have condoms. We can’t risk gettin’ ya pregnant.” He should have seen that coming, but well... “In case you dunno pulling out isn’t an effective contraceptive option.”

“I don’t care…” you said clearly not thinking straight he could see.

“Ya’re making no sense woman. Ya’re probably still high from yer orgasm.” He couldn’t help but snort a little at your behavior. “One baby Grimes on the way is enough.”

“Baby Dixon. If it was yours, it wouldn’t be a Grimes.” You said, and he was a little relieved you had your back to him, because he was blushing as hell at thought of impregnating you with a baby Dixon.

“Think it’s better if we sleep. We had a long day.” He tried changing the subject and fighting the urge to break the moment, to push himself away from you. He didn’t want this, but his nature, his inner voices told him to do so, and this time he wouldn’t listen to them.

“I’d carry it proudly, you know?” You said pressing your back against him, trying to be closer, but it was already impossible, since both of you were already too much close in this embrace. You took his hand that was intertwined with yours and took it to your mouth kissing the back of it. “Good night… you still owe me my questions.”

“Night, sweetheart.” He closed his eyes, hiding his face on your neck while both of you drifted to sleep.

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thetrashywritingwitch · 1 year

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“Be Still, Just for Me” Bakugo x Fem!Reader, Ch. 46

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

(all chapters are available in my masterlist!)

Summary: Bakugo Katsuki, a Pro Hero in Japan, is used to the routine: wake up, kick villain ass, rinse and repeat. He’s living his dream, soaking in all he’s ever wanted and worked for.

During the brief moment he lets his guard down, everything changes.

Tossed into a world without quirks with nothing but the clothes on his back, he’s forced to accept the help of someone who knows exactly who he is: a manga character who should definitely not exist. ---------------

Chapter length: 26k (HIGHLY recommend reading on ao3, wattpad, or quotev if you are a mobile Tumblr user and don't use Tumblr desktop because you will have a hard time with lag or app crashing trying to read this fucking long post)

Warnings: M+ for language, Katsuki-typical threats of violence, mentions of panic attack, sexual content (nothing super explicit)

Reminder that the A03, Wattpad, and Quotev links will be in a reblog so this post shows up in search results! They’re also in my profile header! <3

Co-written and plot mapped by @rose-sparks13

thanks to all my beta readers!!! @birinboom

@bananabossbitch, @dellappatca and @jems-all-in-a-wood and a few others who prefer to remain anonymous. NOTE: please ignore and forgive anytime i might’ve misspelled “Yaoyorozu” because I'll never learn how to spell her name correctly

Chapter Title: The Night We Met, Part II

_____________________________

The celebration on the other side of the outside garden grew quiet and eventually vanished as though muffled by a growing mound of indiscernible cotton. Bushes and creeping vines paused their benign swaying. As the world surrounding Katsuki gradually came to a halt, its energy seemed to seep into his bones and beneath his skin, buzzing and oscillating tortuously.

This isn’t real, he thought in desperation as his mouth went dry, eyes bulged, and chest tightened in disbelief. There, barely three meters away from him, stood a ghost shivering under the moonlight in a dress the deep red color of blood. Katsuki blinked, expecting you to vanish like you always did… yet you remained statue-still and staring stunned right back at him.

The glass in his hand slipped out of his trembling fingers, clattering onto the floor. Neither of you flinched as ice and alcohol stained the wood grain underfoot.

He remembered waking up this morning. Going on patrol with Mar. Arguing with Kirishima in the agency hallway. Feeding his cat. Riding his bike over here for his stupid birthday party… No, there was no way that the entire day's events and memories could have been more than an illusory dream.

…Then what kind of sick trick caused a hallucination of you to appear before Katsuki as if taunting him ceaselessly for six months wasn’t enough?

Voice hoarse, arid, and strained, he attempted to speak as if hearing his own voice might jolt him out of this mirage. “Are you a nightmare?”

Could you hear him? Would you answer? No, of course not. You never did; spirits couldn’t speak.

You winced at his words, his voice uncharacteristically brittle compared to the strong, unwavering tenor you were used to, the sound you dreamed of hearing just one more time. All you wanted to do was run to him and bury your face in his skin and bathe in his warmth and sob in his arms. But cinder blocks tied your feet to the ground. He looked almost scared, as if reaching out to touch him would splinter the tension and he’d crack beneath your fingertips; the fear and anxiety kept you immobile as the device in your shaking hands translated his words.

Peeling your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you dared not blink as you managed to weakly shake your head in denial. “No, Katsuki… I’m not.”

More than anything you wanted to capture him, hold onto him, keep him close like a fragile treasure, but tension hung like tepid puddles after a thick rain - the kind that filled your nose and lungs with stale air and upended rot. Don’t cry, don’t cry yet. If you do, you’ll never stop. “W-why a nightmare?”

A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck and disappeared into the collar of his pressed shirt. He quickly glanced at your hands gripped tightly around the device that somehow far exceeded the accuracy of your phone with its robotic Japanese inflection. But… your voice. It pierced between his ribs like a spear aimed with deadly accuracy to strike with poisonous memories dripping from the sharpened edge.

Commemorating you through the keepsakes was easy; everything observed months ago, he saw again behind closed eyes or whenever he took out his hidden gifts when waves of longing nostalgia washed over him. However, sight was just a single sense out of five. The language barrier became less noticeable and cumbersome over time as he focused on the tone and inflection of your voice. Though your singing and laughter stuck with him, Katsuki lamented that they became harder to recall with every passing day.

Dreams were satisfying and light, or comically nonsensical. The ones with you always began happily enough, and often alluded to memories he fought to remember and forget and remember and forget in a never ending cycle. But when morning came and Katsuki awoke, he knew that none of it was real and would never be real again; it might as well have been a nightmare. A looping display that haunted and taunted him knowing all that really remained of you, was just in his imagination.

Waiting for you to disappear just as he had six months prior, Katsuki stood staring, unmoving despite the wretched hum screaming under his skin.

“Because,” he started, “I always wake up."

Not understanding the connection between you and nightmares, you managed to force your feet to move a single step towards him. "I… no. Katsuki, I'm not a dream or nightmare or anything imaginary. I… I'm real and I'm here and-"

"You're not supposed to be here," he abruptly interrupted. The shock written across his face slowly morphed into that familiar grimace of frustration he wore like a shield.

Your fear of rejection seemed like it might come true.

Back inside the house, a line of people with their ears pressed up against the wall stood tense and impatient while those who had no fucking clue what was happening lingered in confusion.

Kirishima went first, trying to see if he could hear the conversation happening outside with his face smooshed against the off-white wall. He needed to know if all their planning would actually pay off or if Bakugo was going to somehow blow his second chance at love. Midoriya followed right behind him and Kaminari, hating feeling left out, did the same even though he was only halfway in the know.

"Jirooooouuuuu, pleeeeease? This is actually super important!" Ashido's black eyes glistened as she begged Jirou to use her earphone jacks to listen to the tense conversation happening on the other side of the sliding door.

Raising an eyebrow, Jirou said, "I don't even know what's going on? Who was that lady that went outside?"

However, Yaoyorozu came up behind her girlfriend and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don't have to do as she says, Kyoka. It isn't really our story to tell; that's up to Bakugo-san. The conversation happening outside is private and we shouldn't eavesdrop.”

Ashido pursed her lips and huffed. "Spoilsport. I know you're just as curious as the rest of us," she claimed before marching over to the wall and lining herself up with the others.

Deflating, Momo nibbled on her bottom lip as she stared at her friends’ backs. It was true - she did want to know what was happening between you and Bakugo, especially after seeing with her own eyes how much you cared about him and all the trouble the others went through to get you here in the first place. A gentle, familiar hand on hers eased Momo’s worry as Kyoka met her eyes.

“I definitely wanna know what’s going on because I’m so lost… but if you say it’s not our business, then I’ll just wait for you to tell me later,” she conceded with a knowing smile.

“It… is a very interesting story, that’s for sure.”

Towards the back of the room, Sero stood next to Todoroki who loudly sipped from his cup while Uraraka worriedly twisted the hem of her shirt in her hands on his other side. “Hey dude, you know what’s goin’ on? Is this all part of the party…?”

If it were anyone else, the ice in his cup would’ve melted into shards by now, but Todoroki held it in his left hand, a fine mist of frost keeping the mostly-empty cup perfectly chilled. “Yeah. Sort of. I’m just going to watch and see what happens. Uraraka, you shouldn’t worry, especially when you’re pregnant. I think Bakugo will be fine.”

Uraraka let the breath she was holding tumble out while absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. “I know, I know. He’s just so bullheaded sometimes; I don’t want Bakugo-kun to do something else he’ll regret…”

Off in a far corner of the main living space, the remaining guests - Shinsou, Tokoyami, and Camie - lingered around the speakers and the snack table, all just equally as confused about what was happening, both inside and outside.

“Should we-“

“Nope.”

“… Yes, it's probably for the best.” Tokoyami closed his eyes in agreement within Shinsou, but peeked his left one open after a moment when he heard Camie giggle. "And can you tell me why you're so enamored with Dark Shadow?"

The sentient shadow attached to Tokiyami was laughing, too, while Camie was trying to feed it a snack. "Huh? It's like, kinda cute, ya know? Like one of those little pocket monster things except like, real and stuff. Does it like brownies?" Although she had a high alcohol tolerance, it was obvious the spiked juice was beginning to affect her much to Dark Shadow's amusement.

While party guests bickered or wrung their hands together with worry, your staring contest with Katsuki wore on. Confusion, tension, and agitation evident in his posture rolled off him like mist. You told Uraraka that keeping their plan a secret probably wouldn't end well, and you hoped she had convinced her other cohorts to come clean… but they didn't, and now you were paying the price.

Opening your mouth, you tried to find the words to assuage his frustration and save the night from total ruin and heartbreak. "I… Katsuki, I know I'm not supposed to be here. That we both knew that when you left, that was it. That would be the end." Although you tried to keep your voice even and strong, it cracked like brittle china faced with an angry bull ready to charge. "Your friends… Uraraka and Kirishima and some others found a way to bring me here. They wanted… they thought you might want to see me again… I wanted to see you again."

This wasn't right. None of it was right. He'd ached and wallowed in his own pathetic misery for months before finally managing to get a hold of himself and return to a life of relative normalcy and routine. Coming to terms with the brutal truth of his inability to just be fucking honest with himself, with you, was just as exhausting and difficult as any big villain he'd faced.

It had to be some screwed up joke to cement him in the past he'd fought to leave behind. That's what you would've wanted. That's what Katsuki wanted. Right?

But for the first time, you answered him. You didn't just fade away like every other instance. You claimed his friends helped you get here, but that just shoved more questions into his sweaty, trembling hands.

Maybe this really was a nightmare… or possibly some elaborate illusion based on his knowledge and memories to leave him fumbling and vulnerable. Only the two of you stood outside, but for all he knew someone unseen could be pulling the strings with Black Hole as the resurrected puppet master.

She'd wanted him to suffer, after all.

The sad, worried look in your eyes, however… did he trust his own senses that rarely led him astray, or was there a way to know if you were truly who you claimed to be? She isn’t. She couldn’t be.

Unsure of what to do because his so-called friends left you on your own rather than explain to Katsuki what the hell was happening and why, you began to step closer to him, but stopped when he interrupted.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Hearing Katsuki so uncharacteristically wary reminded you dismally of his first few days in your home: distrustful, tense, and exasperated. After everything the two of you experienced together, it hurt. Oh, it stung bitterly. “Tell me something only the real (y/n) would know. Something no one else would know.”

Frowning, you should’ve expected something like this. Rather than come here and be welcomed warmly by the man you fell in love with months ago, you were forced to prove you were really who you claimed to be through some time-wasting test. If by some miracle this actually worked and Katsuki eventually believed you, Midoriya and the others were going to catch a nasty earful for making this already stressful situation so much harder than it needed to be.

Ignoring that impending argument for now, you focused on remembering everything only privy to you and Katsuki. While you had no idea exactly what he’d revealed to his friends about his time with you, it didn’t really matter; you knew Katsuki in the most intimate of ways; convincing him was - hopefully - only a matter of choosing something that struck a sensitive chord.

The bear incident was too grandiose and at least a handful of other people knew about it. You recalled the flowers you’d managed to keep alive in your apartment, but you’d told Uraraka where they came from. While the karaoke date was something you’d never forget, it didn’t strike you as the correct choice, either. The amusement park, scheduling his haircut, running into your ex… All of these flashbacks resembled down-facing cards spread out on a table with your hand hovering between them. Every card except one meant permanent defeat.

Then, it hit you. Something you were positive he kept to himself considering he almost didn't admit it to you at all; and Katsuki gave you a hint without even realizing.

"The nightmare," you blurted out as if worried an invisible timer would run out and yank you back into your own world at the ringing of a jarring game show buzzer. Katsuki's brows furrowed, his face still written with apprehension, but you continued. "I don't remember the exact day… but I remember waking up in the middle of the night. You were sitting up next to me and I could tell something was wrong… I just… held you and hoped I was giving you some comfort. Like you helped me after the whole bear incident. I didn't know until the next day that you had a nightmare…"

He remembered. Whenever painful memories tortured him while he slept, Katsuki always remembered, even if he'd much rather forget. It was the first and only time someone had been there when he awoke in a cold sweat with visions of failure and blood far too vibrant whenever he closed his eyes.

And he'd never told anyone else about it.

Back inside the house, it felt like an hour as time and tension serenaded each other despite only a few minutes passing. More people had joined in the group pressed against the wall trying to overhear what was happening outside.

"It's too quiet; I feel like he's blowing it." Kirishima groaned at the thought of his best friend making the same dumb mistake twice which, for someone like Bakugo Katsuki who prioritized a perfect victory every single time, was unheard of.

Bored after doing nothing for all of thirty seconds, Kaminari had left his place against the wall and was currently leaning on Shinsou's shoulder who played off the close contact like it was no big deal despite having a spike of internal bisexual panic.

"C'moooon guys! Just go outside and tell him he's being dumb or something-"

"You do it then," Todoroki suggested nonchalantly.

Grimacing, Kaminari shook his head and latched onto Shinsou's arm. "If this was less serious, then, yeah, maybe! I don't wanna piss him off again; especially on his birthday."

Shinsou still wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but distinctly remembered Bakugo's embarrassing outburst at the bar months ago. He couldn't really blame Kaminari for his avoidance of a potential repeat. "Can someone at least tell me what all this drama is about? Ignoring it is getting tough with everyone acting weird and I'm too sober to tune it out."

"It's… a long story, Shinsou-kun," Midoriya answered as he rubbed the back of his neck and stood next to Uraraka. "Depending on what happens tonight, maybe Kacchan can tell you himself in his own words."

And judging by the strained and hushed conversation happening in the garden things were not exactly going how they all expected.

The silence between you stretched on far too long for comfort after you answered Katsuki's demand. What else were you supposed to do when all of this apparently rested on your shoulders alone?

"If… if you really don't believe me or actually want me here… then I'm not going to keep trying to convince y-you." The last word came out as more of a whimper, your throat swelling with strain as you fought back bursting into tears on the spot. All those months of waiting… just to have your heart crushed all over again because of his fucking bullheadedness. I was so stupid to think this was a good idea…

It took a monumental effort to take a step back from him when all you wished for was to be as close as you used to be. Just for a while. Just for tonight.

As you began to swivel on your heel, pain evident in your glassy eyes and stammering speech, an image he'd hoped to forget sprang forward like a memory resurfaced from the drowned, dark depths.

That awful day culminated into a horrible night as Katsuki watched you cry and scream before disappearing out the door in a whirlwind of his own doing. He hadn't stopped you then, too stunned to react as you spat his own words right back in his face. The fear and guilt attempting to swallow him back then… it all could've ended so much worse.

But you took him back. He didn't deserve it, but you did anyway. You allowed his effort at making amends with barely any time left to see the fruits of his redemption begin to ripen into something sweet and filling.

If this were real… if you were real, there was no way in hell he'd make the same mistake twice. Letting you walk away once was difficult enough, but if Katsuki stood by and accepted watching you disappear, then he deserved whatever sisyphean punishment fate shackled to him for the remainder of his days; but you didn't.

As if Medusa's paralyzing grip on him suddenly vanished, Katsuki lurched forward, his hand outstretched in desperation to keep this illusion from slipping through his fingers. And true enough, he was surprised to find that he didn't phase through your wrist.

Warmth. Soft skin. Racing pulse. He felt it all through his hardened calluses. "Wait… please."

The sudden grip on your arm tugged your shoulder back, but turning around to face him after resigning that this once in a lifetime opportunity ended in rejection was too much. Pressure behind your eyes swelled as you continued to fight off crumpling in a crying heap on the ground when he asked - no, pleaded - for you to stay.

Just like before… Except this time, Katsuki didn't let you run away. You stared at a vine crawling up the side of the house while trying to avoid focusing on the familiar warmth of his hand, the strength of his grip, and even the damp sweat slowly soaking into your skin. But he felt unsteady, something Katsuki never was, his fingers shivering as if freezing despite the comfortable warmth outside.

So, two distrustful people waited for proof that this second chance would not slip away, one desperate for truth while the other pleaded for patience. All you had to do was turn around and face him. And you did.

To anyone that didn’t know him, Katsuki looked exactly like you remember him. His ash-blonde hair. Those damn eyes of his that caught light like rubies. The sharp, strong jaw that framed his sharper tongue. The past six months apart just melted away as aching familiarity came bursting through the door. But, just like when he found you at the park, his face and body language betrayed his normal composure: unsure, shaken, disbelieving, desperate… everything you also felt and knew he was seeing mirrored right back.

Without tearing his eyes away, Katsuki reluctantly let your wrist fall from his hand before cupping your face with his sweaty palms. Warm. They didn’t pass through. He was close enough to smell some faint but recognizable aroma that he’d forgotten with time. Your perfume. Only detectable when you were close enough to touch. You looked like you wanted to cry.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on… but I don’t really care.” Logic and reason be damned on his birthday; if you hadn’t disappeared by this point, then he wasn’t going to waste his time fighting against it anymore. “If you’re really here, then- hell even if you’re not, just listen to what I have to say.”

No repeated mistakes.

“I don’t have a lot of regrets in life. I’m doing exactly what I set out to do since I was a bratty kid. And even though I’ve screwed up a lot, I’ve tried to pinpoint those flaws and fix ‘em.” You’ve rehearsed this a thousand times. “But I made a huge fucking mistake months ago, and I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to live with it while knowing I couldn’t make it right.”

No more hiding.

You knew him too well. He wished he hated that about you - how you managed to find shelter in his exposed remains after peeling through layers he didn’t even know existed - but he didn’t.

Words gummed up his throat when the simplest answer was right here. With his clammy hands still preciously cupping your face, Katsuki leaned his forehead against yours and felt your shaky breath on his lips.

The kiss was real. You didn’t disappear. Just…

“(Y/n)… Aishiteru.”

Barely audible. Fiercely soft. Perfectly understood. Your lip quivered and eyes screwed shut as the buildup finally overflowed. Katsuki returned your love even now, and nothing else was going to keep you apart tonight.

The translator device bounced across the ground as you lurched forward and draped your arms around his neck, clinging to his hair, shirt, skin, anything you could reach, terrified of letting him go again. Choking out a guttural sob muffled by his shoulder, your body went limp as the compounding burdens of the day finally disappeared. You didn’t have to hold yourself up anymore; Katsuki was there to support you.

The sudden noise outside caused Uraraka to chance a peek around the corner to make sure she didn’t need to break up any unfortunate disasters, but whipped back around quickly when she saw the two of you in a tender and intimate embrace on the ground. “Ooh! You g- ow!”

Ashido had come up right behind her to also eavesdrop and earned them both potential head bruises as a result. “Owwww, sorry, sorry! What’s happening?!”

Ignoring the pain, Uraraka yelled and whispered simultaneously that you and Katsuki were kissing.

“Ohmygod, really?!”

“YES!”

Kirishima and the others nearby heard this and broke out of their hiding spots against the wall to celebrate their hard-won victory. Kirishima threw a fist in the air, Midoriya slumped against the wall with flooded eyes, and Todoroki nodded in approval with a sincere smile.

At this point, most of the other guests had wandered into other rooms of the house to enjoy a party with an absent birthday boy, though a few remained behind to observe the inevitable end of this secretive drama.

“… And then he said they went to karaoke I think, so- oh, are they done now?” Kaminari turned towards the back door to see his friends were no longer acting all sad and weird.

“Keep going.” Shinsou tugged at Kaminari’s shirt collar to pull his attention back to him. The alcohol was making him stupid and bold and the blonde extra attractive. “It was just getting good.”

Cocking his head to the side, Kaminari smirked with half-lidded eyes. “Yes, sir, whatever you say.”

The noisy guests indoors barely registered as you let Katsuki hold you. He kept your relief grounded while you tried and failed to stop crying. His warm, shaky breath on your neck and his arms tangled around your chest reminded you of the final embrace on your couch before he vanished and left you pressed against nothing but air. Only this time, you didn't have the last word; and oh, the bursting elation building in your chest at his words was altogether cathartic.

He loves me. It's not unrequited.

Telling the truth never felt so fucking rewarding as it did right then. The reality that none of this made one iota of sense left his mind completely as he buried his face in your skin as his eyes and throat ached with pressure. He saw you, felt you, smelled you, tasted you, every tiny thing he'd craved for six goddamn months.

"Moushi wake nai," he mumbled while turning his head to see messy tear tracks on your cheek that he gently tried to wipe away.

Sorry for being a coward.

"Moushi wake nai…" He pressed chapped lips to your jaw and tasted salt.

Sorry for leaving you unanswered.

"Moushi wake nai." Your noses brushed as you sniffled, meeting his glassy gaze briefly with bloodshot eyes before properly returning his kiss, albeit weakly as though your energy and strength was completely spent.

Sorry for making you cry again.

“Aishiteru,” you echoed before kissing him again as if the words themselves reinvigorated you. Hearing it again in your own voice and inflection and accent rather than the embarrassing imitation from his dreams left Katsuki nearly breathless before you shifted in his lap, gripped the collar of his shirt, hands trembling, and glared at him with adoration and frustration in equal measure. Fuck, you were beautiful.

“Baka ńe,” you bit out, your voice squeaking at the end from strain despite trying your best to rightfully insult him after six months of holding it in. All Katsuki could do was stare dumbfounded with lips parted in a foggy haze before you yanked him forward like old times’ sake to try and kiss some sense back into him, but you didn’t have to; he would’ve met you halfway. Would’ve fought off a hundred bears to hear you call him stupid every fucking day for the rest of his life.

God, you’d shared many kisses over those last few weeks - some soft, some sloppy, some heart-poundingly passionate - but none of them compared to the satisfaction billowing through him right then. Or maybe it had something to do with the six months he survived on nothing but his own memories. Maybe they were all equally important in their own ways and trying to weigh one over the other was beyond pointless. Didn’t matter. Reveling in the desperation, his mouth chasing you like a starved man presented with a mouth-watering buffet, was more than satisfying.

Alcohol, fire, and musky cologne. One second you were crying on Katsuki’s shoulder and the next his skin was marked with red trails left by your nails under his shirt collar while you knelt between his legs and a hand slithered under the hem of your dress to grip your thigh. The way your heart raced as your tongues fought for dominance made you forget about wanting to headbutt him for being an emotionally-constipated dumbass.

This was like the real life version of those stupid Hallmark-esque movies with the tragically separated couple spotting each other from across an airport terminal, running through a bustling crowd, and leaping into each other’s arms in the middle with ear-to-ear grins. Except they never fucked in those movies, and if you weren’t in Uraraka’s backyard with Katsuki’s main friend group inside, then the Hallmark channel would’ve absolutely deemed this heated encounter inappropriate for their prudish audience.

However, Katsuki seemed absolutely unbothered by potential voyeurism as he practically growled in your mouth and pulled you flush against him as if daring any higher powers watching to rip him away from you again.

Straddling his lap, you reluctantly pulled away causing him to practically whine while trying to keep you right where he wanted you. But there were things you needed to explain and answers he no doubt wanted judging from the disbelieving comments and interrogation just minutes before. Smothering his mouth with one of your palms, you managed to keep him steady while wiping at your eyes that were still damp from the emotional deluge.

You sat back on your heels and looked from side to side before spotting the translator you’d dropped. Leaning over to grab it across one of Katsuki’s legs, you really hoped it wasn’t busted from the couple of new scratches on the screen and one of the corners. “Shit…”

Huffing through his nose at you interrupting your own makeout session, Katsuki took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. As he pulled your hand away from his face, he glanced up just in time to see familiar red hair and eyes peeking around the corner of the back door before quickly retreating back inside after being caught peeping. Only a small part of him was embarrassed, though. If he could finally tell you that he loved you and apologize for his past faults, then dealing with PDA witnesses was a walk in the park by comparison.

He saw you fiddling with the device in your hand before slipping his fingers between yours and pressing a tender kiss to your palm, resting it against his cheek. Grounding. Warm. Real. The longing ache that had weighed him down for months seemed to vanish at your touch. Zoning out for a second, still pushing away all of the questions he had about how all of this happened, you kissed his other cheek before resting your forehead against his and stared lovingly into his eyes.

If he said it once, he could say it again. So he did. Telling you he loved you was easier the second time, but no less impactful as you bit your lip and smiled sheepishly but oh so earnest and bright. Enough to rival those park fireworks. To put them to shame. He couldn’t help but smile, too.

Feeling tired of sitting on the hard ground, Katsuki stood up and brushed dirt off the back of his pants before extending a hand to help you up, too.

“C’mon… Please don’t be broken. Does this thing still work?” He watched you press a few buttons on the thing in your hand while The same voice from before came through just fine and you let out a relieved sigh. Right as you turned back to him, Katsuki grabbed your chin and stared down into your eyes before glancing at the device.

“Tell me again for my own sanity that this isn’t a dream or illusion or anything, because that kiss seemed real as hell to me, and if it wasn’t, then I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

The tension dropped along with your shoulders as you pulled his hand away, but didn’t let go. “Yes, Katsuki. I really am here, just like I said. None of this is fake or anything. You can thank your friends for setting all of this up, but also blame them for not telling you I was coming in the first place.”

OK. Alright. So he wasn’t crazy after all. Now that he’d had a minute to readjust and most of the shock had finally worn off, your answer sealed the deal. His gut instinct to protect himself through vehement denial of the unbelievable twisted in opposition, but he forced himself to ignore the discomfort.

Then it hit him and he scowled while running his free hand down his face.

“Those fuckers,” he cursed, eyeing the now-closed door that led back into the house. “I knew Todoroki wasn’t telling me everything! Who all is in on it? Who do I-“

Before his annoyance levels rose too high, you shut him up with a simple gesture that he rejected from just about everyone else: a hug. You tugged on his hand and pressed against him like a shield. God, he missed this, just burying his nose in your hair and shutting his eyes to savor feeling close and wanted.

"I don't want you to fight on your birthday," you said. "Oh, right. Happy birthday, Katsuki."

"They started it," he retorted, his eyes still closed as his hands came up to wrap around your waist. "Mm. Are you my gift?"

Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew he was smiling. "If you want me to be, then yes." Although him calling you a gift was sweet in its own way, it reminded you sorely of his friends back inside and how they seemed to pass you around from one person to the next. You were a person, not a present, and chose to come here of your own volition.

"Katsuki," you said, gripping his hand tighter in your own. It was heavenly being able to say his name and actually hear him answer you, again. "Why didn't you tell me back then?"

He knew what you meant without explanation and you swore you felt the pace of his heartbeat quicken through his chest. "I was stupid. I didn't think things would go the way they did, that we'd keep growing closer, and by the time I realized what I was feeling, I didn't know what to do. It…" Katsuki hesitated and you squeezed his hand reassuringly to keep going. "It scared me. I'd never been in love before, especially not to someone I couldn't be with in the end. I could always train and learn and evolve to prepare for whatever the future held as a Hero… but I wasn't prepared for you."

Your breath hitched as he revealed insecurities you knew were difficult to explain. Of all the things that could scare someone like Katsuki… but thinking back to everything that happened during those last few days together, it all made sense.

