#anyway I screamed and cried and it was great

[srslylini]

the way Arcane wasted character in season 2 is actually insane. They gave us good character design but no good character. Especially the new ones. Is there honestly ONE, one you genuinely cried over?

I cried over Mylo and Claggor. I cried over Vander in season 1. I cried over Powder screaming and sobbing after Vi in act 1 of season 1. I felt deep emotional pain over all of this because they gave me character and an understanding of the world we are in. And they did all of that in 3, THREE, episodes.

What did they do with Isha? Well I sure didn't cry when she died. Her character, while interesting just wasn't fleshed out at all. What I felt when they killed her was how idiotic the writers were for that because okay? like huh. They had 5 episodes with Isha and somehow managed to not make me care enough to cry. Not because Isha's potential wasn't there but because killing her was stupid and pointless, just to further another characters pain which could happen way more naturally without introducing a character to die.

What did they do with Loris? They tried to make him Vander (which okay weird why do that? especially if you want to bring Vander back anyway like uhm? what was the sense of introducing Loris as a Vander stand in and then bringing Vander back??). But he WASN'T Vander because they never showed him to be. They just told me he was. Which doesn't work. okay, he died. Did not care. The only thing I felt was rage again because it was so unnecessary and dumb, they could have made a lot with this character.

Maddie. Well Maddie is a whole other thing, isn't she? She was introduced in a way that already raised a lot of eyebrows. But in a "she is a cop" way and not she is on Ambessas side way. There is so much questions coming up with that. Had she been on Ambessa's side from the very start? Even when we first saw her on screen? Did she come with Ambessa? But how was she an enforcer then? Did she always live in Piltover but how did she then turn towards Ambessa? When she made that fist sign, was the plot between Ambessa and her already going, or did it happen after that? Why were we not shown any of this? this is NECESSARY to understand her character and why the end happened. We should have been able to feel betrayed as well but like? I did not feel betrayed I was just like "okay well, that happened off screen I guess."

Steb had not one talking line, like why was he here, was I meant to feel bad when he ran into The Grey, I can't even tell, help.

And then the side characters of Zaun, especially the Jinxers. The one woman who then died with Vi's hand in hers while wearing the uniforms of Piltover. Did not feel sad. Felt absolute huge amount of unfiltered rage. Her character should have MEANT something. I feel they tried to make her mean something but they failed there too.

Lest?? LIKE LEST COULD HAVE ALSO BEEN USED IN SUCH AN INTERESTING WAY. She just never came back. Okay. Great, at least she didn't die but like? Was I meant to get invested? Was I meant to care? Usually I should be able to tell if I should care about a character in a show or not but in Arcane s2 they tried to make me care and failed or if I cared well then they failed, too

anyways just the side characters especially were a huge disappointment this time around.

[betta-phish]

my thoughts rn rkfjdjsnfjsmdnfjmdjfidncksnschfi 🤭👍

[softpine]

i have to tell you guys i’m not a skeptic anymore, i believe in ghosts now and my cousin can see dead people for real :D

[guinevereslancelot]

slowly gaining the favor of the one child who hates everyone. i am the toddler whisperer 😌

[flythesail]

I FINISHED VICTORY'S PRICE

[because-its-eurovision]

.

[thelov3lybookworm]

My World

Day 1: Cool quiet.

Summary: Y/n's in labour. Azriel needs to stay calm.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 805

Warnings: labour ig? azzie being scared and sad cus yn is in pain :(

A/n: HAPPY DAY 1 OF @azrielappreciationweek YALL WOOHOOOO 🥳

all fics in the week will be like a series cus theyre all revolving around azzie and his daughter hehe but it isnt a series ig?

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Rhysand did not see the shift in his spymaster. Did not see the way he stiffened, the way his eyes went distant before focusing again, fist clenched.

He said no words, nothing to indicate he knew his mate was going into labour. And if the meeting with Keir had not ended when it had and Azriel hadn’t immediately winnowed away without preamble, Rhys wouldn’t have even known.

Even when Rhysand and Cassian followed their brother to his house on the outskirts of Velaris, welcomed by agonising screams of Azriel’s mate, Rhysand saw him stand quietly in the hallway.

Rhysand could not fathom being that cool, that quiet if he knew Feyre was in labour.

He had to give it to Azriel, the male was great at hiding his weaknesses. And Rhysand would have been convinced he was still composed had he not seen that in the dark corridor, light glinted off of the tears rolling down his cheeks.

Azriel still did not move, standing still against the wall with his hands folded behind his back.

It shook Rhys more than him pacing and losing his mind would have.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel’s pov.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to curse himself out loud. After all, he was the reason his darling mate was going through the pain of birth.

Should’ve resisted when she said she wanted kids.

But alas, it was now too late to do anything but stand here helpless as he heard her loud cries of pain from their bedroom.

"I- Azriel! Az-"

It took all Azriel had in him to stand outside while his mate, his wife went through unbearable pain he knew he could not even fathom of. Having your privates stretched while you had to push out a literal being was something he knew his worst wounds would look like paper cuts in comparison.

It made him respect females more at the moment.

Through the bond, he felt flashes of hot agony and cold pain, but he was aware it was nothing, nothing compared to what his mate was going through.

The door opened the slightest bit, the worried eyes of an apprentice healer peeking out. "Spymaster? Madja said you can come in to soothe your mate."

Instantly, Azriel was hurrying inside the room, his eyes finding his mate lying on the bed.

Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm.

But how could he, seeing as the one person he could ruin the world for, was sobbing, tears running down her face in constant streams, aided by the sweat gathering on her skin?

He hurried over to her side, her palm instantly finding his.

"My love, I’m here."

She gasped in pain, nails digging into his palm.

Cool. Stay cool. It will be fine.

"Just one more push dear, then you can rest."

Azriel turned his head to Madja when she said that, relief spreading through his veins. At least the torture Y/n was going through would be over soon.

Y/n nodded, meeting Azriel’s eyes. Even while she was pushing out their baby, she found it in herself to offer him a weak smile.

Be calm.

Not even a moment after Y/n dropped back down on the bed with an exhausted sigh, loud cries filled the room. Azriel leaned down, placing his forehead against his mate’s. She smiled up at him, her eyes tired.

"No more babies. Y/n, I’m telling you, I cannot see you in pain."

Y/n had the audacity to pout. "But what if our baby gets lonely?"

He shook his head, kissing Y/n’s cheek. "I won’t let them get lonely."

He straightened when he heard footsteps approaching, lifting his head to look at Madja, who grinned at them over the baby’s head. "It’s a daughter."

Tears gathered in Azriel’s eyes as Madja leaned down, his daughter’s face coming into view for the first time. Azriel could not look away.

She’s beautiful.

Her eyes are so pretty.

She stared back at him with wide eyes.

Don’t cry. Stay calm. Stay quiet.

Fuck calm. Fuck quiet.

He let the tears fall as Y/n placed a hand on his arm, telling him to take his daughter. And even though he did not want to taint the pure soul made of him and his beloved, he extended his arms. Y/n had had the time of months to scold and train Azriel to not be scared of his own child.

The moment Madja stepped out of their room, Azriel let out an involuntary sob, accompanied by a look in his mate’s direction, who was crying too.

"I love her so much."

She nodded, giggling. "Me too." After a pause, she continued. "Hazel. That’s what we decided."

He nodded, unable to look away as he leaned down to press his lips to her tiny forehead.

"My world."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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@okaytrashpanda

[l-uminescent]

˚⁀➷｡˚ REVENGE [PART TWO TO KINSLAYER] ━━━ AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM! READER

part one.

synopsis: following your brave defeat of aemond targaryen in the battle of rook’s rest, your dragon silverwing delivers your body back to your mother in dragonstone. as you are discovered, a swearing of revenge is made as your body burns in its funeral pyre.

request: kinslayer is so good. would you ever write a little drabble to see the sadness of her family. especially her mother? also to see how this changed the dance. would you ever write a different ending? where before she fell silverwing saves her. like toothless did with hiccup. i adore it and need more. only if you want to of course.

notes: a bit longer than a drabble but i hope you enjoy anyways😭 thank you sm also to @dracaryxzs @hikaerys @delightfulbluebirdtidalwave & @quickamateur for requesting a part two of the black’s reaction to the reader’s death. i had so much fun exploring what the characters would feel like, esp jacaerys. tbh i don’t think i would write an alternative ending bc i just love writing angst wayyyy too much (it’s a problem)

there’s also a lack of jacaerys requests in my inbox which i think you should all fix by pressing here!

warnings: brief descriptions & mentions death, funeral pyre, angst, feelings of sadness after a death of loved one, burning, self-blame

word count: 1.9k

THE SHRIEKING SCREAM OF SILVERWING WAS THE ONLY THING THAT COULD BE HEARD FOR MILES. it was a shriek of pure pain, a cut wedged so deep had made its home in the poor dragon's heart as she had no choice but to watch on as you plunged your sword into aemond targaryen's eye. silverwing had tried her hardest to swoop down and rescue your body as both you and the man you loved plummeted to the ground in each other's arms. your limbs were intertwined with aemond's, your soul's holding the same love they had held many years ago in your final moments.

your body had crashed to the forest floor from the great height, dying immediately - still weaved with aemond's.

another heart-wrenching scream was heard from silverwing as the bond you two had shared had completely severed with your death. all she could do now was search the forest for you and bring back your fractured body to your mother. 

silverwing had gently picked up your body in her claws, so not to bring you anymore damage than the fall had done. she had completely disregarded the body of your previous lover, sword still plunged in his eye. small whimpers left her body as she rose slowly into the air flying back to dragonstone, having lost another rider had left the dragon in an immense amount of pain as you had reminded her greatly of the good queen alyssane, her first rider.

aegon having fled the battle the moment he had witnessed aemond's death had left rhaenys velaryon, your grandmother, with too little time to come to your aid. piercing cries escaped her lips as she could do nothing but watch you fall to your death. knowing this is what you had wanted still did not heed the tears that escaped her lilac eyes, nor did it stop the blame she held for herself as she accompanied your dragon back to dragonstone, wishing over and over that it had been her instead of you, something she knew she would wish until the end of her days. 

the shrieks of pain silverwing had let out alerted the dragon's on the island as she drew near. many stirred at the noise in fright, but none seemed to be as fretted as vermax, who had replied to silvering's bellow with one in return.

with the sound of her two children's dragon's shrieks, rhaenyra knew something was wrong. her gut instinct had told her something had happened to you, as jace remained safely within the castle. rushing to her balcony, she fixed her gaze intently across the sea for any sign of you, holding her breath as she noticed silverwing's flapping wings over the horizon. as she drew closer rhaenyra's eyes scanned her saddle, and noticing you weren't atop it her eyes flickered hastily down to her trembling claws. 

she was clutching your lifeless body. 

tears streamed down rhaenyra's face as she fell to the ground. uncontrallable sobs left her lips as her body violently shook in pain. admitting defeat she crumbled against the pillars of her balcony. as she did, her eyes bore into the sky above that painted in blues purples and oranges alike. she cursed at all the gods she could as it dawned on her this was what the sky held when lucerys had died just moons before. no amount of screams or curses at both the green's and gods would ever stop the blame that rhaenyra held for herself for your death, she knew you were not ready for battle yet she still sent you anyway. 

your heart still held onto the embers of girlhood which was seen in the way you teased jace, the joy you found when you played with your younger brother's and the soft smiled that adorned your lips as she combed and braided your hair with a gold plated brush. you were too young to pass. you were meant to outlive her, to live a happy life with a husband and children who you adored - something you would never get to do it now. rhaenyra's painful screams were carried off into the wind, her grief-stricken body stuck to the place she had fallen, as her gaze at the sky hardened. she swore that whatever force had killed you would be killed in return. she knew it would never bring you back, her only daughter was gone from this world, but she needed for herself to seek revenge in your name.

