#he has suffered worse than jesus

[auberginesdonthavelimbs]

I feel like the show expects me to be upset just because spike is suffering.

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | monoma

Monoma’s route of soulmate trope.

“why did put your whole pussy into the chapter for the character no one wanted to read next???”

i want to make him pop in the microwave. next question

warnings: reader is a masochist but takes no shit. Monoma is explicitly a virgin, and it’s implied that reader is as well—but it isn’t definite. sexual material but not the actual act of penetration ("then what's the point?" delayed gratification, babey!!!). Fem reader.

~12k words

Monoma let out a scornful laugh so piercing and deliberate that it had no problem reaching your lunch table. “Fucking preposterous. Having a soulmate from Class 3-A would be so humiliating that I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, let alone you, Kendo.” His laughter grew louder, sounding a bit forced, but it would have to be in order for the whole lunchroom to hear it. “Unfortunately for you. Sucks to suck!”

 Jirou clicked her tongue and turned back to her sandwich, tapping you on the shoulder with a dangly earbud. “His dick must be tiny.”

 You snorted into your noodles and covered your mouth. “I don’t even wanna think about his dick or anything else about him,” you said, taking the napkin that Shinsou offered you, “He’s insufferable.”

 “He told me he doesn’t have a soulmate,” said Shinsou, nodding towards Monoma, “Said the math was against him, but he didn’t care too much. Said it’s better than someone in 3-A.”

 “Jesus,” you said, frowning, “How much does he hate us for him to want to be without a soulmate? Worse, he’s in the same no-soulmate club as Mineta.”

 “I wouldn’t want anything in common with him.” Jirou glanced towards Mineta, eating alone against the caf wall. Good. Suffer, pervert.

 When Jirou got up to throw her trash away, you sighed and leant on Shinsou’s shoulder. “Shinsou, how’s your soulmate search going?”

 He swallowed thickly. “It’s not. How about yours?”

 “Well,” you said, scrunching up your face, “I have a soulmate, but I’ve got no fucking idea who.”

 Shinsou tilted his head, clonking onto yours. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 “I think we’d better go out to the courtyard for this,” you said, swinging your bag strap over your shoulder, “It requires a visual.”

 By the time Shinsou and you had planted yourselves outside behind a cherry tree towards the back of the courtyard (strategically chosen so that you would be hidden behind bushes and hedges, far away from the stone path, just in case someone saw you and Shinsou and got the wrong idea), you hadn’t briefed him yet, due to other students stopping you on the way for your notes.

 “But what do you mean you don’t know?” Shinsou let his backpack slide to the base of the tree trunk and, once you had sat on your knees, he joined you on the ground.

 “I have a mark,” you said, your fists resting on your knees, “but I can’t read it. I think it’s someone’s name—I don’t think it’s long enough to be first words—but whoever it is has extremely shitty handwriting.”

 “You want me to look at it?”

 “Yeah,” you said, reaching for the hem of your shirt but pausing, “It’s in a weird place, so that’s why we’re hidden. I don’t want anyone thinking you’re attacking me.”

 Shinsou’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, and he smirked. “Is it on your tit?”

 “No,” you said, frowning, “but it’s near one, and it’s all scrunched up and cramped on my ribcage; to get a good look, I’m gonna have to stretch.”

 “Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said, and you lay down in the grass and pulled your shirt up to just below your bra, where the muddled words that barely spanned a centimetre vertically scrawled across the left half of your ribs.

 His brow furrowed, Shinsou hunched over your chest, leaning down and scanning the text.

 He squinted.

 “Give me a moment.” Shinsou shifted from your side to (“Sorry about this.”) straddle you, doing his best not to put his weight on you, his hips staying high with his hands planted on either side of you.

 (“Arch your back a little more?”)

 He tilted his head.

 “Yeah, I’ve got no fucking clue,” Shinsou said, sitting back and off of you, “It’s too small and chaotic. I think I can make out the last kanji in the second word, but it can be read as so many different things, so I can’t say anything for certain. We could go old-school: Tokoyami has a magnifying glass. I could go grab that.”

 “Sure,” you said, shrugging, “You might as well.”

 “I’ll be back,” said Shinsou, getting to his feet with a little jump and brushing off his knees, “Hang in there.”

 Nodding, you closed your eyes as Shinsou jogged off through the bushes, and you stretched your arms above your head, waiting for the soft crack. The first thing you’d say to your soulmate shouldn’t be a critique of his handwriting, so you were tossing your mind around for something relevant that wasn’t outright rude.

 At the sound of the bushes rustling, you turned to raise a brow at Shinsou for returning so soon, but as you held your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun, the silhouette staring down at you blurred not into Shinsou but Monoma.

 Smile slipping away, you yanked your shirt down your stomach again. “The hell do you want? Shinsou’s left, so you’ll have to wait to talk to him.”

 Monoma tossed his hair to the side. “I caught him on the way to your secret little hiding place. What were you talking about?”

 “It doesn’t matter to you, dickhead.” You pushed yourself up on your elbows and then fully sat up as he squatted next to you. “This soulmate shit is supposed to be personal, so get fucking lost, Monoma.”

 Inhaling sharply when you said his name, he held his index finger against his smirk. “Do you actually want me to leave?”

 Bitch-ass. “Of course—”

 And your mind went blank.

 Monoma let out a curt laugh as he watched your realization wash over your face. “That’s what I thought. Now, lie back down for me. That’s good; you’re so good when you want to be,” he said, hunching over you, teeming with rage and gritting your teeth.

 “Don’t talk to me like that.”

 He gave a dismissive wave. “You like it,” he said, moving to sit cross-legged, “C’mon, show me what you were showing him. Go on.”

 Fuming, you dragged your shirt hem upwards, but you did it so slowly that he snapped his fingers and told you to hurry up—and you had to. How many more minutes would Shinsou’s quirk last? Five? Ten? If you could be annoying for ten whole minutes, following the letter of the law if not the spirit, then you could walk away unscathed.

 (An aside: if your soulmate could have Monoma’s quirk to steal Shinsou’s quirk, that’d be hot. Tell me when to open my mouth, sir.)

 Clenching your jaw, you pointedly looked away when he drew closer to your chest to look at the mark.

 “Your soulmark’s on your chest, huh? Right under your—your breast,” Monoma said, propping his chin on his fist. “So, it’s visible if you went swimming. It could show.” He scoffed. “And you were crude enough to willingly show it to just some guy who’s not your soulmate.”

 Your knuckles tightened around the fabric. “Not like it’s a big deal, since neither of us can read it. Let me go, Mon—”

 But his brainwashing loosed you from its grip the same moment his hand dropped into his lap, and he sucked in through his teeth. “You can’t read it?”

 You’re not falling for that again. You kept your mouth shut and moved to gather your and Shinsou’s belongings.

 “What do you mean you can’t read it?” Monoma asked, dogging you while you shoved your stuff into your backpack.

 Shaking your head, you side-stepped him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and lifting Shinsou’s to your front.

 Crowding you, he asked, his grin and tone growing to that usual obnoxious tone, “Oh, have you not learnt how to read yet? Is that why you’re showing Shinsou? Can anyone in 3-A read? Why don’t you—”

 You shot him a foul look and elbowed him in the stomach, hard, and Monoma doubled over, clutching the spot and muttering under his breath.

 ***

 The magnifying glass didn’t fucking help. The kanji were that deformed; the handwriting was that incomprehensible. Yes, it’s probably a name, since it’s two words that aren’t the same length as a standard greeting (being a first words soulmark situation). You took it to yourself to borrow notes, cycling through everyone’s handwriting in class. Yes, signatures could be way different than regular handwriting, but there are similarities.

 But not in your bitch of a soulmate’s handwriting.

 Going through your unmatched classmates’ notes made you hate your soulmate’s penmanship even more, because if Bakugou Katsuki can write neatly enough to read, anyone should be able to.

 Nobody’s matched your soulmark.

 You decided you could be a little rude when you met your soulmate, for all the trouble he’s causing you.

 ***

 “Oh, ho?”

 Oh, God, not now. You curled in more on yourself, trying to hide yourself in your hoodie and kept your eyes on Kaminari’s notes.

 “Alone on a Friday night? Do you not have any friends to study with?” Monoma pulled out the library chair next to you, the legs scraping the tile, but he didn’t sit down and instead leant his weight against it so that he could loom over you. “How embarrassing.”

 You ignored him. You flipped to the back of a page.

 “Come, now, I don’t have Shinsou’s quirk at the moment. You’re allowed to talk to me,” he said, nudging you with his hip while he tossed his book to himself, “and you should, if you want some shred of intelligent conversation. Bet there’s not a lot of it in 3-A.”

 Kaminari had really inconsistent handwriting. It was as if he had to draw each stroke completely different than he had last drawn it.

 “C’mon, look at me,” said Monoma, and he slid the edge of his book underneath your chin and lifted it to direct your gaze at him.

 The slow drag of the paperback against the tender skin of your neck had you swallowing excess saliva. Oh, God. Flinching away, you knocked his book out of his hand. “In case you haven’t noticed, Monoma, you’re a bit of an ass.”

 “It’s part of my charm,” he said, flashing you a cavalier grin as he stooped to pick up his book, which he immediately chucked onto the notes you were studying, “What’s all this, then? History notes? Our test isn’t for…” Monoma crossed his arms on the library table and hunched to survey the papers, and he frowned. “Good Lord, why would you borrow that idiot Kaminari’s notes? He’s at the bottom of your class, which is saying something.”

 You began to gather up the notes in a huff. “Soulmate stuff is supposed to be personal, Monoma.”

 “I don’t understand how that’s relevant.”

 “Get fucked, moron,” you said, shoving everything into your bag and pushing out your chair in a screech. “Jerk off onto those illustrations, for all I care—”

 He grabbed your wrist.

 Lightly.

 Just his thumb and middle finger. Space in between.

 You froze and stared down at it.

 “Did I say you could leave?”

 Lips parted, your eyes flicked to his.

 “Sit back down. I’ll sit, too.”

 Your throat ran dry as he pulled out your chair for you.

 When the two of you were seated, he was leaning on his elbow on the table, smug as hell, waiting for you to break first, but goddamn, you were frothing with a boiled-over fury; how the fuck dare he; oh, my God.

 Step one: cover your ass.

 You cleared your throat and spoke softly (library hours!). “First off, how fucking dare you talk to me like that; you shouldn’t fucking talk to anyone like that. You don’t own anyone; that showed an immense amount of disrespect towards—and I know you hate 3-A on principle; that’s fine. I get it, I guess. But you can’t fucking act like that in real life towards anyone—”

 “Pfft.” Monoma bit the inside of his index finger. “You like it.”

 How dare he say something so accurate. Step two: proceed to cover your ass. “What the fuck, man,” you said, slapping the table, “You can’t be an asshole to everyone and claim that everyone finds it hot. Everyone just finds you super fucking annoying. Not everyone is a masochist.”

 The fucker actually held out his hand to check his nails. “Like you?”

 You’ve dug your own grave.

 Monoma clicked his tongue before smirking. “That hesitation says everything I need to know.”

 Why aren’t you covering your ass?!

 “No, I,” you said. C’mon, think! Or at least look like you’re thinking! Brow furrowed, you opened your mouth and then closed it. “I was simply struck dumb by the weird direction the conversation was going. I thought we were talking about how much of an ass you are.”

 “It’s connected,” he said, and he held up a finger with each hand before tapping them together. “Even before, I’ve noticed that whenever I’ve ripped your class to shreds, you’re always glaring at me, otherwise with so carefully controlled an expression—especially when I’m verbally insulting someone. You’ve gotten very good at controlling your face so that the arousal doesn’t show—”

 “What the fuck is wrong with you,” you asked flatly.

 “Because you’re projecting,” he hissed, clamping his hand on the back of your chair to get closer to you (his breath hit your face with each harsh consonant), “You’re thinking that it could be you I’m degrading in front of everyone, you who’s got my complete attention, whether it be negative or not. You’re—”

 “Hold up,” you said, placing your hand on his chest and firmly pushing him away by your fingertips (before he says something that hits a bit too close to home), “Let’s back up. Say you’ll listen to me with an open mind.”

 Pouting, Monoma slumped back in his seat and blew out of the corner of his mouth to huff his hair out of his eyes. “Fine.”

 “First off—and I swear to you I am being honest here—when I look at you with a controlled, annoyed expression, it is because I am annoyed at you. Your running gag of making fun of 3-A is not cute. It’s a bit pathetic. It’s annoying.”

 Monoma frowned. It took him a moment, but he tilted his head, as if he were genuinely considering it. “It’s because it’s horrible being reminded of what greatness looks like, right?”

 You shook your head. “It’s usually at a bad time for competition, anyway, since our class tends to go through a lot of outside-influenced events that already have us pretty damn stressed. Regular school stuff feels like it holds less weight when, like, the League of Villains targeted us recently.”

 He blinked. Once, twice. Then his jaw dropped. “Are you saying I’m annoying?”

 You buried your face in your hands.

 “But you look so aroused when I taunt you.”

 Good God, you’re going to peel off your skin so that you can whack him with each and every one of your ribs. “Monoma,” you said, peeking through your fingers, “You would fucking know when I’m aroused.”

 “Well, I should hope so,” he said, tapping his fingers in a rhythm on the table, “I hope to learn.”

 “What the fuck is wrong with—”

 “Why are you studying Kaminari’s notes, anyway? If it’s not for school.”

 You sighed. Whatever. Anything’s better than talking about what turns you on. If you answer as straightforwardly as possible, maybe he’ll get bored and leave. “Kaminari has the shittiest handwriting in my class.”

 “It looked perfectly legible to me.”

 “Yeah,” you said, digging a page back out of your bag, “Take a gander. Take a goose. Look at this shit.” You smoothed the rumpled paper onto the table, scooting your chair noisily closer to it (he lifted his chair quietly). “It’s like the man didn’t go to kindergarten. Look at the way he forms his kanji. No consistent form. No style,” you said, gesturing with your pinkie towards a particularly egregious part, “He’s got some bulky words over here, but it gets small and tight towards the bottom, and—” You cut yourself off and scratched your forehead. “It’s still better than my soulmate’s handwriting.”

 Monoma’s eyes snapped up to yours. “Huh?”

 “My soulmate’s handwriting is shit. The shittiest I’ve ever seen. I can’t fucking read it. You saw.” You lowered your hand to graze the spot where it branded you. “Can’t even tell if it’s a name, or first words, or anything. I don’t know,” you said quietly. “Makes it feel like he’s so far away. Like I’ll never be able to find him, and this’ll chip away at my soul, like Tainted Love said. Never be able to—what the fuck is wrong with you?”

 Monoma had started unbuckling his belt.

 “Holy shit,” you said, sliding your chair away from him, “Just because I had a moment of vulnerability does not mean I’m down to fuck—”

 “Look at this.” Monoma tugged the waistband of his jeans down—

 “I’m not looking at your noodle dick.”

 “It’s not—what kind of noodles are you eating? No, fuck, I mean. It’s not my dick,” he said, brow furrowed, lips curled inside his mouth momentarily, “but you probably won’t believe me based on my word alone.”

 He’d pulled his jeans down about three centimetres—barely enough for the elastic of his boxers to show (high-waisted bitch)—and. And. And it’s your own goddamn signature, perfectly legible, you’d like to add, scrawled sideways on his hip, parallel to…to one half of that infuriating v that some guys have.

 “Do we both have all of the information now?” He yanked his jeans back up and fumbled for the ends of his belt.

 “Uh,” you said really intelligently.

 “With that out of the way, I’d like to propose—”

 “Already?”

 “—a guideline,” Monoma finished as he sat back down, narrowing his eyes, “since it appears we’re both inclined to miscommunication: that we be as honest as we can with each other and tell each other what we’re thinking, in general, to prevent confusion.”

 “How reasonable of you,” you said, “I hate it.”

 “No, you don’t.”

 “I don’t,” you admitted.

 “Onto other things I’m right about.” Shifting in his seat to face you, Monoma nudged your knee with his and reached for your hand—he made eye contact with you to see if it were all right, and after you nodded very slightly, he took it, your fingers curving into his palm as they both rested in your lap. “You like it when I’m a bit mean to you, yes?”

 You scowled. “Hey.”

 He smiled, glancing at your hands. “Yes?”

 Pointedly looking away, you said, “Yes.”

 “I don’t wanna do anything you don’t like,” he said, and he winced. “I thought you already knew and that you were playing into the teasing thing, so I’m sorry for how I was acting towards you.”

 God. You guessed you could be honest with your stupid idiot beautiful man of a soulmate. “No, no. I’m a bit fucked up to where I think the casual bullying thing is attractive.”

 Again, Monoma winced. “But I didn’t have your permission.”

 You scoffed. “You hardly have permission when you try to roast the whole of 3-A—”

 “Yeah, but that doesn’t have sexual undertones,” said Monoma, taking your other hand and edging his chair closer to you.

 “I should hope not.”

 “It doesn’t.” Closing his eyes, he sighed and rubbed his thumbs over your fingers, his skin soft where you touched him. “I—I have another guideline. More like a rule.”

 “Let’s hear it.”

 Monoma cracked one eye open, gauging your expression before opening them both. “I’d like to keep the fact that we’re soulmates a secret. I’m not ashamed of you, by any means, but—but if everyone finds out that I’ve got a soulmate in 3-A after all the shit I’ve talked—” He grimaced, his shoulders falling slack. “There’ll be hell to pay. I know this is a lot to ask, but—”

 “Sure,” you said, giving his (soft) hands a squeeze, “but I’ve got a rule—guideline—or two myself. We’re being honest with each other?”

 “Of course.”

 “One: lend me your moisturiser.”

 Monoma laughed, the first time you’ve knowingly made your soulmate laugh. You can already tell you’re going to collect so much of his laughter like prized marbles in your pocket. You looked forward to it.

 “Two: you should keep bullying Class 3-A.”

 Here Monoma frowned, but before he could open his mouth, you continued.

 “Three: you start bullying me—in private, though.”

 He opened his mouth, a smile tugging on the corners, and he closed it again before leaning back in his seat. “All right, then, masochist. Tell me what you’re into.”

 ***

 In the first joint training session between 3-A and 3-B since the soulmate incident, you faked an injury.

 “Fucking hell,” you said, with more volume and vehemence than you would have for a normal wound, and you crumpled to the ground to grasp delicately at your calf (catching the attention of those sparring nearby). While you were shielding it from view, you ripped part of the fabric of your P.E. uniform pants leg.

 Shoda Nirengeki, who’d been sparring you, rushed over towards where you crouched and gestured over his shoulder to Aizawa-sensei, who had started walking before he’d been summoned.

 “Jesus Christ, Shoda,” you said, blinking a lot to pretend like you’re trying not to cry, “Good—good work.” You sniffed. “Holy shit. Your—your Twin Impact stuff is really coming along.”

 Shoda’s perpetually grim expression grew grimmer. “Sorry about that,” he was saying as Aizawa stopped behind you, “Do you think you need to go see Recovery Girl?”