"I was a coward," he stated bluntly. You knew he was frowning just from his tone. "I was angry. Back on the ferris wheel, I knew. It hit me and I knew. I was happy and you were beautiful and I just…"

"...You panicked." Finishing his thought for him, all the pieces finally clicked together. Katsuki didn't want to leave and you didn't want him to leave, but there was nothing either of you could do about it. Fighting against the unbeatable and coming out on top was something Katsuki excelled at. Something he couldn't overcome… no wonder he lashed out. "You dummy." The annoyingly familiar pressure began building behind your eyes again. "It's OK to be scared or unsure of things. Talking it out can help, though. You're supposed to be smart…" The weak laugh at your own words hopefully obscured him from hearing you sniffle.

His lips and warm breath caressed your forehead; the tiniest gesture was going to make you cry again from how much you missed it, missed him. "I know that now. And I won't make the same mistake again."

I know you won't… because my time here is limited. But you refused to think about going back home without him, not when you had so much catching up to do. "You know, I was going to tell you I loved you back on the ferris wheel. I'd known for a while how I felt… but was waiting for the right moment. It was so cliché and romantic… then all the drama happened and I didn't want to make things worse with just one day left." You loosened your arm wrapped around his chest to look up at him; even under the pale moonlight, his eyes glistened like the beautiful red rubies you remembered. "So I waited until the last possible moment. I guess I was a coward, too."

Back then, he knew. It was noticeable from the way you looked at him fondly with a coy smile that was just for show but also completely earnest. How you reached for him without hesitation. The darkness in the ferris wheel carriage couldn’t obscure what he saw backlit by city lights and fireworks. Katsuki knew, and he’d chosen to run instead.

“Don’t,” he warned while shaking his head and holding his ground to stare down what he was so terrified of seeing six months ago. “I ran from my problems even though I would’ve called out anyone else for the same thing. There’s way more to strength and resolve than just how hard you can punch or how much you can take before going down. You did what I couldn’t.” He wasn’t afraid of your truth, anymore, nor his own. “So you better not call yourself a coward while I’m around, got it, Clumsy-chan?”

Your eyes widened and brows rose while the corners of his lips tugged into a grin. “Really? Even now, you’re stuck on that nickname?” The way you smiled through your words gave you away.

“I’ve changed, but not that much. You’re stuck with it unless I find one I think suits you better.” He felt you attempt to tug your hand free from his pitiful rebellion, but his hands and arms were far stronger than the average person’s; it was a fight you’d never win, but the outcome wasn’t the point, anyway.

Only now with most of his brain fog finally gone did he finally take in your appearance. Your hair was styled in an unfamiliar way, but it more than suited you. Matching earrings and a necklace that sparkled from the backyard light attached to the house. Smeared makeup circled your eyes, but Katsuki didn’t give a damn about that. And the rest…

Blinking in realization, he stepped back - hand never leaving yours - to look at the whole package. Confusion written on your face, he answered you before you had a chance to ask what the hell he was doing. “You’re wearing the red dress.”

Yeah, he’d been right: you did look good in it. Brain dead idiot of an ex-boyfriend had as much taste as he did sense when he said it didn’t suit you. Red was always a striking color and stood out among a crowd, but you wore it well. When you realized exactly why he was staring, your posture shifted as if trying to appear more flattering to him than you already did.

“Oh… yeah, I am. I mean, I’d only worn it once before… and I wanted to look nice for tonight. I thought about what you said about not letting anyone else decide what I should or shouldn’t do or wear. I'm guessing it was a good choice, then?" You managed a slow twirl in the uwabaki that didn't match your dress at all, the fabric flowing out from your thighs before settling back down as you stopped to face him expectantly.

Deku's house slippers and tear-stained makeup be damned. Katsuki yanked you back towards him with little effort, catching you with an arm securely around your waist as he leaned down and caught you in a surprise kiss. The tiny squeak you let out had him smiling as you pressed against his chest and stood on your tiptoes to try and gain back some leverage, but he pulled away before you ensnared him in a willing trap.

"You don't just look nice." The desiring glint in your eyes shifted to perplexed, but he was ready this time. "You look fucking beautiful. No extra can compare." No repeat of the "what the fuck are you wearing?" situation.

His lack of hesitation in complimenting you must've come as a mild shock judging from the bashful way you tried to hide your smile, lips sucked in between your teeth; that, or you were still bashful about his praise. "Thank you… have you been practicing flirting this whole time Mr. I'm Bad With Words?"

This back and forth banter was yet another thing he desperately missed; it was the small, prosaic interactions rather than grandiose displays that stuck with him the most. "No, but I've had six months to consider things I wish I'd said or done. I don't hold back with anything else, and this - you - shouldn't be an exception."

"Glad you finally learned your lesson on that one," you concurred before leaning back and drinking him in from head to toe. "You clean up nicely, yourself. I'd almost forgotten you had other clothes besides black tank tops and jeans." Humming to yourself, you traced your fingertips lightly across the stiff collar of his shirt before trailing down his bicep. Touch-starved for close contact and affection, the small but sensual movement sent goosebumps across his skin. "Hmm, yes… very handsome, indeed. I like the jewelry, too. And… are you wearing eyeliner?"

While you and Katsuki traded words, a small group had formed behind Jirou who had her earphone jack pressed up against the wall separating them from their friend outside. After Kirishima got caught peeking around the corner, even Jirou couldn’t hold back her curiosity as to what was going on after piecing together a rough idea through the whispered discussion of her friends.

However, it didn’t take long before her cheeks flushed and she quickly turned to disappear towards the snack table. “O-okay, their flirting really isn’t our business-“

“Flirting?! No way… but I guess he must have some game if he managed to get a girlfriend…” Ashido pondered mischievously about what in the world Bakugo’s flirting would entail as Jirou reached for her girlfriend’s hand.

Yaoyozoru sighed. “I warned you, dear…”

“But you totally wanted to know, too!”

Her free hand flew to her cheek in exaggerated shame. “Oh, I know I did! I just wanted to see how Bakugo-san and Y/N-san were doing… but eavesdropping isn’t the answer. How impolite of me…”

Midoriya stood between Todoroki and Kirishima who all glanced sidelong at each other. “Do you think they’ll come back in, eventually?”

“I would think so, Todoroki-kun. They have a lot to catch up on. At least nothing bad happened…” His relieved chuckle contrasted with Kirishima’s annoyed groan.

“Yeah, I mean I get that, but we still planned this whole party thing, y’know? And you still have Sato’s cake to bring out!”

Humming to himself, Todoroki pondered while Midoriya and Kirishima talked about cake. "But… I doubt staying at the party means more than spending quality time with his true love."

The line made Kirishima snort. "Sounds so cheesy saying it like that, especially for someone like Bakugo, but it's also super manly to love who you love without caring what anyone else thinks! I mean, I'm not gonna cockblock my best bro-"

"K-Kirishima-kun!" Even now as a married man with a kid on the way, Midoriya never fully overcame talking publicly about anything even mildly salacious. Searching around frantically before spotting Ochako, he decided it was the perfect time to check on his wife who was eating mochi while giggling at Dark Shadow acting like a puppy while Camie remained fixated on treating it as such. "They'll come inside when they want to and wecanhavecakethen!!"

The redhead laughed. “I guess he’ll never outgrow talking about embarrassing stuff… but man, am I glad Bakugo didn’t totally blow it with… you alright, Todoroki?”

Still deep in thought over inconsequential details, he said, “I suppose with your quirk, you would be the best at cockblocking… like a shield…” He only came out of his trance when Kirishima doubled over with laughter.

Calming relief replaced anxious uncertainty both inside and outside, although the current tempo of Katsuki’s heart begged to disagree.

“... Can’t believe I almost blew it.”

Rather than stand around fawning over each other, you and Katsuki sat on a swinging porch bench situated at the furthest corner at the back of the house. You tried not to gush too much when you recognized that the earrings he wore were eerily similar to the Fantasy AU art that everyone always fawned over. They suited him well alongside the thin chain of silver around his neck and expensive-looking watch on his wrist.

It was evident he’d picked up a few pointers from his fashion designer parents when he had more to choose from than t-shirts and tank tops.

You had finally noticed his hearing aid, as well as the newly-healed scar on his left ear. He'd reassured you that he was fine and the hearing aid was more of a safety net than necessity. It was only a matter of time before his quirk affected his hearing, but something like this would never keep Katsuki down.

“Hm? Blew what?” You leaned against Katsuki's side while he gently rocked the swing with the heel of his foot and stretched his arms across the back of the sun-bleached wood.

Without glancing your way, he said, "I almost let you run. Half a year trying to move on and find some normalcy in my routine again. Come to terms with everything. My own mistakes. I didn't think it would be as hard as it was."

"Relationships aren't easy," you reassured. "Especially breakups… including ones that have to happen even if no one wants them to. It was hard for me, too." Katsuki pressed his cheek to the top of your head. The weight was grounding. "Like… a piece of me was missing, and time and distractions just didn't make it go away. I mean, if I was fully over you, then I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Katsuki remained silent as he continued to rock the bench back and forth. He knew why moving on was so difficult, thinking back to the pathetic state of self-wallowing he turned into after visiting Tartarus. Her second quirk… so, it affected both of you, then. You attributed it to intense heartbreak; and yes, while that definitely factored into it, Black Hole’s quirk complicated everything tenfold.

Should I tell her…? Katsuki wasn’t so sure it was something you needed to know, at least not yet.

“After months of trying to accept the mistakes I couldn’t fix and move forward with my life, you step back into it. If you were really here, then all that work I did would've vanished. Like I was back at square one, like your memory was taunting me. So, I almost let you run… but even if it seemed impossible that you were here, I didn’t want to let that chance slip away.”

You couldn’t help but frown at his words. “I told them to tell you what they were planning. Good intentions but stupid execution…”

Katsuki moved away so he could turn to face you, his expression sincere and his eyes sharp. “How long have you known about this whole thing? How long have they been planning it? How did you even get here?”

Ah, right… you knew he’d want to know the logistics of everything considering how this all came out as a literal birthday surprise. Sighing, you fiddled with the translator in your lap and hesitantly looked up at Katsuki. “I… you know how I said I didn’t want you to be upset on your birthday?”

“I’m not mad at you. It’s not like you could’ve told me what was going on, anyway.”

You shook your head. “No, I know that. What I mean is, you’re probably going to be upset at your friends, whether it’s me that tells you or them… “ Starting a yelling match between Katsuki and his friends seemed like an awful way to get on the good side of the people he was closest to, but he’d make them fess up either way. “I know I’m technically in the middle of all this, but I don’t… shit. Am I making any sense?”

“I see.” Why did it sound so ominous coming from him? "You don't have to tell me. But I'd rather know everything now while we're all together. If you say I'll be mad, then you're probably right. But I doubt anything they say will make you being here not worth it. They can't ruin that." The soft intensity he gave off was just as flustering now as it was back in your apartment. "And I'll try really fucking hard not to yell…" He hesitated before sighing and holding up his pinky, albeit reluctantly. "For you."

You could've cried all over again from how adorably sappy it was to know he remembered how you insisted on pinky promises; he didn't need to know you only liked them because of how embarrassed he always looked doing something so juvenile.

Holding up your own pinky, you twirled it around his and smiled. "I'll hold you to it. I love you, Katsuki."

The casual way you dropped love into the conversation made his eyes widen and the tips of his ears flush pink. You said it with complete confidence as easily as if discussing the weather. How you could ever call yourself cowardly was beyond him.

Scoffing and shaking his head, Katsuki snickered before invading your space, keeping you in place by your pinky while close enough to see his own reflection in your startled eyes. "Love you, too." Each time he said it was a little easier than the last. Besides, he couldn't let you outdo him, especially not on his own birthday.

On that note, while he wanted to pull away to tease you just the tiniest bit, you leaned in close enough for your lips to brush. "Otanjoubi omedetou, Kat-su-ki." The slow, slurred way you tugged at his name like you knew exactly how much slack to give and take to keep him from toppling over the edge made him briefly regret wanting to go back inside at all.

Over as soon as it began, the kiss was brief but had you smiling before hopping up from the bench, pulling him up by the hand to meet you. God, he was so fucking whipped.

As you neared the back door where you heard the party moving on without you or the birthday boy, you slowed to let Katsuki overtake you. This was his conversation to have, not yours. Sort of.

Katsuki paused, glanced back at you, and tugged his head towards the house before giving your hand a light squeeze of reassurance. Don't worry, I'm here. Even if they were all his friends, everyone except for Uraraka was, for the most part, a complete stranger… again, sort of.

With a final deep breath, you turned off the translator, slid it into your small purse, and let Katsuki slide open the door and lead you inside.

Almost immediately, you felt far too many pairs of eyes on you as the commotion and conversation died down leaving only the background music playing from the speakers. Even though you technically knew who all of them were, they didn't know you. Some were probably out of the loop completely as to what was going on judging by several confused or intrigued stares. Jaw clenched, body tense, and toes curled inside your slippers, you immediately regretted leaving the isolated safety of the backyard.

"Oi, stop staring, you weirdos," Katsuki demanded as he kept you close to his side and glared at anyone trying to make a spectacle of the two of you. He had nothing to hide, not anymore. "This is my girlfriend. Don't make a big deal out of it."

Scanning the various faces of everyone at that curt announcement - some shocked, some excited, some ambivalent - he stopped when he saw the four morons in charge of this so-called surprise.

Kirishima broke the awkward quiet by strutting through the crowd towards you and Katsuki with a satisfied grin plastered across his face. However, it gradually fell as he came closer and noticed Katsuki’s obvious irritation. Midoriya, Todoroki, and Uraraka stood behind Kirishima. “Uh… happy birthday? Again? You don’t look happy even though… “ Kirishima tried to glance your way, but Katsuki sidestepped to block you from view. “What’s wrong?”

Jabbing a finger in each of their directions, he barked out an order that left no room for debate. "You four. We need to talk in private. Now."

"What's like, happening? Is the party already over…? Bummer." A tipsy Camie squeezed past Sero and Ashido looking flushed and frustrated at the killed mood.

Scraping a hand down his face, Katsuki's eye twitched trying to keep his composure for your sake. Fucking pinky swear… "It's not over. This won't take long. Do whatever you want; it's not my house."

This immediately cheered up Camie who seemed oblivious to the drama unfolding before her like a soap opera. Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, and Uraraka all shared a look before Uraraka cleared her throat. "Um, there's a spare bedroom down the hall we can use."

Reluctantly, the group filed into a messy line and began walking away from the rest of the party with Midoriya at the helm. Katsuki took one step before you pulled on his arm and beckoned him closer with your finger. Judging by the reluctance written in your body language, you wanted to do this even less than he did, which meant ripping off the bandaid now would hopefully ease the soreness for the rest of the night. "Eh?" He leaned down to let you whisper into his good ear. Gesturing with his thumb, Katsuki ignored the stares from everyone else left behind as he led you by the hand down the hallway after the others.

Once you’d disappeared, Ashido and Yaoyorozu shared a concerned glance. They’d listened to your story earlier today. The worry regarding how things would turn out in addition to this secretive surprise nonsense and being in a totally unfamiliar world with unfamiliar people was a lot to deal with. At least the Bakugo part of the equation appeared to turn out for the better…

Sero glanced around since he realized someone was missing. “Hey, where’d Kaminari go…?”

As Midoriya opened a door at the end of the hall, Katsuki pointed to one on the opposite wall leading to the bathroom. At least those Japanese lessons with Liviya were paying off a bit. And in all honesty, you kind of wanted to let them all have their back and forth without feeling like a third wheel in the corner; trying to keep up with five different people speaking over each other in Japanese was probably beyond the little translator’s capabilities, anyway.

Turning on the bathroom light, you took a deep breath before glancing at yourself in the mirror with a jolt. “Oh, god… I really walked back inside like this?” All that crying had smeared the makeup around your eyes and left dirty tear tracks down your cheeks. “Waterproof my ass,” you cursed while digging in your purse for the makeup wipes you rightfully assumed you’d need for some emergency cleanup.

The last in line, Katsuki closed the door to the spare office behind him as the others stood in front of a desk littered with Midoriya's unmistakable scribblings; a habit he never abandoned even into adulthood.

Honestly, Katsuki was glad to be alone with them for at least a few minutes because he didn't want you to observe him blowing a gasket. He rounded on the nervous group as Midoriya stepped forward with his palm out as if presenting an invisible peace offering. "Kacchan, I know you're probably confused-"

"What the hell is wrong with all of you?" His biting cadence shut Midoriya up with a squeak as he glared down at the rest of them. "I know you take pride in trying to solve my own problems without consulting me first, but why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to bring (y/n) here without telling me? How did you even get her here?!"

Katsuki was loud, always had been. Eventually, those that knew him best learned that he was actually most dangerous and serious when he was quiet, when he didn't hide behind roaring noise and bravado. And right now, with a deep set frown and shadowed eyes, the gravel in his voice was honed enough to cut glass.

Kirishima took up the mantle of attempting to calm him down. "What all did (y/n) say already? And I'm sorry we didn't tell you before now, but we weren't even sure this was all gonna work in the end. It was a huge gamble. Plus, y'know… birthday surprise and all that…" Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck when Katsuki’s grimace didn’t budge.

“She didn’t tell me much of anything. Said it would probably piss me off, and she’s right even though you haven’t even begun explaining yet. Besides, it’s not her responsibility to fill me in because it wasn’t her plan to begin with.” He accusingly cut his eyes towards Midoriya who was the worst out of all of them when it came to acting without thinking. “So,” he continued while crossing his arms, “start talking before (y/n) comes back.”

It seemed like their plan for a happy reunion came to fruition, but good intentions didn’t excuse the underhanded tactics to get there.

While the group unenthusiastically took turns explaining the hoops they jumped through to get their friend and his long lost love back together - researching potential quirks, pulling favors, Uraraka paying you a visit - you were just about done cleaning yourself up in the bathroom when someone whispered your name outside the door.

“(Y/n)…? Daijoubu desuka?” It sounded like… Ashido, maybe?

Leaving your purse and makeup scattered on the counter, you unlocked the door and peeked outside to see a black and gold eye staring back at you. You opened the door to see Yaoyorozu standing behind Ashido, both with worried expressions.

“Oh, uh, daijoubu desu.” Before you could attempt to try and listen in on what was happening in the other room, Ashido pushed her way inside the small bathroom with Yaoyorozu in tow before closing the door behind her. Scrunching up her eyes as if you were under inspection, Ashido eventually nodded while Yaoyorozu picked up the translator on the sink and turned it on without much difficulty.

“I believe this is… there we go. Simple enough. Apologies for intruding, (y/n)-san, but we wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“We could tell you’d been crying outside,” Ashido explained. “Needed to make sure Bakugo didn’t say something dumb to our new friend.” Even though they’d only met you earlier today, the two of them came to make sure you were OK? “You did a pretty good job cleaning up your makeup, though.”

You couldn’t help but feel appreciative of their concern; Katsuki was lucky to form bonds with such strong-willed and considerate people. “Thanks, really. But they were happy tears. He almost screwed up, but quickly made up for it. I don't really blame him, though, since I think it would've been much smoother if it all wasn't, y'know, a secret."

Your reassurance that nothing terrible happened seemed to ease their concern before Ashido huffed and crossed her arms. "Thought so. Boys can be so dumb, sometimes. Don't worry, I gave Kirishima an earful when we got here. But I'll leave most of the finger-wagging to you and Bakugo."

"Speaking of," Yaoyorozu began while glancing at the bathroom door. "If you need to rejoin the others, we don't want to hold you up if there's nothing else you need from us."

As you started shoving makeup back into your purse, you paused. Surely they would know, right? "Actually… I have a question about certain Japanese words and phrases since I know they can be highly contextual."

The two women nodded confidently and said they could provide some translation help. "OK, well… what's the difference between 'dai suki da yo' and 'aishiteru'? I know the latter is generally more serious… what?"

Yaoyorozu flushed and covered her mouth with her hand while Ashido’s eyes sparkled mischievously as a pursed grin spread across her pink face. “For one,” Yaoyorozu hesitantly began, “using ‘aishiteru’ is um, very rare. It’s reserved for intense and serious situations such as a marriage proposal… It’s a term that cannot be misinterpreted and is used very intentionally.”

Keeping her sly expression, Ashido added onto Yaoyorozu's explanation. "Mm, yep, it's a super intense term for loooooove," she reiterated while batting her eyelashes. "It's not an everyday term, you know. And some people might never use it at all." It was like this kind of gossip directly fueled Ashido's excited energy.

All you could do was stand dumbfounded. You knew way back before Katsuki left that Japanese was highly contextual and, though simplistic, the dictionary touched on it briefly. So, for Katsuki - someone who knew full well what it meant and the implications behind it - to say it first… "Oh."

"... Oh?"

"Did we break her?"

At that exact moment, all three of you turned towards the unseen hallway as raised voices echoed past the doors. Remembering what was going on in the other room snapped you out of your stupor. So much for Katsuki staying calm. "Uh, guess I should get back and see what's going on," you said while picking up the rest of your things and checking yourself one last time in the mirror. "Thanks for checking in on me. Katsuki's lucky to have friends like you."

Yaoyorozu seemed to calm down from the aishiteru discussion and gave you a warm smile. "Of course, (y/n)-san. Hopefully, things turned out for the best even if we had a rocky start."

Ashido nodded before opening the bathroom door to find Sero trying to listen in while pressed against the wall. When the bathroom light illuminated him, he just grinned and shrugged to play it off as no big deal. "Oh, well. Was just trying to feel included is all," he joked. “So, Ashido, don’t you owe me some money?” You heard him chuckle as Ashido pushed him back down the hall through some incoherent grumbling followed by Yaoyorozu. That left just you standing in front of the door. The voices had died down by now, but you were still a little worried for whatever scene lay beyond it.

The tension in the office hung heavy as Katsuki glared at a squirming Midoriya. "I can't fucking-" Knock knock. Someone at the door cut him off. Before he could tell whoever it was to get lost, he heard his name on the other side.

"Katsuki?"

Taking a deep breath to calm himself after hearing the absolute bullshit excuse of a story they told him to try and explain away what almost turned into complete ruin, Katsuki turned on his heel, walked to the door, and flung it open.

No wonder you were in the bathroom for so long - you'd cleaned up your makeup and seemed less frazzled than before. He just figured you needed some time to yourself, but it also gave him the opportunity to hear out the morons standing on the opposite end of the room without feeling you side-eyeing his exasperation.

"Hey. You good?" Nodding, you let him lead you into the room before gently closing the door behind you. Although he appeared collected, the stiff way he carried himself and the vestige of various creases along his brow and around his mouth gave the truth away. Not to mention the four people now staring in your direction looking equally drained. You finally noticed Uraraka's belly, but said nothing as she looked especially apologetic before staring down at the floor.

The room, you observed, seemed like an ordinary spare bedroom that they turned into an office space. How often they actually used it was unclear, but a few framed posters of All Might and various shelves lined with books and Hero memorabilia made it feel less sterile. Of course, the room itself wasn't important; your eyes hesitantly drifted to Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka before Katsuki stomped up to them to presumably continue where they left off before you knocked.

"I was hoping this would be quick. Didn't think this story had a hundred different chapters to it," he bit out while crossing his arms. Katsuki glanced over his shoulder to see you leaning against the wall. The sooner he could get this over with, the sooner he could get back to what was actually important. "So, if I'm not missing anything, you," he emphasized with a glare in Midoriya's direction, "told Melissa personal shit that wasn't her damn business, then she went and told some extra that I don't even know because he had a teleportation quirk?"

"For the most part, yes," Todoroki answered. "We exhausted our own resources while searching, so Midoriya reached out on his own. If this didn't work, then we would've been out of options."

While the secrecy of it all was infuriating, Katsuki was honestly amazed, but not at all surprised, by the massive hoops they jumped through for his sake. No one here would dream of giving less than 150% when it came to helping each other out; he realized that back at Kamino all those years ago. "Right… and this guy-"

"Devin-san," Midoriya quickly corrected. Katsuki narrowed his eyes.

"Devin, whatever. Is he even a Hero? How does his quirk work? Why did he agree to help you all, anyway?" All four of them shared glances as if silently trying to figure out who would do the explaining. That didn't bode well, but Kirishima was the one who finally spoke up.

"Alright, so, one, he isn't a Hero, but his mom is or…?" Side-eyeing Midoriya, Kirishima continued when he saw a confirming nod. "His mom, yeah. She's a Hero over in America. That's how Melissa knew him since she or her dad probably worked on support items and tech over there. Apparently, Devin owed Melissa a favor, and she used it on this." Unimpressed, Katsuki stood silently and waited for the redhead to get to the point. "Uh, as for his quirk… it is a teleportation-type quirk, but it works differently than Kurogiri's."

Those types of powerful quirks were rare; not as uncommon as they used to be when quirks were overall simpler and less powerful, but still coveted all the same. What made this guy's quirk so special, then? "Well? Tell me how it works, Kirishima." He needed confirmation of something he was unsure of last year. Something that irked him, but he lacked proof for any kind of confrontation. And judging from how hesitant Kirishima appeared to let out the full extent of the truth, this was either going to close the case or leave it indefinitely unresolved.

Kirishima visibly deflated and seemed to resign himself to finally telling the truth. "It works by using important objects. The more emotional attachment the object has, the further Devin can teleport, including to places he'd never been before. But he had no idea if he could even go to a whole different world. The only way we could try and make it work was to have something… really meaningful."

Tightening his jaw while staring daggers at Kirishima's sinking frown, Katsuki took a single, measured step forward until they were almost nose-to-nose. His words held dangerously steady like a dagger pressed against a windpipe. “I want to hear you admit it.” Katsuki felt your eyes on the back of his neck, watching to see if he’d keep his promise.

At least Kirishima’s eyes looked as fearless as ever as he stared down at his long time friend with a mixture of determination and heavy guilt. “I’m really sorry, Bakugo… yeah, I took the note (y/n) wrote for you. I swear I only saw the first couple of lines before realizing what it was-“

“I should Howitzer you in the fucking mouth.”

It was one thing to defy teachers’ orders and go on a dangerous rescue mission to save his life. But it was something else entirely for them to just assume they knew what was best for him and steal his things. “I deserve it,” Kirishima admitted easily. Telling the truth seemed to dispel most of the strain he was holding in his neck and jaw.

Flaring his nostrils like a cartoon bull preparing to huff out a stream of angry smoke before charging at a taunting red cape, Katsuki let his hands fall to his sides and took a step back before cutting his eyes to the other three. “And you all just went along with everything? It’s obvious that his quirk did work, so why the hell didn’t you just tell me everything then, huh? And-“ Something Kirishima said struck him as odd. Creasing his brows, Katsuki turned on his heel to look at you with confusion before turning back to the group. “You put the note back,” he stated while pointing at Kirishima who nodded obediently. “Which means you didn’t use it to bring (y/n) here, today. So what the fuck was it for?”

This time, it was Uraraka’s turn to solemnly raise her hand. “Um… that’d be me. I sorta volunteered to test out Devin-san’s quirk to make sure it would be safe to go back and forth since he’d never done anything like this before…”

"Safe?" It was just one blow right after the other with this lot. Katsuki stomped over to stand in front of Uraraka, incredulity written across his face in bold lettering. "You mean to tell me you went to her world and presumably saw her and still didn't think to just fucking tell me what was going on?" Wiping a hand down his tired face, Katsuki breathed out a mirthless chuckle. Of course they had to have some kind of contact with you before this point to explain things and get you on board with their scheme, but everything compounded was just too much to take in right then and there. "Ya know what? I don't even wanna know the rest of it." Maybe he should've listened when you insisted that confronting this now would sour his mood, but he couldn't change it now. It would've eaten at him until he heard the truth, anyway.

He hated what he needed to do, but it was necessary. Holding out his hand to Kirishima, he said, "Gimme my spare apartment key back."

Kirishima appeared taken aback and hurt at the request, but handing over the key Katsuki gave him as a symbol of trust and friendship was just the natural consequence of his actions. Without complaint, he pulled out his keyring and slid the key off before wordlessly dropping it in Katsuki's waiting palm.

Avoiding looking at the others, he kept his back to them and trudged over to you with his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans. You looked about as tired as he felt, and you couldn't even understand most of what was being discussed. While there was more he could've pried into, salvaging the remainder of his birthday by spending time with you was far more important than wasting the rest of the night thinking about all this shit.