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

it had been jacaerys who had went to greet your dragon. the poor boy did not realise anything was amiss at first. he trodded happily down to your dragon to congratulate you on your first victory, proud of his younger sister. it wasn't until he noticed silverwing's sad demeanour, how her entire body trembled in despair, curled up into a ball not allowing any guard to pass through the wall she had made. as jace approached the dragon she murmured a small cry as she began to uncurl, the strange behaviour making his mind run rampant and tears start to prickle in his eyes.

no. no.

it was only a matter of seconds before jace's knees buckled, falling to floor where you lay stretched out on the floor. 

he couldn't believe it, you were so full of life only a mere few hours ago. 

reaching for you, he pulled your head onto his lap, cradling your body as he did. he couldn't stop the tears that poured from his cheeks landing softly on your skin, as sobs erupted from his lips. he had hoped in some delusional way, that you would somehow awake, that if he just stayed by your side cradling you, you would return and call him stupid for worrying so much.

the pain of lucerys had returned tenfold. he was meant to protect you, you were his younger sister for gods sake, only a year between the two of you, you had been as thick as theives. always teasing each other, throwing food across the table when petty arguments broke out. the two of you had stuck by each other's sides as you became aware of the questions that arose from the colour of your hair when luke was still too young to understand. you were meant to stay by his side, he had long since planned to make you his hand as you had always been there as his biggest advisor - the person he had trusted most in this world.

jacaerys like his mother, blamed himself. he should have been their to protect you, because that's what brother's are for, right?

there was no doubt he was a targaryen in that moment. his wetted eyes dried with a rage he had never felt before. he too swore at the sky, cursing every green, every god who had willed your fate, his voice breaking as he did. jacaerys did not care what life lay ahead of him in that moment, being heir was long from his mind as he bellowed that he would exact your revenge even if it meant he would die too. 

shallow breathes were taken as he brought his brown eyes onto your closed ones, still laying still in his lap. his anger had quickly faded at the sight of you again, his chest vibrating as he struggled to regain oxygen into his lungs. the softer side of jacaerys velaryon had once more returned as he allowed his forehead to rest against your cold one. his hands absentmindedly began to run through your hair, whispering soft "it will be okay" and "i love you's" as the tears silently fell from his glassy eyes, unsure of whether it was to reassure himself or you.

━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━

rain drops fell from the sky in a heavy rhythm, landing in small plops the cliff side where your family gathered for small funeral pyre after your body had be retrieved. it had been jacaerys who had suggested the place, knowing how you and luke had enjoyed coming up to sit peacefully and read together. 

the somber mood was evident as the rain continued to poor from the sky, each person having their heart ripped out from their chest all over again as they looked upon you body. you had almost looked like you were sleeping if it wasn't for the fact you had turned a sickly pale colour, and your chest failing to rise and fall with the inhale and exhale of oxygen.

the group of targaryen's, velaryon's and silverwing the dragon, gathered around the small wooden pyre as they said their final goodbye's to you. daemon had approached the wooden frame, placing the sword your drove deep into your lover's eye next to you that he had managed to retrieve. he hadn't been aware of how much the sword had meant to you, but to him it showed the fierce love and protection he had felt. despite not being his own daughter, he had loved you like one - always taking the time to teach you the art of sword fighting despite the other knight's looking down on it. he returned to his wife's side who nodded him in gratitude for loving her little girl the way a father should.

tears threatened to spill from jacaerys glassy eyes as he began to approach your body next, his hand clutched little joffrey's who was still too small to understand where his elder sister had left to and why she had yet to return. he had placed the letter's the two of you had exchanged when he had visited the north, the fascination you had for the wall had always brought a smile to his lips when you had asked him questions. even now, a watery smile played on his lips thinking of it as he returned to his place next to his mother. 

small sniffles could also be heard from the two targaryen girls - rhaena and baela - who stood on the opposite end of the pyre, the two girls reminiscing on the time you did spend together talking about boys, and giggling as you gossiped whilst sewing. their grandmother stood tall next to them as she gripped both their hands tightly, grounding herself with the thought that you would have wanted her to project the love she had for you onto your two cousins whom you had loved deeply.

the last to approach the pyre was your mother. her silent demeanour had been an obvious sign that her sadness had been replaced by a vicious anger that would not be calmed. leaning over the wood, she had placed the gold plated hair brush next to you, the very one she had combed your dark locks earlier that day creating the style you had always favoured, recalling how you had always begged her to do whilst you were still alive. 

rhaenyra's lips left a ghost of a kiss on your forehead before she stepped back. calling silverwing forward in high valyrian, the dragon let out a number of whimpers and cries as she knew what came next. 

"dracarys"

a single tear drop shed from rhaenyra's eyes as she turned away from the burning embers, her promise of revenge at the forefront of her mind. 

"broken by the loss of one son, rhaenyra targaryen seemed to find new strength in the loss of a second.��her eldest daughter's death hardened her, burning away her fears, leaving only her anger and her hatred."

[fic-dumpster]

How would bonten be like meeting your family? Would they get along or not or even expose some stuff by accident?

Tbh, I think something could happen and it doesn’t go as planned. Let’s pretend for this scenario that Doe has a family… 😂 . Anyway, Anonie… sorry it’s years late but here we are trying. I just rewrote this so I’ll edit it later!

Bonten x reader

WC: 1320

TW: Fluff, revers harem, sad attempt at comedy, crackfic, fb!Mochi, gun, sappy/cliche ending, kinda uh… weird. It’s a mess.

You’ve been preparing this week’s dinner for almost two months. Arranging everyone’s schedules and thinking of ways to explain to your family how you have… more than one partner.

It’s not that you didn’t want to tell your family about them. It’s just that the subject was never brought up before and your parents weren’t so concerned about prior relationships, but what you had right now was beginning to turn into something more serious.

So, yeah. Here you are waiting for your parents and the guys to arrive. Which turned into you having to distract your parents because nobody was home besides you and they were not picking up their phones.

You left messages to each one of them with phrases like…

“Sanzu Haruchiyo! I swear to whatever is holy to you that I will have you maimed and hanged when you get home!”

or

“Mikey!!! I will put all the sweets on the highest shelves and throw all the stools away! See how you’ll manage! And no boobs!”

or

“Kakucho? Baby? Please pick up… I’m worried.”

Well, you were fuming and trying your best to pretend everything was in order. Until you heard the door open and steps closing in. Finally someone!

But all your relief flew out of the window when you saw none other than Mochizuki Kanji walking towards you with a big smile on his face.

Oh, hell no… they were so dead. Each and every one of them was so dead.

“Honey!” You visibly tensed as you heard Mochi’s boisterous voice greet you like that.

“Mo-Mochi! Ho-honey!” And so playing along it was.

You were actually grateful at the end of the night. Mochi was such a great guy. You would have cried if you didn’t have to act too. He treated your family so nicely and your parents loved him.

Mochi had your dad enchanted with his baseball and stock market talk. Then your mom was so in love with him too. No complaints at the end. On the contrary, they were so proud of you for finally finding such a wonderful person.

As happy as you were for a successful dinner. You were internationally seething.

Once your parents left and the house was cleaned. You arched your eyebrow and directed an inquisitive look at Mochi.

“So?” You asked after a while.

“Something happened… I know, I know.” Mochi dragged his hands over his face and sighed. “You have every right to be mad, but let me ex—“

Just then, the sound of the door unlocking alerted you of their arrival, and multiple footsteps followed to confirm the quantity.

In a flash you had Mochi’s gun in hand, the poor man panicking after you and not even the devil himself could stop you now.

“Are any of you injured to the point of being at death’s door? Are you all alive and kicking?” You asked in a solemn voice. “Well?”

“We–we’re good…” said Kokonoi who was the closest to you watched a very worried Mochi stand behind you and shake his head in silence. Was he warning them not to do what?

“Good,” and with that, you pulled the gun that was too big for your hand.

A bunch of screams and alarmed voices came in from the seven men standing at your entrance.

“Baby— wait! Baby!”

“We– it’s not– Y/N!”

“Woah! Woah! Woah!”

“Y/N, put that down before you hurt yourself.”

So you took the safety off which earned you more screams and Sanzu hid behind Kokonoi, Rindou took cover in Ran’s back and Mikey was lost in the tumult of panicking men.

“Mochi why did you give her your gun!?!” Takeomi asked as he harshly pushed against the door by Sanzu trying to get as far away as possible from the barrel of your gun.

“I didn’t! She took it!”

“This is your fault!” Ran blamed it all on Sanzu. “You taught her how to use one! We were against it!”

“Shut up! All of you!” They all went quite deadly fast. “I had dinner with my boyfriend!” As you spoke, you moved the gun at each one of them and they all jumped back scared it would go off. Even Mikey was eyeing your shaking hand like a hawk. “So I don’t know who you all are! Go away!”

Again, you pointed the gun, they jumped and they also crushed Takeomi against the door for the tenth time. While the other screamed, Takeomi was grunting in pain at this point.

“Can we explain?” Kakucho asked with his hands up to show he surrendered.

“And you are?” You saw hurt flash in Kakucho’s eyes once your words were out, but you needed to stand your ground. They had done it this time. “Sure, explain unknown man.”

“But please can you put the gun down?” Kokonoi was sweating buckets from the way you waved the gun everywhere.

“I’m not gonna—“ and just like that it went off against the wall where the Haitani brothers stood. You heard Rindou screaming and Ran cursing every color of the rainbow.

You crossed eyes with each one of them and threw them a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, maybe I should put it down…” putting the safety back on, you handed it back to Mochi with a second apology in tow.

With your attention back to the group in your entrance you saw Rindou having a… moment…

“Oh my God! I almost died! Raaan! I saw my life flash through my eyes!” Rindou was crouched down hugging his brother’s leg. Said brother had a tired face on… like this was a common occurrence.

“Sanzu, this is your fault too,” Kokonoi added to the

“How is it my fault?!” Sanzu exclaimed with indignation and fury.

This calmed down after a bit. Reluctantly, you let them in and sat down to explain. You heard their excuses, the emergency at work and called bullshit until Mikey spoke last.

“We were scared.” He began with his signature seriousness and almost sad eyes. “Look at us. We aren’t the guys you take home to meet your mother.” As he kept talking, you saw how one by one they all turned their eyes away, sour looks and empty faces. One after another. “Mochi at least has the looks to pass as a normal civilian.”