 “Uh,” you said, glancing in what you hoped was a nervous way at Aizawa-sensei and back at Shoda, “Uh, no. No, I can keep going. Just let me—” Visibly bracing yourself, you pushed yourself up to stand, refusing Aizawa’s help, and you wobbled.

 “Change out of your P.E. uniform and go see Recovery Girl,” he said, “You’re excused for the rest of the period. Shoda, let’s find you another pair to spar with.” Aizawa paused. “Can you get to her office by yourself?”

 You nodded, like a student who didn’t want to show weakness. Yeah. “Sure. I’ll just—just be slow going, y’know? I’ll…I’ll be fine.”

 Aizawa dismissed you, and while you felt like a bit of an ass faking a limp along the gym wall, it was a perfect balance of oh-I-don’t-want-to-bring-attention-to-myself-BUT.

 Once you closed to gym doors behind you, you heaved a sigh. Hopefully, that was enough for that idiot to notice. You walked towards the girls’ locker room.

 Where’s your locker, your locker—yeah, around the bend towards the back, near the showers, behind the weird island of lockers in the middle. Yours was the last one for 3-A before 3-B’s lockers started, and even then, unclaimed lockers stretched between classes—probably for privacy between shower stalls.

 When the door swung open with a slow squeak, you had to bite back a smile as you took your school blazer off its hanger.

 “Look who thinks she can ditch the only class we’ve had together in weeks,” Monoma said from the doorframe, judging by the sound, “but she’s not as slick as she thinks.”

 His sluggish footsteps echoed on the locker room tile, and you changed your mind: you put your blazer back in your locker to skip a step, instead unbuttoning the first button on your P.E. top, starting at the collar.

 “You were just begging for any shred of my attention.” Sounds like he’s rounded the island. You kept your back to him. “Well, you’ve got it. And you like it more than you care to admit.”

 Oh, good start. “What are you doing in the girls’ locker room, Monoma?” you asked flatly, hiding the fact that you were unbuttoning your shirt by hunching into your locker to tug at your duffel bag zipper. “You’re not supposed to be in here. You can’t cut class without anyone noticing.”

 “No more than anyone will notice you’ve miraculously been healed without going to Recovery Girl.” Judging by his shadow (flickering because of the spinning fan blades between the fluorescent lights), he placed a knee on the wooden bench behind you, and he stretched forward so that his breath brushed against the back of your neck. “But you can’t escape me.” He blew cool air into your ear, and at your shiver, he hummed. “And I believe I told you to call me Neito.”

 You were pleasantly surprised by how good he was at this—but you supposed you shouldn’t be, since he’s already told you about the improv class he took over the summer. Theatre kids will be freaks and be good at it on occasion.

 You tried to turn to face him, but Monoma seized the back of your head and pressed your cheek into the locker vents, not very hard but firmly enough to leave an imprint on your skin. “No, you don’t get to look at me unless I say you can. Got that?”

 “Let go of me; get fucked, Mo—”

 “I said—” He shoved you against the next closed locker with his other hand splayed widely across the small of your back, and the cool of the metal pricked goosebumps where it touched your bare skin. “—Got that? Can’t you hear me, babe? Or are you just that thoughtless?”

 Clearing your throat, you swallowed thickly. “I can hear you just fine.”

 “Oh?” Monoma clicked his tongue (a habit of his you’ve previously thought was rather vexing, but it’s since grown to be a perfect mark of condescension). “I can hear you just fine what?”

 You clenched your teeth. “I can hear you just fine, dipshit.”

 “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” Monoma gripped the hair at the base of your neck and yanked, and he hissed into your ear, his face barely out of your periphery. “You fucking get off on pissing me off, but it’s not gonna pay off in the long run. It’s not gonna be long until I have you in your rightful place: in my bed or under my fucking boot. And you’ll want it; you’ll want what I give you, and I want you writhing underneath me, so teary-eyed and pitiful and overstimulated that you’ll finally puncture your ego enough to beg me to stop, and I won’t.”

 “As if I’d ever beg you for anything,” you said, revelling in the way he used his harsh grip on your hair to guide your face away from the vents to prevent you from getting cut, “You’ve never had anything I’ve ever wanted.”

 “Yeah, well—” Monoma cut himself off, scoffing onto the back of your neck. “Good Lord. If that’s the truth, then you’ve got another thing comin’ to you—I’ve wanted you since before all the soulmate stuff, and now that goddamn fate has put a permanent mark in my shape over your heart, no one’s gonna take you away from me.”

 You jolted in place, even though his hands roamed down to pin you by your hips. “Neito, is that—?”

 “You’re goddamn right it is. You’ve—you’ve fucking distracted me when I’ve had to work harder than anyone else in this fucking school, studying not only my quirk but every quirk around me—and in you’d saunter. What the hell were you playing at? Seems like you don’t even try,” he said with a grunt, and his thumbs began to dig into the small of your back from his clutch on your hips—good pain, a delicate feeling that had your vision blurring for a second—and Monoma used his shoulder to keep you pressed against the locker, finally pressing his chest against your back (still sweaty from sparring, but his body heat was a comforting contrast to the increasingly lukewarm metal against your stomach).

 Tilting his head, he rested his cheek near your uniform collar so that he spoke against your neck. “All right, sweetheart? So, don’t push your soulmate away. Even now, I’m being so patient with you, and I could be even more, offer to wait for you to give yourself to me so that I can destroy you in every way you crave. Invite you to explore together how long it takes you to break. But y’know?” His lips grazed your neck with every word. “I’d rather make you regret keeping what’s mine from me for such a long time.”

 Wait, you’d been getting so into it you’d forgotten to pretend to struggle. So, you squirmed in his grasp and tried to kick him from behind. “Only in your pathetic little wet dreams are you and me—”

 “Hey,” Monoma said, lifting both the arrogant voice and his chin from your shoulder, “You’re not actually hurt, are you? Do you need to go to Recov—”

 “No! No, you’re doing great,” you said, and you finally got to look him in the eye, nodding encouragingly, “I’m fine; I faked an injury for this. This is good. You’re really good.”

 With a softness sweeping over his face, Monoma smiled. “Thanks; I wrote some of these lines this morning.”

 Fucking nerd.

 He stretched to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So, you won’t mind if I do this?” With the smug voice returning (you snapped back towards the inside of your locker), he rammed his thigh between your legs, the pressure initially on your ass before he jerked you back by the hips so that it was all against your clit—he pushed down on the swell of your ass to keep you still.

 “Regardless of your meagre little excuse to get my attention, I think you are sick, but it’s not something that can be cured, can it?” Monoma brought his other arm around to wrap around you, his palm flat against your bare collarbone (he thought you wouldn’t notice his quiet gasp when he realised your shirt was unbuttoned, but he’s not subtle), so he’s keeping your back arched as he pressed down on your ass. “You’re a sick little pervert—you stay up late fucking yourself while thinking of me, don’t you? Thinking of my hands on you just like this? That’s why—”

 “Wrong—”

 “Oh, yeah? But you’re turned on by this now, so I know you’re fucking soaked—”

 “Wrong again, asshole—”

 Monoma laughed loudly enough for it to reverberate throughout the locker room, and you made an effort to elbow him, which he evaded. “Is that so? You’re not wet? Open your legs, then.”

 His hand trailed from your collarbone down to just above your bra, stopping short of touching your boob in a way that matters, and you jerked away too hard and struck your shoulder against the locker. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

 When he finally moved his hand from your hip around to graze your bare stomach with his fingertips, Monoma fucking shuddered. He briefly buried his face in your scrunched-up collar before lifting it to speak. “Say you hate me all you want.” He thrust his thigh upwards, lifting you enough for your toes to graze the floor (has—has Monoma fucking Neito always been strong enough to manhandle you?). “But you can’t deny the way I make you clench,” he said, and with his hand flat against your pelvis, he forced you to grind on his thigh all the way back until your ass met his—his fucking erection—

 The locker room door slammed open with the handle clattering, and Monoma had clamped his hand over your mouth and yanked you into a shower stall before Asui and Hagakure could start their noisily mournful search for a piece of Hagakure’s equipment that they left behind.

 Monoma clutched you to his heaving chest against the mildewed shower wall, leaning on it so that you wouldn’t have to, the hand on your hip keeping you close and the one over your mouth shaking—as it should be, you thought, since he’s got his soulmate’s ass against his cock.

 The girls talked while they riffled through their lockers, each door squeaking with the movement. Once your breathing quieted on its own, Monoma cautiously lifted his hand from your mouth, and he took you by the chin to look at him, raising his eyebrows to ask if you’re okay.

 His shoulders slackened from the tension once you nodded, and he closed his eyes to kiss the side of your head. Keeping his mouth near, he stared over your shoulder and reached both his arms around to start buttoning up your shirt.

 ***

 Another day, at your scheduled meeting at a vending machine during fourth period, the two of you agreed that while the threat of being caught is hot, neither of you actually want to found in that sort of position. You both said you’d be more careful, but you’d both said it in a bit of a joking way—playing the bully and victim felt better fast and loose, you’d said, even though in retrospect, it took more than a little planning.

 “The illusion of spontaneity, then,” Monoma said, attempting to roll his can of peach soda down his upper arm to pop it in the air with his elbow—you caught it from hitting the ground.

 “Still,” you said, deliberately placing the soda back in his hands rather than risk his dropping it again, “I worry about how much of your time you spend planning for this stuff. All I’m doing is reacting, while you basically have to have a script.”

 Monoma shot you a toothy smile while he plugged a couple of 50-yen coins into the vending machine for you. “More like an outline. It’s not too bad.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and leant against the machine while you punched in your selection, and over the whirr, he said, “Makes me get better by trying over and over again. And I’ll keep doing it over and over again, so long as it makes you happy.”

 “Oh, it does,” you said, bending down at the kerchunk to reach into the flap, “It really does.” You stood back up and snapped your fingers. “Oh, yeah, I finished your stupid-ass Franco-Belgian comics, but they’re in my dorm; I’ll get them back to you after dinner.”

 Monoma’s soda hissed when he opened it. “And are they as stupid and ass as you thought?” he asked with an easy grin.

 “No, considering I figured all of them were going to be like The Adventures of TinTin. Not the best starting point, Neito.”

 He shrugged. “It’s the one with the most international fame.”

 “I’ve been meaning to read Persepolis for a while now; I didn’t know it fit into that genre. I liked that a lot. Chlorophylle is charming, but I’m not sure I get all of the dated satire. Yoko Tsuno is fun; that, uh—that Rahan one isn’t as good as you think it is.”

 “What are you talking about? It’s hilarious. You get to see the process of discovery.” He took a swig of his peach soda too quickly and choked a little, like an idiot.

 “Thirteen was interesting,” you said, unscrewing the cap for your strawberry soda and paused so that it wouldn’t bubble over, “Do you have the other volumes?”

 Monoma wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Baby, I’ve got them in the original French, if you like.”

 “I do not like. You’re a freak,” you said, smiling down at your soda bottle, “I barely speak this language, and you’re stupidly talented enough to read—”

 When Awase rounded the corner and walked down the hallway towards the two of you, Monoma visibly floundered for a split second before launching into his (clown) routine.

 “Every single day proves me more and more right that no one in Class 3-A has any taste,” he said too loudly, gesturing wildly at you and spilling his own soda in the process, “I mean, come, now. Strawberry? It’s not even a berry. It’s a pseudocarp.”

 Get the man a clown nose; now you’re having an argument over food.

 “Your mom’s a pseudocarp,” you said as Awase passed by, hesitated, and turned back.

 “Is this idiot bothering you?” asked Awase, stepping slightly between you and Monoma.

 “Always,” you said, tossing your hair the best you could and spinning on your heel to go to class.

 ***

 You put more strategy into organising a girls’ pool volleyball game than you did for most of your practical hero assignments. Once the sun had gone down, the girls of the hero course would have a no-boys-allowed volleyball game in the school swimming pool as a reprieve from the stress of schoolwork and internships, even getting permission from Aizawa, Vlad King, and Nezu to ensure it’d be okay. Conveniently, a certain mouthy bitch would find out about the competition between 3-A and 3-B, and he’d sneak into the pool area to support his class to defeat 3-A. And oh, no, he’s the only boy at this girls’ event, and so his punishment would be to pack up all of the volleyball equipment with you at the end of the night, therefore ensuring a carefully crafted “public” moment of a bully and his victim he’s secretly in love with in a situation that has the illusion of possibly being interrupted but in actuality is quite private, since everyone has worn themselves out from the game and is eager to get the fuck back to the dorms.

 Unfortunately.

 By the time you’ve finished tying the net across the water, several boys from both classes have trickled into the pool area. None of them arrived together, each of them clearly having the same idea of being the only boy surrounded by girls in swimsuits, and now they were bitterly glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes. Hell, Kirishima was even here with Mina’s support, since she convinced him to do the heavy lifting—which they showed up too late to do, so you’ve already done it.

 Now you regretted telling Shinsou to stay away even after his offer to help set up, because you’d like some sanity amidst, like, Mineta and Kaminari not even trying to be discreet.

 When Monoma walked in with his fruity little towel over his arm, he gasped way more dramatically than the situation called for, but at least he didn’t say anything to further embarrass himself. He pouted all the way to his pool chair (good boy; he’d recognised your towel and bag to set up next to your chair in the far corner), where, even from the table at which you were arranging carrot sticks and sour candy (a balanced diet), you scouted out his battered copy of The Return of the King and the next volume of Thirteen when he plopped them at the foot of his chair.

 You got Kendo to shout out the rules for the invading group: “First off, our snacks are off limits. Second, you don’t play our volleyball game, and if you say anything about it, it had better be only positive encouragement. Get in the pool, sure, but stay away from us.” That was a nice touch of hers, since the pseudo-volleyball court took up most of the pool; the guys would have to be scrunched up together near the far edges.

 During the volleyball game, outside of your vain attempt to channel Oikawa Tooru, you did a quick headcount: you’ve accidentally involved around 25 people in your plans to make out with Monoma later. It struck you that with all of the people out here, it might genuinely be less of a risk to just kiss him in the common area of one of the dorms at this point.

 “Oof, ouch, my bones,” you said to Mina, “My arms are starting to ache. Put me out, coach. I’m gonna go sit for a few minutes.”

 Mina sent a playful splash your way. “That’s fine! Try to enjoy your break the best you can—though you might wanna move your stuff! It looks like Monoma’s camping out next to you.”

 You could make her laugh harder if you let her know he’s your soulmate. “I was there first. I’ll make him want to leave.”

 She waved you off, and you climbed out of the pool, water sloshing down your body to the concrete as you approached your pool chair.

 Monoma—what a cute moron—had adjusted his chair so that he could lounge back while he read, and he was wearing sunglasses despite the sun having gone down long ago. As you wrapped your towel around yourself, he shut his book and rested it on his raised knee.

 “You gonna get me some sour gummies?”

 “Get them yourself,” you said, squeezing water out of your hair, “I’m exhausted.”

 His lower lip jutted out. “Kendo said boys have to starve themselves.”

 You laughed through your nose. “If the other guys hadn’t had the same idea to show up, you could have probably weaselled away the whole bag by now.”

 “With the other guys here—” Monoma made a noise as if to spit in their direction. “—I don’t like the way Kaminari looks at you.”

 You actually laughed this time. “Kaminari looks at everyone that way.”

 “Yes, but,” he said, scratching his cheek, “you’re the only one that matters.”

 You narrowed your eyes. How sweet. “You can’t mean that it doesn’t matter if he pervs on someone, so long as it’s not me—”

 “God, fuck—you know what I mean,” he said with a loose wave, “I was trying to be romantic and gallant, but if you’d rather talk potentially problematic subtext that I didn’t even mean—”

 “I don’t; I’m so fucking tired.” You brought your knees to your chest, your toes dangling off the edge of your seat. You brought your towel over your head so that it was more like a hood you could hide under. “There are way too many people.”

 Setting his book aside, Monoma sat fully upright and crossed his legs. “You need to get out of here?”

 “I can’t,” you said, groaning, “I’m in charge. It would be mean of me to slack off and make someone else clean everything up.”

 He shot a look towards the pool and back at you. “Why don’t you take a nap until it’s over, then? Here, take my towel. Use it as a blanket—” He tossed it to you. “—and I’ll make the excuses. Say you badgered me for it and that I’m not leaving without all my stuff. And then I can help you pack it all up once everyone’s leaving.”

 Unfolding his towel in your lap, you blinked blearily at him. “You won’t mind that we won’t get to…?”

 “Nah. I’ll be fine. Another time.”

 “Okay,” you said, curling up on your side away from the crowd and tucking both towels around yourself, “Thank you.”

 You heard him hum as he flicked a page of his book.

 When Monoma shook you awake, you rubbed sleep out of your eyes to reveal a silent, empty pool, the volleyball net already rolled up beside the water and the snack area already ferreted away.

 You covered your yawn but spoke through it. “What—who cleaned—”

 “Kirishima helped me take down the net, and he and Mina took care of the food—except for a bag of sour gummies I have successfully commandeered,” he said, “But you have the key to the room where the net goes, so they’ve all left once everything else was done. And lucky you—you missed when Ashido took the video to record the event on the third years’ twitter account, so you didn’t have to be humiliated for posterity.”

 Well, it appeared they volunteered to help and being caught on camera wasn’t always fun (especially with Mina’s unreliable camerawork), so you elected not to feel guilty. “You didn’t wake me up sooner?”

 Monoma raised a brow. “If you’re passed out on a poor chair during a fucking loud get-together, you need the sleep.”

 “Fair enough,” you said, sitting up and reaching for your bag.

 “Oh?” Monoma was saying as you wadded up both towels and shoved them inside. “You don’t plan on getting wet again?”

 “Not when I’m already dry—oh. I see.” Stifling another yawn, you pushed on your knees to stand. “Sure. Not as intense as we planned, please, since I may collapse any second. But I guess I could get caught in the pool after hours by my school bully; I don’t know.”

 Monoma yanked you back down to kiss you on the cheek before releasing your arm. “Brilliant. Go get in the pool.”

 It’s probably be hotter if there’s a layer of he-can-touch-the-bottom-of-the-pool-but-you-can’t, so you climbed in towards the deep end and swam towards the middle. From your spot where your clung to the edge, you cheered when he took off his shirt, and he still rolled his eyes and shook his head.

 “Hot boy! There’s a hot boy on the loose,” you said as he got closer and sat down on the ledge next to you, dipping his feet in the water, “Hot boy!”

 “You’re insane,” he said through a soft smile, and he tried to ruffle your hair, but you dodged it by ducking underneath the water

 “But that’s part of my charm,” you said once you’d surfaced.

 It was a good thing you were already in the pool, since your throat was already going dry at the sight of his stupid lean but toned chest, certain lines in muscle defined but not all of them (he’d told you he deliberately didn’t want to get super ripped like Bakugou or Kirishima, because a lot of his strategy in battle relies on agility and flexibility—and if he’s got less bulk to throw around, then it’s easier for him to recover when an opponent’s caught him off guard—something about the same thing male gymnasts did, from his perspective). Still, that just meant that he was a different kind of physically fit, and the category you’d decided he fit into was pretty.