Katsuki angled his head towards the door that led back to the main hallway to signal he was done here, but to his surprise you weren't ready to head out just yet. You shook your head, whispered, "Chotto matte," and brushed past him to stand in his previous spot in front of Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka.

You didn't want to do this. You really didn't want to do this… but it was one of those unavoidable adult situations that needed to happen. So much discussion around regret and second chances forced you to confront your own anxieties about how the day didn’t exactly measure up to your expectations. Holding the translator up like a microphone, you nervously addressed the group.

“Um… hi,” you reluctantly began. Meeting Katsuki’s closest friends and some of your favorite characters from the series would’ve been so much more exciting if the circumstances weren’t so somber. “I think you all know who I am, but I really only know one of you.” Cutting your eyes to your right, Uraraka was already staring in your direction with mixed emotions. “I know that Katsuki just talked about some things…” Honestly, ‘talked’ was a much kinder word than how Katsuki would’ve described it, but you didn’t want to rub unnecessary salt in the wound. “Still, I wanted to say a few things while I have the opportunity.”

Deciding to start on a positive note, you brought your hands down and bent forward in a shallow bow. Staring down towards the floor, you saw Kirishima and Midoriya's feet shuffle awkwardly from your peripheral vision. "I wanted to thank you all for helping me get here to see Katsuki again. I know it must’ve taken a lot of work and planning. Me being grateful doesn’t dismiss some of the hurtful things you did, though.” Standing back up to your full height, you forced yourself to look everyone in the eyes; you wanted them to see you - truly see you - for who you were.

"In all honesty, today didn't go at all like I thought it would. I came here unsure of who or what might greet me. I didn't know anyone and was in an unfamiliar place." You noticed as realization finally seemed to spark in Midoriya's eyes as you tried to articulate your feelings regarding their treatment of you. "The only two people I did know weren't there, and almost as soon as I arrived I was practically pushed out the door-"

"You WHAT?!" Katsuki's raised voice would have startled you if you hadn’t expected at least one interruption. However, you didn’t need him fighting on your behalf, not when he had his own grievances to worry about.

You held up a hand to motion to Katsuki that you could handle yourself as you watched Uraraka quietly chastise her mortified husband. “I felt like more of a burden than a guest,” you continued as the room quieted down once again. “But I’m grateful to Yaoyorozu and Ashido for helping me out even though you didn’t tell them what was going on, either. By the time I was brought back here for the party, I felt like… you all just used me as a means to make Katsuki happy.”

At that, Midoriya wasn’t the only one appearing regretful as the consequences of their eagerness finally set in. Todoroki’s frown was small, but not insignificant if you took into account the usual calm control he exuded. Furthermore, it really pained you to see Kirishima, normally so bright and positive, looking like a kicked puppy. Even his signature spiked hair drooped as he hung his head in apparent shame.

“I’m not a gift to give to someone. I’m a person who has just as much stake in this whole thing as Katsuki.” Only when you finished speaking did you realize your hands were shaking. Still, explaining yourself lifted yet another weight from your chest as relief washed over you. “So… while I do appreciate everything you all did, I’d like an apology. And I think you owe one to Yaoyorozu and Ashido, too.”

Requesting an apology from Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka wasn’t exactly on your to-do list for the day, but you knew that ignoring your feelings was the perfect way to feel terrible and anxious when all you wanted to do was celebrate the remainder of Katsuki’s birthday.

Uraraka stepped forward first and it forced you to analyze her discomfort when you tried to avoid looking at her completely during your speech. You considered her a friend by the time she left, so knowing she’d gone along with keeping their plan a secret after you tried to convince her it was a bad idea made the hurt more personal. Wringing her hands together, she dipped into a shallow bow. “I’m so sorry, (y/n)-san. Both you and Bakugo-kun are right. We should’ve explained things once I returned, but then we found out about the baby and… n-not that it’s an excuse or anything. I will say I yelled at my husband when I realized he let you leave without telling me, first.”

Having someone bow to you was probably something you’d never get used to. They didn’t need to present some ostentatious apology for it to matter; they just needed to understand why you were upset in the first place and promise to be more considerate in the future. “Thank you. I-” Reflexively, you were about to give your own apology for dragging out this little drama party, but bit your lip to stop yourself. There was nothing to apologize for, but old habits were hard to break. "I appreciate it."

Uraraka straightened up, allowing you to really see how her rosy cheeks had rounded out even more as the baby grew from the last time you'd seen her. "And congratulations. Really, I'm happy for you." At the very least, you didn't want to add to her existing stress of, you know, being pregnant. Smiling softly, she folded her hands under her belly and uttered a soft, "arigatou."

Turning to look pointedly at her husband, Midoriya stepped forward with frantic speed before dipping into an excessively low bow. And another. And another. It was like he'd turned into one of those old drinking bird toys that bobbed perpetually up and down, except turned up to about one-hundred and the bird babbled out a long stream of strung-together apologies in Japanese.

You stumbled back at his sudden whirlwind of movement, but something wide and sturdy appeared at your back to help keep your balance. "Uh-"

"Don't make it weird. We got two more apologies to hear," Katsuki grunted out right above your head as he kept a grounding hand on your waist. So, he literally had your back on this; Comforting to know.

Uraraka tugged on her husband's shirt collar to pull him back in line as Todoroki took his place. While he didn't bow like the others, you knew his words were sincere. "Sorry about the mess we made. I suppose good intentions don't overshadow the problems they might cause. Oh, right. I never introduced myself. I'm Todoroki. Nice to meet you."

"You didn't even- fucking hopeless." You couldn't even argue with Katsuki's indignant grumbling. Even though you technically knew who Todoroki was, it was true that this was his first formal introduction. You kept it short and simple and thanked him for the apology. Just one more left until you could hopefully put this awkwardness beyond you…

Honestly, out of everyone you knew you might meet here, you were most excited about Kirishima. He was a fan favorite from the very beginning with his talk of manliness and friendly attitude. As the first person to really make an effort in befriending Katsuki, it was no wonder they were still close years later. Even though it wasn't technically your fault, it still hurt to see the current wedge driven between the two of them.

You felt Katsuki's grip on your waist tighten the tiniest amount as Kirishima sheepishly stood in front of you. He glanced up above your head, but even without seeing his face you knew Katsuki was giving the redhead a hardened glare. "If you didn't already know, I'm Kirishima Eijirou, but you can just call me Kirishima. And… I'm really sorry," he admitted before giving his own apologetic bow, his long red hair spreading across his shoulders. "It was all the opposite of manly. Everything you said was right and it took guts to speak your mind like that. If it's worth anything, I respect that a lot. I can see now why Bakugo likes you," he confessed while standing up to his full height which was just a bit taller than Katsuki's, excluding the hair.

Under different circumstances, you might've felt bashful at his words, but you were tired, annoyed, and your hospitality meter was almost running on empty. "You took something important that I gave Katsuki, right?"

Clearing his throat, Kirishima nodded. "Y-yea, I did."

"Mmhm," you hummed, wanting to make him sweat for a moment. "That was fucked up. Don't do something like that again. Understand?" At your demand, all he managed was a slow, purposeful nod. "Good," you sighed. "OK, I'm done chastising your friends.”

Katsuki took the hint and grabbed your hand to finally lead you out of this stifling room. But as he ushered you out the door, he turned around for a final glare over his shoulder and mouthed, “I’m still going to kick your asses,” before slamming the door behind him.

Kirishima, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka stood together in silence for a second before letting out a collective groan. Well, that didn’t go well…

“So much for the idea that she’d protect us from Bakugo… I guess we had it coming, though,” Kirishima admitted, still melancholy over making his best friend and his girlfriend so upset. "Didn't expect her to look so intimidating…" The way you held yourself had him convinced that, despite being quirkless and a good head and a half shorter than him, you could've put him in the ground if you tried. Or maybe that was what you wanted him to think. Either way, Kirishima had no plans to make things worse for his friends or himself from this point forward.

Once the two of you were in the hallway, you barely had time to glance back towards the living room before Katsuki grabbed your hand and tugged you in the opposite direction. He quickly rounded the corner at the end of the hall before you nearly bumped into him as he came to a dead stop in front of an unfamiliar door and wordlessly turned the knob.

What neither of you expected to see were two figures suddenly illuminated when Katsuki flipped the light switch.

“AGH!”

“Ow! You shocked me, Kami-”

“Ugh, gross.”

“Oooh… oops.”

Katsuki grimaced before turning the lights back off and shutting the door. All he wanted was an empty room, but those two idiots just had to be sucking face while half naked and- A dry retch escaped him before the cursed scene was complete. He glanced down at you, a hand clamped over your mouth to stifle a giggle before he pulled you further down the hall to hopefully find a room that was actually empty.

Luckily, the next door he opened that happened to be at the very end of the hallway fit the bill as Katsuki ushered the two of you inside before closing the door.

A light shade of green paint coated the walls while various pieces of an unfinished crib lay in the far corner. Ignoring all of the boxed-up decorations and lingering smell of paint for what would soon become a nursery, Katsuki leaned his forearm against the wall, putting you in shadow in front of him.

"What-"

"I'm sorry." You looked up at him in confusion as his jaw tensed. "I called you my gift earlier. I didn't know." Had he been aware of all the trouble you went through today, he would've chosen his words more carefully. To think that you'd been here all fucking day, passed around from one person to the next all for some stupid birthday surprise. The shit you put up with for his sake was frustratingly astounding.

"Shit, don't scare me like that," you remarked with a huff and light tap on his chest. "I thought something was actually wrong. But that's nothing to apologize for," you clarified. "They were the ones treating me that way, even if they didn't mean to. You can call me a present if you want, just for today."

It wasn't like he wanted to be irate on his birthday, not when he had you at arm's length again. He was about to switch the subject with a comment about unwrapping you to hopefully lighten the mood, but you cut him off as he opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry, though. Not for anything I said back there, but just… " You leaned your head against his arm, still pressed against the wall. "I didn't want to put a wedge between you and your friends. And I wanted your friends to like me after all the stories you told me…"

Putting an end to this shitty mood was his top priority at the moment, because if you were sad, then he was sad, and he'd been sad for six fucking months. "Listen," he said, leaning down close to make sure you looked him in the eyes. "Don't apologize for shit. You warned that I'd get pissed, and I did it anyway to get it over with. That whole conversation sucked, but I'm not gonna spend the rest of the night grinding my teeth over it. You shouldn't, either. And for your last point, they'll get over it. If I know them like I think I do, then you standing up and chewing 'em out made their respect for you shoot through the damn roof." It wasn't easy standing up to people you didn't know, but he expected nothing less from you at this point; it was one of the many things he loved about you.

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth before pushing off the wall to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pulled back, you were smiling. "Thank you, Katsuki. You're still number one at motivational speeches."

Katsuki snorted. "Of course I am." Dipping down, he smirked against your jaw before caressing your skin with his lips, feather-light and teasing. In all honesty, watching you act bossy was kind of hot if he didn’t think too hard about context. Too bad he didn't get very far before the door suddenly opened.

Todoroki poked his head inside the room, locked eyes with Katsuki who gave him a ferocious death glare, and shut it a second later. He could hear conversation in the hallway. One familiar, whiny voice was complaining about being "interrupted". Knowing he'd get no privacy while in someone else's house, Katsuki backed away from the wall and stuffed his hands into his pockets as you suppressed a snicker.

"Well, tell me what ya wanna do. We can stay here for a while longer, or we can leave and head to my place." He checked his watch: 9:47 PM. How the hell did it get so late? Wait- "How long are you here for? When do you have to go back?" With everything else coming to light, he'd forgotten to find out exactly how much time the two of you had together. If you only had a day and those idiots wasted it for some stupid surprise-

“I’m here for a week.” He visibly relaxed at hearing that. While a week was much better than only a day or two, it wasn’t long enough; it would never be enough. “If that works for you, that is. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if things didn’t, y’know, go well.”

Thank fuck he came to his senses before you walked out of his life forever. Again. “Why would it be a problem?”

You shrugged. “I mean, we’re kinda in reversed positions. I’m here unexpectedly, interrupting your life, relying on you for stuff even though I brought clothes and things I need with me…”

"I guess so," he admitted. "But unlike you, I'm technically my own boss. Unless it's an emergency, the others can take care of things for a week. They did it for a whole month, after all. But we can talk about it more later. Answer the other question: what do you wanna do?" His apartment was a much quieter and more comfortable space to talk and catch up properly, so he hoped you chose to leave rather than stick around much later.

“I dunno why you’re asking me when it’s your birthday, but fine.” You glanced to your left at the closed door leading back to the hallway where you could hear faint voices and music. “While I definitely don’t want to stay super long, do you mind at least introducing me to your other friends first?” There was no way you were going to pass up an opportunity to meet some of the others. You’d spotted Jirou, Sero, and a few other semi-familiar faces; even if you didn’t get a chance to talk more with Kirishima or Todoroki, you wanted to be able to look back on some unforgettable memories with Katsuki’s other friends.

Even though you saw his eye twitch, Katsuki didn’t argue about wanting to stay. “Yeah, fine.” Maybe a bit of mingling could distract him from falling back into a sour mood. Opening the door for you, he led you back down the hallway where, unsurprisingly, a small group had been waiting for your reappearance. Another upside of introducing yourself was to hopefully diminish the amount of gawking aimed your way.

Wasting no time, Katsuki immediately honed in on Yaoyorozu and Jirou who were chatting off to the side. He steered you to stand in front of him as he quickly introduced you to Jirou and vice versa before guiding Yaoyorozu off to the side for some private conversation. Well, being personable wasn’t exactly his strong suit…

Luckily, Jirou took the lead and rolled through the initial awkwardness. Apparently, Yaoyorozu had filled her in on what was happening and who you were, so at least you didn’t have to recount all of that again. Rather than pry into your relationship with Katsuki, Jirou asked about what you did back home and your hobbies while you inquired about her quirk.

Talking with her was easy and comforting with her chill demeanor. When Katsuki and Yaoyorozu rejoined the conversation, he blurted out that you were a good singer which prompted a sudden urge to strangle him. It was one thing to sing for yourself or for Katsuki, but Jirou’s parents were professional musicians and she no doubt inherited a ton of their music-making talent. Luckily, Jirou didn’t ask for a demonstration of any kind, and instead, just encouraged you to keep practicing if it was something you enjoyed. You thanked her and, before you could say goodbye, Katsuki was already ushering you towards a different friend group.

“That was weird, but she’s nice,” Jirou commented once she and Yaoyorozu were alone again. “Seeing him hold hands with someone is kinda bizarre since I never thought it would happen, but I’m glad it did. Oh, what did he want to talk to you about?”

Yaoyorozu smiled softly. “Bakugo-san wanted to thank me for helping (y/n)-san earlier today. He said he owes me a favor whenever I may need it.” Jirou’s eyebrows shot up into her purple bangs and glanced over at the two of you now talking with Ashido, Sero, and Tokoyami. Getting a “thank you” out of Bakugo was rare, but having him admit to owing someone a favor was downright unheard of. “He really is a caring person. It’s unfortunate that she can’t stay with how happy he seems…” Yaoyorozu leaned down and gave her girlfriend a light, chaste kiss upon her hair, grateful for the joy by her side.

While it was one thing to grow accustomed to pink skin and minor edits to the human bodies you were used to, seeing Tokoyami and Dark Shadow up close was more jarring than you assumed it would be. You knew there was nothing to be nervous about, but trying to make sense of Dark Shadow's sketchy, ethereal appearance proved difficult. Reflexively, you kept Katsuki at arm's length while Sero chuckled at how sad Dark Shadow looked at your hesitation to touch it.

"C'mon, it isn't that scary-" A flick to his temple from Ashido cut off Sero's harmless mocking.

"Dummy, she said people don't have quirks where she's from," she chided. "I mean, they don't even have people with pink skin! Their loss, honestly."

Luckily, Tokoyami didn't appear insulted; maybe he was accustomed to people finding his quirk intimidating. "I see. There is nothing to fear. However, your comfort remains most important."

While you nodded and cautiously held out your right hand while gripping Katsuki's arm with your left, he reassured you that everything was fine. "Nothin' to be- ah shit." Seemingly out of nowhere stumbled a more-than-tipsy Camie who was looking around for "ghost doggy" whatever the hell that meant. If there was anyone here at this party with the potential to embarrass him in front you, it was Camie. And Kaminari. But he was hopefully too busy hooking up with Shinsou to cause any real damage.

"Like, found you," she declared before confidently patting Dark Shadow like someone might pet a- oh. Ghost doggy. Duh. "Hm? Who's this huh? New bestie?" Did she totally space out during his declaration earlier? "Why's this phone talking weird?" She pointed a nail at the translator in your hand as you stood by awkwardly.

"Go drink some water," Katsuki ordered while knowing damn well that Camie could down a staggering amount of alcohol before passing out on a toilet. "And since you have elevator music and emojis between your ears, I'll say again that this is my girlfriend."

It seemed to take Camie a good five seconds to process that information, but when she did, Katsuki swore he saw a twinkle in her eye. "OMG, for realsies? You're like, so brave and stuff," she remarked with complete sincerity towards you while Sero and Ashido were already cracking up. "Cute dress, tho. I'm Utsushimi Camie, but just Camie is chill.”

“Uh, hi.” The translator butchered Camie’s words, but at least you caught her name. “Nice to meet you. You can just call me (y/n).”

Camie smiled before pointing her pouting lips up at Katsuki while still holding tight to Dark Shadow; Surprisingly, Tokoyami didn’t seem to mind, at least not outwardly. “Bakugoooo, why didn’t you spill that you were off the market? I thought we were fam.”

“Why can you never talk normally?” He could already feel impending bullshit creeping nearer. "And I didn't even know she was gonna be here, so don't throw a damn fit." While that was true, there wasn't much of a point explaining your whole backstory if your stay here wasn't permanent or at least longer than a week.

Camie tilted her head with a blank stare before finally letting go of Dark Shadow and cocking her hip. She glanced down at you, winked, then held her hand up to her chin. “Don’t you fucking-”

Too late. A stream of opaque, light pink smoke poured out of her mouth and swirled into a tall cloud, effectively catching the attention of everyone else in the room. It only took a second for an image to appear in the smoke. A mirror copy of Katsuki now stood in front of you, albeit the fluttering sparkles surrounding him weren't exactly normal. Katsuki wanted to scream.

"Hey there, beautiful," the fake Katsuki purred with a wink. "You made my birthday wish come true by being here." Ashido and Sero sputtered with laughter; even Tokoyami couldn't hold back a low chuckle. The only one in the room who didn't seem to be laughing was the real Katsuki. However, before he could blow up Camie's cloud, you paused your shocked giggles to point at the imposter's face.

"Ahem… nice try, but he doesn't look right," you accused with squinted eyes. "The nose is off and his eyes aren't the right shade of red. Also, the real Katsuki has a way with romantic words that this fake just can't compete with." Accepting his defeat with mocking grace, the illusion huffed and shrugged with a smirk before the smoke dissipated, leaving only the smiling Camie behind.

"Wow, you're like, pretty cool. But I think the birthday boy is broken or something." Her eyes drifted up, causing you to turn and see a glowing-faced Katsuki who refused to look you in the eye. Oops, I'll make it up to him later.

Sero and Ashido took turns making kissy noises before being yelled at by Katsuki. "SHUT THE HELL UP! WHERE'S MY DAMN CAKE SO I CAN GET OUTTA HERE?!"

While you were being introduced to his friends, Midoriya and the other chewed-out friends hung back and out of the spotlight to give the two of you some space and reflect on their actions. Uraraka rested her swollen feet in a recliner they'd bought once the pregnancy was announced. Midoriya stood nearby with Todoroki before heading to the kitchen in silence to bring out the requested cake since Bakugo’s voice cut across everyone else in the room. The most forlorn of the bunch, Kirishima leaned against the wall while finishing off a drink that smelled of strong alcohol.

"Kirishima." Todoroki calling his name barely made him look up. "You should try to talk to him. Not tonight, but-"

"Nah," the redhead interrupted with a shake of his head. "I've pissed him off enough for one day. I'll let him come to me when he wants."

Uraraka and Todoroki shared a concerning look. While the earlier confrontation was far from pleasant and gave them much to think about, they knew Bakugo wouldn't be mad at them forever; they'd shared too much throughout the years to let this be the end of their friendship. Maybe Kirishima needed some time to accept his faults and mistakes just like the rest of them.

"Oi, about time." Midoriya had lit the candles and carried the cake into the main room before giving Katsuki some space while the other guests crowded around the faint orange glow. "Candles? I'm not a damn kid- wait, how many are on here?! I'm not that old!"

Kaminari poked his head out of the crowd. “Hey! You’re lucky I resisted eating some frosting before now! No one told me I had to do math today.”

Katsuki groaned. “Counting isn’t fucking math- whatever…” Standing behind him, you grabbed his shoulders and turned him back around to face the cake to keep him from arguing with Kaminari. Grimacing at the candles - there were at least thirty - the sudden sound of a few people beginning to actually sing him a happy birthday song forced him to wheel back around and shout, “You all got a death wish?!” Only two notes made it out before he blew out the candles in a single gust like the Big Bad Wolf; a few of them even toppled over into the icing.

You sat beside Katsuki on one of the couches in the living room, a plate piled high with a large cake slice in one hand and a fork in the other. Of course, he’d given himself the first and largest slice and you the second. He didn’t even bother with a fork, opting instead to just eat it with his fingers. “I thought you didn’t like sweets that much?”

“I don’t,” he answered before licking orange and white icing from the corner of his mouth. He missed a spot, but swatted your hand away before you could wipe it away yourself. "But one of my old classmates made it and he's a damn good baker because his quirk relies on sugar. He made most of the birthday cakes for us while we lived in dorms."

"So I guess he knows what you like, then," you murmured before taking another bite; by the large bites he took, you suspected Katsuki's vocal aversion to sweet things wasn't as authentic as he claimed. It really was delicious, though - not as sweet as a typical store-bought cake, but still flavorful and rich. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone approaching the two of you, but the moist cake in your mouth kept you from greeting him properly.

"Aren't ya gonna introduce me, Kacchan?" Hovering in front of the couch, Kaminari smirked down at Katsuki who barely acknowledged his longtime friend.

He stuffed another bite of cake in his mouth before retoring, "Only if you lock the door before you try and fuck in someone else's house." Kaminari sputtered and spun his head around to make sure no one overheard Katsuki's jab even though Uraraka chewing him out earlier was loud enough for most of the guests to hear. "Speaking of, where's the insomniac?"

You shielded your mouth to keep icing from flying out while you attempted to recover from choking on your laughter. "Keep your- what the hell, man?!" Katsuki snorted at his incredulous face, a rare sight for someone with so little shame. "Shinsou's probably in the bathroom or something. But don't make fun of me for shooting my shot when I just wanted to say 'hi' to the girl you've been simping over for months."

He opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head. "Too easy," Katsuki sighed. "But one, shut up, and two, what the fuck is a 'simp'?" You had to set down your plate before it toppled to the floor as you struggled to catch your breath. Their dynamic seemed even more chaotic now than what you recalled from the anime. "Oi, you good? The hell's so funny?"

"She knows I'm right."

"About what?"

"That you're a major simp."

"Stop callin' me that! If it's short for 'simpleton', then that's definitely you, not me."

"Nope. Wrong," you managed to sputter while wiping tears from your eyes and a few final coughs as both Kaminari and Katsuki stared at you. "Katsuki, that's not what simp means. But you're not one, anyway. So, you're both wrong. Also, hi. Nice to meet you…?"

"Kaminari," he answered while a confused Katsuki pouted through his cake slice. "And same to you. But also, are you suuuuuuure…?"

You nodded before picking your cake back up and turning to Katsuki knowing what he was going to ask. Of course, you already knew Kaminari's name, but since you hadn't formally met yet, it was a good idea to exchange brief introductions. "I'll tell you what it means later, but being labeled a simp is an insult." He was more like a kept man mixed with a snarky house husband… boyfriend… yeah, something like that.

He licked the last of the icing from his fingers while staring daggers at Kaminari who by this point, knew the guy was mostly bark and only mildly bitey. "You're fuckin' lucky I'm in a good mood, because I'm giving you a head start. One."

"Head start for-"

"Two."

Pursing his lips, Kaminari understood and began moving away to a safe distance before bending down and whispering something in Katsuki's ear. Whatever it was sent sparks flying from his palms as he yelled and leaned over the arm of the couch trying to snatch the tail of Kaminari's shirt, but for once he wasn't quick enough and Kaminari escaped towards a very perplexed Shinsou hiding out in the shadows with Tokoyami.

It didn't take long before the whiplash of the day finally caught up to you. A single yawn had Katsuki asking if you were finally ready to go, to which you gave an affirmative nod. "Mmyeah. Just lemme ask Uraraka something first."

While you headed over to the recliner where Uraraka was sleepily chatting with Yaoyorozu, Katsuki scanned the room and zeroed in on the sullen redhead on the opposite side. Despite not wanting a repeat of everything that pissed him off earlier, just leaving Kirishima to simmer in his own self-pity felt… if things were switched, Katsuki knew what would happen.

A shadow poured across Kirishima's face, cheeks tinted pink from yet another drink as he looked up to see Katsuki standing over him.

"Huh-"

"Kirishima. Stop drinking and listen to me." He lowered his drink and winced as if bracing for round two of the harsh-but-deserved verbal barrage cage match. "I meant everything I said, and I bet (y/n) did, too. The way you guys went about all this was shitty." Kirishima frowned, but Katsuki continued. "One thing I didn't say, though… was thanks. 'Cause I know you idiots only did it to help me out with all this stuff." The love stuff, really. At that exact moment, Katsuki cut his eyes to find you standing in front of Uraraka, but you were looking at him, because of course you were. "But don't you ever do something so fuckin' stupid again, got it?"

To anyone who didn't know him, Kirishima's sudden blubbering could've been caused by all the alcohol he downed in the past hours. But Katsuki knew he wore his emotions, even the sappy ones, right on his sleeve. "Man, I'm still so -hic- soooooo sorry! And I super duper swear-"

"You already apologized. An' I'm still pissed at you and the others. I just didn't wanna leave without saying that your screwed up plan was worth it." He left those final words as he walked away to find his way back to you.

"Everything ok?" Your eyes flickered between Katsuki and Kirishima as you headed to the genkan to replace your house slippers with your heels.

"Mm, fine," he grunted while flicking a wave over his shoulder in a wordless goodbye to everyone. "What'd you need Uraraka for?"

You leaned against the wall for balance as you slid into your own shoes; even though you loved these shoes and appreciated how they made your legs look, walking around in them all night would have been tortuous. "Oh, I asked if this translator thing needed a charger or something, but she didn't have one? That the girl who made it didn't mention anything about charging it…" Four months of Japanese lessons weren't nearly enough for conversational edification despite how hardcore of a teacher Livia was, so this thing needed to supplement your gaps in grammar and knowledge since your phone didn't work here.

Without warning, Katsuki grabbed the translator out of your hand, turned around, and yelled over the entire room in his raspy Japanese to catch Uraraka’s attention while you fiddled with the buckle of your shoe. “Wh-?” All you caught through the barked Japanese back and forth between him and Uraraka was a name: Hatsume.

He dropped the device back into your hand with a, “Should be fine,” as you stood at your full height plus heels. Without moving his head, Katsuki gave you a not-so-quick up and down with his eyes, pausing as he stopped to meet your own. Though still shorter than him, it was nice not to have to crane your neck so far to see him. Either he appreciated that too, or admired how the shoes made your legs look. Maybe both. Probably both.

As he buckled his polished leather motorcycle boots, he called back around the corner to someone else, but you turned to open the door and hide a yawn. He placed a sturdy hand on your lower back while leading you outside into the warm spring air.

“Feels weird takin’ you back to my place for a change.” You felt his fingers trace a line from your waist to your hand, his fingers lacing with yours through muscle memory. He ignored the cars parked in the driveway and stopped next to his motorcycle. “My ride. Like it?”

You remembered how he stared at the stopped motorcycle all those months ago and smiled. “Looks nice; very you. Guess you decided to give into some self indulgence for once? And does this mean I get to ride back with you?”