You nodded, understanding where they were coming from. Pink, purple and white hair… tattoos all over their bodies… and scars… your heart broke for them. But your fury wasn’t gone just yet.

“And you think I care? You think I care what they think?” You stood up and walked over to Mikey, holding his shoulders tightly as you spoke. “If anyone, even my own family, speaks ill of any of you, I would have thrown them out. And never looked back. Understood? I… I have my own life here… a family… that we built together.”

Even if you wanted to add more to your speech, you weren’t able to. An avalanche of bodies suddenly rained down on you and the next thing Mikey saw was a cluster of bodies on his feet.

You could barely breathe under Rindou’s arm and probably Sanzu’s leg. Kakucho and Kokonoi tried to wrench them away but it was fruitless. Both were moaning and crying about the family they built with you. Ran facepalmed at his younger brother’s behavior but smiled nonetheless.

“Wait, where’s Takeomi?” You asked having not heard the man in a while.

“Here!” Everyone saw the eldest Bonten member at the kitchen counter with a first aid kit. “I’m just patching myself up.”

“But you said you weren’t injured?” You said from the floor and in between two sobbing men.

“I wasn’t…” Takeomi winced as he applied a bit more ointment. “yeah, having six people push you against a door was awful. 0/10 would not recommend.”

Meanwhile, Mochi cried in a corner as he saw his family happy together.

[woahjo]

The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.

The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.

When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity

All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.

Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3

A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.

Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else. 

The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost. 

Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment. 

The night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. Well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire. 

It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear. 

Your head is on a swivel. It has been for months. Ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. A paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. You swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters. 

A branch cracks just behind you. A swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. You stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a figure a few feet away from you. They move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. Their eyes, most importantly. You can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes and the sounds that their joints make. In this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell. 

You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse. 

"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent. 

You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight. 

"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula." 

The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these. 

You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity. 

"Do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent. 

You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands. 

Then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed." 

He stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs. 

"I didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him. 

"And that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. You wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you. 

"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?" 

The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit." 

You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane. 

"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid." 

"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess." 

The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now. 

"Got a name?" he asks. 

You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?” 

You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling. 

"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?" 

You nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat. 

"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am." 

He nods his understanding. 

"Come with me." 

"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both. 

"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed." 

You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost. 

He scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "Look, we've got men and women," then he pauses. "Used to have children. We're not gonna hurt you. World's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?" 

He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising. 

"We'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than I have to." 

"Okay," you say. The presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the press of fatigue even more. A gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? You must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "Do you take in a lot of strays?" 

Katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase. 

"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."

You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it. 

The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step. 

As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees. 

Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you. 

By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation? 

"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!" 

In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room. 

Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him. 

“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned." 

The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost. 

"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while." 

"Well, I'm back," he says. 

"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.

"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word. 

"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?" 

Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check." 

Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.

"You must be tired.” 

When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?" 

"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?" 

"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone." 

You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell? 

"Sounds like a good deal," you say. 

You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock. 

Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki. 

"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..." 

She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him. 

There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.

“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you. 

“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.” 

Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.

"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting. 

"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't." 

Those listening in the group nod their affirmation. 

"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?" 

“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.

"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day." 

The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen. 

"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this." 

Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it. 

"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can." 

You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months. 

The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up. 

They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit. 

“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks. 

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words. 

“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.” 

The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together. 

“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.” 

Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.” 

You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away. 

—

“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.

You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”  

You nod. 

“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.” 

She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric. 

You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet. 

The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks. 

You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them. 

You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant. 

The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing. 

The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge. 

Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring. 

There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark. 

The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back. 

The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit. 

Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway. 

Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.

The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment. 

The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now. 

The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner. 

Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner. 

“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?” 

You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.” 

Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.” 

You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group. 

“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows. 

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.” 

“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.” 

Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina. 

“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.” 

Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning. 

“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues. 

“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.” 

“Mhm,” Mina says. 

“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.” 

“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.” 

You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy. 

“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.” 

“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”

“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri. 

“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever. 

“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.” 

You swallow thick and nod a little. 

“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.” 

“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree. 

You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from. 

“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink. 

“Nothing really,” Mina says. 

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly. 

“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?” 

“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask. 

“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?” 

“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides. 

“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.” 

Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.” 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude. 

“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?” 

“I made it this far on my own,” you respond. 

Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.” 

He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.” 

“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds. 

“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.” 

Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in. 

When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us. 

— 

Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation. 

As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop. 

Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it. 

You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough. 

You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago. 

The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize. 

“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.” 

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.” 

“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.

“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.” 

“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?” 

“No one’s fuckin’ dying.” 

You recognize Katsuki’s voice. 

“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.” 

“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman. 

“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.” 

You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays. 

“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?” 

It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto. 

“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?” 

Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding. 

“I did,” you say. “Thank you.” 

“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.” 

You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg. 

“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit. 

“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.” 

Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find. 

“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts. 

“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod. 

Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look. 

“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.” 

“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen. 

You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop. 

“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.” 

She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you. 

“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.” 

You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes. 

You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary. 

Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant. 

“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.” 

You listen as you eat your crackers. 

“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.” 

She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat. 

“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.” 

Mina laughs a little. 

“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.” 

You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile. 

“You’re really forthcoming with information.” 

“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers. 

“Can you blame me?” 

Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked. 

“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.” 

“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you. 

This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop. 

“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder. 

You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down. 

When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl. 

It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it. 

Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.

You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula. 

“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper. 

Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.” 

His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely. 

“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering. 

Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners. 

Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at. 

Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now. 

You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly. 

The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask. 

Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from. 

These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back. 

Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it. 

Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it. 

Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from. 

Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.

Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it. 

Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him. 

There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up. 

“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones. 

“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward. 

The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind. 

You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks. 

“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.” 

“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion. 

“Got everything?” 

You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it. 

Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers. 

Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread. 

You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well. 

Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out. 

Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe. 

“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way. 

“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk. 

Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation. 

“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says. 

“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?” 

“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?” 

You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again. 

“How long are you staying?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something. 

“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?” 

“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm. 

She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world. 

“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.” 

Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way. 

“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.” 

The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb. 

—

After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days. 

You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any. 

You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it. 

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.

The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be. 

You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source. 

You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet. 

“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.” 

“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice. 

“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.” 

“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.” 

The group grows quiet for a moment. 

“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”

“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.

“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group. 

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”  

“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.” 

“That’s not fair,” Ochako says. 

“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?” 

“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.  

“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.” 

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?” 

“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?” 

“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.” 

“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?” 

“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.” 

“That works the other way too,” Mina adds. 

You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control. 

The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it. 

Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect? 

Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open. 

You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house. 

Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place. 

That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal. 

You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling. 

—

“Need some help?” You say. 

Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck. 

“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?” 

He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him. 

The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably. 

“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?” 

“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.” 

You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work. 

You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly. 

“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch. 

“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively. 

“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.” 

“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.” 

“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?” 

Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others. 

“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.” 

You tilt your head. 

“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?” 

You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is. 

“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.” 

When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little. 

“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-” 

“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.” 

Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side. 

The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun. 

You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable. 

As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that. 

You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.

As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character. 

“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.

He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow. 

“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task. 

“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket. 

“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.” 

You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out. 

“You’re doing laundry.” 

“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?” 

“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.” 

“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.” 

“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face. 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit. 

“If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.” 

You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive. 

You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick. 

Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering. 

“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence. 

Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace. 

“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.” 

“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid. 

You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond. 

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little. 

“Were you?” 

“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.” 

He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway. 

You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh. 

He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?” 

“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?” 

“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.” 

“She’s pretty,” you say. 

“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.” 

“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little. 

There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant. 

“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?” 

You’re leaning a little closer to him now.

“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused. 

“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little. 

Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry. 

“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.” 

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food. 

Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him. 

It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.

Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into. 

You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you. 

The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both. 

Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position. 

“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet. 

“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.” 

You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope. 

“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.” 

The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes. 

Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier. 

The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house. 

Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel. 

“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better. 

“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator. 

Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?” 

You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in. 

“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”

Click Here to go to the second chapter and find the rest of the series on ao3. The remainder will not be posted on tumlbr, but please feel free to reblog!

[mypoisonedvine]

a thought i have after rewatching red eye: jack abducting you because you're the daughter of an important politician. as a way to show your father that you aren't safe, and to enjoy himself, he films himself forcing you to cum over and over again until you're just a whimpering mess.

oh you sick twisted little genius

warnings: kidnapping, ransom/bribery, forced orgasms/overstimulation, humiliation, bondage

"Please, just tell me she's alright," the man begged through the cracked and muffled audio of the phone call. "Tell me she's alive."

"Of course she's alive," Jackson promised, glancing over at you with a grin, "she's better than ever."

He almost got distracted by the sight of you, tied to the bed with the vibrator pressed against your clit. You'd been there for the better part of an hour, and you hadn't stopped shaking the whole time, screaming and sobbing into your gag-- but the puddle under you on the sheet spoke for itself. "C-can I talk to her?" your father asked.

"Oh, I don't think she wants to talk to you right now," Jackson purred, "she's... a little tied up at the moment. You can talk to her yourself once you do what I've asked."

"But I--"

He rolled his eyes and tossed the phone away, approaching the bedside slowly. He watched you for a moment, tears streaming from your eyes as you convulsed uncontrollably. "Ready to behave, sweetheart?" he asked, but you weren't able to respond anyways. He reached down and switched the vibe off, watching the way you stilled and started to catch your breath-- though he still caught you shivering with aftershocks for a moment as he sat down between your legs on the bed.

He bit his lip as he moved the vibrator away and set it aside, getting a good look at your soaked little pussy-- he couldn't help but reach and pull your lips apart and get a better look at that pretty hole, so desperate to be filled.

"I think we've finally fixed your attitude problem," Jackson noticed with a grin as you just laid there limply, letting him touch you. "And I bet you're extra sensitive now, right?"

He just lightly touched your clit, watching your whole body jump in response as your eyes went wide open. You groaned against the gag but he couldn't make out any words.

"Shh, it's alright, I'll leave that alone for now," he promised, starting to undo his trousers, "but I bet you can still come again just from being fucked."

You whined, trying to move your hips away with what little room you had, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? You want this back instead?" he presumed, picking up the vibrator again. You shook your head feverishly, whimpering and starting to cry again. "Okay, if you're sure. I can leave you here for another hour, get some lunch-- or you can be a good girl for me."

You didn't react for a second, looking straight at him, and he reached up to hook his finger in the gag and pull it out of your mouth. "Please," you began, your voice a little hoarse, "please..."

"'Please' what?" he pressed.

"Please... fuck me..." you whispered.

He tilted his head, putting a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Fuck me! Please!" you screamed in frustration, finally learning the rules of Jackson's game. "I want you to-- I want you! Just, please please fuck me!"

He grinned and leaned down to the floor, picking up the phone where he'd dropped it-- still on the line. "You catch all that, daddy dearest?"