 “You ready?”

 His voice broke your attention away from the cute little rolls on his stomach when he hunched over. “Yes.” You kicked off the side of the pool underwater, propelling yourself more towards the centre.

 Treading water, you tilted your head up towards the night sky and listened for movement in the water, but all you could hear was the tinny buzz of the overhead lights, occasionally interrupted in their drone when bugs flew into them.

 Two fingers grazed your spine before you knew it. “Wha—Neito,” you said, spinning around in the water and frantically searching for an escape route before he could crowd you, “What are you doing out this late?”

 “I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his voice taking on that icy, patronising tone, “It could be trouble if someone knew you were out after curfew, sweetheart, and I know you’re depending on Aizawa’s recommendation to get into that agency soon. So, let’s not make a scene while we’re here. We wouldn’t want anyone else to find you. You’re lucky it’s only me, who won’t share his playthings.” Monoma kept his face close to the water and swam to your side, getting behind you before you could even register movement.

 “You don’t—you don’t have to do this,” you said in what was hopefully a choked-up sounding way, your breath hitching as his hands drifted down your sides to grip your hips from behind, “We could just—we could both just walk away! Say we didn’t see—”

 “No.” He tapped his fingers on your hipbones while his thumbs dug into the small of your back again. “Why would I sacrifice a chance to—stop squirming—to discipline you for how you behaved—”

 Once you kicked out of his grasp and began to swim towards the shallow end, you figured he’d manhandle you back into his arms, but Monoma remained in his place and called your name with enough wrath to froth over.

 He spoke with a controlled, quiet fury. “Where do you think you’re going?”

 You hesitated just before the pool steps.

 “Turn around.”

 Looking over your shoulder, you met his scowl before turning fully.

 “Either you come back here on your own, or I make you.”

 Ohhohoho, hot. You took more time than you normally would have in returning to him, and you took his hand when he extended it to you, your own shaking.

 “So, she can be good when she wants to,” Monoma said under his breath, “Not that she’s been good at all today.” Dragging you closer to him, he gripped the back of your neck to make you look into his eyes. “You’re a fucking tease, you know that?”

 You sniffed and glanced away for effect. “I—I don’t know what—”

 “I—I don’t know,” he mocked, and he moved his hand to squeeze your cheeks, your chin in his palm, “Do you know how much those other guys were looking at you? No? Answer the fucking question, sweetheart.”

 While you struggled to shake your head, Monoma squeezed again, his thumb and middle finger forcing space between your upper and lower teeth.

 “Care to explain why you chose to wear such a tiny little swimsuit—”

 (It’s really not. It’s a two-piece that completely covers you, including your stomach, and even has a little skirt, but you can guess where he’s going with this.)

 “—that could be tragically lost at any time?” And yes, he’s going for the first tie at the back of your neck, and he tugged it loose, flipping the strands to the front so that the fabric fell enough for the top of your boobs to show. “You’d think that you want any sadistic voyeur imagining how you’d look out of your swimsuit to touch you—”

 “But—”

 “Hold still for me.” He reached for the second tie. “We wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, hm? Because,” Monoma said, yanking your top off and chucking it off to the side, where it struck the concrete with a wet plop, “we can’t have…have you…”

 You caught a visible moment of genuine affection sweep across his face as you squished your boobs against his chest, hugging him tightly while checking the surroundings again in case someone else saw your nipples—even him, considering this is going to be his first time seeing them bare.

 He guided your chin up to face him, his lips so close you could feel their heat. “Well, aren’t you suddenly such a good girl?”

 And that got heat spreading across your face and ears; you made feeble efforts to jerk your chin away, but he held it steady.

 “You’re taking it so easily, even clinging to me. Bit suspicious, yeah?”

 “No,” you said, finally ducking your head, “I don’t want anyone else to see me, and I’m nervous, anyway.”

 As he guided you backwards towards a corner of the pool, his eyes lit the fuck up. “Anyone else? Is my prideful little baby admitting that it’s okay if she gets manhandled and shoved around and spat at, so long as it’s my hands doing it? You don’t want to be passed around like a common whore?”

 As he situated the two of you in the corner, he took a glance towards the doorway and adjusted himself so that he’d block the view of whoever may walk in. Monoma waited until you’d mumbled out no as an answer.

 “It’s only me? How embarrassing.” His grin stretched widely across his face, his teeth cutting into his lower lip. “You only have to focus on me, babe, because if anyone tried to take you from me, he’d see that mark, my name already branding you until the end of time. Hey,” he said, relaxing his grip on you a bit, “let me see?”

 You dropped your arms, backing into the corner as far as you could go, and his eyes fell half-lidded and down to your boobs.

 The fucker sighed dreamily.

 When he raised a tentative hand to rub his thumb over the soulmark, he fucking sighed again.

 Since your nipples had the time to harden due to the cool of the night, instead of, like, his touch, you asked, out of character, “Are you gonna do anything about it, screwboy?”

 “You don’t know what you do to me,” said Monoma, shaking his head, and he got back into it. “But they won’t even have to see the soulmark to know you’re mine; when I’m through with you, you’ll be so marked up with hickies and bruises—maybe a slap mark or two—that they’ll know you’re not theirs to touch.” He cupped one of your boobs and gently pinched the nipple of the other, rolling it between his fingers, and he took a moment to kiss you—open-mouthed and insistent, a soft sort of greediness as he took your lower lip into his mouth, and he couldn’t hold back his fully fledged ­­moan when you raised your leg to keep his hips pressed to yours to grind against him underwater.

 “I dare you to tell me to stop.” Monoma kissed down your throat, being wet on purpose, and he got all the way down to just above your nipple before he stared up at you with that idiotic grin. “Ooh, she can’t, can she?” He let out a laugh, the heat suffusing over your boob. “It’s okay, baby. I know you can’t help it.”

 Monoma took your nipple into his mouth and sucked, and you scrunched your eyes shut, squirming away on impulse as you pushed on his head—but you made yourself still, and you opened your eyes.

 “That’s right, pretty—just look at me.” He made a show of licking all around your nipple before flicking it with the tip of his tongue. “You give me that much, and I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll give you everything.”

 ***

 You were walking back to the dorms from a local corner shop, and Monoma was trying to have phone sex with you.

 You weren’t feeling particularly sexy, bundled up in a heavy winter coat and his houndstooth scarf with your nose running from the cold, but he didn’t need to know that. He wouldn’t, so long as he didn’t hear the rustling of the shop bags.

 “Wish you’d video call,” he said, panting, “You could see me, then—see me stroke myself to your voice.”

 “When you start the call with a demand to ‘put the girls on,’ you lose all rights and privileges.” You had to be vaguer and quieter now that you were on campus. “Tell me more about what’s happening on your side. You close?”

 “God, yes, I miss you. I need you. I swear you could slap my face right now, and I’d come all over my chest.”

 You started up the path to the dorms, quietly knocking on the mailboxes for luck. “Not on me? You’re so considerate.”

 “Tell me—tell me what you’d do to me, if—ah, fuck—if you were here.”

 “I don’t think you deserve that, Neito,” you said, trotting up the steps to 3-B’s dorm and peeking in the windows to gauge crowd control, “Well, I’ll allow you this: I wouldn’t do or say a damn thing. I’d stare you down while you mindlessly babble about what you want me to do until you get frustrated enough to take it into your own hands.” Doesn’t look like anyone’s hanging out in the commons, so you opened the front door.

 “You’d hah, have the nerve to treat me like that? You really thi—think I’d let you? Oh, sweet girl, you precious little thing, it’s a miracle you’re walkin’ around with that sort of confidence, when I co—could rip you apart at any moment.” He’s getting careless, letting the wet schlick grow louder over the phone. Must be embarrassing to share a wall with him. “I don’t always play this nicely.”

 Kendo waved to you from the kitchen, but you just smiled and pressed a finger over your lips, nodding towards your phone. She gestured towards her cooking, holding out a spoonful of soup, since your hands were full.

 You let her guide it to your mouth, and you took the opportunity to moan once you tasted it. You heard him inhale sharply over the phone.

 You gave Kendo a thumbs-up, and she smiled, leaving you to choose whether to take the lift or the stairs. With the stairs, you risk the sound of your footsteps echoing, but with the lift, you risk the ding when the doors open.

 “Fuck, fuck, sweetheart,” Monoma was saying as you shifted all your bags to one arm to start walking up the stairs, “You make another sound, and you won’t be able to sit down for days when I see you again. I’m gon—gonna fuck you the way you need, and you, you need to feel my cock spread you open, hm? It’ll be so good; you’re so good to me.”

 He’s on the third floor, right? Room…what, 302? You supposed you could just follow the sounds of Some Guy Jerkin’ Off, but that leaves a lot to be desired.

 “I’m—I know I’d fit you so well,” Monoma said with a grunt, the bed creaking in the background, “Someday, I’m gonna—”

 “Yeah, some day you’ll get that done, Neito,” you said, scanning the room numbers on the doors, “Until then, you’re just some bitch-ass virgin.”

 And that’s what pushed him over the edge. Grinning, you held the phone away from your ear, listening in the hallway for the same whiny, throaty moans (boys should moan all the time, you’ve decided. It’s just too darn pretty of a sound).

 You waited outside his room until he finished, and you pressed the phone to your ear again.

 “Baby, I love you; God, fuck, I’m so lucky to have you as my soulmate,” he was babbling mindlessly, just like you’d said he would, “You’re so, so good, and kind, and—”

 You knocked on his door.

 “Shit—” You heard fumbling both over the phone and through the door. “I’m so, so sorry, but I must’ve been too loud; someone’s at my door. I’ve got to go. God, where are my pants—”

 Hanging up first, you bounced on the balls of your feet and listened to the clatter going on in his room, and eventually, he, wearing mismatched clothes, swung open the door.

 After a beat, Monoma frowned and crossed his arms. “I suppose you think you’re awfully clever.”

 “I know I am,” you said, striding past him and setting your shopping bags on his desk, “and you were right: your scarf really does make it feel like you’re cosied up in a sleeping bag.” You took it off and laid it over the back of his desk chair. “Thanks.”

 Grimacing, Monoma was already back on his bed and opening his laptop. “Well, now that you’re here, you can’t leave until you tell me what you think of my next chapter.”

 “You finished it? That’s really fucking neat-o, Neito,” you said, adding the English word to piss him off. “Let me read.”

 While you read the word document on his laptop, Monoma riffled through the shopping bags (crinkling a lot, you might add) for the pack of Kororo white peach gummies, and then he curled around you on the bed to peel it open.

 “You’re weirdly quiet,” you said once you got towards the end, “Did I hurt your—you know I don’t really think virgin is an insult, right?”

 He gave a dismissive wave. “Not offended by something I am. You’ve got to realise I just had an orgasm, so I have good reason to be all languid.”

 You shut the laptop and set it on his bedside table. “Do you think—if our friends knew we were soulmates—if they knew we haven’t had sex yet, they’d be weirded out? I mean, at least in 3-A’s dorm, the school is actively providing condoms and other birth control, since the admin’s realised it’s inevitable people are gonna fuck now that they have a life partner.”

 “Well, our classmates don’t know we’re soulmates, and they won’t ever know, so I don’t see a problem.” Monoma held out his arms and made grabby hands, so you lay down for him to hold you. “And I personally am enjoying the delayed gratification of the chase.”

 “Me, too.” You ran your fingers through his hair (very soft from his bougie shampoo and conditioner), and he leaned into your touch. “The only person who saw me on the way up was Kendo.”

 “Oh, God, did she hear you talking to me?”

 “She did not hear me talking to you.”

 He narrowed his eyes. “I feel like you’re leaving out crucial information.”

 “Perhaps,” you said, “To the best of my knowledge, they’re buying my excuse that I like the view from 3-B’s rooftop better than mine, so I don’t think they suspect I’m seeing you.”

 “Good. Very good.”

 “If anything,” you said, lowering your hand to stroke his cheekbone, “they might think you’re leaving me alone in comparison to the rest of my classmates. You never even copy my quirk during training.”

 His eyelashes fluttered against his skin when he closed his eyes slowly. “Why would I? It’s yours. I’m not gonna take it from you.”

 “But you wouldn’t take it from me; I’d still have it—”

 “I respect you too much to try to use it. I don’t want to learn how to use it, because that would mean I wouldn’t need you by my side in a fight.” He pulled you closer, his body heat seeping through your clothes. “You don’t need me to share it with you. It’s yours.”

 At your silence, he rolled his eyes and clicked his stupid tongue. “I don’t really have a quirk that’s truly mine, and I think that extends to my lot in life. My power depends on those around me, so if I’m alone—well. I’m useless. Which is another fucked-up reason why I like the soulmate mark so much, since—” He sucked in through his teeth. “—since I’ve never had anything of my own.”

 You held your breath, and then you opened your mouth without a plan—

 Monoma laughed—another marble in your pocket. “And before you can say anything about how you can’t own anyone and how I shouldn’t talk to anyone like that, I was trying to be poetic.”

 “I wasn’t gonna say that, Neito,” you said, sitting up a bit so that you could cup his face with both hands, “Do you really think that little of yourself?”

 He flipped his hair out of his eyes for dramatic effect, unsuccessfully. “Isn’t it cool and fun and sexy of me to need therapy?”

 “Only if you actually go to it,” you said, “You don’t need to feel insecure, baby, because you’re everything I could want—even though your value doesn’t depend on my opinion of you. Let me backtrack. That wasn’t the best reason.” You lay facing the ceiling with your arms behind your head, shifting a bit so that he could get another peach gummy, and once he’d popped one in his mouth, he held another up to your lips, which you accepted.

 “You’re taking a concerning amount of time to think of my positive traits.”

 “It’s not that,” you said, chewing on one side of your mouth, “I’m trying to think of how to say it. I’m not as good with words as you are. Okay, listen. First off, you don’t have to do anything to be worthwhile. You’re worthwhile just existing. You’re good already. You don’t have to do anything more. You’re—fuck, I’m not good at this.” You cringed, scrunching your face up—but Monoma was quiet and didn’t interrupt. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something better later, but right now, I can’t think of anything that tells me how good of a man you are is that I wanna be around you more than anyone else. Hell, I’d rather be around you than be by myself, and I love spending time by myself. You—”

 You frantically glanced to see if he were handling this well, and the idiot was lying there with a peach gummy halfway out of his mouth, puckering his lips as if to offer it to you.

 You leaned forward to take it, but before you did, you said, “And I can’t get over how much Eri likes you, too, and that Aizawa-sensei trusts you to take care of her when he’s off campus. That kid is cautious around everybody, and she’s relaxed around you.” Feeling a bit foolish, you kissed him lightly in the process of taking the peach gummy from him.

 Monoma stared at you, blinking profusely, like he was going to cry, while you chewed and swallowed.

 “Are you okay?”

 “I think you do know what to say. You’re good. Thank you. I’ll work on things, I guess. I can try.” He stuck out his lower lip. “But I can’t betray my otherwise superior exterior towards 3-A—”

 “Oh, yeah? They’ll realise you’re a big ol’ softie if I tell them we’re soulmates.”

 “Hey,” Monoma said, frowning, and after a moment, he tilted his head, his hair splaying across his pillow. “I have a proposal—”

 “Again?”

 “The most romantic one I can fathom,” he said, taking your hands and fiddling with your fingers, “Do you wanna watch Lord of the Rings? Extended edition?”

 ***

 Out in the courtyard, the leaves were changing with the seasons.

 “Hey,” said Jirou, scrolling through her phone, “It looks like Tainted Love might get parole.”

 Yaoyorozu lifted her head from Jirou’s shoulder. “So soon?”

 “She already got moved to a lower-security prison two months ago,” said Uraraka, reaching across the picnic blanket to the plate of matcha mochi, “So they’ve already decided that she’s not much of a threat.”

 “You’re joking,” came Shinsou’s voice from your left, dropping his backpack next to you on the blanket, with Todoroki, Kaminari, and Monoma in tow. “After what she did to us? Some of us are fucking dying because of the eroding lifespan side effect.” Shinsou sat cross-legged next to you and propped up his backpack for you to lean on for back support, and the other guys integrated themselves with the rest of the picnicking group—stragglers from 3-A and 3-B after school ended for the day, a sort of tea-party-picnic mostly arranged by Yaoyorozu before exams next week.

 Daring to shoot you an apologetic look, Monoma sat at a distance from you, slightly subdued as he crouched next to Kendo and Shoda.

 “Yeah, my chest hurts at odd intervals,” said Kaminari, holding a hand over his heart, “I think I need to find my soulmate and get laid immediately.”

 “Soulmates aren’t all about sex,” said Shinsou with a scowl.

 Kaminari shrugged. “They could be.”

 “But Tainted Love is getting parole?” You held your teacup between your palms, letting the heat of your raspberry tea keep them warm. “What’s the source?”

 “Uh, looks like Midnight-sensei and Present Mic-sensei were in a press conference this morning about the group that she’s a part of,” said Jirou, “Midnight-sensei’s been working with the authorities on getting information out of Tainted Love, since their quirks are both reliant on inhalants—and Tainted Love seems to like her.”

 “I need to talk to Tainted Love,” said Kaminari between bites of some sort of biscuit that Bakugou had apparently baked last night, “I wanna ask if there’s any way that she could, like, speed up the soulmate identification process. I can’t find mine for the life of me.”

 Jirou shared a look with Yaoyorozu, and she said, “That’s because no one would claim you, even if you had a few more brain cells.”

 “You misunderstand me, Jirou! Being a himbo is the basis of my appeal!” Kaminari slapped the back of his hand to his forehead and screwed up his face. “If I got any smarter, then no one would want me for me, because I wouldn’t be true to myself. Big sigh,” he said, actually saying the words, “Maybe those of us who are unclaimed should just hook up and rotate around until we feel right.” Kaminari’s voice carried across the picnic area (his dramatics made Kendo snort).

 Shinsou flicked Kaminari’s forehead. “When you stop being a pig, maybe someone’ll want you. To be loved, you first have to be lovable.”

 “You know, I don’t think that’s quite true.”

 Everyone’s heads turned towards Monoma, looking oddly constipated and halfway into a scone, which was crumbling to dust in his tense grip. “I don’t think you have to do anything to be loved. I think—” He seemed to notice that he was destroying his scone, and he set it on his paper plate. “—I think that you’re worth loving just because you are.”

 Brow furrowed, Shinsou glanced between you and Monoma. “Dude,” he called towards him, “Are you okay?”

 “Sorry, Monoma. I love you, man, but you’re not my type,” said Kaminari, popping the collar on his blazer, “even though we’re both unclaimed so far. You know who else is unclaimed?” You watched in horror as Kaminari actually and literally rolled over from his spot on the picnic blanket closer to you. “Hi,” he said, staring up at you, “I believe you’re also dying due to heartache?”

 Shinsou tensed next to you—and you didn’t even look at Monoma; you knew he wouldn’t want you to give anything away.