After a second, both of you realized that, for different reasons, you could not ride back with him and said “shit,” at exactly the same time.

Your luggage was still in Yaoyorozu’s car, and Katsuki was not going to let you ride while wearing zero protective gear. "Not tonight. I gotta…" At that moment, Yaoyorozu and Jirou came outside, the latter holding a large slice of birthday cake in a clear reusable container. Perfect timing.

“Bakugo-san!” Yaoyorozu waved to the two of you. "Todoroki-san said you asked for some cake to take with you. And we still have (y/n)-san's suitcase in my car. We were about to head home as well and wanted to catch you before you left."

"Suitcase?" Ah fuck, right. You actually brought shit with you, so riding with him was out even if you had the right gear. "If you're heading out anyway, can she ride with you and just drop her and her stuff off at my building?" Yaoyorozu was smart enough to pick up on the unspoken addition to his growing list of owed favors.

She looked down at Jirou who nodded. "Sure, it's no trouble. I think I still have your address in my texts somewhere, but send it to me again."

"Ya fine with riding with them?" Katsuki asked, pulling out his phone. "We can take the bike out tomorrow. Show you the city, just like I promised."

That hypothetical "what if" scenario about how much he'd spoil you if he had the chance was about to come true. By the way your eyes lit up, you hadn't forgotten, either. "I'd like that."

Yaoyorozu glanced at her reflection in the rear view mirror as Jirou slid in beside her. "I figured today was gonna be busy, but not this much," Jirou joked while balancing the cake on her lap. "How does a relaxing bath sound when we get home? We can use that new tea blend you got the other day."

Her answered smile was tired, but fond. "That sounds perfect, Kyoka." Both women turned to see you presumably saying your goodbyes to Bakugo as he sat on his bike, his boots planted firmly on the driveway to keep his balance steady.

"Drive safe, OK?"

"What, think I'll crash? Not a damn chance."

"Just accept my concern, birthday boy." You tried to flick his forehead, but a quick hand swatted you away before easily sliding your wrist between his thumb and index finger and letting his hand slot with yours as gravity swayed it back and forth. Just a twenty minute separation was proving tough to swallow now that he had you back, temporary though it was. Like he'd speed off and arrive at his apartment only for you to never meet him there. But you knew his faraway looks by now and squeezed his fingers to make him feel just how real you were. "I'll see you there. Love you."

He was never gonna get used to that, but he didn't want to. Each repeat was like hearing it for the first time - minus all the miserable heartbreak. But now, he could say it back. "Mm. Love you, too."

"Aww, that's kinda cute," teased Jirou as she leaned across her girlfriend to mentally snapshot the two of you kissing. It reminded her of getting caught making out in the U.A. dorm kitchen by Sero and Ojiro. She was too embarrassed to look them in the eyes for a week.

"Kyoka! Don't stare!"

"You're staring too!"

"N-no I'm not! I'm just waiting for (y/n)-san," she argued before turning away right as Bakugo was adjusting his helmet, his gloved middle finger waving in the air towards Jirou who just laughed. The two women quickly composed themselves as you opened the car back door.

Buckling your seatbelt, you gave a small wave to Katsuki who revved his bike engine before pulling out of the driveway and disappearing down the lamplit street.

You took a deep breath and slumped into the car seat before seeing Yaoyorozu and Jirou staring at you over their shoulders. "Uh… thanks for driving me. And everything else, today. Again." Having strangers haul you around town and depend on them for everything… no wonder Katsuki's short temper was pushed to the limit during his first few weeks staying with you.

"It's no problem," Jirou reassured as Yaoyorozu pulled out of the driveway. "Bakugo's place isn't super out of the way. Considering we probably ask more of him than he does any of us, it's the least we can do."

Self-sufficient to a fault. At least you felt somewhat prepared with what you brought with you.

Most of the drive was silent. Yaoyoru and Jirou spoke in hushed voices over the phone directions as you gawked at the towering neon lights of late night Tokyo that closed in with the residential neighborhood left behind.

The main glow of the city centered around a tall building that you guessed was Tokyo Tower. Although you appeared to be within city limits, Yaoyorozu drove along the outskirts and avoided the condensed city core. Bright neon signs embellished shop windows and jumbo screens cycling through product ads were plastered on corners just high enough to catch in your peripheral vision as you passed. Sirens cried in the distance and you wondered if a villain was causing mayhem between the maze of claustrophobic structures. The clasp on your purse became the perfect fidget toy for your twitchy fingers.

As the car slowed to a stop at a red light, you looked out the window to see none other than Katsuki parked one lane over and one car ahead of you; the grenade on the back of his helmet made him easy to pinpoint. Somehow, Yaoyorozu had caught up with him which meant you'd probably arrive at about the same time. He must've noticed in his side mirror because he swiveled his head, headlights and neon reflecting off his helmet, to look right at the car. Even though the opaque visor, you felt his stare before the light turned green - no, blue? Either way, it wasn't long before you lost sight of him again as the bike sped off with practiced ease.

How the hell did they catch up to me? He wasn't a speed demon on the bike, but sitting behind some old hag who should've had her license taken away a decade ago would've dragged down anyone else when he could slip through shitty late night traffic. While he didn't want to keep you waiting, not after six agonizing months, there was something he needed to pick up before inviting you into his home for the next six days.

Rounding a familiar corner, his building stood a few blocks away on the left. All he needed to do was park in the garage, run into the konbini next door, and wait outside for you to pull up. Easy.

Was the garage door always this slow to open?! His knee bobbed impatiently before he slid under the creaking door while ducking his head. His spot, the one he always parked in, was predictably empty. None of them were assigned, but there was an unacknowledged, collective agreement between tenants not to take anyone else's space. Besides, no one was dumb enough to park near his bike, anyway.

Once parked, Katsuki slid off his helmet and shook his head like a wet dog to dislodge the flattened hair… then skidded back to check his appearance in the side mirror. Good enough.

With helmet in hand, he strode through the lot and shoved his wallet against the reader before shouldering open the door leading into the main lobby. Now, all he had to do was-

"Welcome back, Dynamight." The ever-present Takahata tossed out a greeting from his desk. Katsuki never saw anyone else watching over the building. Hell, did the guy ever leave that damn desk? Maybe it had to do with his quirk. Katsuki never bothered to ask.

Waving over his shoulder, he stomped across the polished tile to exit back out onto the street. But no sooner had he walked ten paces when Yaoyorozu's car pulled up next to the curb, Jirou spying him through the glass. So much for running a quick errand before you arrived; it wasn't a big deal if you accompanied him, anyway.

When the car door opened and your heels swung down to meet the sidewalk, it really, finally hit him that you'd switched places: he, totally unprepared, was letting you live with him. Share his space, his food, his routine… fuck, was his bathroom clean?!

A honking car blazing down the road made his eyes snap back to the present, landing on you digging in the trunk for something. Way to be a good host, Katsuki.

Before you could drag the suitcase out of the car, he leaned over you, picked it up by a handle on the side, and set it upright on the sidewalk. It wasn't heavy, but he'd packed smaller bags for longer trips in the past and wondered if you'd sat on it just to get it to zip.

You patted his arm before waving for Jirou to roll down her window so you could thank her and Yaoyorozu for a final time. Maybe you could ask Katsuki for a way to show your appreciation with more than just words. Of course, they brushed it off as no big deal - it was a big deal - as a hand came from behind to rest next to yours on the window opening.

He boxed you in and extended his own rare display of gratitude before Jirou held out the forgotten container of cake. Holding it close, you waved them off into the night with his chest at your back. It was just you and Katsuki now under the illuminated sidewalk. You turned to him with a tired smile, but the fancy-looking building behind him pulled your attention away. The flawless white exterior, covered balconies, and crystal clear glass entryway exuded luxury and comfort; it wasn't Yaoyorozu's mansion, but if he lived here, then his place was no doubt bigger and nicer than what you were used to back home.

"Hey." Before you could step towards the building, Katsuki slid an arm around your waist, his lips brushing against your hair before leading you away from the building. You grabbed your suitcase handle from him as you followed and wondered if your assumption was wrong before realizing he was headed towards an open shop on the corner with an orange, green, red, and white striped sign stretched across the top of the brick walls.

The sliding doors opened with a pleasant ding while you kept pace with Katsuki. Aisles and aisles lined with boxes, bags, bottles, and baked goods all crammed in a corner store that appeared deceptively compact from the outside. Even a common convenience store held novelty while visiting an unfamiliar country.

It was easy for Katsuki to find what was looking for considering he stopped by this konbini at least once a week since moving in next door. The last minute snacks before a long patrol or a fresh box of bandages before returning home made him a regular customer; after a while, the things he bought in regular rotation never seemed to be low in stock.

Behind him, the sound of your suitcase wheels rolling across the floor tiles in perfect repetition set him at ease. You were within reach. While in his world, it was his responsibility to keep you safe; lucky you, saving people was in his job description.

The late hour meant there were probably as many customers in the whole store as there were employees working. Four, maybe five, the two of you included. He only passed one person crouched in front of a display to restock a low shelf on his march down the personal hygiene aisle. Recalling the hellish embarrassment he'd felt when you'd tasked him with picking out condoms was as predictable as it was laughable. The last time he bought some was over three, maybe close to four years ago. Now, it only took him a few seconds to grab what he needed without distress - being able to read the fucking packaging did help, though.

With his helmet still tucked under one arm, he turned to find you looking every bit like the tourist you were. Eyes scanning across completely mundane items no doubt trying to decipher what they were if the packaging didn't make it obvious, you finally noticed him staring and smiled in that same pleased way you used to whenever he untwisted his tongue long enough to say something sincere. Those tiny, silent gestures were some of the most missed.

Heading towards the register with you at his side, Katsuki paused in front of a section of savory snacks and grabbed a small bag of his favorite extra spicy chips. He felt a tug on his arm as you hooked your elbows together, keeping him in place as you looked over the snacks, too. If you wanted one of everything just to try it, he'd hand you his platinum card and keep his mouth shut just to make you happy. But no, you didn't load your arms up with everything you could carry. Instead, you picked up a canister of chocolate and vanilla wafer cookies with little dancing pandas on the label. He snickered at how predictable you were before grabbing the tin and tugging you along towards the front of the store.

Lucky for Katsuki, the chatty older clerk that always held a one-way conversation with him wasn't around. You continued holding his arm as he tossed his things onto the counter. Condoms and snacks: the late night birthday essentials.

The cashier rang everything up while he dug in his back pocket for his phone. He didn't need his wallet half the time since most places took quick and easy payment through phones so long as you didn't carry around an outdated brick.

The air was crisp as he led you back outside to finally go home. All he had to do was make it past Takahata and he'd be fine.

The front doors opened for him with you close behind, your suitcase wheels skipping over the tile gaps in a quicker pattern compared to the konbini floor. Expectantly, no one was around except for Takahata who looked up to welcome him back like he always did. "Good to see you back, Dynamight- oh." Pause. "You have a guest?" Takahata was quick to slip back into his usual composed and polite self, smiling as the two of you approached the elevator past the front desk.

Still, his obvious surprise made Katsuki bite the meat of his cheek. "Yes," he grit out with you still close behind and none the wiser to their passing exchange. "Staying with me for a week. That fine?" It wasn't a question of permission, but one of formality.

"Of course," Takahata answered with a nod. There was no reason for him to interrogate you, not when Katsuki had been living here for years and never caused trouble… aside from those idiots busting down his door, but that was their fault, not his.

You waved your fingers in greeting to the man behind the front desk. The exchange between him and Katsuki must not have been important since he didn't stop to chat. No apartment you'd lived in had an on-duty security guard, so the upscale style wasn't just for show.

Katsuki punched the elevator call button with the side of his fist, causing the metal doors to slide open. You rolled your suitcase across the threshold, yawned, and let your head rest on his shoulder before the elegant lobby disappeared behind the closing doors.

Takahata, now alone, chuckled to himself. My, how unexpected. Quite an exciting night. Good for Dynamight-san. The Hero never had guests outside of other Heroes because Takahata had seen every single person that came in and out of the building for the past eight years without fail. So, anyone new - especially if they accompanied someone as busy and stern as the #2 Hero in Japan - stood out.

Waiting in the elevator, you felt his free arm snake around your waist and watched his nostrils flare through your lashes. After all these months, you still remembered how to read him. There was nothing for Katsuki to worry about; you weren't a dream or nightmare or anything else that would vanish before morning.

Only when the doors slid open did you glance at the panel to notice you were on the top floor. You wondered how the gleaming city must look from his window, envious of the imagined view compared to your own parking lot.

He nudged you out of the elevator while you dug in your purse for the translator. Carrying a small bag meant things never got lost at the very bottom. You balanced pulling your suitcase, carrying the birthday cake, and fiddling with the translator buttons as Katsuki slid a keyring out of his pocket. Maybe you'd expended all your nervous energy earlier, but being able to finally rest was higher on your priority list than snooping through all of Katsuki's things or judging his decoration preferences.

"Shit." As if realizing something for the first time, he hung his head with the key in the lock. "When you go in, do not wander around. Just gonna make sure it's not a fuckin' mess because I wasn't expecting guests," he said accusingly, to which you just stuck out your tongue and shrugged. "But I've got a roommate. Sorta. And she's a bitch when it comes to literally everyone who isn't me. And still hates me most of the time."

Confused, you looked to him for answers, but he was already pushing his way inside. A… roommate? He didn't mention it earlier, and most of his closest friends seemed to be at the party, so who could it be? And why would he live with someone who apparently hates his guts?

All your questions went unanswered as you traced his steps into the dark apartment. With the flick of a switch, the lights illuminated the genkan where he was already kicking off his boots. Well, shit. You knew his place would be nice, but it looked more like a display home set up for flattering photos than a lived-in space.

"Just," he started as he stepped further into the living room before turning right back around to grab your suitcase and hoist it over his shoulder with little effort. "Stay here. If she comes towards you, don't make any sudden movements. And-"

"Katsuki."

"What?"

"Calm the fuck down." For someone so self aware, he seemed oblivious to just how frazzled he was acting. "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to make things perfect. I'm just here to spend time with you."

His nostrils flared again, but you got your point across. If you could survive him dropping in while you were asleep in your underwear, then there should be no issues having his girlfriend stay over for a week. You watched him suck on his teeth and just out his bottom lip that threatened to twist into a smirk. "Don't move."

God, you were so- You didn't even have to try to read him so easily and it drove him fucking crazy. But he loved it. Loved you. "Stupid," he growled through a grin as he stomped down the long hallway towards his bedroom.

He pushed open his door and swung your bag off his shoulder to sit against the wall. A moment passed as he stared into his shadowed closet, eyes cast down where he knew your other bag - the one he'd originally taken with him - lay neatly among pressed shirts and spare gear.

Tossing his helmet, convenience store bag, and leather jacket on the bed, he wondered briefly if his sheets were clean before remembering he'd changed them a few days prior because someone decided it was the perfect place to cough up a hairball. Next, he swiped up discarded clothes around the room to drop into his hamper. He knew you wouldn't care about something so trivial, but he cared, dammit! You were right that he was far too wound up when the hard part was in the past and all he needed to do was enjoy your company. But he was gonna enjoy it without feeling like a slob.

He listened down the hallway for any sign of trouble before moving onto the master bathroom. While it wasn't the absolute cleanest, it was acceptable considering there was no time to scrub the whole room since keeping it hygienic was essential to prevent mold and mildew.

Japanese bathrooms were far more elaborate than the average bathroom in other countries. Temperature-controlled soaking tubs, options for dehumidifying the room or drying your clothes, heated toilet seats, and digital touch pads for all of it. Of course, Katsuki's place had all of the modern comforts plus a few extras that he didn't even use. The bathroom was a big selling point for the apartment considering he needed somewhere to unwind and relax his muscles after rough days.

Scanning the room for anything worth hiding, he spotted an open bottle of lube on the counter. He snatched it with a curse and dropped it in the nightstand drawer next to his bed. Not that you'd care since sex wasn't the same worry it was in the beginning, but whatever; he was too accustomed to hiding all of his personal things for the sake of privacy, and Kirishima's earlier admission did little to assuage that reflex.

"Oh, Kaaaaaaaatsuki!"

Hearing you call his name had him realizing he hadn't seen Princess Explosion Murder since returning home. Shit. Katsuki stomped down the hallway and hoped he wasn't about to find you fighting off his-

"So, why didn't you tell me you got a cat? Hm?...What?" Just like he'd ordered, you hadn't moved from the genkan, but the whole scene made… no sense. You knelt down with your hand outstretched while his terror of a cat rubbed her face against your knuckles, her fluffy tail swishing back and forth in the air.

He ran the pad of his thumb against his bottom lip, totally baffled at what he was seeing. "... What'd you do to-? She hates everyone."

You just looked between the purring cat and Katsuki and shrugged. "I doubt that. I just did the slow blinking thing and let her come to me. You're so pretty and fluffy, yes you are! Such a sweet kitty… your dad is just making things up, yes he is."

To be honest, he should've seen this coming. You with your otherworldly ability to befriend the most ill-tempered person around: first him, now his demonic cat. The absurdity of it all made him snort out a laugh, but it switched to a hacking cough when you called him a "dad". "What the fuck. Do not call me her dad or any equivalent."

Ignoring him, you stood up and gestured down at Princess. "You still haven't told me her name- wait! Let me guess… mm, Snowball is too cliché. Knowing you, it must be something ridiculous and over the top."

"Tch. You'll never figure it out, but it fits this bratty cat perfectly." As if knowing she was being insulted, Princess leapt to the back of the couch and stared at him with what he could only describe as unfiltered disgust. He was used to it at this point, though, and sneered right back. "Gimme this," he said while taking the cake slice in your hand and walking it to the fridge.

"Your apartment is nice." You followed him into the kitchen and soaked up what you couldn't see from standing in the genkan. Just like he mentioned, it was much bigger than your own home and could've passed for a single story house from the living room and kitchen alone. "And such a big kitchen… oh, before I forget, did you like the hot sauce?"

With the cake put away, he closed the fridge with a shoulder lean and turned to you. "What're you talking about? What hot sauce?"

You reached across the counter to examine one of the many spice bottles lined up on a matte black floating shelf. Despite the organized minimalism evident in his personal design choices, little details made clear exactly who lived here. "The one Uraraka was supposed to give you during the holidays. Wait, don't tell me you never got it."

Poking out his bottom lip, Katsuki narrowed his eyes until they cut back to the fridge. He yanked it open, rattled some bottles and jars around until he pulled out a familiar bottle. "This? This hot sauce? Uraraka gave me some story about a fan wanting me to have this, but- damn, I knew something about the taste was familiar…You made this with the peppers that made me sick, didn't you?"

"I mean, yes," you admitted without shame while stepping closer to examine the bottle that now looked half empty. "I was worried you wouldn't like it, but glad to see I was wrong. And I tasted it before giving it to her, so I know how spicy it is. I think this was the… second batch I made."

He twirled the unlabeled bottle around to mix the settled contents while shaking his head. "You're ridiculous." His eyes flickered from the homemade hot sauce back up to you, tilted grin and all. "Was she right, though?"

You knew that tone, dipped in his own specialized brand of fiendish teasing paired with a small side of bashful consideration. Leaning back against the black marble counter, a flash of déjà vu tickled at your memory. "Right about what?"

One step, two, three. If you were a stranger, having a scarred man with burning eyes lock you against the counter between his arms might've been intimidating. But your composure remained steady. "Are you a fan?"

"Of the one and only Bakugo Katsuki," you began as you rested your arm against his and let your fingers fiddle with the fabric rolled snug around his forearms. "Or of you the Hero? Or both?"

You felt the muscle twitch under your palm while he hovered as if simmering on a low, steady heat. "I'm no different out there than I am in here. No fake persona. Me an' the Hero Dynamight are one and the same."

As you listened to the translator, something sounded unfamiliar. You tapped his forearm with a nail and said, "Dynamight? Dynamight, like the- wait, is that your Hero name?"

"Yeah? Technically, it's longer than that, but got shortened- whatever, you know that."

"No, I don't. You never told me."

Now, it was his turn to be confused. "I definitely did."

"Uh, no?" Incredulous, you poked him in the chest. "I would've definitely remembered considering how big a fan I am," you argued, tossing his words back in his face.

When it came to you, Katsuki was all bark and no bite. His lip curled as he squished your cheeks with his hand. Maybe he knew he was wrong and just didn't want to admit it because he missed the pointless bickering as much as you did. Whatever the reason, you didn't mind his softening glare rimmed with crisp eyeliner. "Dummy." The way his eyes lingered on your puckered lips lined with the faint tint of faded lipstick made his intention obvious.

Katsuki pressed his mouth to yours while he loosened his grip on your cheeks. The edge of the counter dug into your back as he stepped fully into your space, his breath tasting of mint flavored gum. You dug your fingertips into his tense forearm as your eyes closed and mouth opened invitingly.

Calloused fingers traced the profile of your jaw down your neck, goosebumps accompanying the shiver down your spine as his canines tugged at your bottom lip. To refamiliarize yourself with his taste and touch and smell, to open the map you'd drawn from traveling his peaks and valleys in what seemed both like a lifetime ago and no time at all meant everything. His heart was finally bare, ripe, and within reach.

Your pulse was warm and rapid between his lips and across his tongue as he pressed his hips to yours and fisted the cherry fabric of your dress. There was time for softness and patience, but that time wasn't now. Not when-

CLATTER

Both of you stilled. Katsuki ground his molars together and huffed through his nose before slowly craning his neck to glare over his shoulder with your fingers still gripping the top fastened button of his shirt.

A green plastic cup rolled across the kitchen floor before stopping at the edge of a growing puddle of water.

"Mrow."

The culprit sat staring at the two of you, the tip of her tail flicking over the edge of the counter. Katsuki sneered and you snickered in his ear. Getting cockblocked by his own fucking cat... I hate you.

"Oi," he snapped. "You know you're not allowed on the damn counter!" Twisting away from you, he hissed out a vulgar string of curses and slammed his palms down on the marble. The intimidating tactic worked, sending Princess Explosion Murder hopping to the floor with a chirp.

"Katsuki! Don't be mean." Coming up behind him, you lightly flicked him on the side of the head before picking the cup off the floor. "She's a cat. Cats knock things over if you leave them sitting out."

You didn't know that brat of a cat like he did. The cute and innocent act was just a front before she revealed her true nature when you least expected it. Sure, maybe she'd become more comfortable around him over time. And yes, maybe the scratches on his hands and arms had finally begun to fade. But deep down, she was still a menace, just like him.

Not wanting to start an argument over something so small, he huffed before snatching a dish towel and tossing it over the spill. "Anyway," he said while his foot led the towel in a circle. "It's still my birthday for about…forty minutes." For the first time in years, Katsuki wasn't eager for his birthday to end just yet. "Ya want a quick apartment tour or what?"

You swiveled on your heel and scanned the kitchen and living room. There were photos lined up on a bookshelf you wanted to ask him about. The minimalist, modern style coupled with specks of his life and personality begged to be studied. And of course, the still-unnamed cat who stared at you from a tall cat tree in the corner no doubt had an interesting backstory. But you had time; not a lot, but you could ask about all these things and more tomorrow.

"Lead on, Dynamight," you affirmed, holding out your hand for him to take. Without hesitating, Katsuki reached across the counter and seized your fingers to pull you behind him with a small, satisfied grin. A laugh bubbled out of you as he dragged you down the hallway in his cute little house slippers.

When he said quick, he meant it. Despite opening up just about every door leading directly to the hall, you had a generous thirty seconds to look around each room before he insisted on showing you the next. One was empty aside from one of those fancy robot litter boxes and some toys, another was an office covered in a thin layer of dust, and the most used room was filled with well-loved workout gear: a punching bag, a rowing machine, a rack of hand weights, etc.

Even his bathrooms were fancy; not quite as extravagant as Yaoyrozu's, but certainly the nicest apartment bathrooms you'd ever seen. "Unfair," you murmured, jealous of the simple advancements that appeared commonplace in most Japanese bathrooms. "What's it like having a tub big enough to actually relax in?"

Katsuki snorted. "Pretty damn nice. But I don't use this one much. The one attached to my bedroom is bigger.”

“Bigger?” Did he have a jacuzzi or hot tub or what? “Seeing all this, I’m kinda surprised you didn’t complain more about my cramped little apartment.”

He looked almost offended with matching slanted lips and brow. "I wasn't gonna complain about you givin’ me a place to stay. Maybe when I was a bratty teen, but not so much now.”

Aside from that first stressful week, he really didn’t comment at all on your mismatched furniture or lack of space. Honestly, your apartment was cleaner when he was there compared to when he wasn’t. “Fair. But really, your place is very nice. Kinda big for just you, though.”

You turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking more solemn than you expected. He shrugged, the weight visible on his broad shoulders. "Shacked up with Kirishima after we graduated, and Kami was basically a roommate who didn't pay rent with how often he crashed there. But I like my own space."

So much left unsaid. You padded back across the cool, white floor to mirror him. Under the fluorescent lighting, his exhaustion was more apparent, like he'd aged at least a year rather than six months. "That's something I like about you. Loud quirk, loud opinions, loud mouth." He couldn't argue with the truth as he rolled his eyes. "And you're still fine just, y'know, sitting with silence. I could lay on the couch and read and you'd cook and– and I really missed it. You. All of it."

Katsuki's knee bounced as he pulled his lip between his teeth and stared, searching your face for something only he could see. "Yeah. And you're right. This place has more space than I need. Just didn't realize it 'til you came along."

The lump in your throat grew the longer his eyes lingered. "As much as I admire your guest bathroom, can we finish up the tour now?"

He hummed before backing out of the doorway with small, slow steps. You followed him down the hall while he ignored the rest of the unexplored rooms and pushed open a final door at the end of the hall on the right. "Here's my– hey! Little fucker."

Poking your head around the corner, you had little time to take in the one room you'd seen so far that actually looked lived-in before spotting the Unnamed Cat using your suitcase as a scratching post. "Hmm, well that's not nice." As Katsuki tried to shoo her away, she instead climbed on top of the bag and sat her fluffy butt down on the handle. "Alrighty, let's go Miss Troublemaker," you said before attempting to do the same, but even your gentle hand earned a swat that would have left a nice scratch had you not pulled away. "Wow, and I defended you earlier. I see how it is."

Rather than fight a cat to take back your bag, you bent down and pushed it across the floor with her still sitting on top before letting it coast right out of the doorway. "Sorry! Be nicer next time!" She meowed as you closed the door with a wave. "Maybe don’t scratch my things next- what?”

Katsuki stood with a shit-eating grin, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “Told you she was a bitch," he bragged. "But if you leave your bag out there with her, she'll shred it out of spite."

"As long as she can't get inside it, then it's fine since the bag is old, anyway. And just tell me her name so I don't have to spend all night guessing," you conceded while plopping down on the end of his bed. Your palm slid across the plush, dark comforter as you cocked your head to the side.

"Give up on guessing after one name? Weak. But fine. Princess Explosion Murder. Don't fuckin' gimme that look! She's a spoiled brat filled with malice disguised as a cat."

Your shoulders shook as you heaved with laughter at how beautifully awful the name was; only Bakugo "Dynamight" Katsuki whose failed attempt at naming himself King Explosion Murder as a teenager would've carried on the legacy through his very first pet. "Y… you're the one who spoiled her!" Trying to talk through the giggling made your chest hurt, and his exasperated grimace just added to the hilarity. "Her collar has rhinestones on it! Princess Explosion Murder, oh my god… I love you so much."

As you tried to catch your breath, Katsuki's hand groped the wall behind him for the light switch and dimmed the bulbs low; one of those small quality of life things he never used, but was now grateful for. His steps were quiet as he made his way to the edge of the bed before digging one knee into the mattress and shading you from the ceiling glow, hands on either side of your head. It felt like no time had passed at all as he hovered, watching your eyes crinkle and cheeks swell. How easily he fell back into old routines of chatter and jabs that often ended in delighted silence. At last, you looked up at him, smile still wide and bright and full of-

"You swear you're real?" Despite everything, believing you were really here still seemed too good to be true. Too much of a dream for reality to uphold.