You were already flushed but you looked mortified then, and Jackson had to laugh at your expression. "You sick fuck," your father growled on the other end of the line.

"No rush, pops, she's having a great time," Jackson promised as you cried harder, "she may not even wanna come back once you've finished the job!"

He put the phone down again, pretty sure your dad was going to hang up and hold up his end of the bargain now-- but if not, there would be plenty for him to listen to.

"I knew you wanted it," he announced to you proudly, pulling his cock out and rubbing the leaking head right up against your hole. "Bet with how many times you've come I'll just slide right in..."

He was right about that, but you were still so tight inside-- he could even feel you still flexing just a bit after coming so much, your poor cunt still trying to cope with what he'd put it through. You whined as he filled you, but your back arched, too; of course a needy slut like you couldn't ever be satisfied.

"Fuck," he groaned, "I hope he takes his fucking time getting that money transferred... I want lots more time to play with you, sweetheart."

[stubz]

"Human Kim's mate is dead?!" cries Calis.

"What?! Kim has a mate?!" cries Max

"She is your comrade! How did you not know she has-had a mate?!?"

"But what about Fenrir-wait is Fenrir dead???"

"Human Kim had her bonding band before courting Fenrir, I'm talking about her other mate."

"She's cheating?? Fenrir is the other man...orc???"

"Do humans not have multiple mates?"

"I mean...not usually no...but wait lets back up a minute. How do you know Kim's mate is dead and what do you mean by bonding band, do you mean a ring that goes on a finger?"

"I cannot believe you, her comrade of 5 years, have not noticed her longing rubbing her ankle. How she no longer has the bright orange band on her left ankle. How she looks at her communication device...phone? and looks at what I guess is a photo."

"...wait the orange band? Made out of fabric? Like string?"

"So you have noticed, why have you not consoled her then??"

"...hold on a sec. I'll be back in a moment."

"Are you getting her? Bring her to the command room then, we shall have something for her."

"....how many people think her mate is dead!?"

.

"Why are we going to the command room?"

"Just keep walking. I have a question for you but I need you to answer in front of a lot of people."

"Ookay?" the humans enter the command room and see it decorated dark and somber. Friends and close co-workers are there dressed in black or their respective mourning attire. Calis steps forward.

"Hu-Kim...Kim we are so very sorry for the loss of your mate...may they join the galaxy as a brilliant star and may you both reunite someday in the great beyond..." They slowly grab her five fingered hand with their four fingered hand.

"...If anything were to happen to Gala...I can't even begin to imagine what you are going through. If there's anything you need, anything at all, just ask."

"...Calis...thank you so much...but I don't have a mate?"

"That's what I was saying!" exclaims Max. "If she did then she would've told me, her work best friend!!"

"...but the band on your ankle and your sadness?"

"...Kay I did not notice that but yeah what's up? You alright?" he turns to his short friend

"Ohhh, you mean my friendship anklet?"

"Friend-ship anklet? ...not a bonding band?"

"It was made by my best friend, no offense Max, on Earth the last time I saw her in person 'bout...almost 2 years ago? Anyways it finally fell off since its string and I just miss having it."

"None taken."

"So no one died? She's still alive?"

"Yeah, I just texted her yesterday about the anklet and she said she'll just tattoo one on me cause it'll ward off Max...no offense Max...she just can't accept that I have more than one best friend."

"Again none taken...wait is this the friend who hated you at first and you didn't know so you kept being friendly to her until eventually she accepted you and you've been best friends for like almost 10 years?"

"She...hated you?"

"Oh yeah, she thought I was really annoying but I'm pretty dense so I just kept being nice and going to eat lunch with her throughout high school until after like...2-3 months she gave up and accepted my friendship. Oh! and I didn't know any of this until like this year." she grins

"That's a beautiful friendship right there...makes me jealous about how boringly we met and bonded over anime and musicals."

"On most planets beings would maul you over your annoyance...would you like some of the cake we got you before we knew no one died?"

"Yes please! Also thank you everybody but sadly...and luckily no one died!!" she calls out to the dozen or so aliens and humans in the command room.

"...wait you thought I was having an affair with Fenrir!?" cries a horrified Kim

"That's what I was saying!!" screams Max

[mama2bears]

Starting Over Again - Chapter 4

Pairings: Tyler Owens/Female Reader

Warning: Injury, Tornado, a few swear words, near death of character

A/N: The words to the songs used in this story is “River and Highway” by Pam Tillis and “Starting Over” by Chris Stapleton. I don't own any of the lyrics or songs.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4

The sound of a door closing startles you awake.

“Morning!” Tyler smiles at you, holding a bag of something that smelled amazing.

“What is that I smell?” you ask, sitting up.

Tyler sits next to you on the bed as he pulls out the to go boxes, “We have a good 'ol Oklahoma breakfast here! Chicken Fried Steak with scrambled eggs and biscuits and gravy .There's donuts, cookies, sticky buns, and chips in the truck along with plenty of water for snacks.”

He gives you your box and hurries over to the dresser in the room, “I also got us coffee and orange juice. Cream or sugar for the coffee?” he asked.

“Oh...um...both.” you answer looking over the food, “Do you always eat this big for breakfast?”

“Only on days that we are planning to be out chasing most of the day. Might not be enough time to stop for lunch, so we fill up with a big breakfast and bring plenty of snacks.”

“Thank you. This all smells amazing.” you start to eat as the room grows silent.

“I am sorry about last night.” you broke the silence, you're eyes meeting Tyler's.

“What are you sorry about?” he asked.

“I am sorry I woke you up. Sorry I cried all over you.” you gave a small smile, “Sorry I unloaded my ugly past on you.”

“Don't be sorry.” he smiled softly, “I didn't mind.” he paused as he thought about his next words. Should he tell her the truth, that he believed he was falling in love with her, that he wanted to get to know her better, that he wanted more nights of her falling asleep safely in his arms? Or, should he play it safe, not knowing how she feels, wanting to give her time to move at her own pace, what felt comfortable for her..finally, he gave a small smile, “What are friends for, right?”

“Right,” you smile at him. You're both relieved and a bit saddened.. At least you knew how he felt about you now. You were friends, and that's how it should be, at least for now. You only met him yesterday. Sure, he was easy on the eyes and you felt at home wrapped in his arms...but he was a friend. You were still married to an abusive husband that may or may not be tracking you down right now. You honestly couldn't pin point exactly how you felt about Tyler. Your heart was screaming you loved him, but your mind was saying take it slow, you don't even know him. This was how you got into trouble with Lee. You were lonely and looking for love and fell for the wrong guy. You did not want to make THAT mistake again.

“Anyway, I think I got the room situation straightened out.” he stated after a moment of silence. “They gave us the wrong room yesterday. There is a couple here on vacation and they only needed one bed. They accidentally got our double room and we got the king one. We're going to pack our stuff up this morning and by the time we come back tonight they will have the rooms switched for us,” he paused, “That is if you are still okay sharing a room...”

“Yeah, that's fine,” you give him a smile.

“Great, I'll start loading up the truck and we can hit the road.”

“What's the plan for today?” You try not to notice how tight his black shirt was fitted over his chest, try not think about how he looked dripping wet or how warm and safe he felt as he held you close to him.

“You and me are going to ride together. I've got a laptop with weather radar set up in the truck. Help us track the storms, take video and photos. Boone and Lily are going to be in the other truck filming as well. Dexter and Dani will bring up the rear in the RV. Dexter is going to be helping track the storms with the systems in the RV.”

“Sounds exciting.” you nodded, eager to get started on your first day being a storm chaser.

“What's the biggest tornado you ever been in?” he asked.

“Not many big tornadoes in Tennessee.” you said, “Probably would have been an F3 that hit downtown Nashville. My mom and I were there on a weekend trip to see the Grand Ol Opry when it came though. There was an F5 during that weekend as well, but it was farther away from where we were staying. It was known as the Forgotten F5 because of the lack of news coverage. Everyone covered the tornado that hit downtown Nashville because it was so unusual for a large tornado to strike a downtown area, actually, it was the first F3 tornado to hit a downtown area in twenty years.”

“Were you scared?” he asked softly.

“Terrified! I was only a kid and I was already scared of storms...that only enhanced my fear. We had to run and take shelter in a building. Windows were breaking, glass littered the downtown streets, the sky was so dark it was like night.”

“Yet, here you are...a storm chaser chasing tornadoes...riding your fears!” he grinned.

“Riding your fears...what exactly does that mean?”

“It means you don't just face your fears, you jump in and conquer them. You can't just run and hide from it. You learn from your fears. In the case of tornadoes, we face them head on to try to learn about them, and prevent more people from getting hurt.”

“Makes sense.” you nodded, “are you scared of the storms?”

He was silent for a moment before answering, “Yes...and no. I am not scared of anything happening to me. I know the risks and I take them. I make it fun. I am scared for my team though, for those I care about...” he looks you in the eye, “I am scared for all the people in the path of the storm. We can't always stop a tornado, we can't always predict when and where it's going to hit. Sometimes, we miss it. Sometimes we are too late. That is what I fear.”

You nodded as you finished your breakfast, “That's why I wanted to get into weather. I was terrified of storms as a child, but as I got older I learned to love them. I loved the beauty and power of storms, but I hated the devastation they caused. I wanted to help find a way to warn people and to help people.”

“Well, you're in the right place then.” He grinned, “ready to ride your fears?”

“Defiantly.” you give him a smile back, feeling confident about the day and your decision to come to Oklahoma.

* * * * *

Lee sat staring at his computer, “I will find you, Y/N. I swear, you can't hide from me forever.”

He typed in your name again and was about to give up, not finding any results until...

“Who's the new mystery girl with the Wranglers?”

Lee clicked the link and found varies videos and photos from fans for a group called The Tornado Wranglers, who currently appeared to be in Oklahoma.

There, he found a picture of a woman standing next to a red Dodge Ram with a bunch of equipment attached to it. To Lee it looked like one of them tornado trucks.

“Who's the new mystery girl with the Wranglers?” the poster asked.

“She just showed up yesterday, I saw her and Tyler at a restaurant. They haven't introduced her yet. Maybe she's a girlfriend?” another poster stated.

Lee zoomed in on the photo and grinned, “So...Oklahoma.” he muttered, “not far enough. Not far enough at all.” he clicked on the link that lead him to the Tornado Wranglers YouTube channel.

After a few videos, he figured out that the team was currently in El Reno Oklahoma and the photos from the fans proved it was differently his Y/N hanging out with them.

* * * * *

“Any leads yet?” Tyler asked you as the team drove though a lonely country road. So far, the day had not seen much action.

“Here, just west of here.” you point on the radar, “it looks to be getting high and that hook is forming.”

Tyler glances at the radar and nods in agreement, “Dexter, what about that cell just to the west?”

“I am watching that one, Ty. Looks promising. What does Y/N think?” he called back.

Tyler flashed you a grin, “Ah, she agrees! That's where we're heading!”

You smiled to yourself as you looked out the window at the building storm. You were happy to have made a good decision, a step in the right direction, proving that you did know a little something about storms.