 “Uh.” You glanced around for help from anyone, but everyone was also weirdly frozen and put out by this. “I mean, I am. That’s true, I guess, since I don’t have a soulmate. But—”

 “Would you like not to be?” Kaminari folded his arms behind his head to grin up at you.

 But a tight-fisted Monoma had already stood up and walked stiffly over to where you were on the blanket, and he knelt next to you, nudging Kaminari away with his knee. He started to unbuckle his belt.

 At the clink of his buckle and soft zip of his uniform pants, the stillness overtaking everyone shattered: essentially, a collective flinch passed over the onlookers, with more than a few choice swears coming from Jirou, and Kaminari scrambled away.

 “My dude, what the fuckingeth—”

 Monoma—you slapped your hand over your eyes, already embarrassed—pulled down his pants enough that everyone could see your name along his v-line. “She and I are soulmates,” said Monoma, looking calmly as he could at Kaminari, “Hope that clears things up.”

 His jaw slack, Kaminari glanced at the soulmark, at Monoma’s unwavering expression, and back at the soulmark. “You have your soulmark right on your cum gutters? You’re so lucky.”

 Yaoyorozu had to clutch her stomach she was laughing so hard; Shinsou pinched the bridge of his nose. Jirou could hardly talk for laughing, composing herself enough to stutter out, “You—you call them cum gutters?”

 “Like I would know that real term.”

 It was nice, since the shock and attention shifted to roasting Kaminari alive. But now Monoma was sitting next to you, staring nervously into the teacup you handed him, and when you gently bumped his shoulder, all he did was take a sip, his hand shaking so that the porcelain clattered when he returned the cup to the saucer.

 “That was very brave of you,” you said softly, “Thank you for doing it.”

 He hummed, still looking into his teacup.

 “I guess I should congratulate you,” said Shinsou, shifting his attention away from the Does-Kaminari-Even-Know-About-Anatomy-What-About-the-Clitoris conversation, “So, congratulations.”

 You squinted at him. “You don’t sound surprised.”

 “You were right about 3-B’s dormitory having a better view from the roof,” said Shinsou, jerking his head to the side, “but I never saw you there. I think you’ve shocked everyone else, though. Check out Midoriya over there.”

 He was frantically glancing between you and Monoma, steam almost visibly blasting out of his ears as he tried to process it.

 Monoma huffed, and he finally allowed himself the beginnings of a smug grin. “Well, of course it’d be surprising for such a power couple to come out of the soulmate incident. It’s too perfect.”

 And when Mina started filming the picnic to post on the third years’ twitter, he made a point of kissing you in front of everyone, as proof recorded until the end of time.

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz

[liightsnow]

Steve used to think that he had tricked everyone into thinking he was cool. Before he was popular no one gave him a second glance. Then one day it was like everything switched. Maybe it was because he styled his hair differently, or because he wore the right coloured shirt, or because his shoes fit just right, or because he gave Tommy the right hand shake. But he never figured it out. Suddenly new people wanted to hang out with him. And these people would always say things he didn't quite get. But people laughed at it so he just copied them. Or they would point at some kid in the hallway. He would turn his head and not be able to see what was funny or wrong or weird about the kid, he was wearing a blue sweater and brown straight leg trousers, what was funny-wrong-weird about that? But he just copied them, cause he wasn't meant to be here, he's pulled some kind of trick or heist and now he's on a planet where no one is talking the same language but if he outs himself he'll be shunned. Even when he's just with Carol and Tommy it's hard. They get angry at him cause he "pulled a face" but he didn't even feel it, he didn't mean to. And he doesn't understand how people can talk and listen and communicate all day without snapping at everyone. Sometimes when it gets to 5th period he can't bring himself to open his mouth, it's like his lips are super glued together and if Tommy finds him like this, Jesus, he's done for. So he sneaks to the toilets and hides until everyone has left for home. That's actually how he got his womaniser reputation. After he does it a couple times people start to notice his disappearances. When the guys ask him, he has no idea what to say, so he echos something he's heard Tommy say. "Sometimes I like spending my time with company prettier than you." He didn't know what Tommy meant when he said it, and he still didn't when it came out his own mouth. But then word gets around and suddenly he's The King Steve who's had sex with most of the girls in the school. And that makes him feel like even more of a scam cause, where the fuck did that come from?? Tommy makes it worse, never letting Steve forget. And the worst part of it is that he can't hide in the toilets anymore cause it'll just feed the fire. It spirals until Steve can hardly stand hanging out with them anymore cause it feels like they're all speaking in riddles. He isolates himself so he doesn't have to hear it. And then one summer he gets a job and meets a girl called Robin who always speaks her mind and is bad at metaphors, but that alright cause Steve never really got them and Oh My God is this how easy it is to talk to someone when you know what they're saying??? Is this how it is for everyone else all the time?? Cause he can hear Robin, and understand what she's saying, in plain English, not this alien language he's been suffering through for the last few years. Of course he sticks to her like gum cause they can actually talk to each other. (I say all this to say Steve has the 'tism and high school is hard)

Steve just unknowingly masking so he'd fit in. Getting so tired and absolutely draining his social battery without realizing. It just makes sense ya know?

He doesn't remember the exact day everyone started to treat him as a king, but he knows it had to do with being with Tommy. Copying Tommy and his actions, just hoping to make him happy.

Half the time the jocks talk, Steve's completely confused. It's like everything has a secret second meaning that Steve just doesn't know.

He'd always see Tommy and the others making fun of people for doing things that Steve did. Stuttering, Moving a lot, fidgeting at all. Things that Tommy had told Steve to stop doing over the summer.

He had everyone tricked that he was normal.

[hotwings0203]

Idk what this is but the thought of you being scared of Bakugos quirk is so hot to me

Tw:noncon, predatory behavior

“I swear he’s getting to be more and more like a villain every time I see him,” you giggle with Mina as you two walk out of the class. Bakugo had yet again exploded at one of your shared teachers for correcting him in his pronunciation of a word, and as usual it was quite a scene to behold. Chairs were almost thrown, his friends had to hold him back from leaping up while others egged him on, itching for amusement in their mind-numbingly dull class.

“Maybe Shigaraki was right,” your pink-haired friend snorts and you both collapse in wheezes, clawing and slapping at each other’s shoulders as the ludicrous image of Shigaraki being unable to reign in Bakugo comes to mind.

“Hey ladies, what’re you two laughing about?” A lilting and charming voice comes right at your ear, and you turn to see Denki, Kirishima and…Bakugo walking next to you.

Just because of his proximity and how you were literally just talking about him two seconds ago, you jump away from Bakugo’s glowering face and not so subtly hide behind Mina in a half playful jest.

“Huh? Whatcha ya jumpin’ around for?” Kirishima laughs and you exchange an embarrassed look with Mina.

“Oh nothing, we were just talking about how Bakugo’s quirk is totally villainous. We’re lucky he’s on our side,” Mina singsongs, but you slap her arm in alarm.

And well placed alarm at that, because Bakugo’s scowl deepens as he turns his head to you in a death-glare. You swallow hard seeing his expression and try to nervously laugh.

“But, uh, we were just joking. Right Mina?” You give her a pointed look and she deflects it happily.

“Nope! At least you weren’t, you’re half scared to death of him, isn’t that right Y/N?”

Denki interrupts before you can sputter in horror.

“Honestly, who isn’t scared of this dude?” He claps the other blond on his back and yelps when Bakugo’s hands start curling with smoke.

“Watch it dumbass.” He cranes his head to meet your eyes, but when he finds that you’re still avoiding eye contact with him he starts moving around his friends to better talk to you.

“My quirk isn’t that scary you idiot. It’s not like I care enough about any of you to blow you up-“

But with the smoke still curling form his hands and with the permanently intimidating scowl on his face reading closer and close to your, you can’t help but squeal and scrabble around him to sink your nails into Kirishima’s shoulders for protection.

“Okay, I get it! You don’t have to come any closer, I can see fine from here.” Your voice comes out too high and strained to be deemed as joking, but nonetheless everyone laughs at your dramatic show.

Everyone but Katsuki. Because he can see you’re actually scared, he’s seen it a hundred times on civilians who try to pretend they’re fine but still have that panicked glint in their eye.

“Jesus Y/N, with a reaction like that maybe he really is a villain. Bakubro, want us to send you back to Shigaraki’s place? Maybe you should reconsider his offer.”

And finally at Denki’s quip everyone including you this time laughs again in playful agreement, but yet again Bakugo’s blood starts simmering further.

Why the fuck were you being so obnoxious? He didn’t do anything to you before, right? So why the hell were you embarrassing him in front of all his friends and making him out to be this bloodthirsty monster?

Well, whatever. If a monster is what you want, then a monster is what you’ll get.

And so he waits for you after school, trailing behind you a couple hundred feet yet still keeping you in sight. He curses when you giggle with your friends, no doubt in his mind that you’re still throwing dirt on his name and he swears under his breath when you talk to Deku and his dweeb friends.

Of course when you hang around ditzy dorks like Deku he’s gonna look like a psycho in comparison.

But at one point you’re by the vending machine alone in a deserted hallway, fumbling with your coins and trying to quickly get a soda before your friends up ahead leave.

Too bad for you, because when he’s done with you they’ll never want to be seen with you again for their own safety.

You’re shoving money in the slot when he silently walks up a couple feet behind you.

“No friends around to gossip about me?”

You shriek and jump a good foot in the air at the sudden voice behind you. Clutching your heaving chest, you whirl around to see who it is.

Your blood runs cold. It’s Katsuki Bakugo, the absolute last person you want to be alone with in a deserted hallway.

Your feet move a step back.

Wrong move.

His nostrils flare and his eyes widen at your insulting retreat. You know he doesn’t take kindly to it, but with an expression like that how could you not?

“Uh, w-what do you mean?” You chuckle nervously.

He doesn’t laugh. In fact, he does something worse.

He matches your steps and moves forward a little bit.

At this you fully take a stride backwards and clash with the vending machine behind you.

He keeps advancing, slowly getting closer and checking you out, his head tilted as his eyes roam up and down your vulnerable body.

“Don’t move back. Why the fuck did you move away from me? That’s rude, we were just having a normal conversation.”

You surprise yourself by sounding level-headed in retaliation. “‘Kinda hard not to be a little uncomfortable when your conversation sounds so accusing.”

He lunges forward and you actually scream this time, throwing your hands up above your head in instinct to protect yourself from his proximity.

Bakugo doesn’t touch you but you can still feel his breath puffing on your head, can still feel the heat from his hands on either side of your body.

“You got a smart mouth don’t you? Is that why you embarrassed me earlier in front of everyone?”

“Embarrassed you-?” You squeak but immediately cut off when he thrusts his face right in front of yours, a manic look on his face as all his facial features stretch into a irate leer.

“I guess we’ll have to fix that tongue of yours. Put it to better use than to talk shit about me, right?”

Vermilion irises move from your face down your body, lingering on your chest and at the apex in between your legs.

Bile rises to your throat as he licks his lips and lets his lips ghost over yours, oh so close yet not touching.

And in the second before he descends, you shove him off with nothing but pure adrenaline feeling your fear and race past him, blindly running down the halls as fast as you can.

Surprisingly, you don’t hear anyone behind you. That doesn’t mean you don’t stop running though.

The real reason you don’t hear anyone behind you is because Katsuki Bakugo has an eerie smile on his face at your bolt. He languidly stretches his arms above his head and relishes in the popping of his joints, and in succession the popping of sparks in his hand. He kicks one leg out, then the other just to ensure you get a fair head start.

You’ve just made this so much more interesting.

He sets off at a light jog, and even in his carefree pace his strides are enough to eventually catch up with you, instinct like an animal’s guiding him through the winding halls and ending up catching a glimpse of your feet as you turn into another lane.

You’re panting, sweat pouring down your eyes as panic makes it hard to breathe or think rationally. The adrenaline that was pushing you is now dying down but at the worst time.

You take a quick glance back and your rapidly beating heart falters as you see him with a grin on his face as he practically jogs leisurely behind you. You’ve seen this same face on him when he’s in the battlefield, blasting through enemy hearts and blowing up heads as if they were fireworks.

He’s bloodthirsty. He wants you.

“Running away again? That’s not very heroic of you babe,” he calls out, and it’s terrifyingly infuriating how he’s not out of breath.

“Leave me the fuck alone,” you half scream and sob, trying to run faster but failing miserably.

You see a bathroom sign out of the corner of your eye and frantically stumble towards it.

Katsuki knows you know he’s even you take a turn and he laughs to himself at how boringly easy this is.

Maybe he was scary.

He shakes it off and continues his hunt after you, coming forth until he faces the bathroom door in which you were cowering behind.

There’s a small window, and no other door. Just a couple of stalls, a terrified girl, and a psycho with the taste of revenge practically palpable on his lustful tongue.

He knock with faux politeness. “You wanna come out and do this the easy way or you want me to barge in and take you myself?”

You sob and wheeze in response, desperately pushing against the flimsy door in a pathetic attempt to keep him out. Bakugo merely crosses his arms and leans against the door, staring intently at it with a smile still on his face.

Judging by the weight pushing more at the bottom of the door, he can tell you’re probably sitting down in an effort to catch your breath.

You both know he can come in at any time he so well pleases, but he decides he’ll play by your rules for a bit longer, indulge you a little before your inevitable downfall.

He hums loudly and slides down to join your parallel position on the floor.

“I’m tryina be nice here, y’know. You acted so scared of me when I never even bothered you before. Aren’t I being nice right now by letting you choose for yourself?”

He sounds so conversational, as if he were talking to one of his buddies. You stay silent but your silence speaks volumes.

It serves as nothing but a means to piss him off further.

The two of you sit in silence for seemingly hours, even though it’s only around 20 minutes. Every second you feel like he’s going to break down the door any second and blast your face off, but miraculously he doesn’t.

You don’t know what you’d rather prefer: for him to prolong your strained agony by letting you be so close yet so far from him, or to end your suffering and get it done with.

But you needn’t sit in silence stewing in your own fear any further, for at the exact moment you begin to doze off with the dying of the light the weight on the other side of the door lifts and you startle awake at the scuffling on the other side.

You blink a couple of times and blanch when you see through the window the purple light indicating that you really have been here longer than you thought.

Bakugo cracks his knuckles and rolls his head, popping a few more kinks in his neck before breathing out and bracing for impact.

“Ready or not little bitch, here I come.”

“Bakugo, wait-!”

But your plea doesn’t last for more than two words. The door bangs open with such a sound that you actually think he’s blasted it straight off his hinges. You gasp and shield yourself, jumping backwards and covering your face.

“‘Thought I made it clear by now that you can’t run. So why’d you try to leave? Huh? Think you’re smarter than me? You think you’re stronger than me?”

He’s stalking forward again, and you’re left tripping back over your feet and whimpering at his salacious intent as he backs you up and corners you into a stall.

He already knows the answers to his rhetorical questions but he wants to hear you say it. He wants to hear that scornful conviction in your voice about how big and bad he was that you used earlier.

With you tripping backwards into the cramped stall, his approach quickens in hunger at feeling you, feeling the fear radiating off your body.

Bakugo presses up against you against the wall and takes up the space around you, invading your personal bubble. He’s everywhere, growling in your ear, hands gripping your waist so tight you’re sure bruises sprout from his touch, his erect penis grinding on the inside of your thigh.

Your trepidation and terror rises to an insurmountable height as he smothers you.

When he suddenly grips your chin and forces your head to face him you gasp. His touch is even more callous than you thought.

“You lookin’ here bitch? Good.”

His palm is raised towards you and before you can even widen your eyes in realization his appendage starts sparking madly. You shriek and try to throw him loose as little bits of embers fly out and made your face, his voice rough as always yet dangerously low and soft.

“S’not so scary after all is it? You’re reacting better to it than I thought.” Bakugo Blanca you mocks your writhing figure as you desperately try to evade the mini explosions.

“Okay, I get it, please stop I don’t like it!” You shrilly cry out but his hand moves from your jaw down to your neck, and squeezes the last remnants of opposition out of you.

“Yeah? Good, I’m glad you get it. But honestly, I don’t care if you don’t like it.

Because I like it. I fucking love this quirk, ‘specially when you cower so prettily under it like you did earlier.”

You choke and try to scrabble at his hands but it’s like a butterfly’s touch to him, barely producing any fruition.

“I kept wondering to myself: why do I care if she’s scared of it? And then I realized,” he leans in and lets his lips brush over your ear, lets his hand lessen ever so slightly so that your main focus is his words.

“You just looked good enough to eat when you know you’re beneath me. When you know how dangerous I am.”

He pulls back and assesses the look on your face. “Makes you look good enough to eat.”

And without further ado he lowers his hand and starts rubbing his alit palm on your clothed pussy, his erection getting harder as your screams wilt into whines.

Your legs flail uselessly as he burns a hole through your pants and his fingers hook aside the band of your panties.

Bakugo thrusts his hips forwards and grinds his straining cock on your moist lips, taking in your blubbers and teary eyes.

You can’t even speak, you can only cry out like a child as he thrusts harder and harder, so hard that your back hits the wall painful and the stall walls rattle behind you.

“You-pant-fucking scared-pant-now slut?” He rasps, his head bobbing on rhythm with yours as he practically lifts you off your toes to match his pace.

Your clit is caught between the fabric and rolled cruelly pleasurable as his tip leaks precum, staining your own panties in the process.

With your attention rapt on his now-uncovered dick sliding in and out of your folds, he takes this opportunity to take his other hand off your neck and blast the wall next to your face.

The second you open your mouth in shock as bits of tile rain down on your face he slams his steaming palm over your lips, burning the soft flesh as you weep openly.

He sets off two more near your sides and another above your head, his own face aligned right in front of yours so you can see the mean smile on his face all the while he sets your heart racing at an alarming speed.

When the smoke clears and you can start feeling glass and tile imprint on your once-smooth face, he positions his dick up so that it prods at your hole and yanks your hair back.

His eyes practically glow with the mini fires preserved in the walls with his blasts, the impact of the air rushing around him makes his hair even spikier, his body is taunt and even more imposing than before.

His teeth gleam with the orange and red light next to you. His chest doesn’t heave, because he’s at ease with your terror.

“You think you know fear?”

With one swift movement he shoves up into you, but this time he doesn’t cover your mouth.

“You haven’t met me truly yet.”

[lebenspurpur]

AN: Helloo, wrote this because I spent today suffering through my post-drunk-vandalism hangover. Guess it's deserved but still, it sucks. After eating chicken broth my dad made, unsalted if I may add, for an hour straight I am now ready to be creative. I really don't know what this is.

Have the link to my Larry playlist while we're at it:

Pairing: Larry Johnson x reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol

Wordcount: 1744 words

🤍🧷💀⛓🔪🏁🕷🤍🧷💀⛓🔪🏁🕷🤍🧷💀⛓🔪🏁🕷🤍🧷💀⛓

Larry looks really, really stupid right now. Stupid and sick.