The corners of your lips dragged down into something more solemn, but your gaze remained steady with your hands on your chest gripping the translator. "Yeah, Katsuki. I'm real. Are you?"

His fingers clawed the sheets as he licked his bone-dry lips. "Yeah," was all he managed before you reached a hand forward with careful grace. Goosebumps pebbled his skin as you caressed his jaw, his cheek, his hair.

“Show me,” you implored with soft words and hard eyes.

So, he did.

While the last time the two of you were together was saturated with slow and memorable passion, you met his lustful fervor with hunger of your own. Six months of dreaming, imagining, and yearning for each other culminated in clawing hands and starving mouths hunting to whet their appetites. Knocking teeth went ignored in your fervor to grope every inch of warm, bare skin you could reach, but it wasn't enough. You swore you heard a button fly and hit the wall when he flung his shirt to the floor, desperation mixed with adrenaline to press heartbeat to heartbeat.

The bed was unfamiliar and big. The room, too. Everything was foreign, except for him. You knew him then and you know him now and you wish with everything - more than you could ever fathom - that you would know him in the future. Every lifetime, every universe where you and he may exist. Praying with blistered hands until your knees were raw and bloody to never forget the fiery salvation of loving Bakugo Katsuki.

Piece by piece, clothing piled onto the floor, save for your dress. He took care with the back zipper, fingers slowing to let the fabric fall away before folding it with deft hands and draping it across the back of a chair in the corner. You wouldn’t have cared much if it got a few wrinkles, but the sweetness of his consideration was endearing. The dress you hated before he came along now reminded you of his ruby eyes that you'd yearned to see one more time. He said you were beautiful in it, and now you felt beautiful out of it, too.

Katsuki found solace in your thighs, your hips, your ass, wherever his hands could grip after flipping you over to sit right on his face. Six months? No, it seemed more like a lifetime of waiting led the fervor that surged through him while you folded your arms against the headrest of his bed and whined into the crook of your elbow. He put that sharp tongue of his to work and left a trail of finger indents behind - evidence to find tomorrow that tonight was as real as any other.

Sweat pooled behind your knees as Katsuki kept you right where he wanted you. He countered every attempt at hovering with a breathy grunt, yanking you back down as if insulted at the miniscule distance you tried to create.

Katsuki was a sun: hot, searing, bright with energy and passion. A man made of starfire and kindling just itching to combust under ripe conditions. The way his mouth moved - without hesitation and burning with hunger - confirmed his piety. You were the idol of his worship. His devotion. His tongue pushed hymns from your lips, eyes closed in ecstatic prayer.

"A-ah Katsuki… fuck, I'm-!" To drown in your waves was holy bliss, holding you in place with sweaty palms while your thighs squeezed and back arched. Glancing down between your legs, he was already staring up at you, eyes dark and blown wide with lust as if committing your ecstasy to memory. Of course, he wouldn't be Katsuki if he didn't throw in a smug smirk, too, boastful even when his mouth was full and messy. Panting and whimpering through your teeth as you edged towards overstimulation, you reached down, grabbed a fistful of blonde hair, and tugged so you could lift yourself from his greedy mouth.

Eyes rolling back for only a moment, Katsuki groaned as the growing need between his legs throbbed. Even though the day had been long for him and even longer for you, the room sweltered with lecherous and passionate energy. With your hand still in his hair, you leveraged the headboard to straddle his hips and crash your mouth into his, lapping up the stickiness that covered the lower half of his face; he'd always been a messy eater, why would this be any different?

He hissed as you slid against his length, neglected from focusing on you and your pleasure. But the way you scraped his chest, skipping the teasing in favor of wordlessly begging for more, as much as he could give. You had his love, wrapped up like red silk shibari with all of its tidy knots and careful weaving. You could have his body, too.

Growling in your ear, he groped the crease where your ass met your thighs and decided a riposte was due, flipping your positions. You landed with a squeak as your head hit his pillow, but quickly recovered to wrap your arms around his back. He just needed-

Fuck, where is it?! Leaning up on his hands, Katsuki glanced around the bed looking for the konbini bag while you scraped along his skin, whining and trying to pull him back down. With reluctance, he untangled his legs from yours and almost dove over the side of the bed before spotting the bag and his helmet. Goddamn cat must’ve tried to score a late night snack without him noticing.

In one swift motion, he snatched the box of condoms out of the bag and tore it open with his teeth. The box and condoms scattered onto the floor as he destroyed the foil wrapping before finally getting the condom on. And despite putting up the bottle of lube barely an hour ago, he spaced out for a good two seconds trying to remember where the fuck he put it while you slid over and tugged on his arm, eyes pleading in the darkness to hurry the hell up, already!

When the neurons in his brain began firing properly, several things on his bedside table threatened to topple over when he yanked open the drawer to grab the bottle of lube. It dripped onto the floor and edge of the sheets before he tossed it somewhere unseen. He ran his tongue along the corner of his mouth as he lunged over you, slick hands pinning your wrists above your head.

Your chest heaved and mouth parted below him as he slotted between your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. He felt your pulse throbbing under his palms, fingers grasping at warm air circulating around the closed room. You were so fucking beautiful and just… here. Not an obscene daydream. If you were, this would immediately go from the best to worst birthday in recent memory. The way your hips shifted urged him to come closer.

So, he did.

The way you bit your kiss-swollen lips begged for him to dip down and meet them with his own.

So, he did.

And you had to do nothing at all for his hands to slide up and intertwine his fingers with yours. This time, his love would not be silent.

The mattress had moved off-center from the frame and slats. The sheets had all bunched up at the end, cascading down into the floor. The heavy pants, raucous moans, and salacious slapping of sweaty skin had quieted. All that remained was Katsuki's breath in your ear, his chin tucked into your neck, and slowing heartbeat heavy against your back. Katsuki wrung you dry of every speck of energy you'd scraped together after barely sleeping for the past forty-or-so hours. All you wanted to do was pee and sleep for however long he let you.

Wriggling your arm free from under his muscle-heavy weight, you gave his backside a light tap to try and get him up. When he didn't move, you wondered if he'd fallen asleep without even pulling out. But eventually, he peeled himself from your back with a raspy grunt. Cool air sent goosebumps along your exposed skin that sounded like Velcro when he pushed himself up from the mix of dried sweat, lube, and saliva covering both of you. Hissing when he pulled completely out, you clenched at the emptiness right as Katsuki flopped next to you, arms outstretched and limp. Knowing you'd fall asleep if you didn't move, you forced yourself up on shaky arms and moved to balance yourself, but Katsuki shot out a hand to grab your arm and pull you back down so he could kiss you without even bothering to open his eyes. Like he knew exactly where you'd be. Like he'd always know.

When he heard the bathroom door close, Katsuki sat up with bleary vision and wiped at his face. Fuck, what are wild birthday… he glanced at the clock nearby, squinting to read 12:37 glowing in the dark. He nearly slipped when standing up from the spilled lube and wrapped condoms spread all over the floor. "Fuckin'..." Too tired to bother cleaning it up right then, he grabbed a towel from the hamper and tossed it over the mess before opening the bedroom door with a yawn and promptly stubbing his toe on the bag you left sitting right in the middle of the hallway. "Shit!," he cursed, sucking in a breath through his teeth before kicking the suitcase into the bedroom, letting it roll to a stop as he stumbled down the hallway to clean up.

Far too exhausted to do any of your normal bedtime tasks, you dragged your feet across the floor before turning out the bathroom light. You wouldn't die from not brushing your teeth or washing your face for one night. Was it terrible to sleep in makeup? Yes, but whatever. Sleep came first.

You fell into bed and grabbed the crooked sheets, pulling them up to your chin while burying your face in the single pillow that remained on the bed. Already feeling yourself drifting off, you felt the bed dip before a warm arm snaked around your middle. You buried your face in Katsuki's scarred chest and draped your own arm over his waist. Waiting six months just for the opportunity to fall asleep with him again. To smother in his scent of burning caramel and musky wood. To whisper into his skin. Yeah. Yeah, it was worth it.

What was the… ah, right. "Dai suki da yo, Kat," you mumbled with your last bit of drained energy. With his heart pressed against your cheek, you kissed his skin stained with dried, salty sweat. Katsuki’s legs languidly tangled with yours while he buried his chin in the crown of your hair.

“Mh. Dai suki da yo…” Quiet. Sleepy. But still, you heard it. You wished you could hear it every day. Every night. Forever.

___________

ummmm here u go byeeee plz kudos and comment and share with ur friends and tell me how the wait was worth it so i can cry a lil :')))) please follow my tumblr https://thetrashywritingwitch.tumblr.com bc i live on tumblr, it's my main website. come talk to me, send me asks, and keep up to date with what i'm doing do yall dont think i'm dead :))))) ALSO since this has become an issue int he past year: DO NOT EVER USE MY WORK IN AI OR TEXT GENERATORS!! I don't consent to anyone "finishing" or "continuing" my fics through AI in any form!!!! AND DO NOT use my work in any youtube/asmr/tiktok videos without my written consent!!! you can mention me and link back to my work and post about how much you 💖 my fics hehhe BUT you cannot do voice overs of my fics or anything like that, esp not for ad revenue or profit!!! ok fr byeeeeeee (no the fic isn't over or done we still have like six or so more chapters until the end 🥰)

Tagged list: @featherboawing @108052921 @bemyhero-academia @hentaidemon69 @makarovs-brat @alexparrsih @desia22 @justalittlecrazybutimok @trashqueenbitch @loverbug1123 @manq-fandoms @theworldsgreatestdisapointment @dabwithperkins @sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack @i-am-fandoms-and-satan @eternal-apricot @grumpbisexual @apsara-study @nyantodamax145 @bakuhoetoedoroki @stargazerunlimited @fairyf3v3r @the-abyss-of-fandoms @raeyn-muir @lilithbasically @spicywrites

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugo x reader #be still just for me #bsjfm #pro hero bakugou #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfic #my hero academia x reader #bnha imagines #mha fanfiction

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copperbadge · 1 year

Note

(not serious, just kinda wanted to talk to someone, you can delete it if you want)

The Facts, in eight bullets:

So it was 3.30am here and I was scrolling AO3, as one does when struck by the monster known as insomnia.

My bedroom is right next to my parents', with thin insulation between the walls, and although my dad works nights, my stepmom is a day-shifter. She also has insomnia, so I do try to be quiet on long nights.

My stepmom plays shows on low volume (a horror movie tonight, judging by the screams) in order to sleep. The insulation is thin, so I can hear it. It's not always horror movies (I hated her Big Bang Theory kick), and it doesn't usually keep me awake because once I manage to fall asleep, I stay asleep, so it's fine.

I'm autistic, and when I read funny things, I get really excited and tend to vocal-stim by repeating what I'm reading. It's not usually too loud, just a closed-mouth back-of-the-throat murmur, and sometimes I giggle a little bit. Still, though, I usually leave my headphones off so I can semi-control the noise level, because I get self-conscious.

Also, my stepmom and I both consider sleep precious, so I don't like interrupting her sleep unless it's really important.

I was reading a really funny slow-burn crossover fic where the two MCs have a Miraculous Ladybug-esque love square and are currently agonizing over their seemingly-unrequited crushes.

I had my headphones on and was playing white noise, in order to drown out the sweet, dulcet, televised tones of axe murder in the next room.

I got so loud, my stepmother came to see who the hell I was talking to.

I'm not in trouble. She was awake, thankfully (unthankfully?). But I think I'll play my puzzle game for now. And maybe get a glass of water, my throat is hoarse.

So that's how my night is going, Sam. How's yours?

LOL well you sent this a while ago (sorry for the delay) but last night was my first night of three weeks without A/C -- they're doing construction on the roof where our evaps are, and had to switch them off for a few weeks -- and it wasn't awful but it certainly wasn't spectacular :P Mind you, the cats love it; I usually keep the condo around 73F in summer and now it's a toasty, mostly consistent 77F, plus it's dry because in order to keep it from getting any warmer I'm running the HVAC fan 24/7. They're very pleased by their new desert biome.

That sounds like at once both a super fun stim and also something that might be inconvenient for you at times, but I love the idea of you just reciting fanfic loud enough that your mother watching a HORROR FILM got up to see what the deal was :D

Talking of evening routines, there are a number of games/apps that I mess around with that aren't US-based or have weird evening-engagement metrics to hit, so a number of them "reset" after 7pm -- my merge-three game gives me new bonuses, Duolingo has an evening changeover where you can get extra achievements, one of my Wordle forks (Waffle) resets, etc. And I usually go to bed around 8pm. So I've taken to setting an alarm and calling 7pm the "Power Hour". But it's particularly amusing because I'll announce "POWER HOURRRRR" in an arcade-fighter/pro-wrestler voice, then immediately sit on the sofa with two cats and spend an hour playing phone games. Power Hour indeed.

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elliotts-personal-property · 5 months

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Here’s a question. If we are tying Joe to a car, what era are we going for?

And are we restricting it to cars or can it be any form of transport?

And just for an idea:

💖💖💖

You’re asking the real questions here😭💗

The real question is why aren’t we doing every era??

I’m making a list for the pros of each one:

1.) High ’N’ Dry Joe: I can pull and tug on his brown curls all I want🤭

2.) Pyromania Joe: He looks so subby, I mean LOOK AT THAT SMILE👀

3.) Self Titled/Modern Joe: This era has the most experience of course, and I feel like he would love being humiliated on the hood of a car🥵

As for the mode of transportation I think it can be any one really. The only thing is I feel like a motorcycle may be a bit difficult (but don’t think I’ll be easily deterred 😏🤭)

But why limit it to boats, cars, semis, and motorcycles? Let’s add planes into the mix too🥰

And it doesn’t have to be the hood of a car, it could be the roof too. There better not be any dents or scratches after the fact though.

Hopefully these were all the answers you were looking for, and thank you for all the pictures, they’re greatly appreciated🥰💗💗💗

#just to make this more iconic i wanna throw him on top of one of those double decker buses y’all have in the UK😭😭💗💗#that’s it we’ve officially gone off the deep end😭💗#SOMEBODY CHAIN HIM TO ANY VEHICLE RN‼️#kris’ thoughts #joe elliott #def leppard #asks

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elvenbeard · 1 year

Text

2076

"I'm tellin' ya, mano, this is only the beginning! A few months down the line we're gonna be Night City legends!"

"I think before I wanna be a legend I'd just like to start feelin' like myself again..."

The day Vince was sacked in November of 2076 was the newest low point of his life. He'd lost everything, from a job he was good at, financial security, to what he'd assumed had been friends. Over the course of the year his health had been on a steady decline, mentally and physically. His first so harmonious, almost too-perfect relationship with an older coworker had found an abrupt and bitter ending filled with betrayal. Jenkins' paranoia and revenge fantasies reached new heights, and several particularly precarious operations went wrong in a row. To cope with the stress, silence his depression and anxieties, and be able to keep up with his coworkers-turned-competitors' performance, Vince turned to substance abuse over the course of his last 6 months at Arasaka.

In Jackie's eyes, the termination of Vince's contract couldn't come soon enough, seeing his friend spiral and lose himself in the corporate mud more and more with each passing day.

Like many times before - even though this one had been Vince's highest fall so far - Jackie helped him back to his feet. He and his mother took Vince in and kept him company through his withdrawal from both self- and corporate-administered drugs. Slowly but surely he got better.

From the first day they'd known, Jackie had always urged Vince to consider teaming up as mercs. Together they'd be one hell of a duo, muscle and tech, street-smarts and corporate education, guns and hacking. They'd make it far in Night City's underground world in no time, or so he thought.

By 2076, Jackie was a respected Solo, particularly in Heywood, but still far from achieving his dreams of becoming a legend - and really, those had always been Jackie's dreams alone. Sure, Vince wanted to leave an impact and be remembered, not just fade away into the shadows, but who didn't? Dying in a blaze of glory though, never reaching age 30, just for the money and fame, for doing other people's dirty work? He never saw the appeal... but also, so far he'd failed to find a satisfying middleground.

By mid-December 2076 Vince had somewhat recovered, had been clean for a little over a month, but his cash started to run dry. The next time Jackie asked him to accompany him on a job - just a small one, a little favor for a choomba, nothin' dangerous or dramatic - Vince gave in and tagged along. "Just this once," he told himself, simultaneously looking for other job opportunities. He even considered going back into the corporate world, a smaller company, something less exhausting than Counterintel, maybe media, or a lowly techie position like Jenkins had intended for him originally.

But the small job went well, was fun, even. Jackie's enthusiasm had always been infectuous. After everything he'd done for Vince, he didn't think it fair to continue saying no to him and to something that indeed worked out better than he could have ever imagined... He still had no intentions of dying young, or a legend, but as Jackie put it: would be a shame to let all that Arasaka training go to waste, so why not use it to do some good with it, help themselves and others in their lives?

Vince through the years (6/9)

The set above is basically the followup to this VP comic I did a while ago, the evening after V's and Jackie's first job together.

As mentioned, Vince was never eager to be a merc, and by early 2077 he simply treats it as one of his many previous part-time jobs: a way to keep a roof above his head, food on the table, and make use of his skills somehow. Maybe do some good, or at least leave a positive impact on a single person's life after 4 years of corporate scheming.

He is sort of picky with the gigs he takes, always weighs pros and cons. Sometimes he takes a gig he usually wouldn't out of sheer curiosity. But thievery and sabotage, even rescue missions, are really his favourite things to do because they come closest to what he did for Arasaka predominantly.

It really is easy money with his skills and knowledge, and also usually non-violent. I think that would be the main reason why he decides to go on with the Konpeki Plaza Heist with Jackie in the end, despite having a bad gut feeling. With the information they have it seems like something just down his alley, and he's very confident that he did his best in setting everything up. His biggest mistake is really putting so much trust in Dex doing his part for the preparation of the heist.

Vince is really used to his superiors just supplying him with all necessary info, no questions asked - both back at Arasaka and with the fixers he's worked with at that point, mainly Regina and Wakako. Both are thorough and reliable, do their work, hold nothing back that could be useful. He is also used to his team-members speaking up if they think something feels off. But I think T-Bug is in a similar boat as him, confident that all will go as planned, in her mind already in Cyprus. And Jackie, who just really really wants this to happen so badly, does not speak up despite potentially having a bad feeling.

So, even though Vince feels like all of it sounds too good to be true, everyone else involved being so confident and presenting themselves so competent, in combination with Jackie's aforementioned enthusiasm, convinces him that his own worries may be unjustified. He's overthinking, this can't go wrong, they were all really thorough, they can count on each other... right?

He'll learn the hardest way possible that on the street the saying "every man for himself" is even more prevalent than in the corporate world in the end.

(CW below for drug abuse talk!)

Little sidenote re: Vince's substance abuse. I often put great emphasis on the fact that he neither smokes nor drinks, one of the many reasons why Johnny pisses him off so much by doing both regardless and repeatedly whenever he's in control of his body later. Not smoking is really just Vince's personal preference here, but he actually wouldn't mind drinking now and then - his body is really just against him on this. He can't process alcohol well and just gets drunk and nauseous really quickly, even from "just a beer" or "just a glass of wine". So he avoids it, not for moral high ground reasons but more "I dont wanna puke my guts out and have a headache for three days" reasons.

Since drinking and smoking are off the table when it comes to numbing himself through his worst time at Arasaka, drugs are the next best thing. Initally it was just downers and sleeping pills, but when those started affecting his performance during daytime, he picked up neuroboosters and other performance enhacing stuff. It was a constant struggle to balance this drug-cocktail out, in combination with the canonical stress-blockers Corpo!V is on during the start of the game.

In short, by the time Vince is kicked out, he's a walking pharmacy and needs some time to readjust to a life without being constantly on something. He's doing his best to remain clean once he gets there... and he hates that taking pills is the one thing he can do to silence Johnny, cause it brings back a lot of bad memories and associations. It's probably one of the main reasons why he ends up talking to him more instead of just blocking him out like he used to block out everything else for a while. And even though he never fully trusts him, this way he at least gets to understand him better and gains his trust and understanding in return.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cp2077 vp #cyberpunk vp #corpo v #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #jackie welles #johnny silverhand #vincent ezaki #my vp #hhhhh I'm on a roll with these #it's so much fun writing everything down after just really... thinking about it and not sharing #although I'm a bit scared of the final three posts cause... yeah xD #getting into 2077 and beyond territory #I think the next two are gonna be a bit on the shorter side #and the final one is gonna destroy me emotionally #looking foward to it XD

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lavender-annd-lilac · 2 years

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🎁 Holiday Gifting Guide 🎁

(Fic Rec Edition!!)

Do you put the "PRO" in procrastination? Are you reading this on today, December 24, 2022 instead of scrambling to get all the gifts you haven't got yet?

Well you made the right choice, because I have the PERFECT gifting recommendations for you!

From the bottom of the heart that I may or may not have, please enjoy 🖤

See the rest of my fic recs HERE

I have linked each fic with my comments attached, but I also put a warning (?) if you might want to skip the commentary

Little White Lies

By @cockslutpadalecki

Pairing: Dark!Catfish!Ransom x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you don’t like Rick Astley

Who it’s for:

The "practical" gift giver

This kind of person gives you...A new toaster oven because you wrecked yours in the sink when your bagels started burning! A new humidifier bc your house is dry af! A new set of tableware bc you break everything and now just eat soup out of the can with a straw!

Not the most thrilling unboxing experience, but honestly, it’s shit that you actually need but probably would never have made time to get for yourself bc you are too busy reading fics on Tumblr.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

This gift will let them know you are very aware that that people have it worse out there. You’re basically saying, "I appreciate this family size pack of 3-ply toilet paper, because even though my disappointment was through the roof when I opened this big ass present I thought was going to be something epic, at least I’m not stuck in a hotel bc I got catfished over 3 months by some trust fund prick". A sentiment that truly encapsulates everything about the holiday season, and the gratitude you feel towards human kind.

The time Brock Rumlow broke a rule *

(drabble from the ongoing “Penthouse” series)

By @kinanabinks

Pairing: sex worker!fem!reader x multiple characters (*not a Brock x Reader fic)

Skip over my comments if: you hate hot dogs 🌭

Who it’s for:

The last minute gift giver

You know that person that gives you things they obviously bought at the gas station on the way home? Like, a selection of snacks, beef jerky, candy, and a couple lottery tickets?

Well, if you think about it, this forgetful person is the other side of the coin with has your procrastinating face on the front! They may only have remembered at the last possible moment, but they still cared enough to give you a random assortment of items packaged together as a cohesive “present” even though you both know what really happened. But still! They were willing to endure the shame and ridicule you surely put them through afterwards, and basically give you this leverage to hold over them in the future.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

It’s also about someone coming through and being there when you need them. Plus, if they don’t like it (cut them out of your life if they don’t like this fic tbh), you can always bring up the fact that their present was shit, so they have no business complaining about this wonderful work of fiction.

Stained like Georgia Clay

(ongoing series)

By @georgiapeach30513

Pairing: Cole Turner x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you are a cop

Who it’s for:

The nostalgic gift giver

A game boy colour from the 1990’s. Those roller skates with 4 wheels that I feel like people don’t really skate with. A lava lamp. This is for the person who loves the way things used to be - the person who always carries a quarter or two to use a phone booth “just for fun” bc you never know when they will vanish.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Why not indulge them with some of the same nostalgia by introducing them to this delightful series steeped in old fashioned small town charm, with a hint of excitement for the future. Wow, that's so on point!! You really are the best gift giver!!

Ranking biggest and baddest

(HC from ongoing series “All That Ultraviolence”)

By @the-iceni-bitch

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x gf!law student reader, plus a LOT of other CE/SS characters, and a partridge in a pear tree Henry Cavil one

Skip over my comments if: you're a coward that doesn't want a peak inside my brain

Who it’s for:

Yourself!!

That’s right! Treat yo self this holiday season bc you deserve it!!! And you can quote me on that!! Show this to your boss/overbearing parent/pain in the butt child/anyone else that is giving you a hard time! If they have any questions, my ask box is open.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

We’ve all seen that tumblr post at some point - the one that’s like “I read too many stories as a kid and now I’m emotionally burnt out so I can only read about the same 2 idiots falling in love over and over again”.

Well, if you are one of those burnouts, this is for you. I mean it’s not technically a fic, but at a time where we choose to believe in immaculate conception, flying reindeer, and benevolent home invaders, let’s not fuss about it.

If you love reading about two people falling in love ad nauseam, what about 9+ variations of 3 actors characters with varying degrees of affection for YOU. Plus, each with their own distinct personality, relationship dynamic, and and dick size! All described in detail for your reading pleasure! (you can find that last one for yourself in the author’s masterlist, like an Easter egg hunt!)

Keep Running Back

By @slyyywriting

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you don’t reduce, reuse, and recycle

Who it’s for:

The regifter

This person give you things that have obviously been regifted. A “worlds best boss” mug from your relative you see 3 times a year at most? Men’s basketball shorts that don’t fit you with the logo of a sports team you don’t know about? An item that still has a card attached with the original person’s name on it bc they forgot to remove it before re-gifting?

Why it’s the perfect gift:

It’s about things coming back into your life unexpectedly, and how it can be super disruptive and fuck up your routine. But also since it’s Xmas, it has smut and kind of a happy ending. So there, you aren’t being entirely petty (unlike the person that gave you a box of chocolates that expired last year).

The Way Home

By @delaber

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you believe in the curse of “The Scottish Play” (Macb*th)

Who it’s for:

The gift card giver

Steam gift cards, Sephora gift cards, gift cards you can use at like 18 different restaurants or 16 different stores own by the same giant business conglomerate, whatever is vaguely in your interest, there's a gift card for it!!

Now, some people may think this is a boring gift. But it’s basically cash money, so if you find that boring, feel free to send me all your boring currency.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

The person that gives you gift cards is doing you a solid. It's not something you have to worry about returning, or bringing out of storage each time this person visits your house so you can pretend you don't hate it. It's basically unconditional love, just like the reader in the fic has for Bucky.

If Only

By @littlelioncub43

Pairing: Best friend!Jake Jensen x Female!Reader, Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Skip over my comments if: you think Orpheus should suffer for eternity bc he took a teeny tiny little peak behind him

Who it’s for:

The person that already has everything

Can’t get them ANYTHING bc they have it all? Man, if only you were super wealthy maybe you could afford to give them an expensive gift, like some Gucci loafers, or a ticket to Taylor Swift's upcoming tour … oh wait, they already have all that shit.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Since you are such a considerate person, you want to give them something money can’t buy... an ~experience. And not just any experience, no, you’re going to treat them to something completely new, something they’ve never felt before

So go ahead, gift them this fic and watch their world crumble as they experience angst and despair. You can even emphasis your point by including a festive card with the following season's greetings: This is how it feels when you can't get what you want in life!! When the object of your desires lies just beyond your reach!! This is how us ordinary people feel when we don’t have enough change to afford a little Starbucks treat at the end of the day.

Unsolicited

(ongoing series)

By @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you are Emily Blunt. I just feel like what I wrote might give you the impression that I’m obsessed with you or something, when really I’m just like your biggest fan.

Who it’s for:

The person that insists on not receiving presents

This is for the smug asshole who thinks they are above material items. The, “I’m just thankful to be healthy and happy” person. The person who acts like there is a special VIP lounge in heaven, with a table reserved just for them, and unlimited bottle service. The person that might actually just be genuinely satisfied with their life... but still, they shouldn't rub it in your face with their radiant happiness and cheerful disposition SMH. Just take the damn gift I didn't want to get you anyway, and give a half-hearted "thanks, I love it" like every other normal unhappy person on autopilot during this time of year.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

"Thankful to be healthy and happy”?? Well, not for much longer dude, bc this isn’t a present. It’s a clever little series that will worm its way into your soul like a Katy Perry pop song, and make you question what you find appealing or attractive in other people. Happy and healthy? More like deeply confused and aroused. Get ready to fight the demons of desire that lurk deep within you.