“THERE!”you shout, We got a funnel!” You pull out your camera and start filming the development of the twister.

“Hang on...we're going in!” Tyler grinned, jerking the truck to the right and though an open field.

You let out a scream of surprise and grab for the dash, “What the hell do you mean we're GOING IN!”

“Ride your fears baby, ride your fears!” Tyler yelled out, parking a mere feet from the now fully developed tornado, “Look at her! She's beauty!” he screamed over the roaring winds, but he was looking more at you then the tornado as he mashed the button, anchoring the truck to the ground. “Hang on!” he yelled.

You hold the video camera with one hand, keeping a death grip on the dashboard with the other. You couldn't believe what was happening. The tornado was going to go right over you.

“Tyler, is this SAFE?” you yell.

“Sure it is! This looks to be a EF2, maybe EF3. Depends on the damage it does. This truck is good up to EF4.”

And then the truck was surrounded by a whirling black cloud, debris bouncing off the metal with big thuds, pops, and bangs. The roaring of the wind and the shaking of the truck felt and sounded like a freight train running right over you.”

And just like that, as quickly as it started...it was over.

You looked at Tyler with a huge grin, “Oh my GOD! That was a freaking tornado! We were INSIDE of a TORNADO!” you shouted.

“Nothing like it, now is there?” he flashed you a grin.

“Thank you...” you smile at him.

“For what?” he asked, “putting you in the path of a tornado?”

“For giving me a chance...for giving me this experience..for being there.” You shrugged. You didn't know how to put into words everything you were feeling. This man gave you a job without even knowing if you were telling the truth. He was willing to give up his hotel room so you could be comfortable. He held you in his arms last night when you woke up screaming from a nightmare. He has done everything he could since you met him to make sure you were safe and taken care of. Then, he gives you the experience of a lifetime by driving directly into a tornado.

“Anytime, Darling.” Tyler smiled at you, “This tornado seemed to be a little short lived, but lets drive though town and make sure everyone is okay. If the radar still looks quiet we could grabs some dinner.”

“Sounds good.” you agreed.

“We're taking a ride though town, make sure everyone is okay. If all is good and radar is quiet we'll grab something to eat.” Tyler called over the radio as the trio of vehicles made a turn into town.

As you rode though the town, gazing out the window, you were thankful that it appeared that the only damage was to some trees and power lines, maybe some roof shingles and windows. Everyone looked to be okay.

“What you see on radar?” he asked you.

“Not much of anything. All the storms seemed to have died out for the day.”

“Let's call it a day, guys.” Tyler radioed, then looked at you, “Can I take you somewhere?” he asked.

“Sure.” you shrugged.

“I am going to take Y/N for a little tour and lunch. How about we meet up back at the hotel later tonight and we'll make our plan for tomorrow?”

“Sounds good Ty.” Lily confirmed.

“See you tonight.” Dani agreed.

“Hey, don't do anything I wouldn't do!” Boone yelled into the radio, making you blush a little.

“Idiot.” Tyler laughed.

“There's a sandwich shop on up the road here, do you mind if we take it to go?”

“No, not at all.”

Tyler pulled into the parking lot and hurried around the truck, opening the door for you before you had the chance. He started to reach for your hand as you walked towards the little shop, but decided against it. You hadn't lend him to believe you wanted anything more then friends, but he was determined to be there if and when you changed your mind. He stepped a bit ahead of you instead and opened the door to the shop.

“What will it be?” he asked as you two looked over the menu above the counter.

“All American sub with mayo.” you answer

Tyler placed the order for the two sandwiches, drinks and chips and you two walk back to the truck.

“So, where are you taking me?” You asked when he opened the truck door for you again.

“To a little slice of heaven on Earth.” he grinned, giving you a wink, “It's only a few miles up the road.”

Within minutes, Tyler turned next to a sign that read 'Lake El Reno Park'

“There's a creek that runs into this lake, called Fourmile Creek” he told you.

“Let me guess...it's four miles long.” you grin.

“Yep!” Tyler smiled, “It feeds into the lake and there's a bridge that goes over the river...” he paused, “It's just a nice place for a picnic I thought.”

“Sounds beautiful.” you smile as he parks and collects the food bag and a blanket. You open the door and get out this time before he gets around to open it for you.

“Hey...that's my job,” he pretended to pout.

“I am a big girl and I know how to open my own doors.” you stated.

“But I like to open them for you.”

“Alright, next time.” you agree.

Tyler spreads the blanket down and you set out the sandwiches, chips and drinks and take a seat next to him.

“Oh...one more thing I forgot.” he grabbed his keys and sprinted back to the truck. A moment later he returned with a guitar.

“You sing?” she asked.

“I try.” he laughed. “There's a old country song that this place reminds me of.” he said, strumming a few cords. “Um, here, let me just sing a few verses for you.” he starts playing the music and softly sings

And he rolls, he's a highway. Where he goes, time will tell. Heaven knows, she can't go with him. And he rolls, all by himself. All by himself.

But every now and then, He offers her a shoulder. And every now and then She overflows. And every now and then A bridge crosses over. It's a moment, every lover knows.

And she rolls She's a river Where she goes Time will tell.

Tyler trailed off seeing a tear roll down your cheek.

“Hey, what's wrong?” he asked, setting the guitar to the side, “I am sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.”

“No...no you didn't. It's a beautiful song, one I have loved for a long time.” you whisper then smile at him. “I never figured you for the romantic type.”

He shrugs it off picking up his sandwich, “Aw, it's just that I can kinda relate to the song is all.”

“Is there a special someone in your life? Or was there?” you ask, almost afraid of the answer.

He locks his eyes on yours, “There hasn't been. I dated...a lot...but there hasn't been that special someone..” he wanted to say, 'until now.' but he decided to hold it in, for now.

You both finish your lunch and make small talk about the chase of that day and team. Tyler cleans up the trash and sits back down next to you.

“It's so peaceful and quiet out here.” he said softly, watching the sun go lower on the horizon.

“Yeah, it is.” you agree, “I miss this. Before Lee, I used to love hiking though the mountains, or taking a quiet boat ride on the lake. Some days I would go into the woods, climb up in a tree and just read a book.”

“I'd like to do that sometime.” Tyler turned and locked his eyes on yours, “with you. Maybe you can take me to Tennessee and show me the mountains you loved, or we can spend the day cruising a lake. Maybe I could take you up to the Ozark Mountains around my home town.”

“I'd like that.” you smiled.

“One more song before we head back?” he asked picking up the old guitar. “There's another one that seems to be running though my head. Sometimes...I can say what I want in a song better then I can words.”

“Really? I am the same way. The song speaks to what I am feeling and can't say.”

Tyler strums a few cords and smiles softly at you, “You are the only person I have met that understands that. OK, so here it goes.."

And it don't matter to me Wherever we are is where I wanna be And honey, for once in our life Let's take our chances and roll the dice I can be your lucky penny You can be my four-leaf clover Starting over

This might not be an easy time There's rivers to cross and hills to climb Some days we might fall apart And some nights might feel cold and dark

But nobody wins, afraid of losing And the hard roads are the ones worth choosing Someday we'll look back and smile And know it was worth every mile

He lays the guitar down and reaches for your hand, “Y/N. I am sorry about this morning.”

You frown, “What about this morning?”

“I referred to us as friends.” he sighed, “We are friends, always will be. I'd like to be something more with you though. That's what I am trying to say in these songs because Lord knows I am not good with words and I am not good at showing my feelings. I know we only met yesterday, but I believe in love at first sight. I knew I was going to love you the moment you stepped off that bus. There was a connection there and I can't explain it. We'll take this as slow as you want, I am not going anywhere.” his eyes glistened with tears, “I hate that you've been hurt in the past. I wish I was there to save you then, but I am here now. I swear I will never do anything intentionally to hurt you. I'd like for us to date, hang out, whatever you want to call it. I want to be with you as much as you will have me. I want us to be a team, to be friends, and to be more...when you are ready.”

“I want that too.” you whisper, “I never felt this way about anyone. Not even Lee. I was lonely and scared and looking for love and I thought I was in love with him...but now that I've met you...I can't explain what this feeling is. It's so much more then I have ever felt before for anyone. I feel safe with you. I feel comfortable with you. You feel like home, and when I say that, I mean the home I grew up in. A home that was my safe place. A home where I was loved and felt like I belonged. I haven't known a home in a very long time, but I believe I have found it with you.”

Tyler leaned in slowly and paused, waiting for your permission. Waiting to see if you would lean in or pull away. His eyes gazed into yours and you felt butterflies in your stomach as you leaned forward and brushed your lips against his. He wrapped his arms around you and deepened the kiss.

A clap of thunder made you jump as lighting streaked across the sky.

“Well, I knew there sparks between us, but that was amazing.” Tyler grinned, standing up and helping you up. “Let's get to the truck before the skies open up.”

Tyler holds the blanket and guitar with one hand and your hand with the other as you both run for the truck.

“Where's the keys?” he asked checking his pocket where they were suppose to be.

You look around the ground and inside the truck and spot the keys and cell phone on the backseat.

“Tyler...those keys?” you grin.

“Oh no. no. no. no.” he pulls on the doors but they were locked.

“Okay,” he sighed, “You got your phone? We'll call someone out here to unlock the truck. I must have left them there on the seat when I got the guitar.”

“My phone is in the truck. I didn't think there was a reason to bring it just for a picnic. I am sorry.” you muttered as the rain began to pour down.

“It's okay.” he wrapped you in a hug, but looked at the sky with concern.

The air pressure was changing and you picked up on it too. Wind swirled around you and suddenly from inside the truck you heard the alerts go off on your phones.

Tyler quickly scanned the area for a safe place to go. “There!” he pointed to a ditch next to the river, “Go!”

He runs behind you pushing you towards the ditch as debris fly around. “Down!” he yelled over the roaring winds as he pushes you into the ditch, throwing his body over yours and pushing you as close to the ground as he could. He covered your head with one arm and kept the other arm wrapped around you. “Just hang on, it's going to be okay!” he promised.

You hear trees snapping in half, feel the pounding of the rain, you feel the wind trying to suck you up...and suddenly, Tyler screams out in pain and you feel his body get shoved against yours.

“TYLER!” You scream grabbing his arm that was still tightly holding you. “TYLER! YOU OK?”

“I am okay.” he promised as he gasped for air, “I think it was a tree that fell on top of us. You okay?” he asked. He felt what he assumed to be sharp broken off branches cutting deep into his leg, the weight of the tree pinned against his back.

“Yeah, I am okay.” you told him as the winds finally calmed down. The rain continued to beat down in sheets. Tyler was laying against you gasping for air.

“Tyler?” you were worried when he didn't move. Were you trapped? How badly was he injured?

Tyler laid there, feeling the blood running down his leg. He knew he couldn't get himself out, but he was damn sure going to do whatever he could to get you out.

“I am stuck here pretty good.” He finally answered, not wanting to concern you, “I am going to try to left up a little. I want you to get out from under me and go get help.”

“Tyler, no...I can't leave you.”