His tall form slumped over in defeat, big blanket wrapped around him but not too tight, otherwise he'd feel too hot, too feverish, he still needs some air. There are tissues scattered across the couch as well. Fucking hell.

Usually, this would disgust you but it's Larry, you think you've seen worse.

Small sniffles come from where he's laying, whenever he clears his throat hoarse croaking leaves his mouth and he cringes every time he hears it. He can feel your judging gaze on his body, hear your arched eyebrow without even lifting his head.

His radio is blaring some kind of metal music, you don't recognize the band. Technically, the music is useless since the TV in front of Larry's bed is playing an old horror movie, bloody screams only adding to the grimy ambiance in the room.

"I-", you start but Larry lifts his hand before you can even consider continuing.

On any other occasion, you would've noticed the rings adorning his slender fingers, the metal accessories leaving a trail of dark smudge on his hands. Damn, did he have some nice hands.

Thankfully today wasn't a normal occasion. The metalhead in front of you had worse problems than you drooling over his fingers right now, one of them being the sickness he caught.

"Don't you dare say 'I told you so.'", he croaks out while he finally lifts his head, bloodshot eyes meeting yours. He looks immensely tired. You can sense his annoyance at this sickness, this hellish treatment he's in and can't seem to escape.

You take a deep breath in and drop your bag next to his opened front door.

"Alright. I won't."

You close the door quietly and deposit your jacket as well as boots next to it.

His mom always screams at Larry to finally get something for visitor's shoes and bags but he never does. Too busy, too lazy, he figures his visitors get it. Who even visits him, anyway?

The floor is, as usual, covered in stuff he hasn't cleaned yet. Unfinished drawings, sketchbooks, take-out cartons, empty booze bottles, you keep wondering how he manages to create that kind of mess in a timespan of not even two days.

You tiptoe over them, careful as to not to step into something. Earlier experiences have taught you to never mistake one of these seemingly empty cartons as really empty. Just last week you stepped into a fucking pizza the man in front of you didn't finish.

You sigh as you sit down next to him and Larry tiredly raises an eyebrow.

"Dude, I know you don't want to move but Jesus, we really need to get you to bed.", you then state, voice comforting yet firm. You use the moment to stare into his eyes, adore the brown, thick, deepness of them.

Larry groans loudly, voice breaking from how raw his throat is. His head falls back and he closes his eyes, a pained expression on his features.

"Don't wanna.", he grumbles quietly and you involuntarily crack a smile. Larry always managed to do that, even in the most unbelievable moments.

"I'll join you if you do."

One of his eyes slowly creaks open, observing your face to look for any kind of sarcasm or irony. As soon as he doesn't find any, the other eye opens as well and he leans forward again, blanket clutched tightly in his fists.

"Alright."

You grin at his quiet answer, hand reaching over to pull him with you. He obliges, warm, slightly clammy hand tightly grabbing yours. He follows you through the messy room, his blanket leaving a trail of destruction behind the two of you.

You kick open the door leading to his bedroom. Immediately, the familiar images of various album covers greet you. The air in his room is colder and less damp and you hear him take a deep breath.

Turning around, you mention for him to wait while you walk over, grabbing the blanket on his bed. You shake it a bit, readjust the sheets as well the pillow, all while Larry's eyes never leave your back.

"There you go, sweets.", you add as you finish, quickly turning around to see Larry standing the same way you've left him. Tired, slumped, and emotional. The need to hug him starts boiling inside of you but you try and hold yourself back. First, you have to make sure he gets into bed.

Larry slowly stumbles past you. During the last few baby steps, he drops the blanket around his shoulder, faceplanting right into the freshly made sheets. He's not even wearing a shirt and you huff at his stubbornness.

Larry's back looks strong like this, muscles contracting beneath his skin as he tries to get more comfortable. Your eyes glide over his spine, his wide shoulders, the small bumps where his ribs encase his organs. His olive skin is sweaty and long, brown hairs cling to it.

You cringe at that, knowing the feeling all too well.

Softly placing a hand on his back, you move closer, forehead scrunched together.

"Larry, darling."

He grunts into his pillow, a muffled questioning sound.

"I got a hair tie here. Mind lifting your head real quick?"

Larry obliges and lifts his head quickly, taking a deep breath while he does so.

Your fingers find his scalp and start collecting all the strands, securing them afterward with the tie around your wrist.

The man beneath you hums in appreciation as the cold air hits his neck, sweaty skin finally being able to breathe. You kiss the small space beneath his neck real quick, a short sign of comfort before you stand up again, hands leaving his skin.

Larry whines the second you do so, all while quickly turning around, sending you a pleading look.

"You said you'd stay.", the whiny tone only makes his voice sound more hoarse and you can't help the small grin from appearing on your features.

"In a second, sweetie. You need some water and medicine first, alright?"

He whines again but the thought of something fresh and cold going down his throat is enough to soften the pleading look in his eye. You blow him a kiss and then quickly walk into the kitchen, which is right across from the brunette's room.

It's surprisingly clean but what did you expect? Larry never uses his kitchen unless he has to. Which isn't all too often.

Grabbing a water bottle and placing it on the counter, you keep searching for the small broth packets you'd bought exactly for this kind of scenario. You find them in the fridge, the only thing in this room that Larry actually uses.

Chuckling you get some water cooking, all while pouring the powder into one of the giant cups Sal has gifted Larry a while ago. According to the masked man, everything tastes better if it's being eaten out of a cup and so, everyone has their own sets of cups, a premium gift from Sal Fisher.

Soon, everything's done and you maneuver your way back into Larry's room. Said man is awaiting you, eyes still opened as he watches you creep towards his bed, hands full with water, soup, and medicine.

First, you feed him the medicine. Normally he'd do this himself but you know that he'll just ignore the bitter juice unless you force it down his throat. Stubborn motherfucker.

Larry's sitting up now, back propped up against one of the many big pillows he has. You hand him the broth and he inhales it in less than two minutes, apparently, this is the first thing he's eaten today. Shaking your head at the thought, you tug a few strands of hair out of his face, smiling at your lover's appetite.

Finally, after gulping down half of the water bottle, the brunette leans back and smiles, for the first time this evening.

"Thank you.", he croaks out and you touch his arm as an appreciative gesture, "Does that mean you're allowed to join me now?"

You're about to nod as you notice the faint traces of eyeliner on his skin.

"Did you take off your makeup when you got home?", you ask, throwing a teasing smile his way.

Larry clears his throat, embarrassed that you caught him. A faint blush raises on his cheeks and you feel your heart swell at the sight.

"I might have forgotten about it.", he answers, gaze slowly meeting yours again, "But please, let's just do this later, dude. I am so fucking tired."

Huffing, you roll your eyes at his answer but you nod anyway. He'd be fine with the makeup for a few more hours. You just have to remember taking it off tomorrow.

"You're lucky I love you."

Larry grins at that, the usual wide, blinding grin, that makes your stomach tingle with fuzzy feelings inside of it. His fingers find your arm and he tenderly pulls you down to join him. Soon, your head is placed on his chest, and his arms cradle your shoulders, pulling you into his body.

You can hear his relaxed breathing as he finally settles down, nuzzling his face into your hair.

His skin is warm against your cheek and you smile into it. It doesn't matter how often you've done it, laying on his nude chest always makes you flustered.

Larry's fingers start to draw stuff on your back, the feeling more than a delight for you. Humming, you snuggle closer and the metalhead next to you smiles.

His eyes already start to close slowly, lack of sleep finally catching up to him. The quiet sound of the ongoing movie in his living room, as well as the metal music, make for a great background sound and you both listen intently.

You notice the way his heart beats, slow and steady, beneath the tanned skin. Unknowingly, you start to synchronize your breaths with his. In and out. In. And out.

Soon, your eyes close as well. Damn it, you don't want to fall asleep. Though, you suppose it doesn't matter as the man next to you pulls you closer, his breath warm against your ear. He wouldn't let you leave anyway.

The thought makes you feel giddy, excited, in love. Smiling widely, you try to press yourself closer into him, and soon, you too, fall asleep, enveloped by the arms of the boy you love most. Your favorite boy.

[nightowlfandom]

Kanato Sakamaki- I’m Sadistic For You

FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTS DIABOLIK LOVERS CONTENT AAAAHHH THANK YOU BESTIE! I GOT YOUR OTHER ONE AND I’M DOING IT TOO!  

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!

So ANON ASKS

For Kanato from DL ( I haven’t seen much done for him and it makes me sad because he’s a favorite ). (: I could Lowkey do some more if you’re not super bogged down I had another idea BUT I ALREADY SUBMITED ANOTHER BEFORE THIS SO IM NOT GONNA OVERWHELM YOU LOL but- anyway Fee free to be as nsfw with my prompts (if you do them) as you want. I dont have any triggers so- writing them super accurate and sadistic won’t bother me :3

Bruh....Jesus is my helmet...but NOT TODAY let’s fucking go! Okay readers, you heard, they aint got no triggers. So if you do...move it along.

52- “You can’t call me cute!”

80- “Shut up! I’m not blushing!”

31-“You need to be taught a lesson…”

81- “You look so...inviting all tied up.”

84- “What’s the word I’m looking for?....Pet!”

Also in this you and Yui are BFFs because she isn’t some cold hearted bitch (homegirl trips over oxygen, plus I love her lol)

I was legit about to have him spit in your mouth....I’m so shameful...maybe next time.

Leggo!

I’m turning into a Yandere account and I am totally okay with that.

...

“You know living here isn’t that bad.” you mused to Yui. “When no one is talking.”

Your friend laughed as she cut up some carrots. Yui turned to look at you as she prepare to peel some potatoes. “So living here is terrible every day other than right now?” she replied.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. She wasn’t wrong. 

You and Yui were making dinner for the house. After a ambush that landed everyone injured except you and her (thankfully). You had offered to make soup and stew for everyone. They were all in their respective rooms healing while you had prepared everything.

“They really fought hard today, I thought Kanato was about to rip that vampires jaw off. He’s really protective of you, Y/N.” she winked. “I think he likes you more than he lets on.” 

Kanato and you had a very strange relationship. He hated you, but he didn’t HATE you. No one could lay a finger on you, no one could even look at you, even if he said he didn’t care. Reiji tried to and Kanato almost murdered him.

“He then told me that Teddy said I was ugly.” you reminded her flatly. “Yeah he so cares.” you snorted.

“Maybe he has trouble telling you his feelings”

“I wish everyone was as optimistic as you.” you shook your head. “Looks like the soup is finished.” 

“I’m just saying Y/N, just think about it.”

...

You only had one bowl of soup left to deliver, to Kanato’s room. You grumbled as you stood outside the door. 

“Kanato? It’s me.” you knocked on the door. “I’m coming in okay?” 

Before you could wait for an answer you opened the door and walked in with the cart. 

Kanato was laying on his bed when you entered, groaning in what you assumed was boredom.

“Teddy, tell Y/N that I don’t want whatever she made.” Kanato turned away from you. The scars he had suffered on his back said it all. All for you...

Your recalled the terror in your voice as you had screamed for help as the rogue vampire wrapped his claws around your leg. Kanato’s name was the first to escape your lips as you had tried to crawl away to Yui. You remembered reaching out to Kanato with your strongest hand, begging him to save you.

The look in his eyes was feral as he screamed your name too, grabbing you hand and pulling you to him. You were sobbing into his chest, clutching onto him for dear life for a good ten seconds before Yui replaced him, hugging you tightly in her small arms too. Before you knew it, the rogue’s head had been thrown through a window...

...

“Y/N, Look at me! You’re safe now...you’re safe with me...”

...

“Teddy, could you please tell Kanato that while his pouting is very adorable, it won’t get him out of this?”

“Don’t call me cute! You can’t do that.” Kanato glared at you through hooded eyes. “If I wasn’t so weak I’d-”

“Well let me take care of you.” you cut him off, taking the bowl to him. “For me?”

Kanato paused, his glare softening. 

“You must be in love with me if you’re so insistent on me getting better.” he grumbled, sitting up. “Y/N is in love with me Teddy!”

“Kanato.” you felt your face heat up violently. “Don’t say things like that.” you groaned.

“It’s blushing teddy, how cute!”

Kanato’s use of the word ‘it’ wasn’t new to you. In fact when he wasn’t calling you names, chasing you around with forks pretending to stab you, or worse, it was denoting you to objects.

“H-hey! I am not blushing!” you pouted. “My face just looks that way.” you lied. “S-shut up.” you grumbled.

“And what if I don’t feel like it?” he challenged, knowing you wouldn’t say a word back. You were kind of like Yui. You wouldn’t dare challenge any of the Sakamaki brothers. It was a death sentence in every sense of the word.

“Kanato, I just want you to feel better.” you looked down at your feet. 

“There’s one thing you can do.” Kanato used his strength to stand to his feet. Despite his looks, he was tall, and under that cute exterior was a mean and feral beast. He staggered over to you, a sick smile on his face. That couldn’t be good, not by a long shot. 

“And what exactly would that be?” you asked. You couldn’t look at him. You didn’t wanna know what he was planning. You were positive that it wasn’t gonna end well either. 

“Get on your knees.”

“My knees?” you repeated. “Why do you want me to-”

“Now Y/N.” he spoke over you. You felt his hand on your shoulder. “I don’t like repeating myself.” his nails dug into your skin, causing your knees to wobble under the pain. “On. Your. Knees!”

Your feet gave out, practically sending you crashing down to the floor. You looked like a dog, on your hands and knees. You appeared weak and pathetic.

You found it in yourself to look up at Kanato. Teddy was perched on the bed, ‘watching’ you two. You felt his fingertips creep under your chin. 

“Aww...” he smiled. “You’re like a little...What’s the word I’m looking for...PET!. It’s cute.” He caressed the side of your face. “Too bad I kill all my pets...they can’t handle me...can you handle me, Pet?”

“Yes, Kanato.” you found yourself saying. You felt like you didn’t have a choice...

and you loved every second of it.

“Bullying you has made me regain my strength! Isn’t this wonderful?” he wrapped one of his hands around your neck. “You’re so fun to torment” he laughed.

“K-kanato.” you coughed.

“Is it hard to breath. Y/N?” he asked sinisterly, that crazed smile gracing his lips. His words were terrifying although his actions said otherwise. He loosened his grip on your throat, allowing air to flow more freely. It was those small things that made you think he didn’t hate you as much as he loved to preach.

“Y/N...when that vampire came...I thought I was gonna lose you for good this time” he said sadly, allowing his arm to return to his side. “I thought I had-...that you were gonna die.” 

“You saved me though.” you replied. Kanato knelt down to your level, still slightly above you. 

“Yeah...because if anyone is gonna break you, it’s gonna be me.”

“I care about you a lot, Kanato.” you finally said it. “I like you too much.” you exposed yourself. “I want you stay by your side.” you said pathetically. “Even if you hate me.”

Before you could say another word, Kanato claimed your lips in a kiss. He held the sides of your face in his hands. It was the first time he had ever kissed you. He hummed thoughtfully, pushing you down to the floor so you were laying on your back. He crawled over you, not breaking the kiss. 

“K-kanato.” you whimpered.

“You need to be taught a lesson. If your gonna be my girlfri- I mean pet, you’ll have to learn.” he kissed down your neck.

Suddenly, Kanato ripped the seam of your jeans all the way up your left leg, leaving it completely exposed to the air.

“Oh look, your clothes are messed up, guess we’ll have to take them off.” he smirked. In another swift motion, your pants were torn to shreds. The fabric fell in a circle around you both.

“Teddy look! Y/N is wearing such cute panties.” he cackled maniacally. “Her naughty place is leaking.”

You trembled, waiting for him to do whatever it was he was planning.

“I heard blood tastes better when it’s from your naughty place.” he ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth. “Y/N” he moaned, running his index finger along your clothed heat. “You smelled so much better here...I just want to- ungh.”

He suddenly drove his fangs into your right thigh. You gasped, arching your back. He violently grabbed your legs, holding them down. His tongue lashed against your freshly made wound. 

You could hear him whimpering, cursing under his breath. 

Kanato would deny it with his life, but everything about you was like a drug to you. Tasting your blood was even sweeter than every dessert he’s ever tasted. Feeling you whimper and plea for him did things to him that would make a sailor blush. 

Forget Yui, forget his brothers, forget it all.

“Fuh-” Kanato couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t stop himself from ripping off your panties and driving his tongue into your most sensitive parts. Hearing you moan for him, cry for him. 

The rumors were right, vampires were godly lovers. It was like Kanato knew what you wanted and where. He lashed his tongue against your heat, grabbing your legs. 

“Wrap your legs around my head,” he demanded. “Not like it’s gonna kill me.” he laughed manically. “

Knock knock

“Y/N, are you in there?” Yui’s small voice caused you to panic a little. As you tried to get up, Kanato pushed you right back down, growling into your pussy,

“FUCK!” you whined, making it very obvious what you two were up to. “Kanato, I can’t-”

“Then don’t.” he grunted, not ceasing his movements. “Cum, cum for me.”

“K-KAANAAA!” you cried as you came. You thrashed and writhed under his touch, but he didn’t stop. His tongue never stopped moving. “fuh- fuck! Kanato, t-too much!”

“I said cum for me, I didn’t say I’d stop.” he thrust his fingers into you to add insult to injury. “You’re so fun to fuck with!” he spat.

“Kanato!” you sobbed. You couldn’t stop moving, you couldn’t stop thrashing. Th epleasure had gotten to you so much, you were drooling.

He finally withdrew his mouth from you, smiling evilly at the mess he left.

Kanato had grabbed one of his ties that had left on the floor and bound your wrists together.

“You look so inviting tied up for me...” he shuddered as he bit his lip. He licked his fingers clean of your blood and juices. “Good thing the night is young...because I’m not done with you.”

...

[ravencrawls]

Our Song - Eddie Munson

request: childhood friends to enemies to lovers, with vecna on the rise eddie has to save the reader before it is too late (a/n: it’s not immediately lovers but eddie does safe her and it’s fluffy, also I use a song that wasn’t released until 1990 but just go with it because i love that song so much x)

warnings: swearing, mentions of death and blood

You and Eddie hadn’t spoken since middle school, perhaps even longer than that. Eddie had been your best friend growing up, you were inseparable until both of you began to make other friends through school. He hung around people you didn’t approve of and he thought the same thing about your friends.

Now, years later it was almost as if the two of you couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Which was a bit of a problem since Eddie was a fugitive and you had to clear his name with your friends. 

No matter how much you disliked him, he didn’t deserve to get the blame for something he had not done. You weren’t like that. So here you were, walking through the upside down with Nancy, Robin, Steve and Eddie.

“Slow down, will you.” Eddie grumbled as he tried to keep up with you.

“I can’t help that you’re so slow.”

Eddie pulled a face at her behind her back, like a child would when they didn’t get what he wanted from their parents. 

It was dark, it was cold and all you wanted was to go back home and take a hot shower to wash the grime from the bats off your skin. One had taken a bite out of your calf and you could still feel the blood seeping through your pants.

“How much further?” Robin whined as she ambled behind Nancy and Steve.