The Magic Box

By @rustytricycle

Pairing: Dark!Terry the Terrific x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you don’t believe in magic, or you don’t want to find out how David Copperfield does that one trick where he "teleports" like a dozen audience members to Hawaii in 5 minutes

Who it’s for:

The smartass that always manages to guess what the present is before unwrapping it

Why do they insist on doing this shit? MK Ultra has been shut down dude, remote viewing isn't a marketable asset anymore. No one is impressed. No ones enjoys watching you shake, smell, and squint at the box for 10 minutes when we all just want to get this family gathering over with so we can go home and watch Netflix.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Whether they are actually gifted with ESPN powers, x-ray powers, or being a nosy bitch powers, this magical gift is sure to surprise them. They will never see it coming. Just like the reader in this fic hahaha!

Teacher’s Pet

By @whateveriwant

Pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Student!Reader

Skip over my comments if: you are a university professor who thinks it is reasonable to make your students literally wait WEEKS to get their exams graded, when the grading process is just running those fill in the bubble sheets through a computer

Who it’s for:

The person that gives the gift of “a donation to [insert charity of THEIR choice here ]”

Wow. Maybe this is the relative who has never forgiven you for not going to church anymore after you discovered you had more important things to do with your time, so she gives you a receipt for some missionary project that seems a bit sketchy. Or maybe it's the relative always posting misinformation of facebook, who makes a donation to a political party/politician you do not support in your name. Whatever it is, this is a “charity” or “cause” you would rather not be associated with.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

This isn’t actually a petty move. It’s giving them a sign from the universe (via you), that what they are doing is not cool. I mean, of course you could always confront them directly and have a discussion about it, but that’s not really a gift. Who wants “a conversation” as a holiday gift? No, you are going to send them this delightfully unhinged fic from a burner an email with the subject line: I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. If you want to write anything in the email, it should preferably be in comic sans for the extra touch of je ne sais pas.

And they won’t know what’s happening either! If they respond with ????, don’t answer. Let them wonder if [email protected] sent it to the wrong person, if [email protected] really knows anything incriminating, or if there is an evil doppelgänger out there ruining their reputation.

Candy canes and hot cocoa

(from her “Make it a December to Remember” Christmas series*)

By @imyourbratzdoll

Pairing: Elf!Ransom x Reader

Skip over my comments if: your name starts with “J” and ends with “esus Christ”. Some of my private and confidential communication with my boy Baphomet is included here, and that’s none of your business tbh.

* these are all cute af and you need to read every single one… my other fav elves are Steve and Lee

Who it’s for:

The person that gives the gift of “a donation to [insert charity of YOUR choice here ]”

While your first reaction might be disappointment bc you really wanted that Chanel purse or Valentino gown, after thinking about it, this gift is actually really sweet!!

This person not only knows you well, but they are also helping you curb your addiction to material items. AND they are basically being generous in your name so you don’t have to do it yourself. Wow, they are really racking up those karma points for you!!

Why it’s the perfect gift:

This person deserves the cutest goddamn Christmas fic I have ever had the courage to openly admit I enjoyed (just don’t tell anyone I said that). In fact, your gift might even be better than what they got for you! So don’t forget to tell them that it’s ok, and you appreciate their effort.

On read

By @straywords

Pairing: Stalker! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you are one of those guys who tries to get onlyfans content for free

Who it’s for:

The distant but wealthy family member that always sends a card with a reasonable amount of money inside

Although… I feel like they haven’t really considered the inflated cost of living these days. So maybe it’s time to adjust for that? I mean, get with the times, right? They should consider how your purchasing power could be affected here.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

This one gets kind of spicy but tbh if they are a distant family member it should be ok. Plus they might appreciate it and give you more money next year. Who knows. Or they might come back at you asking for more fic recs and then you can charge a finders fee.

Starting Gate

By @navybrat817brat817

Pairing: Motocross!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Skip over my comments if: you don’t love that I love Nat

Who it’s for:

The generous, well intentioned gift giver that unfortunately gets it wrong, like, every damn time

This is the kind aunt who gets you a nice pair of pearl earrings for your un pierced ears, a cute designer iPhone case for your android (tbh that’s on u for choosing the wrong phone tho… lol jk), a lifetime bark box subscription for your cat, or even a new car with stick shift, when you can only drive an automatic.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Show them what a thoughtful person (Nat) would really do for their friend. Like, hint hint, next year I expect you to introduce me to my future soulmate, ok??

John the Baptist

By: definitely not me lol who even suggested that get outta here u lying liar

Pairing: Priest!Bucky x no one bc he’s a man of God you fucking perverts

Skip over my comments if: I didn't leave any comments bc I feel like this drabble speaks for itself tbh

Who it’s for:

The “joke” gift giver

We all have (or had) this friend. The one that gives you a family size package of adult diapers, or an enormous bottle of denture cleaning solution, or anything else that is funny when it happens to other people, but not cool when it's your turn to enjoy life - i.e. it sucks that you got them a nice sweater while they got you a package of XS condoms and a bottle of cranberry juice.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Why not turn the tables this year! Fight humour with humour. Spread the joy! And ok, am I recommending my own “fic”? For the last time, NO! Omg… like seriously who said that? I would NEVER self promote on this most humble of holidays.

For an actual joke of a piece of writing tho, (that was published on a legit platform btw) check out this review of Seb Stan in Picnic from the Hollywood Reporter

Skip over my comments if: you wrote that article and stand by your statements regarding abdominal muscles

Slow Hands

By @heli0s-writes

Pairing: Steve Rogers x his hands x his imagination?

DON’T skip these comments if: you work for the Onion News. Seriously guys, I think I would be at least an average level employed to add to your team.

Who it’s for:

The selfish romantic partner that gets themselves a gift, and then tries to pass it off as a “couples/bonding experience” like you wouldn’t immediately see through that shit

“Babe, I got us tickets to see that sports team I know you couldn’t care less about!! You know, the one that I always ditch you for when they have a game that I want to watch with the guys, even though we already made reservations at a restaurant that’s not Olive Garden for once! This is going to be so much fun for us!! Oh ya, don’t forget to dress hot in case they show us on the kiss cam”

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Now if you’re familiar with this fic I already know what you’re going to say,

“But this is a beautiful masterpiece!!! Why would I allow my inconsiderate jerk of a partner the privilege of reading it??”

Well, first of all, “beautiful masterpiece”? I mean… that’s just YOUR opinion man. (Lol jk it is truly a work of art)

But listen, in the xmas spirit, I think you can find it within yourself to turn the other cheek, and show that even though they might not give a damn about what you enjoy, you’re still going to be gracious, thoughtful, and kind.

Plus your partner will probably need some cheering up after you dump their ass live on national tv when they propose to you with a dollar store ring pop* on the kiss cam. 😘

*lol jk. Nothing against ringpops tbh. I’d take one of those solid lumps of corn syrup and food colouring over a blood diamond any day. In fact, I’d take one over a regular diamond bc engagement rings are one of the biggest marketing scams ever, created by a Machiavellian cartel (*cough* De Beers *cough*) with a monopoly on the market, who purposely restricts supply and creates a false sense of scarcity in order to justify massively inflating the price of these inherently worthless chunks of compressed carbon to ensure profit and distract you from the fact that diamonds are a depreciating asset backed by arbitrary claims of “investment value” that come from the same greedy, lying, fatcats that have poured millions of advertising dollars to convince you that you’re a failure in life if you don’t have or can’t afford to buy a common rock (that’s right, common, plentiful, more numerous in quantity than tickets to the latest TSwift tour) the size of an grotesquely enlarged, genetically modified blueberry.

Thanks for reading! And thanks to all the authors!

& ty @firefly-graphics for the dividers!!

(Except whoever wrote that shitty John the Baptist drabble)

If for whatever reason you feel uncomfortable with having your fic included in this, the holy grail of gift guides, send me a DM along with $300 worth of doge coin haha kidding y’all, I only accept cash.

LOL JK, send me a DM and I will replace the title of your fic AND your @username with 3 emojis of my choice.

#fic recs #personally curated fic recs

50 notes · View notes

screechthemighty · 6 months

Text

Fair warning, this chapter is a bit of a doozy. That seems to happen with poor Wolfwood. Also, it sprung into my head fully-formed while writing the LAST Wolfwood chapter, so that was fun. Anyways, AO3 link in a reblog, enjoy the full chapter below, happy Wolfwood Wednesday!

the unknowable tomorrow | a tristamp fanfic

part thirteen: wolfwood

content warnings: religious trauma, psychological abuse, physical abuse/torture, mass murder, gore, displayed corpses, dissociation, guilt/self-loathing, and references to human trafficking

citations: this chapter is based on events described in trigun maximum vol. 12 ch. 6. it also uses a quote from 1x3 of trigun: stampede.

Wolfwood stepped from darkness into darkness of a different kind.

As his eyes adjusted, he could see he was in some kind of storage room, packed full of odds and ends. He’d think he was in the back room of a general store, but something about it was off. A second look confirmed that none of the clothes had duplicates, none of the bags matched, and the boxes were haphazardly packed with odds and ends. It was either a thieves’ hoard or a scavenger’s hoard, maybe both, all prepped to be sorted and resold to people who didn’t care where their purchases came from. If a portal had taken him here...

Wolfwood started rummaging through the clothes. His fingers glanced over a familiar material. It was hard to see color in the low light, but he knew that coat.

Damn it, Vash.

It took some feeling around the pockets, but eventually, Wolfwood was able to find his lighter. He took the rifle off his back long enough to throw on the coat. It felt perverse to wear it, but he needed to keep his arms free. He grabbed the rifle, clicked the lighter on, and used the dim light to start looking for more of Vash’s things. Vash’s bag, a pair of pants and a shirt that looked like his, a pair of boots that were roughly the same size and look. Various survival supplies that probably didn’t belong to Vash, but weren’t going back to their original owners any time soon anyway. No sign of the pistol, but weapons might be stored in a different place, or taken by the thieves instead of being resold. He'd worry about it later. Wolfwood clicked the lighter off, readied his rifle, and carefully opened the door to the storeroom.

There was a storefront on the other side. It looked like every general store he’d ever been in, but with a strangely abandoned feeling to it. All the shelves were empty, and the roof was partially collapsed, but he could hear voices coming from outside. Wolfwood crept across the room, trying to stay low. The voices grew clearer as he got closer to the door. “…can mock them all you want,” said an immediately familiar one. He sounded hoarse, weak, but it was definitely Vash. “But they’re not the monsters you think they are.”

“Is that so?”

Wolfwood froze. His mouth went dry.

No, no, no.

Wolfwood kept moving, even though his legs felt like they were turning to sludge. The moons were full outside, giving him a clear view of what was happening. He saw Vash, chained up by his flesh and blood arm in the middle of a town square. He was in rough shape: stripped down to his underwear, practically dangling from the handcuffs, prosthetic gone, body covered in bruises. And standing over him, glinting in the moonlight…

Millions Knives, in the flesh.

“These men beat you and left you out here to suffer,” Millions Knives continued. He sounded amused, as if he were talking to a toddler who was doubling down on a really obvious lie. “They intend to sell you into slavery. What is that, if not monstrous behavior? How can you defend this?”

“I’m not defending it,” Vash said. “It’s wrong. But they’re not malicious. Didn’t you see their faces? The Plant building? There was an explosion. She flooded the place with radiation when she died. The town and everyone in it was abandoned. They can’t go anywhere and they don’t have any other way to survive. They have people depending on them, people they need to protect…” Vash glared up at his brother. “…and they wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t crashed those ships.”

Knives’ head tilted. “So, you’re blaming me for this?” he asked. The amusement was gone from his voice. In its place was a deliberate blankness. The sort of calm that never led to anything good. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying you have no right to judge them. No right at all.”

Stop it. Stop talking. You’re just going to make this worse. Wolfwood’s grip on the rifle was so tight that his hands ached. Vash, please, for once, shut up…

Suddenly, he had a terrible thought.

I could end this all right now.

Knives didn’t know he was here. He had the element of surprise. In the back of his mind, Wolfwood remembered that he didn’t believe that Knives was anything close to an angel, that if Vash could bleed so could Knives, that if Vash could be killed, so could Knives. He remembered all the harm that he’d cause so many people, all the lives lost, Vash and the kids and even Wolfwood himself…

I could stop it.

One bullet was all it would take.

He raised the rifle.

Knives didn’t turn around. He had no way of knowing Wolfwood was there. But the second Wolfwood got a clear look at him, he froze. It wasn’t just the sight of a being more powerful than him that did it, wasn’t just the Eye of Michael’s bullshit spreading through his mind and freezing him in place. It was the look in Knives’ eyes as he stared down at Vash. Wolfwood knew that look. Even when it was directed at someone else, it made him want to run and hide.

But still, Vash met Knives’ eyes. Stared up at him in defiance, not fear.

How? How can he do that?

After what felt like an eternity, Millions Knives sighed. “If that’s how you feel, perhaps you haven’t learned.” He turned away. “Rot with these humans, if you’re so convinced they’re not malicious. See how you enjoy their hospitality. We can talk again when I come back for them.”

Those were the words that made Vash’s eyes light up with fear. “Come back for…no. No, Nai, don’t…” He scrambled after Knives until he hit the limits of his restraints. “Please, no!”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let them sell you.”

“That’s not what I mean, Nai, please! You don’t have to do this!”

“Don’t have to keep you safe?” Knives stopped, glanced over his shoulder. “Of course I do. You’re my little brother, after all.”

He kept walking.

“Nai, no! Please…don’t! Don’t!” Vash strained against his restraints. “I don’t want you to do this!”

But it was too late. Millions Knives was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the night. Wolfwood lowered the rifle with a sharp gasp. It felt like a vice had suddenly been removed from his chest.

Stupid, stupid, you should have taken the shot, you should’ve taken the damn shot!

But Wolfwood didn’t have time to berate himself. He had other things to worry about, like the people suddenly running out of nearby buildings to see what Vash was screaming about. “Will you shut the hell up?!” someone snapped.

“Please, you have to run!” Vash begged. “You have to get out of here while you can, he…he’s coming back, he’ll kill everyone here, please!”

Someone scoffed. “He’s lost it already…should we bring him in?”

“After the fight he put up? Nah, let him stay a bit longer. We don’t want any trouble when the merchants come over.”

“You’re not listening to me! You have to think of the kids, you’ve got to…”

“Shut up!” A well-aimed kick made Vash double over with a pained sob. “Quit yelling or we’ll put the gag on!”

“Please,” Vash begged. “Please, you have to go…I don’t want you to die…”

“Right, because the boogeyman’s coming for us.” Another kick. Another sob. “Shut the hell up. Trying to sleep here.”

The figures departed, but Wolfwood stayed rooted in place. Other people were probably awake. Other eyes were probably on Vash. If he wanted to grab him and run, he’d have to wait a bit longer, make sure that the town was quiet again before he made his move.

It hurt, sitting there and listening to Vash’s hoarse sobs instead of helping. But it at least gave Wolfwood time to plan.

He wasn’t sure where they were, but he could make some guesses. If the community had survived this long cut off from most other people, they had to have a water supply nearby. Probably one of the planet’s rare springs or aquifers, since their Plant had died, and one close enough that outsiders wouldn’t risk the residual radiation of the Plant explosion to harvest from it. If he made a break for the water supply, figured out a safe place to stash Vash…that’d be a start. He could improvise from there. He busied himself with sneaking around the store and grabbing a few more empty bottles. They’d need as much water as they could get if they had to keep running.

Assuming Vash could run. Leaving your captives tied up and letting the elements weaken them was a tried-and-true method of pre-breaking people for slavers. Depending on how long he’d been exposed…

You’ll figure it out. You don’t have any choice.

The moons marched across the sky. Eventually, the town felt still again. Even Vash’s weeping had quieted. Wolfwood was still cautious as he made his way out of the building. Vash was slumped against the pole, curled up tightly, his body shaking in the cold night air. He’d been out there a while, if the peeling on his shoulders and his dry lips were anything to go by. Wolfwood carefully brushed his fingers against Vash’s cheeks. Despite his previous sobs, they were completely dry, caked in sand that hadn’t been disturbed by tears any time recently.

Shit. Not good.

Vash shuddered at the touch, flinching away. His eyes took a second to focus. “Nico…?”

“Shh.” Wolfwood looked around. “Hold still, okay? I’m getting you out, but you have to be quiet.” Vash did as he was told, which almost worried Wolfwood as much as how dry he was. Wolfwood picked the handcuff lock in record time, letting Vash slump to the ground. “Can you walk?”

Vash struggled to stand, but quickly slipped. Shit, okay. Plan B. Wolfwood made sure the pack and rifle were secure on his back before scooping Vash up. Vash curled up against him immediately. Wolfwood examined their surroundings. Buildings in various states of disrepair. Rough road cutting up the middle of town. In front of him, a gate leading out into a vast expanse of sands. Behind him, further off, another gate leading out of town, this time to a nearby cliffside.

And if there’s a road leading there, that’s probably where the water is.

Wolfwood adjusted his grip on Vash and started jogging.

No one tried to stop him as they left, so they hadn’t left any guards posted. Probably figured Vash was too broken-down to run or smart enough to realize that running without any supplies was suicide. Fine by Wolfwood; trying to shoot his way out with all this extra cargo would’ve been a pain in the ass. He paced himself best he could, stopping only long enough to re-adjust his hold on Vash or straighten out the pack and the rifle. Vash whined quietly every time Wolfwood had to put him down, and clung desperately to him once he was back up. Whatever fire had driven him to backtalk his brother had bled out of him with his screams, or been kicked out of him by the townsfolk.

And yet he’d still begged Knives not to kill them.

And Knives still left him, Wolfwood thought, suddenly furious. That bastard left his own brother with these people…to what? Teach him a lesson? Because it sure felt like that was what he was doing. Let him suffer a few days, then make him watch as Knives massacred the place. Wolfwood might not have agreed with Vash about whether or not these people were monsters, might not have agreed with him about killing, but what Knives was doing here…

This isn’t about protecting Vash. It’s about sending him a message. He almost growled in frustration. Son of a bitch…

But he had to abandon that line of thinking for now. They were getting close to the cliffs. He had to focus on following the trail up. It was wide enough, well-maintained to allow for water to be moved up and down it, but tripping and falling down it would be embarrassing at best.

Wolfwood kept following the path up the cliffside and into the caves within. The walls were marked with some kind of glowing substance—cultivated fungi, maybe, another sure sign there was water somewhere—that lead them deeper and deeper inside. Eventually, they emerged into a large room, marked by more glowing fungi, a sleeping worm colony, and below all of that…

Water, thank God. An entire spring coming right up from the ground, trickling down into a river leading deeper into the caves. Wolfwood carefully set Vash down and pulled the first water bottle he could get access to out of his pack. In an ideal world, he’d boil it first, but he decided to cross his fingers and hope that it was fresh enough from the source to be clean. Vash needed water now, and he didn’t have anything to burn anyway. He filled up the bottle and brought it back to Vash. “Here…”

He had to help Vash sit up. For a moment, Wolfwood was worried the kid had fallen unconscious, but Vash’s eyes sprung back open the second water touched his lips. Wolfwood went from being worried he wouldn’t be able to get the guy to drink to angling the bottle so he wasn’t drinking so much. “Slowly, slowly…kid, you really can’t be throwing up right now…”

Vash’s hand jerked up, tilting the bottle back down and splashing water over his face and neck. That was fair; some of the burns looked like they stung. Wolfwood moved him closer to the spring and grabbed the first piece of cloth he could find out of the bag. He soaked it in water and draped it over Vash’s shoulders. “There, that better?”

“Mm.” Vash relaxed almost instantly. His next few sips of water weren’t so frantic, and his eyes looked a little clearer when they met Wolfwood’s. “Nico.”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“You came back.”

“’Course I did. Had to get my lighter, didn’t I?” Wolfwood smiled gently, resting his hand against Vash’s forehead. He felt hot. Even with how cold the night was, he felt hot. “How long did they have you out there?”

“Couple days…sun’s…bright…is that my…?”

“Yeah, I know, it looks like shit on me.” Wolfwood shrugged off the jacket and lay it down next to Vash. “But I couldn’t just leave it there. Do you know where they took your arm?”

Vash shook his head. “Brad’s gonna kill me,” he mumbled.

“If Brad’s an even halfway decent man, he’ll just be happy you’re alive. Maybe wait a week to kill you.”

Vash nodded. His eyes suddenly grew frantic and scared again. “My brother…Nai, he…”

“I know. I saw him.” His skin still crawled at the memory. “Don’t worry, we’ll be long gone before he gets back.”

“But he’ll kill them. I know he will. He can do it. I’ve…heard stories, and after the Fall, I…” Vash struggled to sit on his own. “I have to warn them…”

“You already tried. Vash…” Wolfwood caught his shoulder. “You can barely walk. I had to carry you up here.”

“I…” Vash tried again, but had to lie back down just as quickly. His face crumpled, but he still didn’t have enough water in him to shed actual tears. “I can’t let them die. I can’t…”

“You’re not letting them die. Hey, look at me.” Wolfwood carefully tilted Vash’s face towards him. “You tried. If they don’t want to listen, that’s on them.” Wolfwood didn’t point out the obvious: that Vash shouldn’t care so much about people who hurt him so badly, that maybe this would teach them that if you fucked around, you’d find out one day. He knew what Vash’s response would be, and he didn’t especially want to go through that whole conversation again. “And whatever Nai’s going to do, it’s not your fault.”

A pained noise tore out of Vash, almost like the noise he’d made when he’d been kicked. He curled up towards Wolfwood. Wolfwood was worried if he hugged him, he’d just drive his body temperature back up, so instead he rested his forehead against Vash’s.

It was still too warm.

“We’ve gotta get you cooled off,” Wolfwood said. “Here…”

He pumped as much water into Vash as he could, carefully doused his head, re-wet the cloth around his neck. He examined Vash’s injuries while he was at it. Bruises, scrapes, sunburn. Nothing too deep, nothing that would kill him any time soon, and Vash claimed that none of his bones felt broken. Could be worse.

But he already had some scars hiding among the bruises. The bullet wound Wolfwood had treated last time had left a thin white line along his leg. Wolfwood felt his throat close up at the sight, but he tried not to get too visibly angry. Vash needed to rest. Them having the same old debate wasn’t resting.

Slowly, Vash’s skin cooled. The feverish look faded from his eyes.

The pain didn’t.

“We should get out of here,” Wolfwood said quietly. “They’ll notice you’re gone eventually and this is probably gonna be one of the first places they look.” There were other branching tunnels moving off from this area; all he had to do was make them hard enough to find that it wasn’t worth looking. “Can you walk, or do you need me to carry you?”

“I’ll…I’ll try…” Vash sat up slowly. He was able to make it upright on his own power, though Wolfwood had to help him stand and support him as he walked. They moved slowly through the first random tunnel they could find. Wolfwood carefully tracked the twists and turns until they hit a dead end. The space was larger, with a crevice that overlooked the space leading back to the town. Technically, they were cornered, but it was a convenient sniper post. Wolfwood decided to take the risk and helped Vash sit back down. “You sleep,” he said. “I’ll keep watch.”

Vash hummed quietly and leaned against Wolfwood. His hand tightly gripped Wolfwood’s sleeve. That would slow Wolfwood down if it came to a firefight, but Wolfwood couldn’t bring himself to make Vash let go.

Afte the night he’d had, he deserved some comfort.

By sunrise, he had a plan, or at least a workable half-plan.

Step One: grill Vash about the town once he was awake. Did they have any working transport, any thoma, food or ammo stashes. Did he know where his pistol and arm might be. The answers would help him shape his mental shopping list.

Step Two: Lay low for the day. Let Vash get his strength up. Catch some worms, fill up the water bottles.

Step Three: Once it got dark, make their way into town, grab what they could for supplies.

Step Four: Run and don’t look back.

There were a lot of holes, a lot of places things could go wrong, but it would have to do for now. Unfortunately, once the plan was squared away, he didn’t have much else to think about except what he’d seen that night. The conversation between Vash and Knives specifically.

It infuriated him, pissed him off in a way that made him want to get violent. He didn’t agree with Vash about a lot, he’d argue with the man until he was blue in the face, but he could never imagine just leaving Vash so casually. If he ever treated any of the littles that way…if he ever treated Livio that way…

I’d deserve worse than a bullet. Worse than any kind of death.

Wolfwood knew how messed up people could be. This was the first time he couldn’t fully grasp the level of cruelty he was faced with.

He’s your brother. How could you? Wolfwood glanced down aft Vash, still sound asleep. Still clinging to Wolfwood’s sleeve. He loves you more than you deserve. Isn’t that enough? What’s the end goal, here?

To break him, probably. And the sick part was, Wolfwood knew it wouldn’t work, at least not the way Knives wanted it to. It didn’t matter how many times Knives left Vash to humanity’s cruelty; Vash would never give up on them. He’d never give up on Knives, either, no matter how incompatible those two things were.

Something had to give. Vash would have to pick a side, eventually. Wolfwood just wasn’t sure which side was worse.

The rising sun sent rays of light in through the crack in the wall. Vash whined quietly and buried his face in Wolfwood’s shoulder. “Morning, Blondie,” Wolfwood said.

There was a pause before Vash leaned back. He looked genuinely shocked to see Wolfwood there. “Am I dreaming?” he asked.

Wolfwood smiled and poked Vash between the eyes—gently, though, just enough pressure to make his point. “100% real,” he said. “Sorry about that.”

Vash broke into a wide, relieved grin. “Oh, that’s…” He leaned forward until he was resting against Wolfwood. “That’s good. That’s really good.”

“I dunno about good.” Wolfwood checked Vash’s forehead again. He was cooler than he had been the night before, but still warmer than the usual. “Thirsty?”

Vash nodded eagerly. Wolfwood passed him one of the water bottles. He waited until Vash had taken a few good chugs before asking, “How do you feel?”

“Sore. Really sore. Head hurts.” Vash winced as he tried to straighten up. “Tired.”

“Do you think if you took the day to rest, you’d be able to walk out of here?”

“I could…try.”

That’s a “no,” then. “Do you know if they have any transportation down there? Cars, bikes, thomas? Did you have anything when they grabbed you?”

“I had a thomas, but she got away when they grabbed me. Probably kept running to the meetup point, so…” Vash trailed off, then shook his head. “Sorry. Ship Three will know something is wrong when she shows up without me, but without any way for me to…”

Another pause. This time, Vash seemed to hold on to whatever thought he’d had, and grabbed his jacket. He reached into a hidden pocket even Wolfwood hadn’t been able to find, and pulled out some kind of thin contraption with an earpiece attached. “Okay. Okay, good. We can call for help.”

Perfect. Wolfwood would have to dodge seeing anyone from the ship, but at least Vash would be somewhere safe. “How close can they get?”

“We’d have to move away from any population centers…” Vash froze. “Nico, was Nai really there last night?”

Damn it. Should he lie? Vash would be furious if he caught Wolfwood in a lie, but if Wolfwood told him the truth, he’d probably do something stupid. Try to fist fight Knives on his own or get himself recaptured while trying to warn the town, or something like that. Unfortunately, Wolfwood took too long to decide one way or another, and the silence was all the answer Vash needed. He tried to get on his feet; his expression was furious, not terrified like it had been the night before. “That asshole...”

“Steady on!” Wolfwood was glad to see Vash getting visibly pissed for a change, not just mopey and depressed, but he did not like the thought of where that anger might lead them. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I have to stop him.”

“How? You going to give him an ass-whooping with no gun? Bite him into submission or something?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

Heaven help me, he’s serious about this. Wolfwood dragged Vash back down as best he could without hurting him. “You are not going to fight your brother. We are staying put until you can walk, and then we are getting you home.”

“But…”

“But nothing.” Wolfwood tightened his grip on Vash’s arm. “You want to see Ship Three again? Because I can promise you that you won’t if you go after him.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me – “

“He left! You were baked to a crisp when I got to you, and he wasn’t planning on coming back until you were completely burned up! All that to prove a point. How is that not hurting you?”

Vash’s lips parted. His eyes slowly widened as a dozen retorts formed and died. Wolfwood could see something in there was close to breaking, so he grabbed his chance, even though he knew it would hurt.

“Don’t you think killing those people is more about getting to you than it is keeping you safe?”

Cruel to be kind.

Wolfwood couldn’t tell if the question was enough to sever Vash’s loyalty to Knives entirely—in fact, he was pretty sure it wouldn’t. But from the way Vash’s face crumpled, it had fractured something. “Oh,” Vash said quietly.