“Y/N...I don't know if there's more twisters out here or not. This rain pouring down could lead to flooding. The river is literally right next to us. I will be okay, we just need some help lifting this.”His body collapsed against yours as he worked to catch his breath again and you knew there was something more serious wrong.

“OK.” you agree, knowing that you weren't going to leave him, but also not wanting to waste his energy arguing about it.

“Ready?” he gasped, fighting against the pain. He had to remain conscious, at least until he knew you were free.

“Ready.” you answered.

Tyler screamed in pain as he pushed up against the tree and collapsed back against you. “Too heavy.” he gasped his body seemed to go limp.

“Tyler...stay with me.” you pleaded, trying to wiggle enough room to at least turn around and look at him and see how badly he was injured.

“I'm here.” he muttered, “just...need...to rest.”

You both lay in silence for a moment, the unrelenting rain washing over you. The rain was so intense that at first you didn't notice the water filling the ditch. It wasn't much, but you could tell it was raising.

“Tyler...water. We got to get out of here.”

Panic raced though his body. Water was filling the ditch, it was flooding...and he had you pinned face down. He was trying to protect you...now he was your death trap. He had to move, even if it killed him. He had to ignore the pain and move so you could be free.

“Y/N..listen to me.” he gasped. “I am going to move this thing.” he paused catching his breath.”You don't worry about me. You fight, you get out of here. You will drown if you stay pinned under me, and that in itself will kill me. I will NOT be a cause of pain for you. You get out of here and get help. Please Y/N...I need to know you will be alright.”

“Okay, I will.” you promise though the tears, “Tyler...I love you. I love you like I have never loved before.”

He laid his face against yours and kissed your cheek softly, “I love you too baby girl. Hang on, we will get through this. We will get through this and I will show you the love you deserve.” he choked back his own tears, trying to hide the pain in his voice. He didn't think he was going to get out of this one, but he dame sure was going to try.

Tyler took a deep breath, “Okay, on the count of three. I lift and you get out of here..one...two..THREE!” he lifted with all his might, ignoring the pain raging though his body.

If anything good was coming from the rising water, it was making the ground softer. You pulled and felt yourself sliding free. “I am out!” You yelled, scrambling to your feet as quickly as possible.

Tyler collapsed back to the ground, now having to raise his head to keep it above water as he gasped for air. “Go...go get help.” he pleaded as his eyes drifted close and he slumped face first into the ever rising water.

“NO! TYLER!” You hold his head above water, “please, you gotta stay with me. Help me...I need you to help me.”

He moaned hearing your voice calling to him. You needed him. He had to fight to stay awake. “I am here.” he muttered.

“I am going to try to move this tree and free you. Stay with me..hold your head up for me so I can try to free you.”

“Hmm hmm.” he muttered.

“TYLER!” you screamed.

He jolted awake.”I am here. I am here.”

“We gotta hurry, the water is rushing in now, but it might help me to move this off of you.” you looked at the mangled tree that was pinning his waist to the ground.

Tyler nodded, holding his head as far up as he could. You push against the tree, going with the flow of the water. Tyler screams out in pain but you keep pushing, you can't stop. If you stop, he drowns.

Slowly the tree shifts, and Tyler is able to roll over on his back and start to pull himself out, but suddenly the tree rolls back, crashing into his chest and completely pinning him under the rushing water.

“Oh God no! TYLER!” You scream, trying to lift his head up, but the water is just too deep and the tree was pined against his chest.

He was glad for one thing, the water was washing the tears in his eyes away. This was it..this was how he was going to die. He was going to drown. He always figured it would be a tornado that took him out, but he never thought about a flood. His heart broke for you. All the pain that your husband had put you though, he thought maybe he could be a chance at happiness for you...now, he would just be the cause of more pain. His lungs screamed for air and his final thought was at least he protected you from the tornado. He could only pray that you would find safety from this flood...he wished he could be there with you, holding you in his arms and comforting you. He wished he could still protect you...and then nothing but blackness.

“NO!!!!” you scream, feeling him go limp in your arms. You struggle to hold on to him, struggle to free him. Suddenly the tree shifted in the current and and you pulled with everything that was within. You felt him come free and you struggle to pull him out of the water and away from the ditch.

“Tyler...” you cried, feeling for a pulse and not finding none...”You can't leave me...” you yell, placing your palms over his heart and doing 30 compressions. You pinched his nose closed, tilting his head back and covered his lips with yours, blowing in two breaths before going back to compressions ....one...two..three you counted until reaching 30 again.

You check again for a pulse. There was none.

Giving him two more breaths you continue the compressions with tears streaming down your face, mixing with the pounding rain.

Suddenly Tyler gasped and started coughing. Quickly you turn him over to his side and hold him as he coughs up water.

“Tyler..” you cry, rubbing your hand along his arm...he continues coughing and gasping, spitting up more water and then lets his body collapse back against you. “Ty...” you hold him close to you, running your hand though his hair.

“You okay?” he asked, opening his green eyes to gaze up at you.

“You DIE on me, and you asking if I AM okay?” you laugh though the tears.

“Well...” Tyler was gasping for air still, pain etched into his face, “are you?”

“I'll be okay when you're okay.” you tell him, checking him over for injures. You spot the blood soaking though his jeans from a large gash in his leg. “I gotta go to the truck and get that blanket. You need something to slow the bleeding on your leg.” you tell him, but he doesn't answer.

“No...Ty.” fear grips you as you quickly check for a pulse, breathing with relief when you find one. Quickly you run to the truck and back to Tyler, wrapping the blanket around his leg as tightly as you could, keeping your hand pressed against it. “Hang in there,” you whisper, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest.

“You all okay?” You hear someone yell. It was a police officer out checking the streets after the storm.

“NO! We need help! We need an ambulance. He has a bad cut on his leg.” you yell, not willing to leave Tyler's side.

“Ambulance is on it's way ma'am.” the officer told her.

“Sir, one more thing...could you tell the Tornado Wranglers at El Reno Inn that Tyler Owens is hurt and heading to the hospital? That's our storm chaser team. They will be looking for us. The names are Lily, Dani, Dexter, and Boone.”

The officer wrote down the names, “Will do.” he nodded.

* * * * *

Chapter 5

******

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[lovingme232]

Ex-Best Friend

Conrad Fisher X Reader

//Belly cut you off after you confessed your feelings for Conrad to her//

2.6K Words

Last summer. The summer that killed any chance of having another enjoyable summer. Sure, you can admit that part of it was your fault, but not all of the blame could go to you, right? No. Belly was the one who screamed nonsense at you. Belly was the one who cut you off. Belly was the one who got mad at you for having a harmless crush on a boy. 

Okay. Yes, that crush was her crush. But to your defense, you thought Belly was over him. She stopped talking about him, or talking to him. You thought she had left her childhood love in the dust, but nope. 

And how were you supposed to know Belly would get so mad? She could have said a few simple words, “I like him, back off,” and you would have suppressed your feelings, but no, instead she screamed, and cried, and rambled on and on. You were pretty sure it was the first time she had swore.

Now, you were stuck in your room, all summer. No Jeremiah, no Steven, no Laurel, no Suzana, no Belly, and definitely no Conrad. All you got to see were the bright white walls that you stared at every day.

Truthfully, you were kinda greatful your mother hadn’t made any plans with Laural or Suszana. Despite being the third to their friend group, they hadn’t made any plans. You didn’t have the guts to look at Belly or Conrad anymore. But that didn’t matter, because Conrad was just a summer crush, a one time summer crush. 

That was when you got the worst news of your life. “Y/N! Get ready, we're having a picnic with Laura, and Suzana! You’ll get to see Belly!” Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. This was the worst thing that could happen to a 16 year old. 

You quickly scrambled out of your bed, throwing the many blankets and pillows onto the floor. You rushed to your door, only to find your mom standing at the bottom of the stairway. There had to be another way. There was no way you’d be able to survive the embarrassment. “I’m not feeling very good, do I have to go?” 

The face she gave you, told you she had already made up her mind. “You look fine, you need the sunlight anyways.” She turned away, mumbling something about vampires, but you were too distracted to listen. 

You wanted to fall to the group and crumble into a ball. What would you see? What if they were together? He always had a way of looking at Belly. Like she was the only girl in the world who mattered. It hurt. 

Maybe he wasn’t just a summer crush. It's just a small little crush. Of course, you did spend your free time thinking about Conrad. Where he was, how he was doing. Definitely not that small of a crush.

But this was perfect. Maybe you could truly flip this around. Dress up nice, put on some makeup, do your hair. You learned how to do it over the school year. Show them you aren't nerdy, little Y/N anymore. Show them you grew up. Show them you're mature. Show Conrad you could be just as pretty as Belly.

The next hour consisted of trying on outfits, re-doing your eyeliner; straightening, curling, straightening your hair again, and your mom moaning for you to hurry up. Finally, you looked perfect. After checking yourself in the mirror, you ran down stairs, not really ready for the adventure ahead.

The pressure in your heart grew as you got closer to the picnic spot. Your throat was tight and full of anxiety. You were scared to get out of the car, in fear of falling. But no matter how scared you were of getting a few scratches on your knees, nothing could compare to the fear of facing Belly, even if all she did was silently glare at you.

You hopped out of the car, your legs felt like jelly. Your heart pounded against your rib cage with every step you took, it felt like it would jump out of your chest. 

Soon Belly and her family came into view. But most importantly Conrad was there, sitting in between Steven and Jeremiah. Your heart jumped a beat. Then your eyes went back to Belly, she was looking in the opposite direction. She looked different. Then your eyes shifted. Great. Taylor was there too, throwing daggers at you with her eyes. Belly must have told her what happened.

Suzana ran up to your mom, and engulfed her in a hug. When she pulled away she turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve grown up, Y/N, you look great.” You smiled. “Thank you.” She laughed, and wrapped her arms around both you and your mom. All three walked arm in arm, until you reached the large sprawled out blanket.

“Go sit next to Belly and Taylor.” Suzana patted me on the back and nudged me closer to my upcoming doom. I nodded, and awkwardly plopped down onto the blanket. Belly immediately shifted away from you, and turned to Taylor to create a huddle. The whispered, and many hushed laughs escaped Taylors mouth. 

You shifted uncomfortably, suddenly sitting under the weight of your own body didn’t seem so possible anymore. 

Conrad watched as you moved, your eyes shifted up to him, your breath spiked, and your cheeks turned red, as he looked at you. Maybe it was because he liked you. He quickly looked away, suddenly he was way more interested in Stevens rambling. 

You looked down, shame rushing over you. Maybe it was because you had a crush on your friend, ex-friends, crush. Or maybe it was because it was silly to think Conrad, Beck, Fisher, would ever have a crush on you. 

“Y/N you have to try the fondue, it is to die for!” Suzana spoke with her mouth full, as she tried not to lose her food. 

You nodded, and grabbed a fork stuck in some bread. You couldn’t taste it, all you could think about was getting out of there. Sure you looked good, but the way Taylor was looking at you sure made you feel otherwise.

“Y/N!” Jeremiah spoke estaticaly, as he moved over to you. “Where have you been? You haven’t come over to the house since last summer.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder squeezing you tight. Belly didn’t tell them what happened. “I’ve been busy.” 

He nodded, and glanced over at me to get a look at me. “Wow. You’ve really grown up. You and I will have to get lunch together sometime.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his flirting. “We do. Really, I missed hanging out with you.” 

You looked over to Conrad, was he glaring at Jeremiah? Could it be? Was Conrad Jealous? That would be crazy. Conrad. Jealous because his brother was flirting with you. That would be insane.

You continued talking to Jeremiah, but you were too stuck on how Conrad kept his eyes shooting holes through Jere. It was shocking to you. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him blink, open his eyes, and re-rarrow them. Jere seemed to notice as well, he turned his head to the side, and cocked an eyebrow at Conrad.

“You alright Con?” Jere asked, and Conrad immediately snapped out of it, he backed up and seemed a little shocked in himself. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Conrad mumbled back, you didn’t remember him being so moody. 

Suddenly Jere laughed, he rocked back and almost fell over, but managed to catch himself at the last minute. “Listen Con, we all know you’ve been crushing on Y/N, but I’m not going to take her from you.” His words processed through your brain, and your face flared a bright red. Everyone was now looking at you, and Conrad, but you didn’t care too much, you were too busy looking at conrads red cheeks. 

Was it true? Could Conrad really like you? No way. That was not possible. Right. The way he was looking at you said otherwise. Maybe he could like you. Yes. Conrad Fisher could totally like you. Not Taylor, or some random girl, or even Belly, you, he could like you. Was this how it felt to win a race?

A smile crossed over your face, and your heart pounded in your chest. The guy you had only dreamed would like you back, might actually like you back. It was a miracle! A dream came true.

“Ew, no way. She’s like family.” Suddenly your heart came crashing back to reality, and your smile was wiped off your face. Of Course he wouldn’t like you. Taylors laugh rang out from her mouth, piercing your ears like little jabs from little knives. “Are you on something, Jeremy? Why would he like Y/N?” Belly quickly hushed Taylor, and everyone laughed, and went back to their own conversations.

Blood rushed to your face, but it was for a different reason this time. Embarrassment. You wanted to run away, and hide. You looked down in shame, you couldn’t even look up to Conrad to see how he was responding.

All you did was clear your throat and give the best smile you could muster. “I’m pretty full, I’m gonna go for a walk.” Before anyone could offer to go with you, you were up and gone. You walked as quickly as you could to get away from the situation.

Tears followed soon after. Taylor didn’t even say anything that meant, it just hit you right. It made you feel ugly and gross, and nothing like you had tried to look today. Your makeup, that had taken so long to do, was ruined in seconds. Maskara ran down your face, and smudged the eyeliner that you thought you had perfected.

Ironically you still felt prettier than you did with all your makeup on. Something about all the raw emotion made you feel good. Like you had needed to cry for so long, and this was the only time you could. 

Finally you found a nice recluse place, you could sit down at. It had a log that was made to perfectly sit down and light a campfire. You sat down at the log, that looked out onto the ocean, and if it were dusk, a beautiful sunset. 

You stared out onto the ocean, and watched little fish jump out and fly through the sky for a few seconds, then fall back in. 

You hung your head down low again, and shoved it into your hands. You didn’t know what to think or feel. Well, you felt stupid that was for sure. Stupid to ever think Conrad would ever see you as anything other than a friend at most, but he clearly didn’t think that right now. 

The tears started again. It was as if your heart had been pulled out, stomped on and shoved it back into my chest. Maybe one day you would feel better, and you’d find someone else, someone better than Conrad.

What were you kidding? You had never had a crush this big. And what were the chances of you finding someone better than Conrad, someone better than Conrad that would like you? Zero.

It was always Belly and Conrad. You got ahead of yourself. You thought he looked at you the same way he looked at her, but you were wrong. So very wrong. Sure he was sending some mixed signals, but why wouldn’t he? He’s Conrad Fisher, and he does what he wants. 

Snap! Was that a branch? You flipped your head around trying to find the source of the sound. This was going to be how you died, just like all the horror movies. “Who’s there?” You called out, if you were doing horror movies, you were going to really do horror movies. 

Suddenly Conrad popped out, trying to get some leaves out of his brown hair. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckled a little. Your face stayed the same, looking at him with shock. “Can I sit?” He nodded his head towards the log. You quickly snapped out of it, and nodded. “Yes, sit!” You said a little too quickly, and sat down a little too roughly.

Conrad followed behind you, and sat down next to you, leaving only a foot in between you. “I’m sorry about what Taylor said.. and what I said.” He said sheepishly, he fidgeted his hands, rubbing them together uncomfortably. “It’s okay.” You said back, even though it didn’t feel okay. “I know you don’t like me like that.” Your voice came out a little sad sounding, more sad than you would have liked.

 He coughed, like he was choking on air. He slammed his fist into his chest, trying to loosen everything up. You looked over to him, panic already running through you. The fear of losing Conrad before you could tell him everything you felt, even if it wasn’t true, made you shake with fear. 

“Oh my God!” You grabbed onto his shoulders, and twisted him towards you. “I’m fine.” He croaked out, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m fine.” He repeated, sounding a little better. You sighed and started laughing. 

“What are you laughing at?” He quickly said, but his laughter followed soon after. “It's funny. Really.” You said, as you wiped tears away, that only came because you had laughed too hard. “I thought I wouldn’t get to tell you how I felt, just because you were choking on air.” 

Quickly, you realized your mistake. You looked up at him with wide eyes, and he looked down at you with the same expression. “How you feel?” You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter.” You awkwardly laughed. “You wouldn’t feel the same anyways.” 

It was quiet for a few, long, seconds. You looked at the water, it was just so peaceful, it's what you wanted. “Y/N I hate it when you talk about yourself like that.” You were going to say, mhm, but you didn’t know what he was saying. Your head shot up and you looked up to him. “What?”

“Y/N, I really like you. I didn’t mean what I said back there.” Your eyes widened, and your face flushed. “I really like you too.” A smile crossed over his face, the first genuine smile you had seen from him today. 

Before you knew it, his hands were on your cheeks. Was this you're actually going to be your first kiss? With Conrad Fisher? You didn’t even think about Belly, and how upset she would be if she saw this. You were too lost in the moment. 

Your lips parted slightly, your eyes flickered from his eye to his lips and back to his eyes again. This was actually happening. You were going to kiss Conrad Fisher. You put your hand on the back of his neck, each of you inching closer and closer to each other. You were so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Everything seemed to slow down from there. 

It was too slow for you. It made your nerves act up. It made your hands feel all sweaty. So you did as you thought was best, you pulled his face to your face, and kissed him. You kissed him! 

His lips tasted like muffins, he probably had them for breakfast. Your lips moved with one another, each of you following the other one. 

The kiss was short and sweet, but still was everything you could have ever asked for. It left you feeling left out, and wanting more. You looked at his eyes, and that was all it took to make you feel pretty. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you panted every few seconds.

“Hey, you wanna go swimming?”

Give me some request!! I have no idea what to write next :D

[c0llisiion]

Cr. _3aem on twitter/x for the pic

★pairing : gojo satoru + fem!reader

★genre : smut , slight angst , fluff(?)

★: clan leader!gojo , mean dom!gojo , dubcon/cnc , lots of crying, name calling, degrading, choking, slapping, gojo is a douchebag towards reader in the beginning, fluff at the end, aftercare — lmk if i missed any!

★W/C: 861

A/N: saw the comments under the first gojo post SO I WROTE A REDEMPTION 😍☝️ gonna be going on a break till the end of feb so 💔 i have so many clan leader gojo headcanons hehehe anyways enjoy!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“Shit- fuck- look at you. So pathetic. Crying and whining. You better stop before I smack some sense into you.” He said, harshly as he thrusted into you from beneath. He had you bouncing on his long, thick cock while your hands clawed at his chest and shoulders. Head low, and hot tears fell on his broad chest. His hands tightened around your hips, keeping you in place while he pushed up into you at an inhumane rate.

“I told you to stop crying. What is the reason to cry? Is the dick too good?” He said darkly with a chuckle, landing a harsh slap on your reddening ass. This time, Satoru was particularly rough. And it was making you uncomfortable. You had no desire to do it. The feeling alone was making you feel weird. But you, of course, couldn't say anything because you were scared he would lash out at you, so you kept silent, letting your tears do the talking. Tears were staining your face. You looked like a mess, but that wasn't the concern at the moment. You yell in pain and shake your head. Satoru looked at you, amused. He knew something was off, but he ignored his intuition. Through tear-filled eyes, you glanced at his face. His face had a stern look. He scowled at your lack of response and tightened his grip on your hips, guaranteed to form bruises as he thrusted up into you harshly. He pulled you off his dick before slamming you back with great force. mouth flung open and eyes wide, choked-out cries slipping from your lips every second. “You wanna be all bratty right? Im gonna make you regret it.”

The pleasure quickly turned into pain as he continued fucking into you. Satoru now had you on your back, his hand wrapped around your neck, in a tight grasp as he pounded into you. He seemed to not get the signal that you weren’t enjoying it. “Gojo..!” You cried out as his cock hit a specific spot. Your hands were around his wrist, trying to push him away. “Quit resisting, bitch. I know you like it. Better stay still before I do something bad.” You shook your head, tears running down the sides of your face. Satoru slapped your face, which made your breathing stop for a second. “Take it, you stupid cunt. Take it. I know you can.” He said smoothing over your cheek. You nod out of fear and let him keep pounding into you.

After a moment, you reach your breaking point. It was just too much, and you were getting really uncomfortable. “G-gojo..” Your voice was soft and hoarse as you called out to him. Satoru was too immersed in the pleasure and ignored you. You call out to him once again. “Gojo.. i-i dont-“ “shut up.” That was all he said as he increased his speed. You cried out. “Gojo..! P-please..!” With every word you said, his pace and strength increased. “Satoru stop! I don’t like it! Stop it, please!” You screamed out, bursting into tears, making Satoru stop and look at you, astonished. You were not expecting his next move. Satoru immediately wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to his sweaty body. He held your shaking body tightly towards himself. You were too out of it to process the embrace and just cried into his chest. His hands smoothed over your lower back. “Shh..shh..” he shushed you, kissing your forehead softly. This was the first time he ever showed you affection. His grip tightened. “Its fine.. you are safe with me. Dont cry. Im sorry..” he whispered into your ears. You couldn’t help but cry into his chest more. “Im gonna prepare us a bath… will that be okay with you?” He asked you tenderly. You nod and feel his warmth leave your side. He quickly wrapped you in his haori, put his pants back on, and walked out of the room. You heard him ordering his servants to prepare a bath immediately before he returned to your shared room. He sat in front of you and pulled you into his lap, hugging you tightly. “Its alright.. You are okay..” He kissed your head before picking you up in bridal style.

He slowly placed you in the warm water before getting in himself. His hands wrapped around your waist gently, pulling you closer to his chest. Your head lay on his chest as you sniffled and cried. Satoru was gently stroking your hair, not wanting to make you even more uncomfortable. “I..im- im sorry.. g-gojo” you managed to mumble out. Satoru shook his head, pulling you in closer. “No. Im sorry. I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me you were uncomfortable?” He asks you with concern. You nod. “I- i… was scared. Im sorry. Im sorry i was not able to-“ “shh..shh.. its alright. I'm glad you are feeling okay. That's the only thing that matters right now."

You nuzzle into his chest, loving the warmth of his body wrapped around you. Satoru sighed and kissed your forehead. “I love you.” 

A/N: HEHE THANK YOU FOR READING!!! Sorry if it seemed too rushed 😭 More clan leader gojo headcanons? 🤫🧏‍♂️

[sinswithpleasure]

Hard And Fast, Just The Way They Like It 

—-------—

For @maemisnippets / @nsfwmaemi. A little BFH piece, I suppose, but also because you said you wanted it.

—-------—

“Come on, Hikaru, baby, that’s right, moan louder for me, that’s it!”

The only response you get is a broken moan from the girl in question. Hikaru has her legs and arms wrapped tightly around your body, and you take great pleasure in bouncing her naked body atop your cock over and over, enjoying how you hilt every time. Gravity only aids in helping you to hit even deeper spots inside her dripping pussy with every time she’s impaled on your shaft. 

“Daddy, Daddy, you’re—HNGH!—fucking me so deep, so fu—NGH!—fucking hard, keep fucking me like that, keep—” Hikaru can’t help but ramble, and you don’t blame her at all. She’s a talker in bed, and the filth she spews only spurs you to fuck her harder.

“Shut up and just take my cock, you slut. We have an audience, remember?”

You field a glance to your left, and you’re greeted with the prettiest sight—Kim Dayeon, naked on your bed, two fingers pumping her pussy as she watches you rail her roommate. The girl can’t help moaning as she watches, the sight of Hikaru being fucked like a common whore driving her to pump her own pussy harder. The wet spot on the sheets between her legs only grows bigger as she leaks with every thrust of her fingers, and she whimpers as you look at her. The girl pulls her fingers out of her dripping cunt, and you only grin harder when she slaps her own pussy, loudly gasping at the pain and pleasure she gives herself. 

“Fuck, you’re both so hot, shit…” You refocus your efforts to fucking Hikaru, and the girl almost wails in pleasure as you harshly fuck upwards into her, forcing her to take your cock to the hilt every time. 

“Daddy, your cock’s stretching my pussy so good—” Hikaru doesn’t stop with her dirty talk, and you choose to turn that to your advantage.

“Don’t tell me, tell Dayeonnie, won’t you, baby? She’s the one taking this cock next, anyway.”

“Dayeonnie, oh fuck, Dayeonnie, Daddy’s stretching my pussy, he’s—hngh!—he’s stretching me so fucking good, he’s using my pussy the way it should, like it’s just a toy, f—” Hikaru mindlessly babbles her every thought, the pleasure of your cock filling her tight hole all she can focus on.

“That’s enough, babygirl.” You grin maniacally as you pull her off your cock and throw her on the bed next to Dayeon. “Get on all fours in front of our Dayeonnie, mm?”

You wink at Dayeon when you notice her eyes flicking between your hard, slick cock and your face. She whines in pleasure as she teases her clit with her wet fingers, watching both you and Hikaru get into position with anticipation. 

“Dayeonnie, baby, watch how Hikaru takes me, okay?” You wink once more, smiling sweetly as if you aren’t about to ruin the girl in front of you. “You’re next after her.”

It is as if a switch is flipped—you grab Hikaru by her hair, and you pull it back harshly so Dayeon can watch her every expression. At the same time, you plunge your cock back into Hikaru’s tight, warm cunt, and you begin to rail her once more, all for Dayeon to watch. Hikaru screams when you hilt deep in her, and as you begin to rock her body with every thrust, you watch Dayeon begin to fondle her own chest once more, her fingers plunging into her pussy at the same rhythm. Once in a while, she slaps her pussy hard, and her hips would buck as she cries out. 

“Fuck, Hikaru, look at how much Dayeon enjoys watching us.” You can’t help but rile Hikaru up more. “You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, yes Daddy, I’m a dirty little slut, I’m your dirty little slut!”

When you give Hikaru’s ass a hard smack, Dayeon gasps and whimpers. The girl you’re fucking gutturally moans, and you continue spanking her, every strike causing her pussy to clench around your cock. Dayeon fucks herself hard watching you manhandle Hikaru, and she can’t keep herself quiet as she enjoys the pleasure coursing through her veins. 

“Fuck, you’re getting tighter, baby. Gonna cum all over my cock, hmm? Gonna cum for Dayeonnie to watch?”

“Oh my God, fuck, yes, fuck, Daddy, I’m gonna cum soon, I’m—” Hikaru’s eyes are glassy, unfocused. The haze of lust and pleasure clouds her mind entirely. 

“Don’t tell me, baby, tell Dayeonnie. Tell her about how good Daddy’s cock feels. Tell her how you’re about to cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

“Dayeonnie…” Hikaru’s loud moan draws one from Dayeon as well. “Daddy’s cock is the best—fuck! I… I’m gonna cum, Dayeonnie, I’m gonna cum all over Daddy’s cock, I’m gonna cum in front of you, I’m gonna squirt all over it, gonna fucking… fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

With a shudder and a loud wail, Hikaru squirts all over your cock. The girl convulses as her orgasm takes her by force, and her eyes roll back, jaw falling slack into the picture perfect ahegao as her pussy crushes your cock in its grip. You’re keep fucking her through her orgasm though, and burst after burst of her cum drenches your legs, as well as the sheets beneath her. 

Dayeon doesn’t last much longer either—the sight of her roommate orgasming throws her into one of her own, and she screams as she squirts as well. While Hikaru’s comes in bursts, Dayeon squirts with one strong stream, drenching herself, Hikaru, and you in her cum. Her hips buck with every wave of orgasmic pleasure, and she rubs her clit hard and fast as gush after gush of her juices sprays into the air. 

You’re the last to cum—right after Dayeon orgasms, you feel your peak take you as well. Huge bursts of semen explode from the tip of your cock as you blast thick white cum deep into Hikaru’s cunt, every stroke of your cock fucking it deeper and deeper into her. Every time you hilt, you shoot your hot cum deep into her, and you let the high wash over you. 

When all of your orgasms subside, Hikaru crawls to a dry spot on the bed. Thick white cum leaks from her freshly-fucked pussy when she pulls herself off you, and the blissed-out expression on her face tells both you and Dayeon all that’s needed to know. You turn your attention to Dayeon and you grin. 

“Your turn, Dayeon, baby.”

Your cock remains hard throughout—you’re more than capable of going a second time. Dayeon stares at your cumstained shaft, a mixture of semen and Hikaru’s juices dripping from the tip, and you crawl up onto the bed to line your shaft up with her pussy. “Ready?”

When Dayeon nods, you push your cock into her pussy. The girl loudly moans in pleasure as you fill her pussy up with your shaft, and you can’t help but groan at how tight she is. Dayeon’s cunt is tighter than Hikaru’s, and she’s so much wetter as well. You’re thrusting already, after you hilt, and you take it slow at first. 

“I’m gonna thrust harder, Dayeon.” You take a moment to check for her approval. 

“Do it.” Dayeon bites her lip, and she looks up at you with pleading eyes. “Fuck me like you fucked Hikaru.”

With her consent given, you waste no time at all beginning to fuck Dayeon. You begin to fondle her breasts as you make short snappy thrusts into her. The girl writhes in pleasure beneath you, but her eyes remain locked on you, watching how you fuck her pussy. Dayeon’s slick pussy has you grunting in pleasure with every stroke, and the girl can’t help but moan at the stretch of her tight cunt. Every time you hilt, you feel her walls tighten around you, and when you let go of her breasts to steady yourself, you can’t help but notice how her big breasts jiggle with every thrust. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot like that, Dayeon, shit…” You grab Dayeon’s hips to steady her as well. “Tell me, how was it watching Hikaru having sex, hm?”

“It—ugh…—It was so, so fucking hot…” Dayeon can’t resist answering you. “She looked so hot being fucked.”

Your only response is a grin, and you maintain your hard thrusts into Dayeon. When the girl reaches to play with her nipples for more pleasure, you slap her hand away. 

“I’m the only one who’s gonna touch you like that, dear. You’re being a bad girl, and bad girls get punished.”

When you finish speaking, you raise your hand, and you level a slap right across Dayeon’s breasts. The girl yelps in pain, but you can see the pleasure wash across her face, and you do it once more to confirm your suspicions. When she moans, you do it again, and her pussy clenches around you. 

“Oh, dearie, you like getting your tits slapped, mm?” You return to fondling Dayeon’s chest, now red from the slaps, and the girl softly hisses at the sting, though you know she’s enjoying it. “I don’t think it’s much of a punishment anymore now, is it?”

“I—Mmf!—I… please, I…” Dayeon submits entirely, and all she does is whine and groan through the fucking you’re giving her. “Please make me cum, please!”

“Oh, you bet I will, baby.” With Dayeon’s plea, you begin to piston yourself into her cunt faster and harder than before. It doesn’t take much longer before you feel Dayeon’s pussy beginning to get tighter and wetter. Her moans only get louder, and you give her tits a few more slaps for good measure. 

“Cum for me, Dayeon.”

Instantly, the girl beneath you is thrashing, writhing, moaning as her orgasm washes over her. Gushes of squirt drench the sheets and your cock, and you pull out of her to rub it all over her clit and pussy. Dayeon’s cum sprays everywhere, and you feast your eyes on the sight in front of you, eager to cum for her as well. Before her orgasm subsides, you’re already thrusting in her sensitive pussy once more. 

“No, please, I—I’m still sensitive, please!” Dayeon squeals from the oversensitivity as you pin her down against the bed, and you’re quick to slap her tits once more, leading her to cry out in pleasure. 

“I don’t care, baby. Just cum again all over my cock.” You level the same harsh thrusts as earlier into Dayeon once more, intent on chasing your own high now. You focus your attention on the building pressure inside you, on the pleasure you derive from fucking Dayeon. Every thrust takes you closer and closer…

“Fuck, fuck, Dayeon, take it all!”

With a harsh grunt, you hilt deep in Dayeon’s cunt as you shoot your hot cum deep into her. The girl beneath you screams once more as she’s fucked right into her second orgasm. Dayeon squirts again beneath you, gushes of her cum leaking every time you pull out of her, before thrusting back in to fill her cunt with more cum. You pull her close as the both of you cum together, and when it all subsides, you slowly pull your softening cock out of the girl beneath you. A thick white stream of cum leaks out of Dayeon when you pull out, and you fall to her side, between your two partners for the night. 

“Daddy, we should do this again.” Hikaru is the first to cuddle up with you. She wraps an arm around you as she snuggles close.

Dayeon follows almost instantly, and she gives you a soft kiss on the cheek when she shifts in to cuddle you too. 

“Next time, I want to be carried like Hikaru was, okay?”