“Not far,” Nancy called, trying to find her way through the woods toward her home. “Fifteen more minutes?”

“Jesus,” you breathed, leg starting to hurt even worse from the pressure you’d been putting on it. “H Christ.”

“Still have a mouth on you, I see.” Eddie said from beside her.

“Bite me,” you glared, clenching your jaw.

Eddie raised a brow and you half expected him to make a stupid remark in return but he didn’t. He tried to hide a grin as he shook his head at you, tongue darting out his mouth to lick his upper lip. You watched him with furrowed brows, almost tripping over a tree branch had he not grabbed onto your bicep.

“Watch where you’re going.”

It didn’t sound like Eddie, not at all and you stopped in your tracks, feeling his grip tighten on your arm. It hurt and you tried to pull away from him. “Eddie, you’re hurting me.”

“Am I?” he said, the dark sky had turned almost black and you lost sight of you friends as you looked around frantically. Snapping your gaze back toward Eddie you noticed he was no longer Eddie, but Vecna. 

A scream escaped your lungs and you pulled away from his with all your might, but he wouldn’t budge. Your heart was hammering inside of your chest, eyes wide as you watched him with a fear you had never felt before.

“How does it feel (y/n)?” he cocked his head to the side. “Tell me, is it time for your suffering to end?”

He brought his hand toward your face, long black nails dragging themselves down you cheek in mock comfort as he stared at you. You were hyperventilating as he rested the palm of his hand on your forehead. Glancing around frantically you could almost hear it, like a nudge at the back of your mind. 

The angelic voice of Dave Gahan reached your ears as Enjoy The Silence played through the dark forest. Vecna narrowed his eyes, grip on your head tightening as you glanced through the opening of his fingers.

On the other side, Eddie was panicking as he tried to place your headphones over your ears, frantically searching through your backpack for your tapes. Nancy was trying to tell him to put another song on but he downright refused, sure of himself this was still your favourite song after all those years.

“No!” he almost fell back in shock when your body started to levitate. He grabbed your leg and pulled, but you wouldn’t budge as you went higher, almost out of reach. Blood poured from your nose and onto your white top and he thought you were done for. “No! Shit, shit, shit!”

You saw it happen as Vecna held you, squeezing your skull between his fingers. The desperation on Eddie’s face made you sob and you kicked at the monster before you, still to no avail. 

“You belong here,” he said. “no one is going to save you.”

“Please!” Eddie screamed, pulling on his long locks as he looked up at your floating body. Your eyes had gone white, flickered open and closed like Chrissy Cunningham’s had been. “Come back to me!”

He was utterly terrified.

You had never seen Eddie look so scared before, and it mad you angry. You didn’t want to see him scared, not like that, so with all your might you grabbed onto Vecna and pulled on his slimy skin, pulling out a piece of skin. He dropped you, screaming in anger as you scrambled to your feet.

It was only a few feet back toward the real world and you ran as fast as your legs would take you. Vecna had no time to recover before he saw you disappear from his hold on you.

“Y/N!” Nancy cried, eyes wide. The four of them stood below, not knowing what to do as you still floated in the air.

Your eyes snapped open and a gasp escaped your lips as you dropped back toward the forest soil. Eddie caught you, well as best as he could and fell toward the ground with you, groaning in pain as he his a tree branch.

“Oh god,” you moaned, grabbing onto his arms as tightly as you could. “i’m okay, i’m okay.”

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie swore as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, rocking you back and forth. “Jesus Christ!”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, you trying to catch your breath and Eddie wanting to feel you were actually here, alive and not dead like he saw happen to Chrissy. God, he really didn’t want you to die.

“You remembered my favourite song.” you muttered, feeling comforted in his embrace.

“How could I ever forget?” he asked, pulling away slightly to glance at your face. He wiped the blood from your nose with his sleeve and smiled softly, which you returned.

[erineverly]

❛    𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟏     ❫       :       𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭.

someone’s  once  said  that  becoming  a  parent  is  the  ultimate  shift  from  self-centered  living  to  selfless  living.  erin  believes  that  there’s  no  truer  statement.  for  the  past  four  months  her  life  has  revolved  solely  around  her  baby  boy.  and  although  motherhood  is  the  one  thing  that  she’s  always  dreamed  about  and  there’s  nothing  she  loves  more  than  tending  to  sebastian’s  every  need,  it’s  definitely  taking  a  toll  on  her  mental  health  (  without  her  realizing  ).  she  used  to  be  such  a  fun,  outgoing  person  and  now  she  can’t  remember  the  last  time  she  got  to  leave  the  house  or  had  a  friend  over,  let  alone  went  on  a  date  with  her  husband.  even  their  new  year’s  eve  ended  up  being  a  complete  disaster  with  her  mood  doing  a  full  one-eighty  upon  learning  that  slash  had  invited  them  to  join  him  and  their  other  friends  downtown  and  that  axl  was  actually  ready  to  just  ditch  their  son  and  party  the  night  away.  what  kind  of  parent  leaves  their  newborn  baby  with  a  babysitter  on  a  day  as  special  as  their  very  first  new  year’s  eve?  not  the  loving  kind,  for  sure.  so,  she  threw  a  fit,  changed  into  her  yoga  pants  and  an  oversized  t-shirt  and  stayed  home  with  sebastian.  to  say  that  they’ve  been  struggling  ever  since  would  be  an  understatement.  even  their  baby,  who  was  always  such  a  great  sleeper  and  the  happiest  little  boy,  now  cries  most  of  the  time  and  only  sleeps  when  one  of  his  parents  is  holding  him.  sleep-deprived,  impulsive  and  even  more  sensitive  than  before,  erin  has  no  idea  how  to  pull  her  life  together  and  almost  no  energy  to  fight  for  her  marriage.  sometimes,  when  things  get  intense,  the  only  person  keeping  her  from  stealing  one  of  axl’s  guns  and  ending  her  suffering  is  sebastian.  

of  course,  the  one  time  she  gives  in  and  lets  axl  stay  home  with  the  baby  all  by  himself,  instead  of  packing  everything  up  and  taking  the  whiny  newborn  to  the  doctor’s  office  with  her,  everything  goes  wrong.  her  appointment  is  at  4  p.m.,  and  she  knows  that  she  has  to  be  home  before  7  p.m.  because  axl’s  playing  a  show  later  this  evening,  the  very  first  one  in  1991  if  she  remembers  correctly,  and  she  has  to  stay  home  with  bastian.  she  doesn’t  really  want  the  entire  city,  or  worse  —  the  entire  world,  to  learn  that  they’ve  had  a  baby.  for  safety  and  privacy  reasons.  that’s  what  she’s  telling  herself,  how  she  justifies  her  refusal  to  go  to  the  show  with  the  baby.  but  that’s  only  partially  true.  her  son’s  immune  system  is  still  so  very  weak  that  she  sees  the  idea  of  spending  even  a  second  in  a  crowded  room  with  him  as  something  life-threatening.  she  leaves  the  doctor’s  office  late,  heads  home  in  late-afternoon,  rush-hour  traffic  and  soon  finds  herself  stuck  in  a  jam  of  honking  cars  and  frustrated  drivers.  unfortunately,  she  doesn’t  make  it  home  on  time,  but  it  doesn’t  really  stress  her  out.  she  expects  to  find  beta,  the  new  babysitter  that  axl’s  found  in  some  newspaper,  in  their  living  room  with  sebastian  in  her  arms,  but  what  she  finds  instead  is  a  note.  a  note  that  makes  her  heart  lurch  into  her  throat,  pounding  uncomfortably.  her  palms  sweating.  jesus  christ.

the  next  thing  she  knows,  her  red  jeep  is  back  on  the  streets,  maneuvering  dangerously  between  other  vehicles.  it’s  the  longest  ride  of  her  entire  life.  minutes  feel  like  hours  as  she  can’t  help  but  worry  about  her  baby,  wonder  if  he’s  okay.  he  probably  isn’t.  after  all,  he  has  the  dumbest,  most  selfish  father  in  the  world.  maybe  he’s  locked  in  some  nasty  bathroom,  scared  and  crying,  with  a  diaper  that  most  likely  hasn’t  been  changed  ever  since  she  left.  these  thoughts  make  her  want  to  tear  up  as  she  walks  into  the  crowded  bar.  wearing  a  white  turtle  neck,  tucked  neatly  into  her  skirt,  tights  and  a  pair  of  doc  martens,  with  her  long  ringlets  cascading  down  her  back,  she  turns  a  few  heads,  but  she’s  too  stressed  out  to  even  notice.  her  mind  is  fixated  on  one  thing  and  one  thing  only  —  finding  her  baby  and  bringing  him  home.  her  heart  is  going  a  hundred  miles  an  hour,  and  she’s  sure  the  apples  of  her  cheeks  match  the  scarlet  tinge  of  her  short  corduroy  skirt.  she’s  furious  and  so  very  disappointed  with  axl.  how  can  he  possibly  be  so  reckless? he’s  done  many  dumb  things  in  his  life,  so  has  she,  but  this  exceeds  her  wildest  expectations.  this  is  undoubtedly  the  stupidest,  most  insane  thing  that  the  redhead  has  ever  done.  the  air  is  thick  with  cigarette  smoke.  it’s  enough  to  constrict  her  lungs  and  make  her  cough.  she  doesn’t  even  want  to  begin  to  imagine  what  it’s  doing  to  her  poor  baby  boy.  a  few  months  ago  he  had  to  fight  for  each  breath  and  now  his  father  just  brought  him  to  a  place  like  this.  gosh,  how  could  she  trust  this  man?  how  could  she  think  he’d  know  how  to  take  care  of  her  baby?  she  used  to  love  this  bar,  the  food,  the  atmosphere,  but  still  no  four  month  old  belongs  in  a  place  like  this.  frozen  in  place,  she’s  looking  around  nervously,  bright  eyes  scanning  every  inch  of  the  room.

╰        @rcsechild​

[the-iceni-bitch]

I Long to Be

Pairing: Mr Freezy x hit woman!reader (kitten), Officer Bill x hit woman!reader (PG only for now)

Words: ~2.1k

Summary: Your new dynamic has Bobby ready to explode.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, over the pants hand job, dry humping, mentions of oral and penetrative sex), emotional manipulation, reader is a massive bitch, slightly subby Bobby (what?!?!), cheating adjacent, domestic violence as foreplay, inappropriate behavior at a funeral, gossipy neighbors, SMUT!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: This is mostly just setting the stage for the next arc I’m gonna do with our murderers but whoo boy are you sluts in for a treat! Sorry for inflicting the stache on you, but I’m just gonna lean into it.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!!

You moaned softly when Bobby pulled you back against his chest, the hand that wasn’t digging into your tit buried knuckle deep in your cunt from behind as he stroked your walls slowly.

“No marks.” You ordered when you felt his teeth scrape over your pulse, ignoring the snarl he shot you through the mirror before settling for licking a thick stripe up the side of your neck. “Don’t fucking pout at me, pretty sure even those dumb fucks out there would notice if I walked out there with a hickey. Control yourself.”

“You need to quit being a fucking bitch.” He growled when you squeezed his cock before starting to stroke it through his slacks again. “It’s been five days, if I don’t feel that warm snatch wrapped around me soon, I’m gonna fucking kill someone.”

“Then you’ll just have to wait even longer, Bobby. I told you, we’re gonna drill some fucking self control into you.” You rolled your hips into his hand when his palm ground into your clit, dropping your head back against his shoulder and purring when you felt his cock throbbing under your palm. “Plus, I’m still pissed at you for the unbelievable pile of bull shit I had to dig you out of.”

“But… fuck, kitten.” He buried his face in your hair to cover his groan when you squeezed him again, bucking his hips into your grip and tugging softly at your nipple as you brought him towards his peak. “I fucking need it. You can just suck on the tip a little, just tide me over, I’m fucking dying.”

“You’re fucking dramatic, I’m still letting you come, so quit being a bitch.” You felt warmth bloom under your hand and smirked at him, your pussy sucking on his fingers as he started fucking them into you harder until you came with a broken sob.

“You goddamn cunt.” He looked furious when you pulled away from him, growling when you wrenched out of his grip to straighten your dress out. “I swear to god, you keep fucking holding out on me and I’m gonna split you in half in front of those cunts until you’re bleeding and begging me to stop.”

“No you’re not.” You shoved your tits back into your dress and did up the buttons. “You’re gonna play the grieving husband and father for as long as I tell you, and once I feel like the fucking heat has died down enough, maybe then you can get your dick wet. But until that happens, you’ll just have to settle for hands and dry humping. Now shut up and try to look wrecked.”

He didn’t have to try, he was wrecked. Dealing with your constant teasing without being able to actually fuck you had him feeling like his nerves were frayed to the limit, and topping that off with having to play the tormented widower was testing the self control you were adamant he exercise. There hadn’t even been any jobs for him to redirect his pent up rage, so he was stuck settling for furiously jerking himself every night as he longed for your perfect, warm cunt.

You gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before opening the door and heading back out to the wake, not bothering to fix your face as it fit the narrative that Bobby had been comforting you while you cried yourself out. With how haggard he was, your stupid cunt neighbors had no problem accepting when you told them that you and Bobby had been supporting each other through this tough time. 

Bobby’s jaw was clenched tight as he stood at the edge of his living room, barely paying attention to the twats who kept coming up to him to tell him how sorry they were for his loss while he watched you act like the perfect grieving friend. You shot him a glare when he tried to move closer to you, hiding your smirk behind your drink and leaning against the wall when he accepted another unwanted embrace like a good little widower.

“Hi, Suzy?” You had to act quick to school your face when you turned and found the fucking cop who had flirted with you at the damn crime scene standing there, you had not expected to see him again.

“Officer Bill!” You caught Bobby start out of the corner of your eye, shooting him a glance to settle him before turning back to your surprising visitor. “Robert’s just over there, did you need to talk to him about something? I thought everything was closed.”

“It is, and please just call me Bill.” He gave you a nervous smile and stepped a little closer to you, fidgeting with his hands as he struggled with what to say to you. “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you and I know these things tend to put all the focus on the family but I wanted to make sure you were ok? Since she was your best friend, I’m sure things are hard.”

Oh shit. Your flirting had worked a little too well, this boy was sweet on you. It took some doing for you to fight the pleased smile that tried to spread across your face, especially when you caught Bobby glaring at you over the cop’s shoulder when the man reached and gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“It’s been so hard.” You gave a small sob and could have laughed when he drew you into his chest, burying your face in the warm planes of muscle as he did his best to comfort you. “I feel so alone now. I’d usually talk to Mary about this, but now I have no one. Maybe I could talk to Robert but he’s suffering so much worse than me, I don’t want to burden him any more.”

“God, you’re so sweet, honey.” You managed to disguise your snort as another sob, pressing your body close to his and trying not to grin when he settled his hands at the small of your back, “You can talk to me, Suzy.”

“Bill, you just met me.” This was working out great for you; a dumb cop who was already wrapped around your finger and a new way to piss off Bobby, what could be better? “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Baby, no, never.” He gave you a soft smile when you lifted your head to meet his gaze, cupping your face in one massive palm and gently brushing his thumb over the curve of your cheek in an effort to soothe you. “I just wanna help, but we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, ok?”

“Okay.” You leaned into his cheek and sighed softly as you batted your eyelashes at him, it had been a while since you had played this game, but seems like you were still a fucking pro. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’.” You let him give your waist a squeeze before stepping back, your eyes finding Bobby’s and narrowing at the look of unbridled rage you found there until he was cowed. “There’s a little bakery near here if you wanna have some privacy.”

He nodded towards the gaggle of housewives that was watching you with interest while the rest of your neighbors started filtering home and you sighed, accepting his hand and letting him lead you towards the front door while you gave Bobby one more warning glance to keep him from doing something stupid. As soon as the door closed behind you the busybodies went crazy, whisper shouting at each other as they tried to keep some semblance of decorum while they packed up all the leftovers and helped Bobby clean up, or rather, did all the cleaning while Bobby started downing scorch like it was his job.

Thirty minutes later and he was finally alone, exhausted from all the unwanted hugs and sympathies he had to endure and wanting nothing more than to lose himself in you. But he couldn’t because you were still out with that fucking cop. He sulked in the chair at the front window, watching your house as he slowly drained the bottle of scotch and tried to keep himself from imagining what you might be doing with that fucker.

By the time the bastard’s car finally pulled up in front of your house an hour later, the bottle was empty, Bobby wallowing in a pool of self pity that he never would have admitted to and growling when he watched the officer help you out of the car and lead you to your front door with an arm around your waist. When he watched him give you a peck on the cheek he almost lost it, dropping the bottle and cursing when he heard it smash against the floor. At least you didn’t invite him inside, sending him on his way with a little wave before strolling into your house without a second glance. 

Bobby waited a few minutes after the cocksucker pulled away before storming over to your place, barely keeping himself together until he was able to knock on your front door. 

“Hey there, Bobby.” You gave him a wicked grin when you opened the door, stepping aside and letting him in. 

“The fucking cop?” He was itching to slap you, or maybe choke you, he was absolutely furious.

“Bobby, Bobby, Bobby.” You shoved him a little and snorted when he stumbled slightly. “Drunk again. What the fuck am I gonna do with you?”

“Fuck me.” He was so drunk he didn’t even care anymore, grabbing you by the back of your neck and dragging your face to his until his lips were devouring yours.

“Jesus, did I fucking break you, Bobby?” You chuckled when he growled in response and shoved you against the wall, grinding his hardened cock into your hip as he tried to wrap his hands around your throat. “No fucking marks! God, still haven’t learned, have you?”

Your slap sent him reeling, the only thing that kept him upright being your tight grip on his collar as you watched him with mock concern. He tried to snarl at you when you gripped his jaw in one hand, shaking his head with a demeaning tut before leaning forward to bite at his lips.

“You need to dump that fucking cop, kitten.” He purred into your mouth when you wound one leg around his hip and dragged him into you, letting him rock against you slowly with a low moan as his dick twitched in his pants.

“And you still need to fucking control yourself, instead of charging over to your single neighbor’s house like a bat out of hell right after your wife’s funeral when you know every fucking busybody in the neighborhood is gonna be watching us like a bunch of hawks.” You let him lift your other leg to wrap around him, pressing you into the wall and moaning into your neck as he ground right against your clit. “I’ll make you a deal Bobby; you manage to keep that temper of yours reined in and the neighbors off our backs for a whole month while I make that sweet, dumb cop fall in love with me, and I’ll let you do whatever he does to me, so you don’t combust.”

“You’re such a bitch.” His breath against your neck was desperate, the rhythm of his hips writhing against you growing frantic as you both neared your ends. “You let him fuck you and I don’t care, kitten, I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Aww, don’t worry baby, it’ll just be the tip.” You laughed when he snarled into your throat, forcing himself to pull back before he sank his teeth into you so you didn’t decide to torture him even more. “Look at you being so good, and I didn’t even mention your reward.”

“What is it?” Christ, you were just whipping men left and right today.