A few tears slipped down his cheeks; the sight only compounded the guilt Wolfwood felt. This is the right call. You didn’t tell him anything that wasn’t true. You’ve seen where that stupid loyalty to Knives gets him. He has to face what his brother is. Still… “Hey, c’mon.” Wolfwood pressed the bottle of water back into Vash’s hands. “Vash, I…”

Voices suddenly started carrying up the tunnel. Wolfwood and Vash froze at almost the same time, their eyes locking onto each other. After a pause, Vash leaned over and whispered, “It’s not Nai. I’d know.”

So, it was just people from town. Probably entered the caves while Wolfwood was arguing with Vash. So much for my sniper position.

Wolfwood put on his sternest face and pressed a finger against his lips. Vash nodded.

It was hard to get a read on where the speakers were. Too many tunnels, too much echoing. Wolfwood caught snippets of conversation—can’t have gone far, maze in here, probably come crawling out—but the voices grew quieter from there until it was silent again. This time, Wolfwood made sure to keep his eyes glued on the valley below. A small group crossed back into town eventually, hauling a water wagon behind them.

As Wolfwood had suspected, they’d assumed a fleeing Vash would come here. Probably figured he’d either wander the tunnels until he died (in which case, there was no reason to potentially lose men looking for him), or wander out on his own when he couldn’t find a way through (in which case, they could just kidnap him again). Maybe they’d left a guard, but considering the haul of stolen goods they already had, they probably didn’t need Vash to get by.

Good. That works out in our –

“I have to warn them,” Vash said.

Wolfwood closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten. “No,” he replied with gritted teeth, “you do not. And spare me the victims-of-circumstance speech. I heard it all last night and I don’t care.”

“I care, though.”

“Well, we’ve already established that you’re insane, and way too forgiving, so…”

“Do you really think they deserve to die? All of them?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think. This is called consequence. They messed with the wrong person and pissed off someone stronger than them. It was gonna happen someday, even if they never met you. And the consequence of us showing our faces is them capturing or killing us, so if you don’t mind, I’d rather stay…”

“They have kids down there.”

Damn it.

Damn it, Vash knew that was a tactical missile of a statement. And he kept going, too: “At least one that I’ve seen, but they’ve talked about more. Kids who weren’t affected by the blast. They don’t have anyone to defend them. If the town goes, they’ll die.”

Wolfwood tried to think of a rebuttal. Almost all of them left him feeling like a raging hypocrite. How was he supposed to point out the brutality of their caretakers when he had the same damn log in his eye? How could he argue without Vash sensing that hypocrisy?

“Do you see why I have to try, now?” Vash said.

Wolfwood did. He hated it. He hated what he knew he had to do even more.

“Not you,” Wolfwood said. “I’ll go.” He glanced Vash’s way, then looked away again at the startled look on his face. “Listen, you can barely stand, and I was gonna see if I could grab some transportation anyway. If you’re serious about this, I’d rather it be me.” He started checking the rifle. Not many bullets left; he’d have to be careful, however he handled this. “Do you know where these kids are kept?”

“Uh…not in town. I saw people going towards the cliffs with supplies, sort of southeast, so I think over there.”

“Right. Might start there.” He wanted to confirm that he was dealing with actual helpless kids before he put his safety on the line. “I need you to promise me you’ll stay put. Don’t come out for anything, understand?”

“I promise.” Vash sighed heavily when Wolfwood gave him a scrutinizing glare. “I really do. Look.” He held out his pinkie. “Please be careful.”

Wolfwood rolled his eyes, but relented enough to link his pinkie with Vash’s. “I’ll be more careful than you are,” he grumbled. He shoved the water bottle back towards Vash again. “Drink up. I’ll refill when I get back.”

If I get back, he couldn’t help thinking, though he had no intention of letting these people get the best of him. Didn’t matter if he was out of vials and down to a handful of bullets. He was Nicholas the Punisher. He’d figure it out.

Wolfwood crept back through the tunnels to the spring room. No guard there. No guard anywhere else along the passage out, or down the cliffside. The sun beat down on his head as he reached the bottom and scanned the valley. The path up into the cliffs forked off, leading to a cluster of buildings he hadn’t paid much attention to the night before. Didn’t necessarily look like residential buildings, but they weren’t falling over, so they were probably suitable enough shelter. He jogged towards the building, his head on a swivel. Everyone must have been inside to avoid the heat of the rising sun, because he didn’t hear any shouts of alarm and he wasn’t shot at.

So far, so good.

He arrived at the buildings. It looked like a storage building, probably for keeping surplus water. He could hear movement inside, voices. Wolfwood peered in through a window.

His stomach sank.

Vash was right; there were kids. The youngest looked maybe ten or twelve, the oldest pushing adulthood (sixteen, maybe?). They had a weary maturity to their eyes that said they hadn’t really been kids in a long time. He knew that look. He’d seen so many kids come in with it—kids even younger than these ones. Their clothes were patched up, but clean, their skin unmarred by the Plant explosion or excess sun exposure. They may have been alone out there, but they hadn’t been shoved outside the nest by necessity just yet.

Because they had people providing for them.

He watched two of the middle-looking kids play cards. Another one had his nose in a book. It was quiet, aside from the humming of the oldest girl as she folded laundry, but the space still felt comfortable. A bit sad, but…safe.

Is it far enough away from the town that Knives will spare it?

Wolfwood knew it wasn’t. That Knives wouldn’t see any innocence here. That even if he did spare them, not all of them would survive being thrust into the world on their own. Maybe none of them would

Damn it…

Wolfwood’s head snapped away from the window at the sound of creaking wood. Someone was coming up the path, dragging a cart behind him. Wolfwood ducked to cover behind the corner. Just one guy, from the look of things, all wrapped up to keep the sun away from their skin as much as possible. And as they got closer…

Bingo. There was one item on Wolfwood’s mental list crossed off. Vash’s gun was pretty distinctive, even when it was strapped to a stranger’s waist. And since it was just one guy…

I can take him. I can definitely take him.

But still, Wolfwood waited. He waited until the cart had been pulled up alongside the house and unloaded, until the person had knocked on the doorway and stepped back. The oldest girl was the one who answered and hauled in the supplies. She chatted with the stranger from the village, asked how things were going. Wolfwood noticed the way the stranger skated past their escaped captive, instead saying that they’d had some issues with supplies but everything would work out. They also issued a stern reminder that everyone needed to stay inside tomorrow until the convoy left.

Yeah, because if the slavers see a group of healthy young people, they’ll take them by force. They were fine with selling other people, but not with their own people being taken. Wolfwood would be bothered by the hypocrisy if it weren’t so common. Even people who weren’t active participants tended to turn a blind eye to No Man’s Land’s human trafficking. The various gangs who engaged it in were too powerful, especially the Roderick gang. All your average person could do was lay low and hope they weren’t singled out as especially valuable.

Still, his frustration with the situation made the next steps a lot easier.

He waited until the door was shut, until the stranger from town had turned around and was headed back. He moved from behind the corner, first at a slow crouch, then at a careful sprint. It was a lot easier to move quietly without the weight of his old weapon on his back; he was still a little surprised that he wasn’t noticed until he was within range and had the rifle aimed at the stranger’s head.

“Don’t move.”

The stranger froze and glanced over their shoulder. Their face was obscured by scarves and goggles, but Wolfwood could see the shock in their body language. “Not a sound. Hands where I can see them.” The stranger obeyed. Wolfwood could see their hands were shaking. That worked for him; if they were scared, if they wanted to live, that made it easier to control them. “Slide the pistol over here.”

The stranger hesitated before removing the pistol and sliding it towards Wolfwood. Wolfwood stepped forward carefully to kick it behind him. “What do you want?” asked the stranger shakily. Their mouth was so muffled it was hard to tell if he was dealing with a man or woman, but it didn’t matter. Either one could trounce him if given the opportunity. “We don’t have much…”

“Yeah, I know that’s not true. I want to talk to whoever’s in charge.”

“I’m vice-foreman. You can talk to me.”

Wolfwood narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t tell if the stranger was lying or not, but he decided to take the gamble. Rolling up into town, even with a hostage, was probably asking for more trouble than he could handle. “Can I see your face while we’re talking?”

The stranger hesitated again before pulling off the goggles and lowering the scarf covering the lower half of their face. As expected, Wolfwood saw a face laced with scar tissue, white and shiny and definitely more sensitive to the sun. One eye looked blinded. The whole effect made it hard to tell if he was speaking to a man or a woman, young or old. They were just a human person worn down to grim survival instincts. “What do you want?”

The voice was female, though. It reminded him of Miss Melanie a bit, a thought that Wolfwood shoved aside as quickly as possible. He didn’t need to be thinking about her right now. “I don’t know how else to say this, so I’m gonna cut to the chase,” Wolfwood said. “You fucked up big time. That guy you were holding last night? His brother’s coming and he’s going to be pissed.”

The vice-foreman rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we all heard him screaming last night. Unless his brother’s bringing an army…”

He wasn’t. He wouldn’t need one. But Wolfwood had no way of explaining that without it sounding impossible, so he tried a different angle. “What year is it?” Wolfwood asked.

“…what?”

“What year?”

“Thirty-Four, abouts? What, you want me to try and figure out what Earth Year it is? No one knows that anymore, pal.”

Planetary Year Thirty-Four. That gave him something to work with. Wolfwood pulled out his lighter and held it up so the design etched into it caught the light. “Does this look familiar?”

It was a gamble that paid off. The vice-foreman’s eyes widened at the emblem. Must’ve had a run-in with the Eye before, so this half-formed plan of his would probably work. On paper, Wolfwood was one of their pastors. He’d been taught to do the whole fire and brimstone bit, shock and awe before the bullets started, but he never did. They wanted him to kill, so he killed. No sense in dressing it up as something other than a slaughter. That was why he preferred to refer to himself as an undertaker. Fit the job description better.

But all of it was still there. Wolfwood dug into the deep recesses of his brain, drawing out all the details that had been drilled in there.

“In the past, God rained fire from the sky, destroying the city of depraved fools. We seek to fix the world once and for all…”

He barely recognized his own voice then. It was flat, dull, the voice of a kid who was barely hanging on, who ignored the pain and the smell of blood and thought only of home. Of everyone who would be safe as long as he kept his head down, said everything correctly, did as he was told.

“…to bring everything back to even.”

He never thought he’d say those words willingly, but here he was.

The vice-foreman took a step back. “They sent you?”

“Not they. The man you kidnapped. He doesn’t want you to die.” Wolfwood pocketed the lighter again. “Shit if I know why, but his brother…he won’t listen. You really picked the wrong guy to try and sell.”

“But he escaped. We don’t have him anymore, I swear.”

“Doesn’t matter. You did what you did, and now you pay the price.”

“We have children…”

“Don’t.” Wolfwood shook his head. “I’m just the messenger. I’m not here for your excuses or your explanations. I’m just here to tell you to run. Get as many people as you can and get out before he comes back. Far as you can.”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere. How…how do I know you’re not lying to me?”

Wolfwood lowered his glasses. “Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m not dead serious about this.”

He held eye contact with the vice-foreman. Watched as her expression changed from defensive to quiet dread. “Why warn us?” she asked. “If you’re with them…”

Wolfwood shrugged. He could’ve corrected her, but he wasn’t not with them. If letting her think he was currently made the warning more credible, he’d take it. “I owe that man a few. Frankly, I don’t care if you live or die, but…he does. He’s terrified for you, even after everything you did. Think about that.” He tilted his head back. “And think about them.”

And with that, he backed away, keeping his eyes on the vice-foreman as he backed up to scoop up Vash’s pistol. Holding it felt wrong. This thing was as close to a weapon of peace that a gun could be; he wasn’t worthy of touching it. But it wasn’t going to grow legs and walk back to Vash, so he did what he had to. “What time is the convoy coming in?”

“Tomorrow morning. Sunrise.”

“Then I suggest you get out of here before then. Assuming you’ve got transport…”

The vice-foreman laughed sharply. “Do you think we’d still be here if we did?”

Good point. Guess we’re walking after all. And he’d wasted time he could’ve spent stealing having this little chat, so…

I hope you like eating worm for the foreseeable future, Vash, Wolfwood thought as he kept backing away. I really hope this is worth it to you.

Once there was enough distance between them, the vice-foreman picked back up the cart and started walking away. Wolfwood still didn’t turn his back until she was far, far down the road. It was only then that he made his way back to the cliffside path, running as fast as he could.

No one chased him down on the way in. Vash was exactly where Wolfwood had left him, more or less. He’d moved a little up the tunnel to get out of the sun and was curled up under his jacket, eyes closed, breathing slow. Wolfwood had to step over him to check the crack in the wall. No sign of any pitchfork-bearing groups coming to storm the cliffs so far.

“Did you tell them?” Vash asked quietly.

Wolfwood glanced Vash’s way. “I told the second in command. She’ll pass it along. Think I left an impression. And I got your gun back.” He stepped back to lay it on the ground near Vash. “That’s all, though. We’re on spring water and worm meat rations until Ship Three picks you up.”

Vash carefully picked up the pistol and rolled over onto his back to examine it. There was something sad in his eyes as he did. “I know,” he said. “But…thank you for trying.”

Wolfwood looked down into the valley and didn’t reply.

He couldn’t sleep again that night.

It wasn’t that he was worried about their upcoming travels. Vash was on the mend after a lot of water and rest; they probably would’ve run for it that night, if it hadn’t been for the threat of crossing paths with Millions Knives. Right now, it was a waiting game. See if he followed through on his threat. If the town would still be standing come sunrise.

Vash took ages to doze off. Wolfwood stayed glued to his spot near the crack in the cliff wall and watched.

He tried to tell himself at first that he was just keeping an eye out, to see if anyone came up looking again or if anyone ever left. But as the night wore on, as his eyes kept scanning the valley for flashes of silver…

“So, what did the Ninevites do? Did they listen?”

It was one of Miss Melanie’s secret stories, the ones he carried deep in his heart but would never repeat to a soul. The one about a prophet who decided he would rather run away than preach to a people he hated. God had a whale (like a grand worm, apparently, but not a worm) swallow him up, then spit him out at the right port when the prophet repented for his disobedience. The name had come up in the Eye’s teachings, he remembered, something about the disobedient nature of man, but only Miss Melanie had ever told him the whole story.

“They did listen. They wore ash and sackcloth and prayed for forgiveness. And God heard them. He spared them.” That was the part the Eye would have objected to. Sinners didn’t get reprieve in their teachings. “But that wasn’t enough for Jonah. He wanted to see them suffer for what they had done to his own people. God rebuked him for that. It’s not right, to hate others so much that you would…” She’d trailed off, up to her wrists in soapy water. “It’s not right.”

He remembered the smell of laundry soap, the dampness of his palms as he hung up small shirts to dry. The distressed look on her face as she contemplated the cruelty of denying others forgiveness. He’d been upset for her, changed the subject so she wouldn’t look so sad, but now…

Shit. I’m the guy she was talking about, aren’t I?

Because he wouldn’t lie: there was a part of him, deep down, that wanted to see that place torn down. There was so much cruelty in the world, cruelty that those people had undeniably contributed to. Wolfwood couldn’t stop any of it. Sometimes it felt like no one could. He hadn’t been lying when he told the vice-foreman that he didn’t care what happened to them. If they lived, whatever. If they died, they’d brought it on themselves, and at least they wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else.

But then he remembered the look in the vice-foreman’s eyes, the flat sound of his voice, how monstrous he must have looked to her…

I had let go. I don’t like who I was back then.

Wolfwood shut his eyes tightly.

I don’t want you to do that for me. Please don’t do that for me.

Just an extension of Millions Knives’ hatred.

When other people change your destination for you…it’s one of the worst things you can do to a person.

He dug his thumb into his bruise until Vash’s voice stopped echoing in his head. Until the pain was so bad that he couldn’t help jerking his hand away, hissing sharply as he did. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon. Dawn was coming.

Vash was awake.

“Sorry,” Wolfwood said. “Go back to sleep, it’s…”

But it wasn’t nothing.

Vash wasn’t looking at him; he was looking past Wolfwood, towards the crack. His eyes were wide, afraid, and he clutched the jacket around him as tightly as possible. ��Vash?”

Whatever Vash might have said was cut off by the sound of an approaching truck. Wolfwood turned around in time to see one pulling up to the outskirts of town. Just the one, which felt weird since they were expecting a convoy. Unless…

Of course, Vash took off running. Wolfwood raced after him. “Vash, Vash…” He knew what was coming. They both did. “Vash, don’t…”

For a man who’d only just stepped back from death’s door, Vash was quick. He was out of the side tunnel, darting past the spring, and heading towards the entrance before Wolfwood could stop him. Wolfwood was terrified he was going to have to wrestle the guy back inside, but Vash collapsed at the entrance, gasping for breath, staring down over the town.

It was already burning.

Wolfwood was briefly transfixed by the carnage below. He could hear the flames, the slashing of blades, the sound of gunfire being abruptly cut off. If he listened very closely, he could hear screaming. “…come on,” Wolfwood whispered. He grabbed Vash’s arm, ready to haul him back to his feet, to carry him if he had to. “Vash, you don’t have to…”

Vash jerked his arm away and stayed where he was. His body shook and tears streaked his face as he stared down into the valley, watching carnage Wolfwood had been so quick to dismiss as consequence. Seeing it now, seeing the horror in Vash’s eyes…

Wolfwood looked away. His own hands started shaking, but for different reasons. He waited for one of those blades to come streaking up the cliffs and cut his throat.

It never did

The sun rose. The screaming stopped. For a while, it was quiet.

Vash’s voice felt like a sudden slap in the face.

“Help me up.”

Wolfwood blinked. He wasn’t expecting it to be so bright. How long had he been standing there? Long enough that his legs ached as he turned around. Vash looked terrible again—the mad sprint to the entrance must’ve taken a lot out of him. Wolfwood did as he was told, walking to Vash’s side to help him to his feet. Vash wobbled, took a deep breath, then pulled away to start hobbling down the path. “Where are you going?” Wolfwood asked.

“Some of them might have…” Vash had to stop not too far away. “…some of them might have gotten out. I need…I need to find survivors.”

Wolfwood tried to remember if he’d seen anyone leave. There had been some activity around the town that night, but he couldn’t grasp any details. His mind was still someplace else, still bracing itself to be struck down for being such a miserable piece of shit. That guilt was what shut his mouth. Objectively, he knew they should be focused on getting out of there, that Knives might still be there, but those thoughts stayed stuck in his head. He just jogged to catch up to Vash and helped him down the path.

The walk seemed to take ages. They took a detour to check the kid’s building. It was completely empty, door wide open, no sign of carnage. Didn’t mean there were any survivors. Each step closer to town from there brought out new details. Most of the buildings had been leveled. Wolfwood thought he could see the truck peeking above the ruins. There was blood on the sand—people had tried to run, hadn’t gotten far, but no sign of the bodies. Just rubble, bullet casings, blood, and the unoccupied truck that had started it all.

Then they reached what had been the town center.

The post Vash had been tied to was the tallest thing left standing. The bodies were laid out in a neat spiral around it, their scarred faces turned to the sky. Throats cut. All missing their left arm.

Vash’s prosthetic was hanging from the post by its wrist.

Wolfwood couldn’t help it: the sight of the arm yanked a disbelieving, strangled yelp of a laugh from him. What kind of sick joke is this? Was Bluesummers here already? Or had he learned how to be such a monster from Knives? Vash stared over the tableau with a dull expression before walking to the truck. It was unoccupied, but the driver’s seat was stained with blood. “Guess he found the slavers, too,” Vash said quietly. “What would you have done?”

Wolfwood tore his eyes away from the bodies. “…huh?”

“You told me that you don’t go out of your way to be nonlethal. That you choose the people you care about. If you were in Nai’s position…”

The question jarred Wolfwood out of the nightmarish fog clinging to his mind. “If I were in Nai’s position, we would’ve been long gone by now,” he said. “I wouldn’t have let anyone stop me, but…Vash, I wouldn’t have…”

He wouldn’t, right? He may have been a monster, but he wasn’t this.

No, you’re just fine with seeing it happen. Is that much better?

“You wouldn’t have done this,” Vash finished, unaware of Wolfwood’s crisis of conscience. “Because this isn’t…normal. This isn’t…” He looked over the wreckage. “This isn’t how people act.”

Wolfwood suddenly understood what Vash was really getting at. The realization that was slowly sinking in. He’d wanted Vash to understand what his brother was, to pick a damn side already, but…

Not like this.

Vash’s hair was slicked back and sticking up from restless sleep and the repeated soaks he’d taken to cool off. Getting the golden mop out of his eyes made him look older. Wolfwood wasn’t sure he liked it. “…we should get moving,” Wolfwood said finally. He stopped to tousle Vash’s hair as he walked to examine the truck, trying to push it back into place. “Do you think this thing still has juice?”

Someone started screaming.

Wolfwood’s first thought was that someone was still alive in there, somehow, half-bled out or trapped under rubble. What he saw when he turned around was almost worse. There was a handful of people nearby, all wrapped up in clothes and scarves and goggles, save for one. It was the eldest girl from the depot. She collapsed on the ground in front of Knives’ bloody display, sobbing hysterically. The others standing nearby were frozen in place, staring at the carnage. “Don’t let the kids come over here…no, stay over there!” one called.

The vice-foreman. Her and maybe four other adults, and from the sound of it more someplace on the edge of town with the other kids. Some of them had run.

They had survived.

“You’re alive,” Vash breathed.

The vice-foreman’s gaze jerked over to them. Wolfwood didn’t need to see her face to tell how terrified she was at the sight of them. “Please,” she said. “Please, you made your point…”

“You’re alive,” Vash repeated, seemingly not hearing her pleas. “You…” He cupped his hands over his mouth, tears suddenly flooding his eyes. “Oh, thank God…”

Wolfwood had never heard Vash invoke a higher power of any kind in the future. It sounded genuine here and now. As if he had been struck by lightning and suddenly believed that maybe God could exist. Something had finally worked out. Even something small.

Wolfwood had stopped getting that feeling a long time ago.

He wondered if the same thing would happen to Vash.

The vice-foreman looked confused, even pulled off her goggles to get a better look at Vash’s relieved face. “I’m sorry,” Vash said, his voice muffled by his hands and his tears. “I tried to stop him, I did…what can I do? We have this, there has to be someplace we can go…”

“The truck might not be charged.” Wolfwood wasn’t sure why he said that. He was pretty sure he was still in shock. Vash’s bittersweet joy at seeing survivors didn’t help.

I don’t understand him.

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll…” Vash’s voice cracked as a tears started slipping down his face. “We’ll figure it out.”

The vice-foreman kept staring. So did the other adults. Wolfwood wondered if any of them had been the ones to strap Vash to that pole, if they’d been the ones to kick him when they tried to warn him or if they’d just turned a blind eye when it happened.

He wondered if the guilt choked them as much as it did Wolfwood.

“We need to bury them,” said the eldest girl. “We can’t just leave them like this.”

Vash hobbled over to kneel next to her. “We will,” he said. “I’ll help.”

“No,” Wolfwood said. “You’ll rest. I’ll help.” He sighed quietly. “Undertaker, remember?”

It was going to take hours, especially if they insisted on individual graves. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to find a shovel in this wreckage. But it was his job.

Maybe digging a few graves would make up for his inaction.

In the end, they made burial mounds out of the town’s rubble.

Wolfwood tried not to think too hard about the fact that they couldn’t find the missing arms. He tried not to think too hard about any of it. He just kept moving rocks, stacking them carefully over body after body after body.

“Nico?”

Wolfwood looked up from the latest stack. The sun had moved across the sky. Vash was standing near him with a water bottle. “Here,” he said quietly. “Are you hungry?”

He wasn’t. He was barely even thirsty, but he forced himself to down some and dump some more over his head and neck. “How long have I been working?” he asked hoarsely.

“It’s been a few hours. I think I got the truck working.” Vash took the water bottle back. “It has a built-in solar recharger, so the battery’s topped up. We just have to figure out where we’re going.”

“Anywhere that isn’t here sounds good.” Wolfwood looked down at his hands. They were coated in dust, and the rough edges of the stones were starting to bite into his skin. He’d tear right through if he wasn’t careful. It wasn’t until Vash gently took his hand that Wolfwood noticed he’d popped his arm back on. “Good thing they didn’t break that.”

“Yeah.” The smooth surface of his prosthetic fingers slid over Wolfwood’s palm, as if testing the integrity of his skin. “You should wrap these. Come on.”

Wolfwood let himself be led to the truck. Details about Vash filtered in as his mind started settling back into his body. He’d put on some clothes and shoes along with his coat. His hair was starting to flop back down into his face. His eyes were tired, tired, tired, but focused as he cleaned off Wolfwood’s hands. The water evaporated almost instantly in the heat. “Are you okay?” Vash asked.

“Are you?” Wolfwood retorted.

“I’m not the one who’s been on autopilot for hours.”

“I’m not the one whose brother…” Wolfwood took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“…no. No, you’re right.” Vash dug one of the random shirts Wolfwood had grabbed out of his back. “Honestly, I’m…not great.” He grabbed the hem and tore fiercely, tearing a long strip off starting from the bottom. “I’m not doing great.”

He kept tearing. The destruction seemed to do him some good, because when he’d gathered enough cloth to wrap around Wolfwood’s hands, his next words came easily.

“I don’t like being angry. I don’t like how it makes me feel. But I’m so angry at him right now, and I don’t know what to do with it. Has that ever happened to you? You get angry and it just…” He tied off the makeshift wrap. “…sits there? Right here.” He tapped his chest, right on his sternum. “I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“Think that might be heartburn,” Wolfwood said. The joke was instinctive, but he knew it wasn’t what Vash needed right now. He forced himself to be serious: “I get what you mean. I do.”

“How do you deal with it?”

Wolfwood snorted. “You don’t want my advice on that. Did Brad never tell you I broke his nose?”

“Fractured his orbital bone,” Vash corrected. “But yeah, he told me. And that you broke a tablet.” He didn’t sound disappointed or shocked at all. “Usually, when I’m mad about something, I can figure out a way to fix things instead. That’s part of why I come out here. But I don’t know what to do about this.” Vash met Wolfwood’s eyes. “I’m not that crazy, am I?”

That felt like a trick question. “I’m gonna need some more context for that one, kid.”

“I mean…I’ve tried to talk to him about things before, but it feels like he doesn’t hear me. Ever. So, either I’m crazy and I’m not making sense, which I can fix, or he doesn’t want to listen, which I can’t fix. And that would also mean that a guy who’s been falling through portals scattered around my life cares more about me than my own twin.” Vash let out a strangled laugh and tore another strip of fabric. “Which, as much as I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, is kind of messed up.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is fucked.”

“There’s kids around, you know.”

“They’ve heard worse by now.” Or at least, he had by that age. “Listen, you probably don’t want to hear this, but your brother isn’t a good person.”

“Like your uncle. How did you…?”

Wolfwood grimaced. “I…shot him, actually. In my defense, he shot me first, so I figure that made us even.” His free hand strayed to his side, to the place where there had once been a scar. “Don’t ask me if it was fatal. I didn’t stick around to check. But I shot him, and I ran, and I found someplace safe. Have you called Ship Three yet?” Vash shook his head. “Maybe you should.”

It was the last thing Wolfwood ever thought he would say, but the way Vash had described the place made it sound better than out here. He just hoped Brad and Luida had actually put in some effort.

“Okay,” Vash said. “Okay, I’ll call. Thanks, Nico.”

“For what?”

“Listening.”

Vash walked a safe distance away to start speaking into that device of his. Wolfwood stared after him, suddenly too tired to stand back up.

He wished it could be that simple for Vash, that all he’d have to do was break things off with Knives and run back to Ship Three. He knew better, though. Wolfwood’s uncle had never bothered looking for him, assuming the son of a bitch had survived, because he didn’t care. He’d never wanted Wolfwood anyway. But Knives did want Vash for whatever crazy scheme he was cooking up. He wanted Vash shattered to pieces, malleable. And he’d never stop until he got that.

I should have taken the shot.

But he hadn’t. All he could do now was keep driving a wedge between Vash and Knives. Make it so a few decades from now, going back to July was unthinkable. Or at least, going back to negotiate was unthinkable.