“Once I get that moron to give me his whole heart, I’ll let you help me break it.” He hit you at the perfect angle and you shuddered with bliss, your release soaking the front of his slacks as his own filled his briefs. “But in a way that keeps him wrapped around my little finger so we can use him if we need to.”

“Ugh, fuck. Fine.” He sighed defeatedly into your neck. “But if I haven’t had my dick sucked once by this time in two weeks, I’m getting a fucking toy.”

[babyjakes]

forever and a day | 23. his best girl.

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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of the aftermath of child abuse/neglect (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). mentions/descriptions of past CSA and CSM. medical abuse and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.somewhat evil!Tony Stark (eventually).

[Bruce]

“How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Bruce can bump up your pain meds; Bruce-” Tony turns to me mid-sentence, a look of sheer panic flashing across his face. Girl’s slumped against the bed, big tears rolling down her cheeks. I, however, am not totally convinced that they’re due to physical pain. Once Steve left the room, the child’s heart rate evened out almost immediately. I think more than anything, she’s just tired and afraid. Her life has been nothing but pure chaos for the past twelve hours or so.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, speaking as steadily as possible, in stark contrast to Tony. Girl looks down at her bandaged side, sucking in a breath. “The line of painkillers I have you on is pretty strong. Is it working?” The child nods. Tony sighs in relief, though he quite frankly seems no more relaxed at learning this.

“What happened, Girl? They shot you, at the safe-house?” Tony rushes into questioning. The little girl nods again, her head hanging low. Tony huffs, running a hand through his hair. “And you didn’t tell anyone?” When he only receives a head shake as a response, his voice turns darker as he spits, “Jesus christ- why the hell not?”

“Tony,” I interject, glaring at the man as his eyes dart up to meet mine. As I scan his face, stiff with tension, his demeanor and behavior only become more concerning to me. “Go easy on her,” I reason. “She was put in a terrible situation. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, no, I reject that,” Tony retorts, his usual stubbornness shining through at the worst time possible. “She hid it when it happened, fine. But she had plenty of opportunity after to tell someone. If not Steve, then Clint. Or Sam, or Peter. She made the whole thing a million times worse for herself, worse for everyone. I mean, come on, Bruce. She could’ve gotten herself killed-”

“Tony, enough,” I cut him off, earning a glare from the man’s dark eyes. Girl shrinks back from both of us, her cheeks paling at Tony’s reckless words. Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. How does he think what he’s doing is helpful right now? He’s completely terrifying the poor kid; she’s too afraid to even apologize for what he’s upset about. “Hallway. Now,” I finally demand, making my way to the door. Tony grunts, but thankfully obliges, rising to his feet and following me out.

Once I’ve made sure the door is completely closed behind us, I let out a long breath of hot air, leaning up against the door-frame. Tony crosses his arms and turns away from me, shaking his head.

“You’re being totally unfair,” I tell him. He chuckles darkly, scraping his shoe against the floor.

“And you’re being a total softie, so what’s new?” the dark-haired man retorts, turning back to face me. “Look, I know you’re probably worried about making her cry or something trivial like that, but the stunt she pulled was stupid and reckless. She could have bled out on her bathroom floor. And you don’t think we should say anything about it?” At this point, Tony is seething, and more than anything it’s just astonishing to me how off-course his line of thinking is.

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk with her about it,” I correct him. “But you’re going about it completely wrong. She did what she did because she was afraid. Getting angry at her and cussing her out isn’t going to help her feel any less scared.” He purses his lips into a thin line, shaking his head once again.

“We could’ve lost her, Bruce. She needs to know that she can’t hide things like that from us. It’s not my job to keep her happy all the time. It’s my job to keep her alive.”

“The more you treat her like this, the less likely it is that she’ll let you do that,” I argue quietly. Tony’s eyes darken at my words, and he takes a step towards me.

“I don’t remember asking your input on how to be a parent,” he warns through his teeth.

“You’re not being a parent, Tony,” I say with a shake of my head, sadness sinking into my chest. “You’re being a bully. And even though that usually works out for you, I can guarantee that the more you try to beat Girl down, the less likely it is that she’ll ever accept you as a parent.” My words appear to cut deep as Tony takes a step back, his gaze finally breaking from mine. He swallows hard, not saying anything. “I know that you’re coming from a place of good intentions. But you need to start learning how to soften up,” I tell him. “Otherwise, Steve might as well be raising her alone.”

For a moment, he looks like he’s going to say something, but it quickly passes, and before I know it, he’s turned back around and walked away. Heart pounding heavily in my throat, I watch him as he disappears down the hallway. I wish I could’ve found a gentler way to tell him. But sometimes the truth is hard to hear.

Turning back to the door, I rest my hand on the handle. I could go back in and try to patch up the damage that Tony caused myself, but I’m not sure that’s what needs to happen right now. Looking back all the way down the hallway, I see a single shoe sticking out from the wall that cuts off the hall from the waiting room. Just as I thought, Steve is waiting down there. And I know that Steve can provide a kind of comfort to Girl that no one else can.

[Steve]

The sound of footsteps approaching from down the hall cause me to look up from the spot I’ve been mindlessly staring at on the floor. Turning slightly, I’m expecting Bruce, but instead, it’s Tony. He walks swiftly past me, not even stopping to acknowledge my presence. Something must’ve happened. His body language gives it away. Beginning to grow worried, I rise to my feet, wondering if I should go back down the hall and see what’s going on.

Before I can move, though, I hear more footsteps heading in my direction. Before long, Bruce appears, a solemn look on his face. “Hey Cap,” he greets. I nod at him. “I think it might be time for you to head in there.”

“What’s up with Tony?” I ask.

“Well, I said some things to him that he didn’t want to hear. After you left, he-… he got angry with Girl for not telling anybody she was wounded. And while I understand where he’s coming from- I mean, kinda- he was totally out of line in how he treated Girl. At this point, I’m pretty sure he only made things worse.”

“He got angry with her?” I ask, confused.

Bruce nods. “He was upset that she put herself in more danger. I don’t think he understands how fearful she is, or how really even trauma works.”

“God, Tony,” I sigh, doing my best not to roll my eyes at the man’s insensitive behavior. “She hid it from us, out of fear that we would hurt her more, and his response was to get mad?” Shaking my head, my brain begins to hurt at even trying to comprehend what he could’ve been thinking. “When I found out, it just broke my heart.”

“You and Tony are very different people,” Bruce explains. “Which is why I think now would be a good time for you to make amends with Girl. She needs someone who will treat her gently. That’s something Tony’s going to have to work on.” I nod in agreement, shoving my frustration with my co-parenting partner aside for later. Right now, Girl needs me. I have my own mess to clean up with her. And now, I guess it looks like I’ll be picking up after Tony, too.

“Alright. I’ll head down there,” I agree. Bruce nods, and I turn, starting my way back down the hall.

When I reach the door, my hand fumbles for the knob as I pause for a second, taking in a deep breath. Soft, I remind myself, gentle. Nothing like Tony.

As carefully as I can, I open the door, stepping only a foot or so into the room. Girl is lying on the bed, her knees bent, legs tucked in close to her body. Looking at her in this moment, it really sinks in just how tiny she is.

As soon as she sees me, the child’s eyes grow wide, wild with fear. As she shrinks back into the mattress, it appears as if she wishes she could just disappear altogether. Taking a step further inside, I turn to close the door behind me before turning back to face Girl. Her hands grip the sheets tightly underneath her, causing my gaze to soften, my brow raising slightly. As gently as I can, I reassure her, “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’m not here to hurt you.” Not an ounce of apprehension drops from her face; it’s clear she’s not convinced. “Can I sit down?” I try carefully. Unblinking, the little girl doesn’t dare respond, instead she just continues to look at me, her green eyes glittering with tears. When I take a few more steps towards the bed, her grip tightens, her expression reminding me of a deer in the headlights.

A few more cautious steps land me at the side of the bed. As I rest myself down gently onto the edge of the mattress, Girl finally moves to cower, her bottom lip beginning to quiver. “Hey, shhh. It’s okay,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re safe, Girl. It’s alright.” Unfortunately, I know my words do little to comfort her.

Remembering Bruce’s emphasis on the power of safe physical contact, I decide to reach out, placing a hand on one of the girl’s bony knees. The child flinches, a whimper catching in her throat. Though she remains silent, her eyes do all the pleading for her. Her fear and uncertainty are written all over her face; it almost makes it worse, in a way, that she won’t open her mouth and beg like usual. Not even that feels safe anymore. So she just stays quiet.

“Sweetheart,” I begin, meeting her wary gaze with my own. “I know you’re frightened. You have every right to be. What you saw in the safe-house… I didn’t ever want to scare you. I didn’t even know you were watching. I just… I got caught up in the moment. I looked in that man’s eyes and I-… I saw everyone who ever hurt you staring back at me. And I just-… I lost myself,” I admit. Girl looks up at me, eyes wide. “They were coming for you. They wanted to hurt you. And the thought of anyone ever hurting you again… I couldn’t bear it,” I shake my head. “Sometimes, when you’re a superhero like me, you have to do scary things to protect people from the bad guys. And when it’s you, when it’s my best girl… I gotta do all I can,” I finish, rubbing my thumb across her knee gently.

Girl is quiet for a moment, and I’m surprised to see that beyond the wariness shining in her eyes, there’s a tiny glimmer of something more, something that almost seems like… wonder. When she finally does open her mouth to speak, her words seem like nothing short of a miracle, and time stands still. “Best girl,” she repeats. Almost… lovingly.

“That’s right,” I blink back tears, unable to keep from smiling at her. “My best girl. And I can’t let anything happen to you.” Before I can say anything more, Girl has pushed herself up in front of me, leaning in against my chest. Enveloping my arms around her, I run a hand gently over the small girl’s hair, her tears soaking through my shirt as I struggle to choke back my own. The familiar feeling of the soft, warm body wrapped up in my embrace returns to me like a breath I’ve been waiting to take in for far too long, and it’s entirely overwhelming; it’s entirely extraordinary.

“Best girl,” the child says again, her voice muffled by the fabric. I lean down and plant a kiss on the top of her head, a feeling of homecoming washing over me like a wave of grace. “Yours.”

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[bi-bi-readytocry]

Bruised eye, broken heart (b.b.)

pairings: Bucky x reader warnings: fluff, cliches and cheesy lines, idk... bad writing, maybe some profanities, oh and mistakes (english isn’t my first language, sorry pals) summary: some supid decisions happens, Bucky comes to rescue

GIF not mine - credit to the owner. 

You looked like a mess. Tangled hair, broken pair of high heels in your hand, and at the top of this all your favourite dress had now a freakin’ ripped slit up to your upper thigh. Fuck. You hated dating apps, they were full of creeps and weirdos, but Nat was pretty persuasive - at least when you were shitfaced with some vodka - so you two made accounts. Just for fun, of course, but the fact, that you matched with this guy - Ethan - who captured your interest and after two weeks of intense texting you decided to give it a go and you two agreed on a date night. What a stupid idea. 

You weren't even that interested. Your thoughts were occupied by a certain hunk of a man, who just this week brought some random redheaded cutie to the compound and you were stupidly jealous. So you decided for the most adult solution you knew - have a date with some random man from an online dating app and tell no one. Fuck this. Your whole face hurt like hell and you had no shoes, no money and no ride. You took a deep breath and decided to call the one man, who was the reason behind your suffering.

He picked up immediately. "Hey, doll." 

-----------

A black car pulled into the parking lot, where you were currently hiding. Taking a deep breath you started to mentally prepare yourself for what was coming. Bucky stepped out of the car and looked around. It took him exactly 23 seconds to spot you. And exactly 2 seconds to turn on full rage Bucky. Fuck. "Hi, Buck." You tried to smile, but the cut lip and bruised jaw protested with sharp pain. "Jesus fuck, (y/n). Get in the car." Trying to act tough would be useless, so with your head down, you went for the passenger's seat.

When the door lock shut Bucky shifted his gaze to you. "Now tell me, what the hell happened. Do I need to go and murder someone, or is this one of your stupid ideas ending wrong." You let out a defeated sight and looked in the shade mirror. Fuck, you looked worse, than expected. Bruised jaw and cut lip weren't the only things on your face, that were angry red and purple. Shutting the shade back in its place, you looked back at Bucky. "I thought you liked my bad ideas?" Bucky let out an angry huff, so you decided to continue with digging your own grave. "So I thought, it would be a good idea, to go on a date with a guy I met online. And of course, he wasn't real. It was some stupid ass gang member, who held a grudge against me for busting their business a few months back." The phrase 'fucking douchebag' comes out of your mouth like a whisper, so Bucky's not sure if he heard you right. "Well, doll, you have no idea how angry I currently am. You could have been killed. Are you even aware of your own decisions? You are so full of yourself - look at you. One man did this to you and you are still wondering, why I'm not letting Steve give you alone missions?" 

Your mouth falls open. Now it's your time to be angry. "What the fuck, Barnes? You know nothing about this and yet you decide to give me a parenting talk? Fuck off! There were six of them - he brought friends and they fucking jumped me in a back alley of the restaurant. I put 4 of them to the hospital and two of them run away screaming, you asshole." You look at him. He is making you so angry, that you are really considering punching him in his stupidly perfect face. "And what do you mean - you, YOU of all people, are not letting Steve assigning me to solo missions. Who do you think you are? If you want to control someone, try it with your girlfriend first, but I can assure you, she won't be happy." 

Your head is starting to hurt like hell, but that doesn’t stop you from scowling at him. And he has the audacity to look started. "Okay, but it doesn't change the fact, that this was a stupid idea and you should think first before you'll try so desperately to get laid. And girlfriend? What are you talking about I-" Now you were just shouting at each other and you were done.  Bucky crossed so many lines and this day was awful enough as it is. You didn't need any of this. "Stop the car." He didn't even look at you. "Don't be ridiculous, doll." 

"Bucky, stop the fucking car or I'm gonna jump right out of it." You are no longer screaming, but your voice is so dangerously slow and low, that Bucky decides, it's in his best intentions to stop near the sidewalk, so you don't hurl yourself into upcoming traffic. He also knows, he fucked up big time, but the fact that you went on a date with someone else makes him want to rip the steering wheel off. "Okay, doll listen I-"

But you cut him off. "No, Barnes. You are going to listen to me. I had a bad fucking day. Hell, I had a bad fucking week, so don't you dare to lecture me again." You gave Bucky a little time to decide if he wants to risk his life and when he remains quiet, you continue. "I’m done with this. With the fact that you always treat me like a fuckin’ child. I get it, you are this big super soldier, with all the serum in you, but guess what - I can be pretty badass too. I’m a trained assassin and not a stupid porcelain doll. And I’m so tired of waiting for you, so I’m sorry that I wanted to have someone too for once. But I guess I’m too fucked up for a normal relationship, so the only dates I’m gonna have are with fake ass Ethans and myself.” There is a heavy air and even heavier quiet in the car for a while. Bucky is looking at you, but saying nothing, he just starts the car again. “Okay Barnes, good talk. Now please, take me home.” 

-----------

It’s already a week after your “killer date” and currently it felt like you and Bucky weren’t on speaking terms. Hell - it wasn’t just a feeling, you were avoiding each other, and honestly it hurt you more than your already yellow-ish face. It’s not like you were expecting a declaration, that he was secretly in love with you, but you expected something. Some kind of response, some kind of reaction. But nothing happened, so you fell down in your weird Bucky-less routine. Sparing with Nat, training at night alone and eating in your room, ‘cause everyone was still giving you shit about the incident with Tinder. Fuck them. 

It was currently 3.47 AM and your mind was working full time. Thoughts about everything were running around and it made you lightheaded. Well, that was a lie, your thoughts were mostly about one person particularly, but you would never say that out loud. So you decided to do what you could do without thinking - kick the hell out of the punching bag. With sore hands and sweat on every inch of yor you, you were just waiting for your body to give up and collapse. 

You were so in your head that the fact that someone else entered the gym slipped your attention. So when they grabbed your waist, you were immediately in fighting mode and pinned Bucky to the floor with a fist ready in the air to knock him out with a single punch. “Well, I guess I kinda deserve this?” You didn’t waste any minute and quickly get up from Bucky’s lap. “Sorry, you startled me. I didn’t hear you come in.” Bucky slowly get up after you and quietly watched you pick on your gloves. Before he came here, he had a whole speech prepared about how he’s sorry and his feelings and more, but when he saw your still kinda bruised face and sad expression, it all went shit. So he just stood there and watched you and your nervous habits. 

“What do you need, James?” Bucky slightly flinched at the coldness in your tone, you barely called him James, not like this. It felt strange and wrong. “I just - doll, I -” Why was he stuttering? Jesus, this started really badly. He watched you shake your head in dissapointment. “Look, I’m not trying to be bitchy, but you know what? I kinda told you my part, not like I wanted to, but I did. I’m sorry that I yelled, but you made me so angry and frustrated, I just wanted to punch you in the face. But I liked you, like really liked you. And I get it - you don’t feel the same, but still, it would be cool if you just told me. I would feel stupid, but at least I wouldn’t feel like a burden in your life and I could move on, but now? We are not even friends anymore - or it sure don’t feel like we are. And it breaks my heart, because you were my best friend and now I lost you, because I’m stupid, selfish and wanted answers.” You curse yourself for being a little bitch when your eyes stars to well up with tears, but this time you decide to stay and wait for his answer.

Bucky looks lost. And he sure feels like it. And above all of that he also feels like a complete asshole, when he realizes that he probably broke your heart with his stupid actions and silent treatment (which wasn’t intetional, because he didn’t know what to say to you). “Liked me?” You look up from your hands and furrow your eybrows. “That’s the only thnig you got from what I just said? Barnes I swear to God -” 

“Well, if you don’t like me anymore, this will be kinda awkward.” You look at him confused, but then he is kissing you and what the actual hell is happening right now. You push him off of you and punch him, hardly, in the shoulder. “What the fuck! You just decided to ignore everything I said to you - twice - and though ‘I’m gonna kiss her, so everything will be alright’? Barnes you are getting on my nerves again.” 

Bucky blinks. Okay, that didn’t go as planned, but he somewhat expected it. “I’m sorry, doll. For everything. Mostly for the fact that I just ignored you for a whole week, but also because I was, I am, an idiot. I should just say something. Don’t let you just yell at me and then leave. I’m sorry I was such a coward that I caused you to think we are not even friends anymore. I wan’t you to be my friend, because you are sweet, selfless, kind, smart and pretty badass and you can put Sam in his place, which is honestly amazing. But I also love you - more than a friend, because you are sweet, selfless, kind, smart, pretty badass and short tempered and your ass looks hella good in your uniform. So I hope, that you were lying when you said you liked me. And that you can forgive me for being idiot who can’t coope with his feelings.” You finally look at Bucky, who is standing so close to you, that you can’t breathe right and you are pretty sure, that he can hear your wildly beating heart. “Only in my uniform?” 