Sorry, me, Wolfwood thought as he pulled out a cigarette. If this goes well, our job is gonna be a lot harder.

Future him would just have to deal with that.

Vash walked back over as Wolfwood lit his cigarette. He had a few new tear tracks on his face, but he looked relieved. “Someone can pick me up,” he said. “I know where to go. I don’t know what it will mean for the others, but it’s better than here.”

“Sounds good to me.” Wolfwood took a long drag from the cigarette. “So? Where to, co-captain?”

Vash smiled, and Wolfwood was relieved to see it looked genuine. “East,” he said. “We’re going east.”

East it was. Hopefully, no trouble would follow them that way. Especially if that trouble’s name was Millions Knives.

They buried the last of the bodies, gathered what supplies they could find, and drove east. It was almost two straight days of near-continuous driving, and they were two of the most awkward days of Wolfwood’s life.

No one really knew what to do with each other. The survivors were wrapped up in their grief. Vash was still in pain, and napped to escape it. Wolfwood still felt the haze of his guilt trying to drag him under, along with all the aches and pains he’d accumulated since this whole mess started.

(His ankle still looked fine. Wolfwood was still afraid to ask Vash what he might have done to it.)

Vash, on the rare occasion he did talk, didn’t bring up Knives again. He tried to talk to the kids (they just stared at him), then the adults (who gave short, terse answers and sounded like they were scared he’d go full Knives on them), then Wolfwood (the ensuing debate about the merits of mechanical versus animal transport killed a few hours, even if that came at the cost of Wolfwood having to admit he had no clue how to ride and had eaten dirt every time he tried to learn). At least most of the adults knew how to drive well. He didn’t have to deal with Meryl Stryfe’s ability to find every pot hole in her path.

Scratch that. He would’ve preferred it if Meryl were there. Her driving may have been bad enough to put the fear of God in the staunchest atheist, but she’d probably do a better job helping Vash find answers than Wolfwood.

The relief Wolfwood felt when he saw signs of civilization felt like having a glass of ice water dumped on his head. “This the place?” he asked.

Vash discretely checked one of the many gizmos he had tucked in his coat’s seemingly endless pockets. “This is it,” he confirmed. “Hopefully, they won’t think we’re here to cause trouble.”

Wolfwood kept one hand on his rifle as they got out of the truck, just in case. They got a few odd glances, but no one tried to talk to them, which was fine by Wolfwood. “Right, we’re off,” he said as he tossed the keys to the vice-foreman. “You can keep driving…sell the thing…whatever you want, I don’t really care.”

She caught the keys and stared at the two of them. “That’s all? Really?”

“What, you want a kiss or something?”

Vash rested a hand on Wolfwood’s shoulder and shot the vice-foreman a reassuring smile. “That’s all. No bad blood from me, I promise.” The vice-foreman looked immediately confused. Vash kept on smiling. “Just be safe. You can do something better now. Look after each other…” He turned and started walking away. “Look after other people, too.”

The vice-foreman’s baffled eyes locked onto Wolfwood. He shrugged. “You heard the man,” he said as he turned to follow Vash. “Ash and sackcloth.”

And that was that. They walked into town and no one tried to stop them. It felt anticlimactic, but Wolfwood wasn’t going to complain. He’d had enough craziness to last him two lifetimes.

“Do we need to get a hotel?” Wolfwood asked.

“I don’t know,” Vash said. “They said our people were about two days out, too, so I might just have to – “

“Vash!”

Wolfwood recognized that voice. It took him a second to spot its owner, though. Brad was out of his Ship Three uniform, wearing a battered brown jacket and jeans, but it was definitely him.

Wolfwood still wasn’t sure how he felt about the man. The look on Vash’s face nudged him towards a more positive opinion: joy, then relief, then crumpling under the weight of everything he’d been through. When he dodged his way through the crowd and reached Brad, the man didn’t hesitate to give Vash a tight hug. Vash sank into the embrace with shaking shoulders. Safe to cry.

He's okay now.

As if on cue, Wolfwood felt that familiar, someone-hovering-over-him feeling again. A portal had formed at the end of a nearby alley. When he looked back, Brad had his back to him and was examining Vash’s visible bruises like a mother thomas fussing over her chick. Vash glanced over Brad’s shoulder and caught Wolfwood’s eye. Wolfwood tilted his head towards the alley, then pointed to Vash and gave him a questioning thumb’s up. You good?

Vash smiled and nodded.

He was safe. He’d be back on the ship soon. Wolfwood had done as much as he could. It was time for him to go. Still, he lingered by the alley entrance until Vash and Brad vanished into the crowd.

The eldest of the depot kids had wandered into town with the adults. They looked overwhelmed by all the people, but determined. Maybe this would be a good place for them. Maybe they’d get a second chance here.

He just hoped they used it for something good.

Wolfwood slipped his hand into his pocket as he stepped towards the portal. He still had his lighter. He hadn’t had the chance to give it to Vash.

Next time, he thought as he stepped through.

I’ll give it to him next time.

#three guesses who shows up in this chapter first two don't count #trigun #trigun stampede #fic: the unknowable tomorrow

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marshmallowprotection · 2 years

Text

Trick or Trick

Mystictober Day 31: Halloween Collab W/ @jennis-one-shot Description: "MC thinks they're going to the RFA's Charity Halloween Gala... but as it turns out, they're going to a different kind of scary party all together."

After getting in you paid no more attention to the surroundings for the time being. Driver Kim knew where to bring you according to Jumin’s promise over the messenger, although the exchanged conversation had happened over two hours ago. It’s somewhat confusing considering the party’s held downtown where the apartment you’re currently staying at was built. But you hadn't really questioned. Maybe there was traffic, or more likely simple construction sites that had to be bypassed.

Whatever the reason might’ve been, it’s nothing to worry much over. The RFA’s quiet in the chatroom ever since you entered the car. At some point you decided to just play one of your new phone dating sims; after your friend let you in on it, it became a real addiction. Some of the characters reminded you of old or current acquaintances that had crossed your life in one way or another. Trees and bushes flew past you and slowly but surely that fact got deeper under your skin. The ride became jerky over time and at the latest when you peeked out the window to find nothing but forest, you started to worry. Where the good God was this driver taking you? You should’ve arrived at the festival almost two hours ago.

You tried making out the face of his in the rearview mirror, however, it’s too dark to make out any personal features. “Um, excuse me but...” You gazed back down to the corner of the phone; having your voice stuck in the back of your throat. Since when did the connection vanish? “Ah? What?” This was becoming more and more ridiculous.

Didn’t you have connection before sitting down in the car? Was that the reason for Yoosung to not answer your latest text? You told him that you’re on your way and normally he sent a silly sticker back to acknowledge the information you shared for safety reasons. This time there’s none of that kind.

“I’m sorry but where exactly are you taking me? You know the Halloween party is downtown, right?” Perhaps it’s considered rude to doubt the driver’s skills, you couldn’t help the bad gut feeling though. Something about this left the tips of your fingers to freeze. The abrupt stop pressed the seatbelt into your belly, making you wheeze out the already thin air. Blinking away the sudden shift you turned back to the window only to meet the closure of the forest. “The hell...” You mumbled out as you swiped your phone’s features down in order to find the flashlight setting; you couldn’t make out a thing. “What is it, sweetie?” Getting addressed by such an inappropriate nickname out of the blue had you gasp silently. He reached up to turn on the small light inside the car, the smile that met you afterwards sent a chilling shudder down your spine. “Didn't you order a taxi? I can’t remember it to be the opposite.” The faded noises of nature blurred out of your focus. “I...” You’ve seen Mr. Kim before, and this man had not a single similarity with Jumin’s personal driver. These icy blue eyes that stared back, paired with one of the calmest albeit wicked smirks you’ve ever seen. An unknown man sat in the driver seat; now a clicking sound echoed in the back of your head. Color ran dry inside your face when you pressed yourself deeper into the leather seat of the car. “Who- What...” The guy your age smiled wider; his hand held onto the other seat as he turned back more. Shocking white hair almost shimmering under the dim, yellow light of the car. He even wore a mask and your adrenaline shot through the roof when realizing he must’ve taken you somewhere completely different. Anywhere but the RFA Halloween festival.

“You took a long time to understand the situation, dear party coordinator.” He chuckled the words out. “I’d say you should work on your gut instinct. But that’s pretty useless now.” He left the car faster than you could process; having your heart hammer in the tips of your ears. He knew you. That man was aware of your position in the RFA. He even located your current position and slowly the puzzle pieces formed the whole picture together. How have you not seen the danger the moment you stepped into the car without getting a greeting in return? The moment he opened the car door you hectically unbuckled yourself to jerk away from his hand reaching out. “YOU- You get away from me! You’re one of the- the...” Well, what were they? He raised an eyebrow by your intense reaction, looking so much bigger due to the pitch-black night outside of the car. “I’m what? Do you think you know?” He asked in a mocking tone. “Perhaps you do know... I’m the one who brought you to the apartment, after all.” Your attempt to slap his hand ended in vain as he’s quicker in movement and took hold of your ankle. The force behind his action made you hiss out in pain. The guy immediately loosened his grip seeing you pinch an eye close. Regardless, he made no effort to let go despite you wiggling in his grip. “It’s no use fighting, darling.” He tugged again. “You’re at the end of the world... Nobody will be able to rescue you.” The horror on your face seemed to amuse him.

“Be good and do what I say if you don’t want me to hurt you.” The words cut through your fear and left you no choice but to behave. You knew he’s not joking.

After driving for so long you truly had to be somewhere out of town; it wouldn’t surprise you if you’re out of Korea even. Feeling weak because of all the fear it took you a good moment to come out. Your legs wobbled as the stranger locked the car up. Why did he come for you now? Where were you? What would he do now that you’re basically served on a silver platter in front of his feet? The more your thoughts wandered the harder it was keeping tears of desperation repressed.

Now that you’re standing outside, the cold air made you shiver to the bone. October came with a weird taste of medium temperatures and yet there were winds that caused many to fall sick. The thousand colors of the leaves not visible around this time of the night, you forgot what time it was anyway. You hugged your arms for both comfort and warmth, doing your best avoiding the man’s gaze when keeping your eyes glued to the ground.

But the sudden touch on your elbow got you snapping your attention back up to his face. “Don’t shiver just yet,” He pulled, a subtle command to follow him. “I have planned something fun for you. I’m sure you will like it.” “Wh- Why did you bring me here...!?” You hissed out by accident. Luckily, he didn’t appear affected by your rude tone of voice. He just kept his grip tight while dragging you in front of a huge building decorated with a turquoise roof.

The spit stayed away as you found it hard to believe that what you’re perceiving is real in the first place. “Oh my God...” Breathless, the words fell over your lips unconsciously. Only the high hum of the stranger made you aware of your own reaction. “Glad you like it.” He looked over his shoulder for a split second, but that’s already enough to set you off again.

He ushered you in through a huge front entrance and inside the building itself was so much to examine that your vision got a little dizzy. Whitewashed walls mixed up with dark blue curtains and ceiling, somewhat giving the place a royal attitude. Some side tables with many species of flowers; most of them you didn't even know by name. But the decoration caught you off guard the most.

Some weird bats hung up on the walls, real pumpkins standing around in the corridors with judging stares engraved into their faces. There’s a struggle to have the place Halloween themed, yet it’s just that. A struggle. Since it appeared empty at the same time. “Don’t slack off.” His voice muttered directly at you, guiding you through this suspicious place as if it’s a children's play. For you it’s a massive headache given there were countless corners and floors that he pulled you through. There’s no chance in hell you’d remember the way out. Unless someone’s going to help, it’s not like there weren’t other people that passed by.

Beyond your hope, something whispered into your head that neither the people nor this guy would be kind enough to help you back home. The people wore costumes, however, they all had one thing in common; their faces were mostly covered or hidden under thick hoods and masks. Like they couldn’t afford being recognized by anyone.

Most walked with their heads lowered, it’s odd for sure. “We're here.” The unknown man came to an hold in front of a door that’s looking like every other.

“Where...?” You wondered hesitantly, watching a certain shimmer rush over his eyes as he pushed the door open. “You’ll see soon enough.” Obligated to obey, you let him bring you inside a small room with only one table. Clothing’s placed down tidily as he leaned against the door with his back. Was he blocking it on purpose? “This is your costume for tonight. Thank me, right?” You inhaled sharply.

Having the role of the party coordinator left you the choice not to dress up for the party; much like for the rest of the RFA. And this year you didn’t feel like dressing up as something particular. Nonetheless, him urging you changed the course of plans entirely. Not sharing his anticipation, you still walked over to figure out what he’s seeking to dress you up in. Why was he into this at all? So many questions.

It surprised you that it’s a yellow-colored outfit, reminded you of a specific Disney princess you’ve watched in your childhood. “Is that... A Belle costume!?” You squeaked and the stranger threw his head back when laughing. “Haha! Your reaction is just like I expected.”

With the fabric between your fingers, you turned around to read his expression. Or any little hint letting you know this was a big joke. Disappointment spread bitterly over your tongue as he waved his hand when leaving the room. “You have ten minutes.” He said shortly.

“I come back in whether you’re finished or not. So don’t waste time.” And with that, the door’s closed in your face. The snapping sound of a key letting you face the reality of being locked in.

Panic suffocated your chest; was this for real? Ten minutes? Why the hell should you dress up as Belle from all available costumes on this planet? Your eyes searched for some clue, a lack in security to escape. It didn’t take long until you came to terms with defeat and instead focused on getting the outfit on before he’s going to bust into the room.

Clumsily yet determined you managed to have it sit right a few minutes later. To be honest with yourself, it was a pretty costume. It didn’t feel cheap either. The fabric shimmered whenever you tilted it into different angles. You probably should’ve been fonder of your safety and tried breaking down the door; but once you made a reality check with your current situation it’s obvious you had no way out. The clock above the entrance did its job, ticking endlessly and after twenty minutes you felt deeply unsettled once again.

Didn’t he want to come back ten minutes ago? Where did he leave to? You fell out of thoughts by the vibration of your phone at the table, acquainted with the type of texting that popped up on your lock screen. The username and profile picture familiar much against your liking.

▹ Unknown: Are you ready to play, dear royalty? The nickname as upsetting as before. You scanned the room from top to bottom, feeling the little rest of courage leave your system. Knowing you couldn’t procrastinate on your fate any longer you opened the messenger while biting your lip bloody.

▹You: I thought you come back after ten minutes... ▹Unknown: Change of plan. Tough luck, I know. You frowned annoyed at the cocky response. Who did he think he was, really. Hopefully Seven or someone else noticed your absence and came to track your phone to rescue you. That’s the only thing you could bet on for the time being.

▹Unknown: We play a game tonight... So go to the garden. I’m sure you’re smart enough to find it^^

What an insinuation. You cracked the door handle and for some reason the door actually opened up. Did he pass by to unlock it? This entire guessing game left your mind spinning. Weary, you observed the empty floor; nobody and nothing to find. Which didn’t mean you could put your caution to rest. He spoke of a game in the messages, it could mean literally anything.

As you slowly reached the end of the corridor, you could examine the beautiful garden on the other side of the windowpane. If it wasn’t almost worth being kidnapped for this outstanding view alone, you stopped in your tracks to just admire the flowers blooming under the moonlight. It’s somewhat ruined as there were tables and weird fake hedges put up. Although there’s some distance, you��re able to tell they’re not real.

You sighed. The smell of something undefinable sweet filled your nose; it’s nothing you’ve ever smelled before. If this game happened outside, perhaps the stranger named Unknown in the messenger prepared things with the help of the hedges, despite your prayers that not to be the case. Sadly your luck seemed to have run dry ever since he picked you up in front of the apartment. The buzz of your phone proved a small presumption you wished so badly to be false.

▹Unknown: Go out already and don’t stand there like an idiot. Let’s celebrate Halloween for what it is, hmm? We play like adults. I promise it will be fun.

However it’s possible; he’s aware of your whereabout and actions. Which could only mean one thing. Unknown was able to track and see you. Another shudder ran down your back after you took a deep breath and turned the doorknob to step outside. Your intuition told you this would be a lot to deal with, but nothing fun.

—

There was not a doubt in your mind that he was going to push you into doing something you didn't like. This was the hacker, after all. He managed to manipulate everyone you knew many times and at this point, you had no idea what he was capable of.

Even if he was playing a game at this point that was meant to be out of your control, you didn’t know how long that game might last, even if he was allowing you to think you had a semblance of control, you didn't know how long that would last, and even if you figured out the way out of here, there was no chance it would help.

It wasn't like he was giving you a say in anything.

This was something that he had created specifically to get under your skin.You knew that you had to play along with everything because he held all the cards. He can make you do anything, you thought. You didn't know where you were or how to get back. It didn't even matter at that point that you had a phone.

The connection wouldn't lead to anything but him.

You tried to send something back to the RFA but it just glitched and errored out. You weren't sure how far you were from the apartment, much less the city, and you blamed yourself for not thinking more clearly. This was your problem. You always trusted your gut and it didn't matter if your gut was wrong. You went through with it every single time.

Jumin had told you that it would be Driver Kim.

You trusted that without a doubt. You didn't even think to talk to him at first because it was always him who came to get you. It was that blind trust that had led you to this situation. It wasn't a bad thing, but now you were starting to regret how much you trusted yourself and the people around you. You always wanted to see the good in people. That's why you trusted him in the first place. Unknown wanted you to squirm when you thought about it.

Your phone buzzed again.

▹Unknown: Good. You’ve started walking. Now, if you haven’t noticed, you’re standing in front of a maze. I'm sure that somebody like you knows exactly what these things are all about.

▹Unknown: People assume that it's fun and games to send children into a labyrinth. But, is it? Is it supposed to be fun to send somebody into a never-ending maze that seemingly has no way out? Don't you think that's the only metaphor for Halloween that makes sense?

▹Unknown: I think it is. It's reflective of what the world truly is. You never know what's going to get you as it's waiting around the corner. Is it a savior, or is it a monster? People like to think there's always someone waiting for you on the other side that's going to save you from the monster. Well, I'm here to tell you that that's not the case.

▹Unknown: In this world of monsters and ghouls, there’s only evil waiting around the corner. There is no treat on the other side for people. Don't you know? That's what Halloween is all about. It's not about people having fun or getting treats. The real lesson is showing people that only good children are able to be rewarded. If you’re not allowed to partake, you’re just a trick. You can never have a treat if all you've ever been is a trick.

▹You: People say Trick or Treat for a reason. Do you mean to say that you only care about tricks?

▹Unknown: Haha…

▹Unknown: The real trick is letting people assume there’s always been a treat on the other side of their pleading.

▹Unknown: Let's not waste any more time on your foolish questions. The only thing that I need you to do is play along with my little game. If you do what I tell you and go along with it, maybe I'll let you have a reward at the end of the night. What do you say? It's not like you have anywhere else to be.

▹You: …

▹Unknown: Good. Now it’s very simple. All you need to do is escape my maze before the clock runs out. That doesn't sound very complicated, does it? I'm sure you've done this many times before in your childhood. It was a privilege for you. It was a fun little game for you to play just like all the other people in this world that think this is a game. Well, this is a treat for me. Do you think that you can get out?

▹You: Are you just going to watch me walk around this maze all night?

▹Unknown: Wouldn't you like to know, Party Coordinator?

▹Unknown: I think it's much more fun if you don't know what sorts of tricks are waiting for you inside. Maybe if you're lucky, you'll run into a treat.

▹You: You said there are no treats.

There was no response after that. You had no choice but to put your phone away and figure out what you were going to do. There were so many ways to go inside the labyrinth that every time you turned around it felt like you were losing yourself. It was twisting and turning around you every time you found a new corner. Every time you thought you were close to something, it turned into a dead end. There was no way to figure out which way was left and which way was right.

To you, it felt like this had been purposely designed to have no end in sight.

If you didn't know any better, you might have thought that he was watching from somewhere above that had given him a view of the entire maze. It was too dark for you to see if there were any cameras hiding in the tall grass. It was possible that he was watching you from a computer but you weren't entirely sure. Maybe that was his entire point? He wanted you to be afraid of what could happen instead of what might actually happen.

It was a way of making you feel afraid of everything. If you couldn't even trust the rules that you had been given, what could you trust? What could you believe if he could easily take it away? The only thing that you knew about the hacker was that he was crafty.

He knew how to say things without letting anyone be the wiser about what they meant. It was how he had easily tricked you to go into the apartment in the first place. He told you one story and made it more and more intricate as it went along. It was easier to believe him that way. It was hard to doubt him when he made it sound so simple. Unknown made it seem so casual to pop into the apartment and leave a note. It seemed to be the same way that he had led you into the situation, too.

The only thing that you could do was take a deep breath and hope that you could figure this out. It was obvious that he was amused by how frantic you were becoming. Whether it was a trick of the imagination or something else, you could hear the sound of somebody laughing in the distance. It was that haughty and menacing laughter that had taunted you moments prior. He was getting a kick of how frantic you were becoming.

Your outfit wasn’t making it easier to navigate things. The path that you were following was narrowing by the minute. You didn’t think your eyes were playing tricks on you in the dark. There was no doubt in your mind that you could feel the thickets of thorns digging into the fabric. It felt like you were going to trip over your own feet if you continue to push through. Yet, you didn't want to stop yourself.

There had to be a trick to this, you thought.

But, there wasn’t. There wasn't enough light in the path to tell you where to go. It felt like every corner was the same as the last.

The only thing that told you that you were making any progress was the sound of his voice taunting you from afar. His voice wasn't clear but it was the one thing you could use. You had no way of knowing if you were heading back to the start of the maze or if you had gotten any closer to the end. It felt like your lungs were getting tighter inside your chest. Your anxiety was getting the better of you, too.

It was like a merry-go-round that wouldn't stop no matter how much you felt like you needed to get off. Even if you could pretend that you were cool, calm, and collected, there was no way that you could keep it up forever. You thought you could handle things that were thrown your way but even you had to admit that sometimes it was too much for you to bear. So much had happened since you’d first spoken to this man on your phone but now it felt like it was coming to a stuttering conclusion.

You took a left turn, then a right turn, then you went straight for a while, then you felt like you hit another wall, and then you had to repeat the process over and over and over again. Nothing that you did felt like it was getting you further. There were no lights or clues along the way. It was you, the darkness, and just the sounds of nature haunting you.

▹Unknown: What’s the matter, your highness? Are you getting scared that the wolves are going to catch up to you?

▹Unknown: You know what? I'll give you a hint that should motivate you. What’s the most dangerous thing in the world?

He was taunting you just because he could. Logically, you knew that there was only so much that he could do to you. You had no idea what he wanted to do with the RFA, but you knew that whatever he wanted to do to you to hurt them meant that he couldn’t remove you from this planet. Whatever it was that had made him so mad in the first place couldn't make him do something so terrible to you. He needed you intact.

If that wasn't the case, he could have done something a lot worse to you a long time ago and you wouldn’t have been here in the first place.

Right?

You went to put your phone away but you felt a hot puff of air against the back of your throat just as you began to lower your arm. Any thought that you had in your head was thrown out of the window almost instantaneously. Your skin began to crawl and your heart stopped briefly if only to pause before it started to thump loudly in your ears.

“It’s me.”

The shrill sound that echoed in that area, was you. Yet, you paid no mind to that because there was no reason for you to think about it. The only thing that you could think about was getting out of that dark and menacing tunnel that you had been lured into like a moth to the flame. It didn't matter if you were the bravest person in the world.

You’d been lured to a location with somebody that you didn't know. He was pushing you around and you had no idea what he was capable of.

Even if he was playing a game, you weren't sure you wanted to play along for his amusement anymore. It was becoming scarier by the minute. If he was following you around that meant that he was waiting for you to reach the right moment when he could do something. It wasn’t what you wanted to do. He never said that he was going to be chasing you down through the maze. He just said that you had to make it out to the other side.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Unknown’s laughter echoed all around you. You scrambled to find your way out of the spot you were in but at this point, it felt like you were seeing spots. You had to find a way out of here before he decided to change the way the game was presented. This was his game and he was the one that made the rules. There was nothing that said that he couldn't change his mind halfway through. It hadn't been clear to you what his game plan had been from the start.

The only thought in your mind had been: he wanted to see you squirm. It was like he found pleasure in the misery of others. It wouldn't surprise you if that was the case given how far he had gone to make you feel as though you were truly powerless in the face of every ability that he had amassed. It didn't matter. This wasn't the Halloween you wanted to play around and find out.

You stumbled through the thicket and found yourself pushing through the brush until you fell outside of it, tumbling on top of the pavement. You were breathing hard yet you could see that you were free from the labyrinth. Relief filled your veins as you realized that you made it out of his trap. You didn't know what the reward was for getting out but you knew that it had to be a better option than playing cat and mouse.

It was obvious that you needed to keep going but it wasn't like you knew where you were.

Even if you stumbled out of that place there was no way in hell that you were going to be able to get back to the car and figure out how to get back to the city. No matter what you tried you were going to be trapped. Unknown knew that. It had to be why the sounds of his footsteps had never gotten louder behind you. He knew he could walk because you were too terrified to turn around. You had played right into his trap. There were no treats. There were only tricks to be hard. What kind of lesson was he trying to teach you with this game?

It took a lot of work, but you managed to pull yourself off of the ground, and you realized that the area surrounding you had been decorated for a party. There were lights, streamers, candles, and decorative objects all over. For somebody who didn't seem to like the holiday, it felt like he had gotten a little too excited about the whole thing. It was kind of amazing. You dusted off the dirt but felt perplexed.

Had he tried to frighten you so badly just to bring you to a party?

You didn’t know what to say. You stood there, lost in thought, and it wasn’t long before Unknown found you. You knew he was coming from the sounds of his boots against the ground but you didn’t run this time. Instead, you stared at the fountain which shimmered with a liquid blue that seemed too bright to be natural. Who was this guy and what did he want? What was his purpose in doing any of this?

“I see you’ve won our little wager,” he said.

“And?” you countered, spinning around to face the masked man with piercing eyes. “What was the point in any of that? Is this just an elaborate scheme to terrify me out of my mind? I could have gotten this from the RFA. What's the point of trying to scare me like this? I don't get why you're doing any of this.”

Unknown’s hand was quick to grasp at your waist, yanking you forward so that you settled against his chest and had to look at him. “Oh, but you see, that’s the point. This is all about teaching them the true spirit of Halloween. They think that it's fair to play trick or treat by any means possible. It's a game to them when they have fun and think that their monsters are only real in their imagination. Those people are easily manipulated by the outside world. They think it's great to play these games when there are children who don't get to decide between getting a trick or treat.”

His hot breath fanned against your cheek. You couldn't help but quiver as the intensity of his words begin to invade your senses. “Why did they get to decide who gets what? Is it fair that some child gets nothing but a game of tricks over and over again? Why is it that they get all the sweet treats and people like me get nothing but a bag of rotten eggs? Do you think that's fair? Do you think it's okay for people to decide who is right and who is wrong?”

“I mean, think about it. Why do they get to decide who gets to have something sweet when somebody else's left out in the cold? Is it fair for them to think that they're allowed to believe that the world is justified as it is? Do you think it's okay that they get to lock away the monsters that they assume are evil just because of the way that they act or feel? After all, I thought that you said that you were the kind of person that doesn't judge a book by its cover… just like that princess you’re pretending to be,” his laugh was taunting at best, and judgemental at worst.

“So, I brought you here tonight to remind them of this reality. I think that I finally deserve to have a treat after all these years of being tricked. But do you even know what the best treat is for somebody like me? I'm sure you have your thoughts. But, the best treat for me is to play a trick on all of those suckers. I'm going to play the biggest trick on them and there’s nothing they can do about it. I made their party coordinator disappear. That's right, the treat for me is playing a trick on all of you.”

It was at that moment that a shiver ran down your spine. You knew that you weren't getting out of here. He had made that abundantly clear. It was all the more reason why he found it so easy to laugh at that petrified look in your eyes. Even if he was devilishly handsome underneath the moonlight, you knew that there was malicious intent in those eyes. Yet, his hand was gentle and didn’t pinch.

What was he?

“Happy Halloween,” Unknown whispered. He invaded every aspect of your personal and left you reeling, knees trembling, with nowhere to go but him. “I am the beast that takes good care of the princess.”

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