Bucky laughs and then his hands are on your waist and he is pulling you closer to him. “In everything. It’s a pretty good looking butt. C’mere.” You smile at him and then you are kissing and this time no one is punching anyone and your hands are in Bucky’s hair and his are on your butt, which looks good in everything and you are happy and - “What the fuck?!” Sam’s voice resonates through the gym and you are forced to leave Bucky’s lips for a while. “Fuck off Wilson or I’m gonna kick your ass at training so hard, that you’ll cry again.” Bucky laughs and kisses your neck and your legs are suddenly weaker. “That was one time!” 

“That was hot.” You smirk at Bucky, who is giving you a suggestive look. “Well sarge, we should move this somewhere else then, so I can show you other hot things this mouth can do.” Bucky closes his eyes and rests his fohead on yours. “You’re gonna be the death of me, doll.” 

[chirhos]

i am very glad to have found a christian blog on here who's LGBT affirming. i've received a lot of backlash after coming out as a lesbian. for years i tried to push it down and "pray the gay away" so to speak because i was told i would be condemned for being otherwise. but then i married a man and stayed with him for 5 years and suffered a lot of trauma. he grabbed me by the throat in font of my mother during an argument and i had a lot of christians telling me that marriage is forever and as a woman i am not allowed to leave him and that it was wrong for me to leave him and that divorce is wrong. it's gotten worse now that i've come out and i've been attacked by many christians on here saying i was never a real christian...even though for as long as i can remember i've been involved in the church.

admitting i was a lesbian made it feel like a huge weight was taken off my chest - am i still loved by god despite all this? maybe that's a stupid question.

Romans 8:38-39 (NIV): For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

In other words, OF COURSE you are loved by God. This isn't to discount your discomfort or doubts, and it's not at all a stupid question - I know firsthand how difficult it can be to know that God loves you, especially when the Christians around you are being less than loving. But Christ's love for you never wavers - not DESPITE who you are, but BECAUSE of it.

I am so, so sorry that all of this has happened to you. You do not deserve any of it: not the abuse, not the homophobia, and certainly not the judgement of fellow Christians. I don't know where you live, and it sounds like you've gotten out of the marriage, but anyone experiencing domestic abuse in the US can find help at thehotline.org or by calling 1-800-799-7233 or texting START to 88788.

Admittedly, I don't know a lot about the variety of Christian perspectives on divorce beyond what you've already encountered. I do know the feminist perspective on divorce, though: it's a fundamental right for everyone, but especially for women, to be able to divorce an abusive spouse. I cannot imagine that a God who loves us (ALL of us) would want you to stay with an abuser, and I wish that the people around you could understand that. Other people have written about this much more eloquently than I ever could, but the idea that God's plan for women is for us to be entirely submissive to our husbands and at their mercy is misogynistic, ridiculous, and entirely unbiblical.

"You're not a real Christian" is an insult that progressive and conservative Christians both love to throw at one another. It's disappointing - it's good to constantly be evaluating if our actions are Christ-like, but I don't think insults really work to cause anyone to re-evaluate. Especially when Christ himself gave us the two greatest commandments by which we must live: you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind, and you should love your neighbor as yourself. Everything else should follow from this. It's not up to others to decide whether you are a "real" Christian or not. I know it's tough, but try not to listen to people who say these things to you.

I am so happy for you that you have come out despite everything that you have endured. If there is any way for you to find an affirming church (if that is something that you want - there's also absolutely zero shame in taking a step back from a religion and culture that have harmed you so much), I think that being surrounded by affirming Christians would do you a lot of good. There are more of us than you think! I've found that churchclarity.org is an excellent resource, or even just googling "[your city or area] lgbt affirming churches".

You'll be in my prayers, and I would ask that everyone who sees this join me in praying for you❤

[childofchrist1983]

When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest; and finding none, he saith, I will return unto my house whence I came out. And when he cometh, he findeth it swept and garnished. Then goeth he, and taketh to him seven other spirits more wicked than himself; and they enter in, and dwell there: and the last state of that man is worse than the first. - Luke 11:24-26 KJV

Do you know anyone who has suffered from addiction? So many times, a person conquers the addiction to alcohol or drugs only to relapse and finds it even harder to conquer it the second or third time.

I have known people who, after their baptism, felt haunted by past sins. This passage is a warning to us that we should always be on the watch for Satan's handiwork. Just because we have overcome temptation once, or turned away from a particular sin, doesn't mean that we are immune to the temptation the next time we encounter the same situations. We tend to think that we can recognize evil when we see it, but that sometimes only is true if we see it in others, not ourselves.

Jesus Christ was always warning the scribes and Pharisees because they were self-righteous and hypocritical. He called them blind guides. He warned them and us to remove the beam from our own eyes before we tried to remove the splinter in anothers' eye (Matthew 7:3-5). We can fall into the same traps and judge others while ignoring our own faults. It can also happen that we get away with something and decide if it works once, it can work again. Only this time, we aim for a bigger prize. The embezzler who starts off small, the thief who got away with it the first time - No matter what the sin, it can quickly become a dangerous and deadly habit.

No matter who we are, whether or not we attend church or pray everyday, Satan is waiting to trap us. We need to be vigilant and rely on God to keep us safe. The LORD God warns us against the power of Satan and evil. We live in a world that seems to deny its presence which makes it even more difficult to avoid. May we recognize the warning and turn to God for help.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time daily to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in the Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

[therealvinelle]

What do you think the Cullens would do if some person they were talking to, out of nowhere just quite literally exploded in front of, and on them? Kinda like in that movie Spontaneous. Would they lose control and slurp up the mess on the ground, (and themselves) or would their bloodlust be curtailed by shock of wtf just happened?

I'd say something witty about how this is a strange anon to receive, but holy jesus you've sent me down a rabbithole.

Here's a trailer to the movie Spontaneous. It looks amazing. Kevin Feige wishes this had been his plot for Infinity War.

Here's a trailer for the movie Spontaneous Combustion, which I found by accident while searching for your fic. This looks amazing too. Can't believe Marvel didn't buy the rights to this guy.

I'm serious, people, you definitely want to watch these trailers. I just about died laughing.

So, on to your ask.

In the spirit of your ask, which implies a level of randomness, I thought the people blowing up should be random too. So, being in the mood to procrastinate through spending way too much time on tumblr things, I wrote a program that'll generate for me random Twilight characters.

Unsure whether the explosion should kill vampires or not, I generated an answer. The answer is yes, any generated vampire dies.

Without further ado:

Alice watches Vladimir blow up.

Alright, alright.

The first question to be answered here is why Alice is in Vladimir's presence in the first time. In canon they only meet once, at the end of Breaking Dawn.

For the sake of simplicity, we'll have Vladimir blow up then.

The Cullens and the witnesses are all celebrating being alive, when Vladimir suddenly explodes.

For the sake of the ask, Alice is sitting closest to him when this happens and making conversation.

Her first thought is utter shock. Not just that he blew up, but that she didn't see it coming (she wouldn't, because I randomly generated him. No decision was made). Her second thought is horror.

The Cullens just confronted the Volturi, now mere hours afterwards their allies are blowing up.

Holy fuck, Aro has a gifted ace up his sleeve, and he's using it to kill them remotely.

Panic ensues, not just for Alice, but among all the witnesses. Some of them refuse to leave, Bella has to shield those 24/7, though given the belief that her gift is psychic that doesn't make them feel very safe.

The others decide to go after the Volturi and beg for mercy, assuring them they never meant to challenge them.

Aro, of course, is very confused, but agrees. Why, yes, he does have a vampire who blows people up. Yes, yes he does.

Bella watches Aro blow up.

Oh I'm dying laughing at this one. And wishing I'd put this down for Carlisle, that would be even funnier, but alright.

Bella is walking about post-Breaking Dawn, minding her own business, when suddenly Aro appears in front of her. He looks around himself, utterly surprised by his sudden deplacement, and then blows up.

Bella has been living in terror of this man for years.

In Volterra he had his servant torture her and Edward and then made ominious threats, then a few months later the Eclipse disaster unfolded, finally we have Breaking Dawn where he showed up to murder her and everyone she loved.

Her shield may be powerful, but for as long as Aro was alive her family was never truly safe.

His untimely implosion changes all of that.

I imagine after a long moment of incredulity, Bella burns the rubble, just to be sure, then tells her family the joyous news.

Carlisle gives the guy a funeral. It's weird.

Carlisle watches Vassilii blow up.

Close call, due to my not switching out the names we almost had Angela. In which case Carlisle have stood there, covered in blood and in shock for several long seconds, before bringing out the bleach and gasoline for a crime scene clean.

As it is, Carlisle is minding his own business when suddenly an immortal child dressed like a medieval Eastern European appears before him. It says something in a foreign language that might mean "hi", he doesn't know but he says "hi" to it back, then the child blows up.

Carlisle stares at the rubble for a very long time, wondering if he is perhaps losing his mind. If, perhaps, Aro was right about animal blood being a slow suicide, and Carlisle has finally hit the limit for how long a vampire can go on without human blood.

He burns the rubble and prays for the child's soul, as an immortal child is doomed anyway, and keeps his silence about what happened. In part because there's a solid chance this was all in his imagination.

If Aro ever touches his hand again, and sees the immortal child that he burned a thousand years earlier resurrect, travel through time, all in order to blow up in front of Carlisle, he... well there comes a point where you say "nothing to see here" and refuse eye contact with the universe glitching.

Edward watches Randall blow up.

Randall, for the ignorants, is one of Carlisle's friends that came to witness for the Cullens in Breaking Dawn.

Suddenly he appears in front of Edward, says hi and how do you do, and then he blows up.

Edward tells Carlisle, who is saddened by this, and they try to piece the guy together. They fail.

Edward sends a somber thought to this noble man who agreed with Edward that the Cullens are awesome enough to be worth dying for.

Emmett watches Mary blow up.

Emmett will never admit it, but it's the coolest, raddest thing he's ever seen.

Esme watches Eleazar blow up.

Oh boy.

The Cullens are visiting the Denali. Irina has not been dead for long, but given the crystal clear memory of vampires, and the loss they already suffered (Sasha's death traumatized them) it doesn't really matter how long it's been, the Denali are devastated anyway.

The whole coven is as fragile as it can possibly get.

Then, Eleazar goes to join Esme in the kitchen, and explodes all over her and the kitchen.

The remaining Denali and the Cullens are called to the kitchen by the sound of Esme's screaming, and find her in hysterics, surrounded by gray rubble.

The Denali are near catatonic with grief at this point, while cooking has been ruined for Esme. One moment you're making food, the next people are exploding all over your kitchen.

Yeah.

Esme is not okay.

Jasper watches Nahuel blow up.

It's a shameful moment in his life.

But, hybrids are edible.

And that blood was splattered all over him.

Jasper has the worst control fail of his life, worse even than when he failed with Bella because this fail means he can't be around Renesmée anymore.

It's miserable all around.

The one highlight here is that it didn't happen when they were headed to the Volturi trial together.

Rosalie watches Emmett blow up.

Jesus christ, random Twilight character generator, just when I thought you were just going to give me boring results.

Not only does Rosalie lose the love of her life, the guy who kept her together, the one good thing she had going for her who made her life worth living, but he did so right in front of her, blowing up out of nowhere.

There's no explanation to be had, no culprit to be found, no reason for it. She had no goodbye, just as she can have no revenge.

She will never have closure.

Renesmée watches Renée blow up.

We go out on a high note, my god. Well done, generator, I'm laughing.

Renesmée is curious enough about her grandmother to go to Florida. She was going to watch from afar, but finds herself talking to the woman who raised her mother.

It's all going well until Renée suddenly explodes all over Renesmée.

Renesmée's first thought is nothing, she's in shock.

Then...

Well, she was controlled as an infant, so I don't think an adult Renesmée would lose it unless under extreme circumstances, like if she encountered a singer.

More, though, Renesmée might have any reasons of her own not to drink human blood, but she has been raised with this being a big no-no.

So she shouldn't.

However...

Is she ever going to get a better chance?

Ethically, she could easily argue this is the right choice. No one will be negatively affected by this, at least not directly.

The human is right there, already dead, and there's no body so while Renesmée does have to clean up the gore. Hell, if she laps up the blood on her clothes and the ground she will be cleaning up. Why waste perfectly good blood?

If Renesmée Cullen is ever going to have human blood, this is it.

It will come down to how much she respects her grandfather, and how important she believes Renée was to Bella.

-

Bonus, because I'm having way too much fun with this:

Bree watches Atheonodora blow up.

Bree is minding her own business when suddenly a vampire unlike any she has ever seen before, one with hazy eyes and odd skin, appears before her. They stare at each other. Then the woman blows up.

Bree takes this to mean that exploding is apparently something vampires just do sometimes, runs off in a panic and, sobbing, tells Riley.

Riley, having no idea what to make of any of this, tells her it was those evil yellow-eyes with their witchcraft and sorcery.

[oumaheroes]

Christmas Drabble (4)

Summary: Australia vents his frustrations to an unbothered New Zealand at an airport.

Word Count: 943

Characters: New Zealand, Australia, Canada

Parts 1, 2, and 3

----

'I'm freezing my tits off out here.'

Zee continued to rummage about in their hand luggage and didn't respond.

'I'm also starving.'

'Go back inside then.'

Someone on their way out of the airport turned the corner sharply and bumped into Zee, causing them to stumble sideways against their suitcase. The man stopped, expecting some word of apology most likely, but got nothing in return aside from a cold, blank stare. He shuffled away, bewildered, and Zee carried on digging.

'You're blocking the walkway.' Australia offered helpfully, shuffling closer to be a steadying hand in case it happened again.

'They can go around me.'

'You're in the middle of everything.'

'I'm small.'

'Jesus,' Australia sighed and shivered inside his coat, 'Why is it so cold.'

'Because it's winter. You have your own like this.'

'Yeah but it's also damp here. That makes it worse.'

'I don't know why you're surprised by this each time we come over.' Zee triumphantly pulled out a packet of mints and popped one in their mouth, offering one to Australia who shook his head, 'Did you think it'd be different this year?'

'A man can hope.' A buzzing in his pocket distracted him and Australia pulled out his phone, peering at it suspiciously.

'That Matt?' Zee asked, slinging their bag over one shoulder and glancing about in anticipation.

'Nah, unknown number,' Australia cancelled the call, 'always happens when I go abroad. Instant spam calls.'

'I don't get those,' Zee unhappily plonked their bag back on top of their suitcase, 'You must be up to nefarious activities.'

'Always.' Australia put his phone away and hopped from one foot to the other, 'Okay, fuck it, I'm going back inside.'

'Matt will be here in a minute.'

'Yeah, a minute too long and I want to keep my toes, thanks,' Australia nudged Zee in the side with his elbow, 'Come on, we can get some chips.'

Zee raised an eyebrow, 'What's the point? We'll be eating lunch almost as soon as we get to Dad's.'

'Not if he's off gallivanting about somewhere we won't.' Australia shook his head, 'You know what? This has actually kinda ticked me off. Can you imagine the reaction if we had done this to him? He would chew our ears off if we left him stranded at an airport.'

'Yours maybe,' Zee muttered under their breath, 'To be fair, we could have called Matt sooner.'

'Yeah, but we trusted that Dad would pull through and turn up eventually.' Australia also hadn't wanted to suffer through what would have happened if England had turned up, only to find out that they doubted his ability to do so. His ears hurt just thinking about it.

'This is hardly usual though, is it.' Zee raised an eyebrow, 'Why are you all pissed off? Dad's obviously not done this on purpose; he's never done this before. He might have crashed into a tree somewhere for all we know.'

'Shit yeah, I know. I just want to vent, don't make me feel guilty.' No matter what method of transport he was using and no matter what else was going on at the time, their father could be counted upon to be exactly where he said he was going to be at the exact time he promised. He had always been there to receive or see any of them off and him not being here now was more than unusual.

'Ohhhh hang on,' Zee gave Australia a knowing look, 'I see what this is really about. You're in a rush.'

Australia's cheeks flushed hot, 'No.'

'Yes.' Zee looked far too smug, 'You want to go shopping.'

'No! No way, I'm just cold and tired and I want to get back.'

'Are you going to sleep when you get back? You going to relax and chill and chat with everyone?' Zee's smirk grew sharp, 'Or were you planning on going for a walk?'

'Alright, fine. I was.' Australia grumbled into his collar, 'Your accent makes you sound like a right cunt, you know that?'

'Yes.'

'Besides, you said you'd help me find something.'

'Oh I'll help, but I was planning on at least having a sit down first. Maybe talk to our family before we lie and sneak away from them.'

'Alright alright, enough already. You got me and I feel bad, happy?'

'Very much so.'

Quick and quiet beep caught their attention and drew it to a familiar looking car, Canada smiling behind the wheel of England's beaten up mini he refused to get rid of.

'Thank fuck.' Australia waved eagerly before hauling his suitcase away from the wall, Zee following closely behind. Canada pulled the car to a stop by the pick up point and Zee and Australia hurried to catch up.

'Hi!' Canada took Zee's suitcase before taking them in for a hug, bending down to fit them properly, 'Good flight?'

'Australia was there so it wasn't the best.'

'Ha ha,' Australia allowed Zee to give his arm a friendly squeeze of apology and then gave his elder brother a bone crushing hug of his own, 'I'm so pissing happy to see you, you have no idea.'

Canada laughed in his ear, 'Merry Christmas to you too. I'm guessing that you're more than ready to go?'

'Fuck yeah!' Australia hefted his suitcase into the car before doing the same to New Zealand's, 'Oh, actually...'

There must have been something in his tone, or maybe Canada just had an older sibling knack for smelling out something that wasn't quite right after so many years of practise. Either way, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, 'What?'

----

'Can we swing by a town first?'

Part 5

AN:

Should I be writing this? No. Do I have other things to write? Very much yes. But this series is giving me brain rot and I can’t stop thinking about it, so thank you all for bearing with me orz.

And WY, Wy should also be here. If Sealand is here Wy should be too and I am a dumbdumb for forgetting her entirely. When this is finished and polished on A03, maybe I’ll sneak her in

Thank you all for reading and for leaving me such lovely comments or tags, I’m very happy you’re all enjoying this nonsense ;u;

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me

Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.

Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*＾-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”

sweet jesus lord

this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord

holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue

fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees

anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last

well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine

nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant

man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm

like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??

also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still

wait what? Death Arms retired??

Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you

...okay but holy fuck

Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance

(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.

seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)

anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more

“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit

fine. it is a nice pun, I guess

-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid

-- like, yes!! this, right here!!

exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much

huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol

I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then

anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing

SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ

SHOUTO?????

NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME

OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long

Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love

now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might

ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG

so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG

JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO

shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues

-- the angst arc continues, SIR

jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor

holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I’ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually

DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!

lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE

OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD

NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY

shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god

DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????

holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that’s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me

and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most

-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS

I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS

(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)

wait, what???

WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?

-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol

oh my god I cannot

his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here

YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK

nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that

(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.

what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.

Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.

and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??

what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.

everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.

but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.

and he’s alone. again.)

I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair

fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up

I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was

HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING

Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up

oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god

THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus

omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao

anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY