#i realize no matter what I do I’m gonna have to destroy someone’s chin for Kim and I’m okay with that

[silanb]

Alright I need the very niche few of you who have these overlapping interests to aide me here.

I want, very badly, to make Disco Elysium Kim and Harry doll customs. Of course I’m running into a huge problem with this which is: their tragically unique face shapes and stylized proportions. Both face and body.

Typically when I do male doll repaints I use BTS dolls (bc I like their slightly larger than Barbie proportions) or the new Disney ILY dolls, and on occasion make minor sculpting edits to feminine face sculpts to suit my needs. This works for most of what I’ve done (ocs, the mandalorian, stuff like that) but I’m in a corner here. I have several options but none are great.

- I could use one of the two that I usually do and make some large alterations and pray for the best. If I choose to do that I’m going to have to find decent base dolls which I don’t doubt I can do. Pros are it’s within my comfort level, cons are it’s very limited.

- Monster/Ever after high. They have very stylized sculpts but their proportions are just a bit *too* much in terms of my preference. So I could shrink some monster high high heads and go from there. Pros are it’s also familiar and closer to the stylization I need, cons are shrunken heads are more difficult to work with and risk breaking to achieve the size I want.

- Third option is to sculpt and print/cast unique face molds, which is not a prospect I’m excited about but is something I am feasibly capable of. Pros is I can guarantee the most accuracy with the least need to make alterations, cons are I have very minimal experience with this so I have to fucking LEARN shit while also asking for a favor to print/mold/cast/whatever the final results.

-secret fourth option where someone smarter than me knows a doll that would make the perfect base

TL:DR I want to make Kim and Harry dolls but I need ideas on what base to use. If anyone knows some specific doll brands or characters that work well for the characters or have any advice/input on the matter pls hmu! I am unfortunately dedicated to this project.

[hoesheez]

The Summit…

Choi San/AFAB Reader

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, violence and blood

A/N: mountain mountain i fucked up on the mountain-or whatever skz said 🤭 this one is short and hopefully sweet for the sweetest boy San hehe 🙂‍↕️ i think we can all agree its what he deserves ❤️ also i think he was in a ballroom what with the chandeliers? not that it matters but i think they all had a respective room in the mansion to destroy? but yeah hope you enjoy!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

You hurried to the mansion described in a hastily written note left on your desk by San. He must have snuck in late and left it in hopes you’d see it when you woke up.

As you entered the large abandoned building, Hongjoong walked up to you. “He’s in the ballroom, try not to take too long, yeah? This place is going up in flames very soon.” he said with his usual devilish grin.

You headed in the direction he pointed to, desperately needing to find San as soon as you could to tell him everything you were feeling before it was too late.

You could already see him through one of the broken doors as you turned the corner. His muscular back exposed above the fur coat that hung loosely on his elbows. As the glass and debris crunched under your feet he turned to look at you, his dimpled smile appearing and making your heart flutter.

His tanned skin seemed to almost glow under the dim chandelier light as he walked towards you. You drank in every beautiful detail of him. His slicked back hair with small pieces sticking out that framed his forehead. His tight leather pants that hugged his well defined body that he so painstakingly crafted through years of working out. And the oh so well defined outline of his abs, chest and sharp jawline.

“You actually showed up,” he said with a smile as he adjusted the fur to rest on his shoulders properly. You swallowed hard, his soft clove scent intoxicating you like so many previous encounters. “Of course I did, you practically ran off after that kiss, that really hurt you know. Should’ve known better than to get involved with a damn fugitive.” you slapped yourself mentally for how stupid you must have sounded. He just chuckled and moved closer, knowing he needed to apologize for that.

Honestly? You probably should have realized months ago in the snack isle of the grocery store what kind of man he was. Standing there with a busted lip and tattered clothes. The friend he was with had walked off saying something about getting drinks. He looked confused, his lip dripping blood down his chin and onto his shirt. You hesitated before telling him, but only for a moment. “Hey, you’re bleeding.” your voice coming out alot quieter than you had wanted. He turned to you, his beat up face now more visible. You hurried closer to him, “God you’re all beat up, are you okay?!” you reached into your bag and pulled out a clean handkerchief. You dabbed at the blood, a horrible idea considering he was a stranger and who knows if he had something, but your wanting to help someone in need overtook your doubt.

He looked at where you cleaned his chin, your hands then moving to tug at his shirt. “That’s gonna stain but,” your hands moved to the large hole at his side, “I guess that doesn’t really matter.” you said under your breath.

“I’m San.” his deep voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Oh uhm, hello San I’m Y/n.” you said with a laugh, your face flushing once you saw his deeply dimpled smile. “Here, in case it starts bleeding again.” you said as you handed him the fabric.

Once he took it in his hand, you now saw his bruised and bloodied knuckles. “Thanks.” he said and held it at one of the wounds on his hand that had split open. “It’s none of my business but, maybe you should go to the hospital?” He scoffed at your suggestion, “I’ll be fine, thanks for your help.”

His friend from before walked up, his very intense resting bitch face not changing upon seeing you. “Let’s go. Can’t waste too much time here, there’s cameras.” he whispered the last part but your ears caught it. San grabbed two bags of the chips he was staring at before you interrupted him and smiled at you. “Goodbye Y/n” he said with a wave and his friend pulled him away. You heard him silently chastising him as they walked off while San just laughed hard.

Later that night while you made dinner, you overheard the news saying there were currently 8 men on the run in the city. You went to fix your eyes on the TV screen and your heart sank when you recognized one of them as San. Had you come into contact with a wanted criminal?! You thought twice about calling the advertised hotline though, knowing there was always more to the story than the media portrayed. You went to bed that night, hoping you’d never have to see him again. But, the next day as you left for work, you saw him outside of your building. He was waiting for you, your now spotless handkerchief in his extended hand.

You stepped back cautiously causing him to sign in realization of how he must look right now. “Sorry I just, wanted to give this back.” You didn’t move closer to him though, even after he extended out his hand further towards you. He was now in much nicer clothes, black slacks and a pressed white button up. His hair was slicked back and you took in his features for the first time, completely mesmerized by him if you were being completely honest.

“Did you follow me?” you asked moving closer, trusting his calm body language. You finally took back the handkerchief. He nodded, “Only cause the boss insisted, wanted to make sure you wouldn’t say anything.” You raised your brow, “Thought it was to give back this and thank me?” you teased as you waved the white fabric in front of him. He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m inclined to ask you, if you do plan on saying anything?”

You moved back with a giggle, catching another one of those deeply dimpled smiles. “I’m not so sure now, after the news report I saw last night.” His smile faded, his eyes fixed on you as he inched closer. “You already would have, if you really wanted to.” He caught your bluff, laughing as you pressed your lips together in defiance.

“Thanks again, not many people like you left in this godforsaken city,” he said with spite. “You’re welcome, and thanks for bringing this back.” you said softly as you stuffed the hanky into your bag. “Even if you did stalk me to do it.” He chuckled, “If you knew my boss, you’d follow his every order too.”

You sighed, “You in some kind of gang?” Your question was genuinely out of curiosity, but you knew people didn’t normally ask so bluntly like that. “No, we’re more of a family.” he said and you cocked your head to the side.

“That sounds exactly like what someone in a gang would say.” you said plainly and gasped suddenly as the bus you rode to work sped by the two of you. “Shit that’s my bus! Gotta go!” you yelped as you ran off like a bat out of hell.

He watched as the bus didn’t slow down, despite you clearly running after it. You wailed at the passing bus about how you were going to be late, your chest heaving to catch your breath. San had walked up to you in your frenzy, “I can take you, if you don’t mind.”

Despite your gut instinct, you took his offer, sitting very closely to the door in case you needed to jump out if he tried anything strange. The two of you sat in the back of the car, its all black interior sleek and luxurious compared to any other car you’ve ever been in. “Oh boy, now you’re gonna know where I work, too.” San chuckled as the driver finally pulled up to your office building. “We already know where you work.” he said cooly, earning a wide eyed look from you.

Once the car was stopped the driver quickly got out to open the door for you. “Oh, thank you.” you said politely and he simply nodded, waiting to close the door as San slipped out behind you. He stared at the large building, almost as if he was surveying it.

“Oh god, this isn’t one of those, you’re my new boss type things, is it?” He looked over at you, “Why? Do you want me to be?” You don’t know why your heart fluttered at that but it did. The birth of a new kink perhaps?

“No, I don’t work here, just making sure you get in safe.” You nodded and began to walk off, “Well thanks for the ride. Consider us even, I guess.” You didn’t realize your choice of words in that moment, but they’d have an impact on him that would start the beginning of something incredible.

“You guess? This your way of saying you wanna see me again?” he asked with that same damn smile. You went hot, your knees wobbling only a little at the thought. He took your silence as the answer he was sure the both of you wanted. “Let me treat you to dinner sometime?”

Dinner? With a wanted criminal? You had to really think about it. But admittedly, not for very long. “Sure. Maybe. We’ll see.” you answered and he just nodded. “Alright! Don’t worry, I know where to find you.” he said with one last smile before getting back in the car.

After that, he did in fact find you. In more ways than just your location. The two of you spent alot of time together after that wonderful dinner. Quiet dates at not very popular places as to not raise suspicion. Staying up late talking for hours in your home. He even cooked dinner for you one night, the food being delightfully edible considering he complained about it not coming out well. You soon came to realize that you craved his presence. Having him in your home was comforting, even just platonically.

That is until one night, sitting on the steps of your apartment building, when you finally made a move to kiss him. You had moved closer once you felt his hand on your waist, taking it as his first move. You had fallen for him hard, and it was so easy too, considering he was one of the kindest and gentlest people you’d ever met.

He pulled away first, almost as if he had some kind of realization. “Getting involved with me isn’t wise, sweetheart.” his voice was soft as he held your face. “Why? I still don’t even know why you’re wanted- god I don’t even think I really care!” you said turning away from him, embarrassed after admitting that to yourself for the first time.

“Me and my team, we’re here to take down Z.”

And since that long explanation that night, he hadn’t come back to see you. You were lonely once again, losing his presence had hurt you so badly. So when you saw his note, you were determined to tell him exactly how you felt.

“Yet here you are, with that same fugitive.” he said as one of his hands went to rest on his waist while the other adjusted his bulge. The tight leather pants he wore molded so perfectly to his body that they left nothing to the imagination. Your eyes couldn’t look away as his perfect form moved closer.

“What do you want? You ask me here to embarrass me again?” your voice cracked towards the end, the emotions being too much to bear.

It was silent for a few seconds before he answered. “I wanted to say sorry, I shouldn’t have left like that but,” he took your hands in his, “I just didn’t want anyone to hurt you ‘cause of me.” You felt your tears start to fall, the warmth of them contrasted by the cold of the room. “But you ended up being the one to hurt me San.” you said as he moved his hands to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “I know, I’m sorry sweetheart.” he said before moving in to kiss you.

The feeling of him being this close to you after months was exhilarating. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you closer. His hands went to your rear, wasting no time in sliding under your skirt to squeeze your ass. He moaned into the kiss as your hands began to trail downwards, just palming at his hardening length was enough to make him crazy.

He pulled away in a huff, “There’s something else,” his voice was low, his head tilting quickly as he sucked his teeth. You felt him squeeze your sides tighter, “What is it San? Just tell me.” you said through swollen lips. “Tonight is, our last stand against Z.” You could tell he was hurting, his eyes quickly darted away from yours, threatening to tear up. “we’ll be fighting to our deaths after we burn this place down.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your head going down to avoid his eyes once what he said settled in. “Oh, I see.” you said and rested your head against his chest.

“I’m happy I got to meet you, despite everything.” his hand moved to rub your head, “My only light in the darkness of this city.” You only cried harder at his words, holding him tighter and not wanting to let him go. You didn’t care if the house burned with the two of you inside at this point, if it meant you could stay in his embrace.

“San…” you said against his chest. “Yes?” his voice was soft as he held you tightly. “Please, just stay with me, you don’t have to do this.” You knew your words wouldn’t stop him, but you felt it in your heart to ask regardless. He looked at your teary eyes, unable to answer. He’d never give up in fighting Z, despite falling in love with you. And you both knew that.

He simply leaned in to meet your lips once again, leading the kiss into a very passionate and desperate frenzy. His strong hands trailed down your sides, quickly cupping you rear to lift you up. He didn’t once break away from your sweet mouth as he walked you back against a nearby wall. “San,” you huffed against his lips, licking at them with need. “I know baby,” he said before latching onto your neck, sucking hard against your heated skin.

His hands moved to your front, fingers deftly dipping into your underwear. A whimper escaped his throat as he pushed against your wet folds. “Hold on.” You said his fingers slipping out of you and his weight shifting to let you onto your feet. You pulled down your underwear, letting them fall down and hang from one ankle as he lifted you back up against the wall.

He had undid his pants and pulled himself from his boxers, his hard dick now sliding against you only briefly before pushing completely into you. You moaned at the stretch, looking at him with sultry eyes as you bit your bottom lip. “Too bad our first time is also our last time, huh?” he asked with a smile, accepting his fate as. you gripped at his beck. He growled as you bared down around him, “It’s tragic really,” you said before kissing him hard.

His hips snapped against you, his breath hitching every time he plunged back into you. You watched him as he worked, wiping the sweat from his brow as you moaned out. “Fuck, let me ride you, please.” You barely finished your sentence before he helped you onto your feet and eagerly layed down on the dirty floor. You didn’t waste any time in getting on top of him, his member still hard and needy. Your hands graciously massaged the expanse of his chest and abs, unable to hold back a smile at how happy he made you. The dust and debris dug into your knees as you bounced on him greedily.

He was downright pussy drunk at this point, moaning and praising you as his hands gripped you tight. “Fuck, I’m sorry baby, so fucking sorry.” His voice was hoarse as he pumped into you, meeting your movements chaotically. The two of you fucked desperately, both chasing your climaxes as your hearts sank at the inevitable parting of your bodies.

Every nerve in your body was firing as he hit your spot every time he pumped back in, your legs weak from riding. Your moan sounded like a scream in the echoey room as your orgasm finally washed over you.

You leaned down, kissing him weakly still bared down on his dick as he fucked into you faster and harder. He constantly kept whispering out “I’m sorry” and “I love you” against your lips, his hips stuttering as he came into you hard. Your hands had moved to either side of his head as your body gave out, “I hate you so much.” You lied through your tears, knowing that you were deeply, if not madly, in love with him. But saying it now didn’t matter. It would hurt far too much. And it wouldn’t change a damn thing.

There was a cough from the far side of the room, causing you to jerk upwards. San held your hips down, not caring who it was as your wet cunt warmed his cock deliciously. “Sorry to interrupt but, the boss says it’s time.” Jongho said and left as quickly as he appeared.

The two of you soon exited the building, hand in hand, an empty gas can in sans other hand after he doused the ball room in gasoline. You looked around to see the others waiting and you ignored the whispers of the other men once San started talking to them, not caring what they might have heard or seen as you headed off away from the house.

You watched as they made quick work of soaking the front of the building in gas, and setting it ablaze. The eight of them stood in from of the flames, the heat licking their skin as they all came to terms with their fates together. They all headed to their respective vehicles, San beckoning you over to his, sweetly saying he’d drive you home.

San held your hand the whole drive back, softly rubbing your skin with his thumb as he talked to Wooyoung. The two of you didn’t need to say anything to one another, it’d be too sad and pointless anyway. He got out to open the door for you once the car stopped in front of your building. You were reminded of the day he dropped you off at work and you wished more than anything to be back during that time as you held back your tears.

“Well uh, thanks for coming. I mean ugh! Shit, you know what I-“ he said awkwardly before you cut him off with your lips, pouring all the love you had for him into the kiss. “Goodbye San.” He pulled you back to him and kissed you one last tine hopelessly, sad and hating the fact that this was the fate of your brief relationship. “Goodbye Y/n” he pulled away and turned from you, not once looking back as he headed to the waiting car.

Your life went back to normal after that. Well, about as normal as it could be after that whole intense ordeal. It didn’t get any better when you watched the news and the eight members of Ateez were confirmed dead after their standoff with Z and his followers. In better news however, Z didn’t make it out either. The news clips had showed his beheaded body briefly before quickly blurring it out and cutting the live footage. At least there was a silver lining, despite it being very thin and dull.

As you slept, you dreamt of San. His strong arms holding you, his soft lips kissing down your body. You could almost feel him too, his presence close like it usually was whenever he was in your home. You woke up in a huff, breathing heavy and looking around, hoping what you felt in your dream was real.

But he wasn’t there, and your tears finally fell upon realizing you’d never see him again. A sudden tap at your window broke you free from your thoughts, the sound scaring you for only a second before a wave of relief washed over you, knowing that pattern of taps as San’s. You quickly opened the window upon seeing him on your fire escape, just as beaten up as the first day you met him.

“You idiot!” you said before pulling him in by his collar. He chuckled as he got to his feet inside your warm home, ���Thought you’d be happier to see me.” His hands were cold as they cupped your face, his nose just as cold as he nuzzled it against yours. “I would be if you weren’t all beaten up again.”you squeaked out before you started crying into his chest.

“I’m fine, I promise.” He said and kissed your forehead. “Can’t say the same for Z though.” You looked at him through tears, “Were you the one who decapitated him?” He shook his head with a laugh, “Nah, I’d never take that privilege from the boss.” He moved away from you, sitting down in a nearby chair and letting out the heaviest breath. His adrenaline rush subsided and the reality of his painful body hit him.

“Well, what now?” you asked as you went off to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. “Now, we rest.” He sounded bone tired, taking the glass you offered and gulping down the water quickly. You watched him, your arms crossing over your chest. “Won’t they figure out that those bodies weren’t yours though?” He placed the glass down on the TV console next to him before he stood up to face you. “Yeah that’s why I’m here, to take you with me.” He smiled as he took your hands in his. Had it been anyone else, at any other time, you’d probably protest. You’d definitely say no. But it was San, the love of your life. So you immediately got a bag and stuffed it with some clothes and your most important things that could fit inside. “Lets go then!”

He helped you down the fire escape, kissing you softly when you finally got down onto the ground safely. “You sure about this? Really?” he asked as the two of you hurried to the car. “I love you San, of course I’m sure.” You pulled him close into a loving hug, the man before you sighing with relief as he held you. “I love you too.”

A/N: man oh man do i love climbing mountains 🤭🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ he looked WAY too good in the mv i couldn’t NOT write something hehe also this has something to do with the lore right? not the smut, but the mv? its got something to do with Z and the lore it just HAS to 🥴

[yanderenightmare]

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncon, profanity, abuse, anger issues, anxiety, arson, bullying, child neglect, child abuse, drugs, addiction, anorexia, guilt, pills, unprotected sex, stalking, trauma

TIP-JAR

PART ONE 

IN CASE OF FIRE: PUSH ALARM - PART TWO

IN THE TRAILER

She ran away from him in the hallway.

He’d warned her of what would happen if she did.

Knowing it was a matter of when as the next day he was left waiting, grazing the halls of where she’d left him with a kicked ball-sack on the dirty school-floors, all lovesick and frenzied with fire ants raging over his skin and a manic promise that one way or the other he’d get her. Lying in suspenseful spiteful wait to tell everyone what type of slut the little spitball in class 3c General Studies really was.

But, timing was everything, and as the day went by without him spotting her he realized the opportunity to ruin her reputation in school wasn’t going to rear its head.

She was home… 

Sick.

Or, that’s what she’d told the school. One quick question at the reception told him so.

She was home. 

Home in that run-down trailer-park sorry-excuse for a home she despised, the one she cried about so often, the one with neighbours who didn’t give two shits worth a damn about who she was or that her mother was a crackhead-whore in no position to take care of her. 

She was there instead of at school begging him to stop, begging for him to give her a second chance, begging him to kiss her, like she was supposed to do.

Standing outside her trailer, he wondered if whether her mom was home or not. He wondered if either one of her neighbours would care if they saw him break in, if it even was considered breaking in.

He spotted her mother slouched on a beach-chair beside some other trailer with a needle still stuck to her arm, ugly destroyed skin sizzling in the summer-heat, mouldy flip-flops sticking to her feet. 

He cringed at the sight of it, but knew then that his pursuit would go on unprovoked, which at the very least brought him some sense of relief.

She’d gotten in through scholarship as she in no form or way could afford a school like UA. That much was clear, unlike how unclear the crystal-meth shards decorating the plastic salon-table placed on the outside of their van was. 

She transferred half-way through the first year, all on the account of pure hard work.

He could respect that. 

He did respect that. Given she was quirkless and all. It was the reason she’d caught his eye.

It all went sideways when she rejected his invitation to Homecoming.

He’d already gone miles away out of his comfort-zone, out of his element, talked himself into asking her out, only for her to turn him down.

Him.

Best student in Hero-course 1A at the time.

Rejected.

He knew it was petty of him to bully her because of it, but… she didn’t only make a fool out of him, she broke his fucking heart.

He could have listened to Kiri, and tried to forget about her through some other extra, but... he wanted her. He’d decided. She was his. And a quirkless trailer-rat like her was in no position to just say no.

In some sick sense he believed she deserved better. Him being better. But, he would like for her to ask for his help, instead of him just giving it to her. He would like to see her grovel, beg, just a little bit, or a lot. He wanted to see her regret her decision. He wanted to see her sorry. He wanted to see her want him as much as he wanted her. And he wanted it to be her who initiated it.

But… he could see that wasn’t happening. He could see that his unorthodox methods of courting her through continuously trying to bend her until she broke only consisted of her rewinding or snapping back like a rubber-band.

She was distracted, too busy being broken by what life had given her, too busy with juggling different shifts, bills, schoolwork, to be thinking about him and how he pushed her around a bit at school.

He eyed the cracked paint of the faded trailer with much the look of a snob on his face. Fingers brushing over the door-handle, testing how much noise it would make if he were to pick the lock, coming to a complete loss. 

He could barely believe it… the door was unlocked, and when he stepped inside he was even more distraught to see there was no existing lock there to be locked in the first place. 

Meanwhile her mother was too busy slowly dying to better protect her daughter from depraved humans who could come and do just about anything they wanted with her.

Meaning… just look at him.

Soft snores brought him back to where he was once he closed the door behind him. Making the short way to the source of the groggy sounds, feeling his stomach flutter at the thought of how wrong it was of him to be there, sneaking about like some love-obsessed sick stalker, getting turned on by hearing his prey sleep.

What the fuck was wrong with him? 

And why didn’t he care enough to stop?

He stood at the foot of her bed, hands in the pockets of his trousers, head tilted to the side to view her sleeping frame.

Sleeping on top of the covers, not under.

He doubted it was because of the heat, the same way he doubted the mattress beneath was clean.

She was curled onto her side, knees bent and tucked up. Cute with that teddy-bear she used as a pillow, silly and stupid but cute because of it, especially in her uniform despite having left the tie and blazer off.

She was wearing her uniform.

Meaning... she’d either gone to bed with her clothes on and slept through the entire day, or she had planned on going to school this morning, but weaseled her way out like the weakly coward she was.

Well, in that case… what he was about to do would serve her right then...

Ought to teach her lesson.

He lifted his hand out of his pocket, producing a finger to poke her ankle softly, before stroking up a path alongside her socks, all four other digits joining in the stride before the fabric came to an end and his callous fingertips glided onto the doughy flesh of her leg, over the dome of her knee and onto her even softer thigh, coming to the edge of her skirt.

He always liked her in that skirt. 

That’s where his mind was at as he started lifting to see what underwear she was wearing, yet never getting that far as something sharp dug into each side of his wrist.

Her nails weren’t of course any close to lethal, yet managed to surprise him as she whipped around to meet him, digging the talons into his roughened skin.

She might not have prioritized figuring out who it was that was currently touching her in her bed, but she had assessed the situation enough to know that someone was in fact in her house and touching her, something of which is not a good omen when you live where she lived, nor in any other situation for that matter.

He tried subduing the splash of struggles that followed her awakening by climbing and crawling some further up on the bed in order to control what myriad of flailing limbs came at him. 

Soon, hands that had primly started clawing at him were safely locked in his much larger hands.

“Oi, relax! It’s just me!”

As if it being him would have any other effect than of rising her already racing heartbeats. Yet, even as her lungs heaved for as much air as her tight chest would allow her, he managed to capture her focus, her hands pinned to each side of her head whereas her feet were stopped amidst their kicking, crushed beneath the weight of the much stronger, much more encompassing mass and weight of Katsuki’s legs.

He hunched over her, back arching with his face a mere half-foot away from her own, the only thing supporting his upper-body being his arms, which were stretched out and grasping at her wrists, pushing them into her pillow.

Her eyes were large with craze-ridden fear as they locked with his recognizable carmine ones. 

“Bakugo?” 

Shocked and scared, with the creeping feeling of anticipation waving over her again, now all for different reasons then when she first understood there was an intruder in her caravan. 

Somehow, it being Bakugo gave her an even starker unsettling eerie feeling than if it had been a total stranger. Maybe because oblivion is bliss and knowing what is to come makes the inevitable that much more inescapable. 

Still, she demanded he tell her, even though she thought she might already know the answer. 

“What are you doing? Why are you here!?”

“You weren’t at school.” He stated, spoken as though it preforming as explanation enough, though serving as far from it to the girl beneath him, the confusion shown in the way she scrunched her brows together.

He noticed, contemplating whether or not he should make his reasons known, but deciding against it and for playing with her for just a little while longer.

“I thought, since you managed to wiggle your way out of your punishment at school, I’d bring the punishment to you.” 

He searched her features for any cracks in her composure, but though she looked beyond uncomfortable, she made no moves to push him off.

Her eyes squinted instead, narrowing at him. 

“I’m not scared of you, Bakugo. I know you’re not gonna hurt me.” 

Her body started twisting under him. The action far from vigorous, mainly meant to show her discomfort as she knew she wouldn’t go anywhere unless Katsuki decided she could.

And though the intention to her wiggling was not to evoke his arousal, it most certainly managed to do just that.

He inhaled sharply and she felt her body freeze up, seize at the feel of his hips making a shift to slot himself against her, grinding down onto her flattened and unmoving body.

“Hurt you?” 

He let out a low rumble of a laugh, like building thunder. 

“Who said anything about hurting you?”

Her breath strained as his eyes scrunched closed upon her jerking, his own teeth sinking into his bottom-lip to maintain the hiss on his tongue at the pull in his pants, his head descending to nuzzle against her chest, spiky hair poking at her chin. 

Mouth breathing hot breaths onto her ear, causing her to whimper.

“Thought you just said you weren't scared?”

She swallowed thickly, improperly giving his rhetorical question an answer, feeling her wrists go numb under his hold and her blood running cold.

“Bakugo…?” 

He didn’t answer and she felt herself go even more rigid at the absence of his voice.

It wasn’t often Katsuki didn’t speak back to her when she willingly spoke to him. In fact, it was never. But now, he was quiet, too quiet, making the frightening rugged sound of his heavy breathing overwhelm her ears, dulling her senses in the process before everything being sent into hyperdrive upon the feeling of his hand leaving her one wrist to cup her breast outside her shirt, giving the mound a careful and slow yet full squeeze.

She yelped at the sudden attack, her body jumping up against him, making yet another teasingly harsh contact with his clothed cock.

This time he hissed, both upon her delicious little struggles but also because her newly freed hand had actively made the decision to pull his hair as a desperate means of making him move.

It worked to some extent, at least in freeing her other hand which opened for the opportunity to drag herself out from beneath him. 

Yet, the action was stopped in a series of rather clumsy fighting, where Bakugo managed to retract the upper-hand once again, pinning both her wrists with one hand whilst tugging loose his tie with the other. 

He’d slotted himself between her legs now, her skirt spreading and hiking up her thighs as she struggled to stop him from tying her wrists together and fasting them to the handicap-bar mounted on the side of the bed, yet failing.

Her body free for him to touch now, to tamper and play with, and she felt her heart catch in her throat, small pleas coming erupting from the place because of it, but he didn’t seem to hear her, and if he did, he was electing to ignore the pitiful sounds.

His hands traveled down her sides, thumbs rubbing over the scratchy material, the fabric of her shirt stiff as a result of using dollar-store laundry detergent.

White shirt; made up of thin fabric to make the fight against the Tokyo-heat easier, yet resulting in it being so temptingly easy to make see-through with just a little spill of water. Water Katsuki was always so eager to pour, either with light teasing spritzes from his water-bottle or in carrying her over his shoulder into the showers and holding her there as the water rained down upon her, drenching both her and himself, then offering ever so mockingly if she would like to borrow a shirt, because unlike her he had a dorm-room with fresh and dry clothes, whereas she only had that one uniform and all other clothes made up of more holes than actual textile.

He chuckled at the memories as his fingers moved up-front and centre to tamper with the buttons.

“I bet you just hate this uniform, don’t yah?” His voice, although maintaining the snicker, was soft. Not loud and abrasive and rushed, but as though he was enjoying himself, thoroughly at that, drinking in the moment.

His movements too, were slow; careful.

Large warm hands stroking down the bare skin of her stomach, feeling the tremors as he did so, with eyes glued to those perfect mounds found beneath what looked like a well-worn sports-bra, making him wonder what she’d look like if he were to dress her up in expensive red lace. She’d be mouthwatering to look at either way, and breasts are just as soft whichever way they’re dressed… it’s not like the bra is staying on for too long anyway.

He swallowed thickly to stop his mouth from dripping.

He tucked her shirt out from her skirt, taking a moment to grip her midriff and squeeze to try and ease her struggling. 

It only resulted in her thrashing even more, whirlwinds of panicked get-off-me’s and fuck-you’s and stop’s spilling from her mouth in rapids, but the plead seemed to repel off Bakugo’s ears like water off a ducks back where the desperation only aided in satiating his sick sadism, in the same fashion tears fell from her eyes aided in making his stomach churn or flutter with something he could only describe as bliss, her arms trying to the best of their efforts at tugging at her bonds, to no avail except for making the skin found their chaffed and sore.

He spent a few seconds deciding whether he wanted the skirt on or off as he felt up the fabric between his fingers, more memories flushing his mind with such sweet and potent nostalgia of him lifting up the short excuse for coverage in the school-halls every day to sneak a peak at her underwear, or those times he would bend her over classroom-desks and push his bulge where it would fit so snuggly against her ass.

“Kinda feels like this skirt gets shorter and shorter for each year...” He mused, stroking up the skin of her thighs, lifting the fabric in the process, revealing a pair of black cotton boxers which, despite being lackluster, forced a groan to rumble from his chest.

The fuck-you’s had turned to please’s and the change made a smirk curl onto his lips as he put his lips to the inside of her thigh before pulling away to look down at her, all spread open and quivering for him. 

Breasts all perfect, squished together in the comfort of her bra, hair splayed on top of the pillow, her nose turning all red and adorable with her eyes brimming with both panic and tears.

Her skin felt so soft and untouched beneath his fingertips as he stroked up and down her thighs, pulling them towards him, as far as the bonds on her wrists would allow, slightly struggling with how much the panic had taken a hold of her, her legs kicking and flailing.

But he liked it that way. 

Messy and desperate.

“Don’t be difficult, Quirkless, you’re not getting out of this.” He spoke so calmly, so collected and controlled and determined. As though he wasn’t doing anything wrong, as though this was his right. “This is the only thing you’re any good for anyways.”

He leveled with her clothed little sex, slung her legs over his shoulders, watched as she squirmed upon his breath, heard her whimper and plead with his name as he stuck his tongue into the fabric, her legs doing a little involuntary kick while her thighs where firmly secured in his hands.

“Worthless quirkless little pussy on legs.”

She sobbed as his fingers latched around the ribbon of her underwear, pulling, tearing the fabric, with no need to pull it down her legs, just a need to pull them off.

A content and knowing smile made its way onto his lips, yet she was unable to see it in her position, something of which she was thankful for, or… as thankful as one can be when being defiled by a friend. 

Not that Bakugo was much of a friend anymore, but he had been, at some point before he'd offered more than one concerning opinion about quirkless people and their place in the world.

Of her place in the world.

He didn’t share her nostalgia though, not when the future was smiling at him with the face of her shaven warm pussy right in front of him.

“Did you get yourself all nice and ready for me? Huh? Knew I was coming?” He teased as she shook her head sporadically, unable to form any type of words in her overwhelming embarrassment and fear and panic.

He grinned smugly, despite knowing it was due to her spot on the swimming-team she kept herself clean and hairless, also knowing that the only reason she took swimming-lessons was because she and her mom couldn’t afford the hot-water bill, making her take showers at school instead, and that a spot on the swimming-team gave her a free-ticket to using those showers anytime she wanted.

How many times had he snuck in there to watch her soap up her body?

How many times had he palmed his erection to the sight of her?

How much he’d wanted to waltz in and take her against the cold tiles, make steam roll off the walls, hearing her voice echo his name... 

Now he had the real deal though, no more time for fantasies.

She was smart, she was resourceful, but not enough to put a lock on her door.

She was lucky if one thought about it.

Lucky it wasn’t just any random guy who walked in and took her like Bakugo was going to take her.

Lucky it wasn’t just anyone’s tongue jutting out to lick up her spread folds.

Lucky it was Bakugo who was hugging her thighs close to him, using them as soft warm pillows as he nuzzled between them to lick and suck and bite at the little bundle of nerves found right there in front of him.

Lucky it was Bakugo that had her squirming and quaking and whimpering and crying. 

Because, taking everything into consideration, she was safe with him.

Safer than she would or even could be with anyone else for that matter.

Who else could really protect her like he could, like he will, like he has?

She should be grateful he still wants her after she rejected him, humiliated him like she did. She was sure going to pay for it tonight. But first, he could at least treat her to what she had been missing, especially when thinking of how much he was going to take from her before the day let up.

It almost made him feel bad.

Almost, being the keyword, because without it he wouldn’t have thought it funny how many noises she could make without alerting anyone from outside, how no one cared whether she blubbered out common sniveling protests and screams of his name, begging him to stop, or those equally loud yet scarce moans that sprung from her despite her not wanting them to, each time he sucked too hard or too harshly on her clit, teeth rubbing over the sensitive skin found there. Her hips dancing a panicked series of shimming from side to side, controlled in his grasp and only aiding in his tongue finding new places to lick and suck at as he laid abusive worship onto the temple between them. Nose bumping and dipping and rubbing onto places too tender as his mouth moved lower.

Her knees jolting as he kept them spread open, claws digging into the grabbable flesh each time she would pound the ball of her heel into his back, the movement always falling still upon the building simmering threat of explosions in his palms, pain much sharper than that of his nails.

She wanting nothing more but to wrench away, especially upon feeling the shameful treacherous dripping of herself down onto the bedsheets, disgusted with her body, humiliated beyond repair, with the tongue of Katsuki lapping up what mess he had made out of her, teeth from a grin gracing in feather-light motions, yet still managing to shoot electricity up her core. 

All she could do was pant and sob through moans and trying her best to force out more protests even though she knew it was to no use, until she felt him pull away, leaving her cold in loss of contact with heat. 

She doubted his removal was because she’d begged it from him.

Her doubts being answered as she heard the crisp clatter of a belt-buckle opening.

Her eyes were swimming, gifting her with more panic as she wasn’t even able to see what he was doing, yet knowing, again wishing she didn’t, wishing she was rather deaf as well as blind, wishing all her senses to simply give away, all so that she didn’t have to witness what she was surely soon going to have to be the victim of.

She heard the clothes dropping to the floor, looked up at him through bleary blurry eyes, still recognising the sandy nuance of his skin fully on display before her. 

His large hands found her knees again, prying them open. His hips fitting between her thighs.  

“Ba- ba- Baku- go,  plea- please, don’t- don’t… stop.” She choked on her tears, on her fear, on her panic, on the feeling of the cold breeze making her exposed sex shiver and beg for something warm to fill it up, on her disgust.

“Don’t stop?” He snickered, pinching her clit between his fingers, making her arch with a whine before trying to wrench away, yet stopped by his hands steadying on her knees, spreading her open for him.

His cock-head delved between her folds, and he had to catch a pathetic whimper from escaping his throat, settling for biting his lip instead and ridiculing the reason as to why he was feeling so weak in the first place. Growling at the little girl beneath him, all tied up and defenceless and hopeless and pathetic, but still able to make him feel so small.

“I knew you were just a stupid slut.”

It helped hearing her scream for him. 

It helped hearing her choke on her own gasps as he filled her tight little space up with the warm length of his cock. 

It helped feeling her squeeze and seize around the girth of him, hugging him close and tight, filling and stretching her out so nicely.

She had resorted to hectic crying, no words, no protests, just sobbing, hiccupping, coughing up her own cries. 

And, although he imagined himself growling and groaning he fell short of those guttural rusty sounds and fell prey to whimpering like a lovesick puppy humping a plushie-toy instead. 

His hands holding onto her hips as though letting go meant death as he rolled his hips into her, feeling her warm velvety walls welcome him home.

It felt so good he nearly barreled over, his face buried in her chest, hand coming up to enclose over her mouth as so to stop the cries and hear those soft muffled moans she made instead.

Small stifled broken wet mews spurred into his palm, as he kissed a trail up the valley of her chest and onto her neck, whispering with his breath shaky.

“If it makes you feel any better… this is my first time too.”

He didn’t know why he said it. Maybe because he was suddenly regretting his decision of being a monster, or maybe because the fright of being vulnerable disappeared at the feeling of conquering what made him afraid.

“I spread a rumour in second that I fucked Ururaka just to see your reaction.” He let out a breathy laugh, the open smile on his face indicated his nostalgia, as though it were a fond memory. “But you didn’t care at all did you?”

He snapped his hips forward, hitting something painful making her scream beneath his hand, opening it to hear her sob out in whimpers.

“Did you?!” It was accusatory and loud and right next to her ears, as he bared his teeth.

She was sure she was bleeding, feeling as though he was tearing her up, splitting her open, every harsh thrust felt deep within her abdomen, churning her guts.

“I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor- sorry!” She spluttered out, more thick gulps of tears streaking her cheeks with red.

“You know what I think?” 

He leaned in closer, his nose poking into her cheek, lips brushing her ear, hands now having moved to cup her knees, pushing them up into the bedsheets beside her shoulders, hiking her up to meet his sharp thrusts. 

“I think you wanted this…”

She shook her head as his grin gleamed from seeing her discomfort.

“Leaving your door unlocked like that, you were begging for this to happen.” He laughed, biting her earlobe, heavy balls clapping against her ass.

She sniveled. “You- you know we can’t afford-” She started, but was cut off by her own broken moan as Bakugo yet again made another sharp movement, sending an earth-shattering smack to fill the crammed space of her RV, and then again cut off by Bakugo’s own response.

“Yeah? But you could still afford that dress you wore to Homecoming couldn’t you?” He sounded crazed, upset and angry and obsessed with making her regret it. “When you went with that fucking extra instead of me?” 

His forehead pushed against hers, eyes a feral red and large with rage, watching in sadistic glee as she scrunched her eyes together in pain, trying to block his voice out from her head. 

“Yeah, I bet you’re sorry now.” He growled, again taking a break from his series of shallow thrusts to push deep into her, making her whine in wet agony. “That was the worst mistake of your life and you’re gonna make it up to me tonight.”

He pushed himself up, looking down at the crying mess he was buried inside, licking his lips.

She couldn’t stop apologising, as he fucked into her, her hands going numb under the bondage of his tie around her wrists. 

“I’m sorr- sorry-” She croaked, face burning from her tears.

“Yeah? You better be.”

He gathered her ankles in his hands, holding them up, one hand coming to roll her sock down her leg.

“You’re gonna be.”

His hand caressed her small bare-foot tightly, thumb digging into her sole, his mind drifting to how cute and tiny it was, smaller than his hand, and strangely soft for someone who chooses to walk everywhere to save money.

“I’m sorry-” She blubbered. “I’m- I’m sorry...” 

She struggled for breath between her apologies and cries, forgetting how to inhale as Bakugo’s cock crammed into her, stripping her lungs of their air.

He kissed the pad of her foot, before leaning down again, hands once more cupping her knees and pushing them against the mattress.

“Good.”

She quaked beneath his stare, his sharp teeth too close as she cringed at the wet creamy sloshing sound of his cock pounding into her.

She had to look away, wanting to twist to hide her face in her pillow and cry until he was done.

But he wouldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me when I fuck you.”

Gathering her face between his fingers, he scrunched her lips together as his own face closed in, his teeth coming to bite down on the vulnerable pout.

“You’re nothing without me, you understand that?”

One of his hands seized around her throat, adding slight pressure to accommodate his words.

“Good for nothing.” He spit. “Except for being my little slut, right?”

His claws scratched her throat, making her mewl and suck at her bitten bruised lip, tasting the metal.

“Come on, slut, I asked you a fucking question!”

Again, he angled his cock to jut into her painfully, making her gasp in strained pain at the stretch, followed by a sob.

“I’m just a slut-” She sniffled, eyes spiralling when looking into his unforgiving scarlet ones.

He smiled again, kissing her cheek.

“Who’s?”

The kiss became a lick, as he dragged his tongue up her tear-slicked cheek.

“Who’s slut?”

He felt her tremble and stiffen under his tongue, her eye’s squeezing shut.

“Your slut.” She answered, but it proved not to be good enough as another sharp painful thrust hit her core. “Bakugo’s slut.” 

She knew it was wrong the second she said it as a growl rumbled against her neck, his teeth gracing, scraping against her tender flesh. 

“Katsuki’s slut!” 

The words all broken and wet and beautiful coming from her bloated and reddened lips.

He placed a chaste kiss to her jaw, nibbling his way up to her mouth, whispering upon them. “Yeah, that’s right, you’re nothing without me.”

He kissed roughly, growling for her to kiss back, hand still tightly locked around her neck, begging for her to refuse him only for him to squeeze the life out of her.

His tongue pushed into her mouth as he slobbered and drooled above her, mouth sucking on her lips, trailing down her jaw and down her throat, nibbling and biting and lapping at her skin like some hound drooling over steak.

His hand left her throat to grasp her clothed breasts as he hit a particular spot, calling an unintentional bucking of her hips into him, making him groan in pleasure, his own thrusts gaining speed, hitting that same spot he now knew would make her unravel.

“You’re so lucky to get my cock.”

He worked himself into a taller position again, dragging himself off her chest to admire what artwork he’d made of her collar and chest.

“Say you love it.”

She shook her head, a petty begging-look on her face. 

It was a weak protest, almost enough to make him let it go, yet still outweighed by his need to make her pay.

His hips suddenly thrusting into her deeply, sharply, in all the ways he’d found out hurt.

She cried out. “No, no, Bakugo, please!” Panicked sobbing, her chest arching in pain, her legs coming to kick him off, yet were stopped as he pushed her knees into her chest. Jutting into her brutally.

“Say you love it and I’ll go slower.”

He saw her knuckles whiten at how hard she was balling her fists, tugging at her bonds desperately.

“I’ll fuck you good.” He promised, finding himself grow excited upon the thought. “Nice and slow like lovers do.” He had to snicker, even as she sobbed and hiccupped up screams that caught in her throat at his sharp thrusts, her eyes screwed tightly shut, allowing no tears to drop yet leaving them swimming in stinging salt.

His head dropped again to her temple, lips nibbling lightly on her cheek bone, his heavy breaths sounding louder than what snapping noise was made between his hips and the softness of her ass.

“Come on…” He drawled an impatient growl into her ear, a rumble that strung another whimper out from her.

More sobs followed, broken in their execution. “I love it… I love it.”

She hadn’t screamed it the way he wanted, but hearing it hang loosely onto her cries, all trembling and weak, was somehow better than what he thought he’d wanted anyway.

He slowed down, enough to lessen the sound of flesh slapping flesh and for the squishy noise of him filling her up again and again to replace it.

“What do you love?”

He made his way to rip open the seams of her shirt on her shoulder, not caring in the moment that she didn’t have a spare uniform to replace it. The shirt gone before she could even answer his question.

“You’re cock, I love you’re cock.” She sobbed, as her bra met with the same fate her shirt had, leaving her in just her little black skirt and one sock remaining, her tits springing loose, bouncing on both her cries and Bakugo’s movements.

“Fuck, good, such an obedient little pet.”

His head fell into the newly presented bare flesh with a moan, heavy panting as he slobbered up the valley between her breasts, palming the soft mounds before twisting the nipples between his fingertips, pulling at them, playing with them, his mouth sucking and biting, teasing the tender sensitivity.

His hands quitting their torment in favor of holding onto each their knee to keep her spread open for him as he rolled deeply into her spot.

“Feels so fucking-” He groaned, not bothering to finish the thought, before another impulse struck him.

His position in having his face buried in her neck and his body laid tight and snug on top of hers moved, making her feel the wisp of a chill coat her as their warm sweat-slicked bodies parted, feeling almost as though they were glued together as he pulled away, cock still being kept warm inside the comfort of her walls.

His hands came up to fickle with the knot that kept her hands locked above her head, his fingers sloppily tugging to loosen the tie, before gripping her hips tightly in a fashion meant to make sure she understood that despite being loose she was far from actually free.

Lifting her up of the spot she’d sunk into on the mattress and on to straddling his torso, his feet hitting the ground with a dunk with her propped up on his thighs, every little movement of his adjusting making his cock poke and message into other new dangerous places, places too tight to be attacked in whichever reckless unthoughtful way Bakugo saw fit.

Fingers running, or rather digging into her skin and making way to rake up her sides, grabbing and clinging to her midriff to pull her close, with his thighs beginning to impatiently move in a boyish manor to satiate the need for friction his member craved.

One arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand made to grab her chin, allowing him to look over her, again tempted to bite into those lushes red lips, all bloated and made for his teeth to gnaw on. Yet, his mouth made way to her neck instead, licking up her throat, sucking on the thin skin, wanting to make his mark flourish in red explosions all over her.

“Be a good quirkless slut and bounce on my cock, make yourself useful for once.”

His knees jolted upwards making her hop, followed by his cock sinking deeper into her.

Her hands held uncertainly mid-air made to grip his shoulders at the further intrusion, biting back another cry, however unable to keep the sobbing sigh from rupturing her throat.

However, she wasn’t given long to recover as his hand came down to plant a red-hot slap on her ass, making her jump on her own.

“Come on, don’t be shy.”

She started moving, unsure of what or which way to do it, finding the rhythm of rocking her hips forward after a while, earning a disgusting sigh of satisfaction from the blonde holding a bruising grip on her.

“That’s right...”

His arm moving to hold a death-grip on her waist, thumb digging into the underside of her ribs, poking each time she lolled forward and at the same time threatened her to stop.

His other hand came to grip her face again, stiff lips crashing against teary lips. Sucking her face as though stealing her life-source, only breaking between breaths to announce cocky cruel comments and instructions.

“Stay right there, slut.” A thrust from his hips accompanied the nickname, making her wince and lurch forward into him. “Aww that’s cute.”

Both his hands went under her skirt to grab at her ass, lifting her up only to sleeve himself inside her once again.

“Does that feel good? Huh? Right there?”

Another slap and she rested even harder against his chest, trying to find comfort in the pitch black her screwed-shut eyes left her in, yet the overwhelming scent of caramel wasn’t easily ignored, and neither was how perfectly his cock sunk into her.

His hands fingered the fabric of her skirt as he bumped into her from beneath. Tugging on the textile until ripping it off, the action earning her gasp as she was now wearing nothing but her one sock, the skirt having provided as some false sense of coverage.

“Is the slut enjoying herself?” He mocked, a salacious grin constantly spreading on his face between moans and grunts.

She shook her head, the urge to fight herself to freedom awakening yet again as her hands moved to push at his chest. 

“No… stop.”

But her back was supported, or rather steadied, with Bakugo’s large palm, little sparking ignitions gaining control of her struggles quickly, the fight leaving her body with a whimper of defeat, just as quickly as it had arrived.

Another sharp thrust ripped a strangled moan from her and he grinned. 

“Liar.” He snickered. “You’re gonna cum on my cock like a good little slut 'cause that's the only thing you know how not to fuck up, only thing your whore mom ever taught you.”

Forcing her hips to roll faster, the slick coated their thighs as her tits bounced for him.

“Does she share this bed with both you and her crackhead fuck-friends?” 

He couldn’t defend his need to make her cringe in his arms, why he wanted to see her ashamed, why he wanted her crying into him. 

“Such a freak. Are you gonna cum on the same sheets your mom sleeps on?”

Sharp fingers dug into her cheeks again, all because he wanted to be entertained by the show of her breaking.

He pulled her hips closer, fighting to hit that spot that had her mewling earlier, wanting to hear her mewl again, wanting to prove his point.

Once he found it she fell flush against him, melting in his hands, soft-spoken moans falling like drool down her chin.

“Like that, right there?” His words fell hot on her lips as his thumb pushed into her mouth and down onto her tongue, holding her chin in place. 

Her eyes crossed then upon his cock nudging in just the right way against her cervix, as well as her brows drawing up into a pretty eruption. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” He groaned, clutching tighter onto her hip, rocking her forward to meet his thrusts. “Are you gonna cum on my cock, huh?”

With his thumb still dipped into her mouth, she tried her best to retort. 

“No…” 

It couldn’t be referred to as defiance as it was too pitiful to be called that.

“Yes, you are.”

He sucked on her collarbone, making his way up by kissing a trail of slobbering kisses and bites to her ear. 

With his hips still angled just right, his thumb left her mouth to grip her other hip. 

He could feel her tight little pussy start to convulse around his shaft, small flutters that squeezed him tightly, milking him.

She hated that she wanted to spill over so badly. The surging swimming boiling buzz constantly teased by Katsuki’s plush cockhead pushing and poking and jabbing at her cervix again and again.

She felt it coming, the snapping, breaking, splitting, the building coming close to bursting, yet she was reminded of who she was with in her reach for bliss and found herself regretting chasing it.

“No, no, not with him, not with him, not-”

It was too late as she tried holding it back, tried grasping it as hard as she was clamping down on his cock, as hard as she was digging her nails into his shoulders.

The movements of his hips slowed down. 

“There you go. Feel good, slut?” He mocked as her body spasmed, skin freezing over under his touch, feeling disgusted, skin-crawlingly disgusted with herself and how she was unable to control the continuous spasms that seemed to ricochet through her spontaneously. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

His speed picked up again, humping into her, making her ride through her orgasm, feeling the almost painful ticklish pressure build again upon each time he bottomed-out ruthlessly inside the comfort of her wet walls.

“No, Bakugo stop, stop!” Her pleads weren’t met.

“Is it too much?” He laughed, gathering a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck in order to make her look up at him, making her wince as he spit his words into her face. “Mommy didn't do too good a job at raising her slut, I see. Can't even handle cumming without crying." He jeered, mock pouting at her with his forehead pressed into hers, blood-soaked orbs forcing eye-contact from her wide tear-stained ones as she whimpered. "Aw, is my cock too much for the little whore?”

“Yes, stop!” She couldn't care less if she was answering some cruel nickname , the painful pressure assaulted inside her was something too vehement she needed to make relent, but yet again was her plead answered with a lack of mercy in an eerie whisper and nothing more.

“I’m not finished yet.”

All she could do was beg for him to finish… so that’s what she did. 

“Please...”

He gathered her face in his hand again, fingers squishing into her cheeks hurtfully as he made to sneer into her face. 

“Please what? Please fuck your whore cunt harder? Please make you cum again?”

Even as he snickered and mocked, his cock twitched at the sight of her. 

Eyes all puffy and swimming in her own tears, eyebrows knitted together, begging for mercy. 

Completely and literally held in the palm of his hand, yet her gaze still managing to make him feel fuzzy with the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh fuck, say you love me.”

Cold dread made up most of her body, what else was the rising crippling shameful feeling of something sweet knotting up somewhere in her lower abdomen again, this time harder than before as her already abused high was continuously pocked by Katsuki’s swollen cockhead kissing her cervix harshly again and again and again, driving her insane. And all of it made his demand impossible to answer, impossible to even comprehend.

Yet, she was in no position to refuse with her face held up between his fingertips and his crimson eyes boring holes straight into her terror-wide heart.

“Say you love me or I’ll cum inside you.” His voice lacking all she considered still human. Not a hint of remorse or guilt or shame or pity.

She gulped on her breaths, yet managed to voice the words. “I love you, Katsuki.”

Her eyes now unable to look away from him. Even as he picked up the painful pace, stabbing at her core, in places she had no former knowledge of, places the length of her fingers could never even as much as dream of reaching.

“Fuck.” A boyish virginal whimper laced the moan that escaped him at her words, satisfaction easing the raging and crazed look on his face. “I love you too.”

His toes curled painfully, cold and numb against the floorboards.

“I love you.”

Hands warm and sliding against dewy and doughy flesh.

"I love you."

Something pulling, straining, building to burst was chasing release, sending spasms to shoot through his shaft.

"I love you."

He knew what was coming. He knew it would be better than ever.

“We’ll get you a pill later, ‘kay?”

The guilt was washed over with the promise of painting her walls.

“It’s fine.” He tried reassuring as he felt her revolt in his arms, all her strength fighting to get off him, yet was no match against the force of his hands holding onto her, and his need to explode inside.

She resulted to begging instead. “No, no, Katsuki stop, don’t, please!”

Feeling her hope being crushed in his palm, picturing his laughing face as she turned her vision to black, his feral smile like supersonic light, dangerous and deadly and made to rip throats out.

And then it was done, she felt the last thrust like the last blow through her gut.

Cream filling her up, smearing between their thighs, Katsuki’s head resting on her shoulder with his hands holding onto her hips, fingers marking their presence into her back yet softening their grip with each of his panting breaths landing on her breasts.

Her blood ran cold through stiff veins, as though she were dead. Her skin crawling, as though rotting with mites. 

Sickness. 

Sickness in her lungs, in her throat, building, climbing up her pipes.

She slung herself off in a hurry, and with Katsuki coming down from whatever sick high he was riding, he wasn’t alert enough to catch her, which was probably a good thing because after her staggering her way to the bathroom, feeling his cum and her wetness leak out of her and drip along the inside of her thighs, she only barely made it in time to open the toilet compartment, get to her knees in the small space and haul her guts out into the small stained bowl.

Feeling like her mother, each time she came home all sweaty, mascara smeared with tears on her face like a garbage racoon, sticking her fingers down her throat and gagging until she collapsed on the floor, face laid in her own puke.

She heard Katsuki’s heavy footsteps, one and two before his hand met with her neck. Collecting her hair in a ponytail in his grip with the other hand encompassing her naked back.

She was afraid he was going to pull her up, expecting her scalp to soon scream in protest at the feel of her hairs being ripped up from their roots. 

Yet, as she awaited the torture… all she felt was the slow stroking of carefully placed paths running up her spine and then down to the small of her back in a manor either meant to be comforting or patronizing, with her hair being kept away from her face as she retched on repeat.

It was mostly just water and acid, and Katsuki made a mental note to make her eat later as he helped her up with his hands under her arms, supporting her when seeing how her shivering rendered her knees too weak to stand on her own, lifting her up on a tiny counter which would have been impossible for him if he were to try and sit on it, yet seemed the perfect size for her.

The ruff base of his thumb brushed the spit from the corner of her mouth, her large eyes meeting his own as he leaned in, soft weak hands only barely pushing against his chest in an act to stop him, but his lips pushed onto her anyway.

Parting with a string of silver connecting them, and he couldn’t help but fall prey to how beautiful she was even in her broken ugliness, how prettily her eyes fluttered with sticky eyelashes clutching together as though hugging for comfort, stray wisps of hair dancing in front of her face. Her wet breaths, sobbing breaths, hiccupping breaths, trembling past those soft pillow-y and blossomed lips, plump and full and bitable, or huffed through her nose, sniveling and sniffing and so very unfairly precious.

His thumb stroked over those lips, watching them quiver. 

He took time admiring her, feeling her cold fingertips vibrate against his chest, wondering if she could feel how hard his heart was hammering inside his ribcage with how much she was shaking. Wondering if she knew just how much he’d wanted this, how long he’d wanted this, how despite him ignoring her cries, that she understood how this wasn’t in vain, how he wasn’t just doing this because he could, that he was doing this because he needed to, that he wasn’t doing this because he hated her but because he loved her, loved her too much to let her simply slip from between his fingers again.

His fingers latched onto the band of her sock, pulling it down and off at her toes, finally leaving her completely bare.

“Let’s get you in the shower.”

He moved to pick her up, uncaring of her newly sparked urge to fight him.

“No, Katsuki…”

She tried pushing, she tried making him stop despite everything being slippery and sticky and gross. The want to cry herself to sleep knowing and finding some comfort in the fact that Katsuki was done with her and long gone outweighed the want to get clean.

“The water’s cold, you won’t like it.” She argued in a weak attempt to sway him from the idea, yet knowing full well that he didn’t care.

“Come on…” He drawled as he caught her bothersome fists by the wrists in his massive hands. “We’ll take a shower and then we’ll go get your pill…” 

He fought to find eye-contact. 

“We both know you don’t have the money for it anyway…”

Typical of him to mention her situation. Typical of him to use it against her. And though it was typical, though it was predictable, it still made her heart clench, her soul twist, her spirit crumble.

He swore he saw something start to break in her eyes, wanting to deliver the final blow to snuff out whatever fight she still had left. 

He leaned in more, his nose brushing against hers.

“You need me.”

Her struggles stopped at that, Katsuki wrapping her legs around his back to support her as he carried her to the shower. Her cheek resting on his shoulder, completely deflated.

It wasn’t at all as in the movies. Sweet couples who help wash each other’s hair, warm bodies gliding against one another, soft perfect handprints printed on the dewy glass.

She hadn’t been lying, the water was freezing as the showerhead spritzed the water down on them with a force close to that of aching.

They didn’t both fit in the crammed space either, Katsuki was sure that even him alone wouldn’t fit in the tight space, where he was left to have one foot on the floorboards outside the door, water rushing into the hallway, running down his leg, but he didn't care.

His frame blocked the door completely, allowing her no shape or form of exit as he made her stand there, under the showerhead, hair slicking to her neck and nipples perking into hardness under the freeze, goosebumps strutted and coated her flesh from head to toe, her cheeks and lips blossomed with a purple hue, her eyes closed, head dipped in discomfort or shame or embarrassment or sorrow or a bit of everything and even more.

Her body trembled beneath his warm hands, as they cupped her breasts, palming them and playing and pinching with her back hunching in a weak effort to get her discomfort across, despite knowing how he didn’t care, with the fact having been proven time and time again.

His warm calloused fingertips brushed down her abdomen, eyes stark and loud as they looked at her body, thinking of how unblemished and beautiful her skin was as opposed to him, no roughness or ugly greenish bruises, just milky smooth and rosy suppleness and all his.

His hand traveled further, causing her small ones to reach out and grip around his wrist, both hands giving their best effort at trying to stop him. Though his other hand was quick to wrap around her throat and extract a sweet gasp with the movement.

Her hands removed their pressure yet remained on him as he brushed featherlight touches over the sensitiveness of her sex, fingertips dipping into her folds, slithering in the slick velvet of his cum mixed with her wetness.

A sob ricocheted through her as her toes curled, fingers bending and nailing into his wrist. Still, he continued. Fingers pushing inside, pumped knuckle-deep inside the puffy spongey walls, reaching deep before scissoring, making her knees bend, yet kept from falling by the hand around her neck keeping her up like a noose as he curled the two digits.

Her eyes avoided his, looking down at his limp cock who somehow seemed just as intimidating as before, like a sleeping beast ready to wake at any second. 

Yet, as much as he played with her sex, his own remained still.

He picked her up again as he saw more of her skin going purple, not really wanting her to get sick, just refreshed.

Water flooded on the soft-with-mould floorboards in the tight hallway as her feet dragged against the walls when he yet again carried her to the bed. And as much as she wanted to fight as he placed her dripping body down onto the sheets, she couldn’t find the energy. Tears, however, still managed to drip down her face, unhurriedly gliding down her cheeks, warm in stark contrast amidst the freezing shower-water.

“Do you wanna hear something really fucked up?”

It was rhetorical, but he wouldn’t have gotten an answer either way.

“I used to be jealous of your crack-whore mother…”

Her face cringed, confused yet still not desiring to know what he meant.

“Fuck, I’m still jealous when you come to school and I see that there's somebody else who makes you cry harder than me.”

She had to swallow in order not to gulp.

“You’re sick.”

Those were the wrong words, for as quickly as they entered the air, he was once again on top of her, squeezing the breath from out of her lungs.

“I’m sick?” He questioned, fingers plunging inside her, a forced moan ripped from her throat. “You’re the one cumming and creaming and squirting all over my cock while crying.” He bit out while starting to pump into her cruelly, finding it easier now as she was already wet from before. “Telling me you love it, telling me you love me.” He laughed as he sneered. “Who would’ve known what a slut you are. So desperate you let your own bully fuck you like this. You fucking whore.” 

His pushed his thumb into her clit cruelly, a sadistic smile on his face as she struggled.

“Stop, shut up, shut up!” Her palms made to push at his hard chest, yet was weakened as she felt the burning sweetness start to pool were his fingers poked.

“You don’t like that nickname? No? Aww, that’s fine.” He hissed, then scoffed. “It’s not true anyway...” He muttered beneath his breath, trying to find what sweet spot his fingers could reach as so to have her unravel beneath him again, wanting to lick the sin from her expression, wanting to bathe in his victory of making her his. “How did it feel to have my cock balls deep inside your precious little virgin innocent cunt, huh? Better yet, how does it feel to know how I am your first? First to kiss you, first to fuck you, first to make you cum.”

“Fuck you.”

Any remnants of strength was now spent on those last words, as the rest was spared to support her oncoming orgasm, the one she could feel clawing, sucking all senses up as though preparing for an implosion.

“That’s right…” He whispered. “Fuck me. Your first and your last.”

His ominous tone had her guts churning, which in some sick sense only added to the pooling dam that was about to snap inside her, but she kept her eyes wide, further digging into what his words meant, wondering if this would be her last day on earth, wondering if Bakugo would be the last person she'd ever see, ever feel, ever touch.

“You look like I’m gonna kill you.” He observed as he curled his fingers once again, making her hips buckle into his hand, which in turn made him grin. “Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you…”

His head dipped so that he could nibble at her neck, lick up the tender flesh with his fingers pumping in and out of her, coated in slick, collecting and drenching in his palm.

“I’m just gonna make sure no one ever touches what’s mine again…”

She couldn’t explain why the growl in his voice had her abdomen doing flips.

“Including that fuckface slut you call a mother.”

His fingers scissored, her back arching as she moaned.

“You’ll be lucky I even let you graduate.”

She couldn’t quite catch what he was saying anymore, just the lilt in his tone which had her falling apart beneath him, the walls of her pussy fluttering in pleasure.

“People go missing all the time.”

Her toes curled and she braced herself.

“That way I can have you all for myself.”

His warm lips pressed against her neck, his growls reverberating on her skin.

“All mine.”

His fingers poked at something that was about to burst and as she wanted to climb further up on the bed to escape it, she also wanted him to follow.

“Where you belong.”

And there it was, body melting into the mattress, all shame obsolete in those seconds.

Unable to see him lick her orgasm off his fingers as her eyes had crossed and traveled way too far into the back of her skull.

Unable to prepare for his kiss as her mouth hung open, soft feeble moans cut loose into the air, captured by Bakugo’s mouth.

She didn’t catch the second he stopped kissing her, nor did she catch the moment he got off the bed.

She must have fallen asleep for a short while because when she opened her eyes again Bakugo was dressed, rummaging through cabinets containing worn out clothes and things like it, seeming displeased with most of what he found.

She looked to her side, where placed on the bed was a towel, fresh underwear and a bra.

She motioned for the towel first, feeling the shameful wet stickiness between her thighs, hurriedly wiping it clean before putting on her garments, looking up to see Bakugo staring at her, having found something suitable to dress her in.

“Put this on.” 

She didn’t bother looking at what he’d so graciously offered her of her own clothes.

Her eyes narrowed at him instead. 

“I don’t want your help.” She sneered, looking away, crossing her arms over her chest as so to hide herself from his piercing gaze.

His fingertips were quick in clutching her cheeks, raking them into her skin as he turned her head back to look at him.

“Too bad, you need it.”

The fabric was cast at her lap unceremoniously, the soft silky feel cold against her bare thighs.

“Put it on.” The growl was followed by him removing his hand with a push.

She huffed before looking down at the presented article, wondering what Bakugo wanted to dress her up in, her lips forming a disgusted snarl.

“It’s my mother’s.”

The yellow summer-dress, flowy and frilly in texture, something she’d never wear, something Bakugo knew well she would never wear.

“It’d go to waste on her.”

This made her look up, curiosity or maybe even a form of flattery evident in the curl between her brows.

The sudden eye-contact catching Bakugo off guard as he’d shared the uncharacteristically tender opinion of the girl out loud.

He scoffed, crimson eyes darkening in an attempt to hide the building flustered panic, masking it with a growl instead. 

“Put it on, I won’t ask again.”

She fingered the fabric for a while longer before treading it on over her head, letting the skirt dress her thighs with a featherlight fall.

Looking like a spring-daydream, not at all as though she’d just lived through a nightmare.

With her drying hair falling in messy curled tousles down her shoulders, Bakugo reached out a hand to fasten the small wispy strands coming to tickle her forehead behind her ear, grabbing her wrists in favor of her hand when he pulled her up.

“Let’s go. I can’t stand this shithole.”

Wondering if he should have said that he couldn’t stand her in that shithole instead.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

[crimeronan]

Ok so I’m into the dreamer trilogy and haven’t read the Raven cycle...what is Declan’s characterisation/journey there?

THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST ASK I’VE EVER RECEIVED. IMAGINE I’M STANDING WITH MY ARMS SPREAD USING DIFFERENT VOICES AND HAND GESTURES TO REENACT THIS STORY FOR A RESENTFUL CAPTIVE AUDIENCE

also declan’s TRC storyline is like. equal parts horribly fucking sad and unbelievably fucking hilarious so. i will try to strike a Balance

FIRST OFF.  there is exactly one (1) declan POV chapter in the entire series. it happens toward the end of the last book. up until then, everything we know about him comes from the observations and narration of others.

he is also a very minor character.  his importance grows throughout the series, but almost all of his actions happen offscreen.  it’s not until the last book that we know exactly how much he’s been dealing with the whole time.

when he’s introduced in the first book, he appears as a plot device.  here is a two-dimensional horrible controlling hardass who doesn’t give a shit about anything but his future political career.  look at his fake, smug fucking grin.  how did someone like ronan end up with a brother like him??  doesn’t matter.  it’s a convenient excuse for ronan to live with his best friend in a drafty warehouse, which means more room for YA hijinks!

declan’s introduction scene is Embroiled in Capital-D Douchebaggery. according to the narration (from gansey and adam), he loves to fuck women and then never call them back, cozy up to powerful people, and bitch about how ronan’s ruining his life by being sad about their dead parents.  SOME people can just get over their dead parents, ronan!

this intro scene is also Extremely Funny i 100% recommend reading it even if u don’t read the actual series.  ronan makes a nasty comment, declan goes “why are you the way that you are” and tries to salvage his date, gansey utters the phrase “man whore”

then later that night things go like. actually bad.

declan shows up at the same pizza place where ronan is with his friends.  this scene is gansey pov.  gansey runs out to the parking lot to find the two of them Very Literally Trying To Kill Each Other.  you don’t see that violence in cdth - there’s only the TINIEST shadow of it when declan confronts ronan over matthew - so i Cannot Express Enough that someone is going to end up hospitalized at BEST. ronan’s already slammed declan’s head on the car, declan’s already grabbed ronan and beaten the shit out of his face, like.

you do not get good old-fashioned Declan Lynch At His Actual Worst in cdth. u might be thinking, THAT guy???? doing THIS????

oh yeah. things are real bad between declan and ronan.

after gansey breaks up the fight (and gets punched in the face for his trouble, albeit accidentally), declan tells ronan that their dad would be fucking ashamed to see him now & that he’s washing his hands of it & basically if ronan wants to go off and fucking die, he can.

this is like. just a couple months after the magical suicide attempt referenced in cdth

in the aftermath of that scene it becomes clear that ronan absolutely unequivocally 100% will kill himself if he has to live with declan. hence. why he’s living with gansey instead.  gansey spends that whole night petrified that the declan altercation will lead to another attempt, and for Good Reason

so like, that’s how we first meet declan. he’s an uncaring wannabe corporate asshole who does not give a fuck and who only exists to exacerbate ronan’s mental health issues.

but then the opening of book 2 gets real interesting.

book 2 is where we start learning more about the lynch family.  we learn that ronan’s father was a dreamer who sold his creations on the black market, we learn that that’s why he was murdered. we learn that ronan’s a dreamer too. we learn that there are very powerful people looking for the greywaren, an artifact that takes objects from dreams. those powerful people just don’t realize it’s a person, yet.

so here’s the assassin who killed niall lynch.

he goes to declan’s dorm.

with everything we know about declan, the kid should be completely unprepared.  he can box, but the assassin knows that, so there’s no real advantage.  he’s alone, and he doesn’t have an escape route.

declan pulls out a gun.

this is an unexpected turn of events.

unfortunately he ends up getting beaten half to death with the butt of said gun, because he loses the ensuing physical struggle for the weapon.  the assassin is like, i need the greywaren.  declan is like, i know it exists but i don’t know what it is.  i’ll find it for you.  i’ll get it to you.  then you’ll leave me the fuck alone

now with everything we know of declan at this point - his attitude toward ronan, his general demeanor, and this new knowledge that he knew about the black market - there’s one obvious question.

will declan sell ronan out if he finds out about the dreaming.

and like, okay. their relationship is antagonistic in cdth but it is NOT what it is in trc. believe me when i tell you that at that point, when you’re reading, you can pretty reasonably go, “oh, god.  oh god.  oh god please no one ever tell declan what the greywaren is.  oh god.”

declan has some other interactions with ronan and the gang throughout the book, mostly where he’s just a hardass who tells ronan to stop causing trouble.  adam’s the only one who notices that declan is scared.  like bone-deep shaking to the core petrified.  about Something.

probably getting beaten to within an inch of his life by the man who murdered his father.  that’s the reasonable reader conclusion.

so imagine how everything changes when you find out that declan already knows.  that declan’s known about ronan’s dreaming for longer than ronan has.  that declan knew exactly what and who the greywaren was, and he lied to a man who was ready to torture him for information, and he got away with it.

suddenly a lot of things recontextualize.

“keep your head down and stop making trouble”? people are gonna NOTICE your magic bullshit, ronan, we do not have time for this!

“stop hanging with that loser druggie friend of yours”? you mean the loser druggie friend who sells on the magic black market and doesn’t care about protecting himself or anyone else?

“i got super weird for no reason about ronan sleeping close to adam”? i don’t have fucking TIME to be homophobic i’m busy with your POTENTIAL TO MANIFEST NIGHT TERRORS IN FRONT OF WITNESSES IN BROAD DAYLIGHT

“i’ll find out what the greywaren is and bring it to you”? i’ll die. i’m making a bargain to die. i’m never giving you the greywaren and i know you’re going to kill me about it and that’s fine as long as my brothers are safe

ronan doesn’t know that he dreamed matthew.  declan knows.  he’s known the whole time.  declan tells ronan in book 3.  and then things recontextualize even further, because ronan’s death is also matthew’s, and matthew IS close to declan in trc.

but declan never tells the goddamn truth unless it’s his last option.  he doesn’t tell ronan that he knows about the dreaming and he doesn’t tell ronan what specifically wants to hurt him and the lack of communication fucking destroys both of them.

in the last book, ronan realizes declan loves him.

more than that, he realizes declan’s loved him the whole time.

this is when declan finally tells the truth.  things are getting bad, plot-wise, and declan is scared, so he comes clean.  he tells ronan that niall specifically tasked declan with protecting ronan from the market.  he begs ronan to run from the danger.  “let’s pour gasoline on everything dad left and start over.”

this is also when ronan realizes that declan’s childhood was very different from ronan’s own.  and that niall and aurora lynch were not the same people to declan that they were to ronan.  and that their father’s decisions are what’s driven the wedge between him and declan all this time

(he’s still struggling with the cognitive dissonance of this in cdth. i don’t think he knows how to adjust his perception of declan to fit this new information.)

aaaaand the final scene with declan makes me cry every time i read it so instead of summarizing, here’s the important part:

Ronan delivered a sharp tap to the object, and a small cloud of fiery orbs sprayed up with a sparkling hiss.

“Jesus, Ronan!” Declan jerked his chin away.

“Please. Did you think I’d blow your face off?”

He demonstrated it again, that quick tap, that burst of brilliant orbs. He tipped it into Declan’s hand, and before Declan could say anything, jabbed it to activate it once more.

Orbs gasped up into the air. For a moment, he saw how his brother was caught inside them, watching them soar furiously around his face, each gold sun firing gold and white, and when he saw the spacious longing in Declan’s face, he realized how much Declan had missed by growing up neither dreamer nor dreamt. This had never been his home. The Lynches had never tried to make it Declan’s home.

“Declan?” Ronan asked.

Declan’s face cleared. “This is the most useful thing you’ve ever dreamt. You should name it.”

“I have. ORBMASTER. All caps.”

“Technically you’re the orbmaster though, right? And that’s just an orb.”

“Anyone who holds it becomes an ORBMASTER. You’re an ORBMASTER right now. There, keep it, put it in your pocket. D.C. ORBMASTER.”

Declan reached out and scuffed Ronan’s shaved head. “You’re such a little asshole.”

The last time they’d stood on this roof together, their parents had both been alive, and the cattle in these fields had been slowly grazing, and the world had been a smaller place. That time was gone, but for once, it was all right.

The brothers both looked back over the place that had made them, and then they climbed down from the roof together.

[inkandpen22]

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 5)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: swearing, violence, mild smut

Part Summary: You and Topper make amends. You two attend the end of the summer bonfire at the Boneyard. When JJ sees you guys together, things take a turn for the worst.��

Masterlist

Somehow, after hours of crying, you finally fell asleep on your bed. You're not quite sure when it happened. Your covers tucked nicely under you, wet from your tears. When you first got home, you immediately snuck up to your room, far from your parents. You ripped off your Labor Day dress, having already hated it, but you also took your aggression out on it. You changed in one of Topper's T-shirts that you stole sometime last summer... when you were hooking up. You had never been so close. Morning, noon, and night you were together. You were practically dating but without the titles. Actually, it was far deeper than that. You spent almost every hour together, you co-existing. You were acting married even though you were only teenagers. You guys just loved each other that much. If someone had told you then that a year from now you two wouldn't be talking, you would've thought they were crazy. 

“Y/N!" You hear Topper in your dreams.  "Y/N!" He repeats, then you process it's real. 

"What the-" You rise from your laid position and spot the boy climbing in from your window in the dark. "Topper?" 

"Hey! Sorry to scare you," he apologizes as he rises to his feet from a crawling position on your floor. 

"Did you climb through the window?" You question, this wouldn't be the first time, but it nevertheless is mind-boggling to you how he can climb up the side of your house. 

"Yeah, can you tell your mom to not have the gardeners cut the vines so short?" He complains with a chuckle, brushing down his Patagonia shirt. 

"What are you doing here?" You yawn. Considering what he said to you just hours before, you can't help but wonder why the fuck he's here. 

"I... I need to apologize," he stammers, taking a seat on the edge of your bed just by your legs. "Y/N, I'm so sorry! I was such a jerk to you earlier. I shouldn't have-" 

Before he can even finish, you leap at him, pulling him into a pleading hug. "Jesus, I'm so happy you're here," you whisper against his shoulder. 

Topper instantly wraps his arms around you, engulfing you. He releases a deep breath, not having realized until this moment that he couldn't breathe the entire time you weren't talking. "I've missed you!" He pulls back and brushes his hand across your cheek, bringing your hair back. "I missed you the moment you left!" He wears a smile of relief as his eyes glisten with tears threatening to fall. 

"Never let me go again," you mutter, almost as a beg. 

"I could never. I didn't," Topper explains in a rushed whisper, gripping your waist. "As soon as you left I was a mess, ask the boys! They had to talk me off a cliff. I came by earlier but your parents said you were still at Kiara's... which I'm guessing you were with JJ and the other Pogues..." His face falters and he avoids your gaze at the mention of JJ. 

You bring your hand up and tuck your fingers under his chin, guiding him to look at you. His eyes meet you with defeat and it nearly breaks your heart. "JJ drove me back to John B's, but I had Sarah drive me home almost as soon as we got there." 

"So you and JJ..." He can't bring himself to ask. 

"We..." Your brows scrunch together as you realize you never really discussed it. "You know what, I didn't even know." Enough about JJ, you're just happy that Topper is here! You felt so empty all day, in a constant state of panic. Now, you can exist again. "I'm just relieved you're here, Top. I've felt sick to my stomach all day," you release a breathless laugh of relief. 

"No, yeah you're right, no one else matters," he shakes his head, reaching for your hand on his cheek and taking it in his hands. "As long as we're good then everything else will be okay." He lifts your hand to his lips and gives them a needy kiss. 

"Stay with me?" You ask softly as he does. 

You see him swallow hard, pausing with your hand his lips. His eyes flicker up to yours with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "I was hoping you'd ask." A faint grin appearing on the edge of his lips. 

You and Topper get ready for bed as you used to every night when he snuck into your room a lot more. You've shared a bed since breaking off your... arrangement. There was the ski trip and Bermuda, but on random nights when he couldn't sleep or missed you, Topper would find himself in your bed. You pull back your blankets, knowing to get on the side closest to the window, away from the door. Topper didn't need to think twice to move to the opposite side because ever in the case of an emergency, he's the closest to the door. He's always thinking of how to keep you safe and satisfied. As you climb in, Topper begins to remove his t-shirt and shorts. You can't help but watch as his clothes become a pile on his side. It's months since you two have done anything, but that doesn't mean you haven't thought about it. There have been opportunities, but you always try to be responsible and remember why you stopped. Topper doesn't notice your staring and wondering what it would feel like to run your fingers down his chest. He climbs in next to you and immediately guides you into his side. Instantly, you feel secure and wanted, which is all anyone ever needs. He brushes his fingertips up and down your spine gently while you rest your cheek against his bare chest. It's not a new feeling to you, but it certainly never gets old. 

"There's a bonfire tomorrow at the Boneyard, wanna go together?" The boy asks, glancing down at you. 

"As long as Rafe doesn't go wild as he did," you snicker, but you mean what you say. 

"Don't worry about him, we had a nice long chat once he sobered up this afternoon," he insinuates and you wish you would've seen Topper go off on him. Then, you comprehend that it might've only happened because Topper was mad at you and Rafe was getting the side effects. 

"He doesn't deserve you, Top." You mutter, lifting your head off his chest to place a quick kiss on his chest. 

"That's how I feel about myself with you," he confesses as he peers down at you. "You've always been there for me. When Sarah cheated, you were right there and pulled me through it. The way I spoke to you this morning. I-" 

"No, no, don't say that," you shake your hand repeatedly as you cup his cheek as you did before. He leans into your touch and you find yourself wishing to be closer to him, as though that's even possible. "I love you, Top. You're my best friend. I'll always be there for you. You've helped me in more ways than you could ever realize." 

"I love you too, Y/N," he smiles, leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead. "So much..." he whispers against your skin. 

His eyes flicker down to your neck and you remember last night in the kitchen. You brush your hand across Topper's cheek, pulling his focus back to you. His eyes and features falter at the evidence of JJ on you. 

"I'm here with you! Okay? It's you and me," you try to emphasize. 

He nods slowly, still feeling an ache in his chest, but relieved to have you in his arms. You're it for Topper. He would do anything for you, drop anyone for you, nothing is too much. You alone are what drives him and are the reason he wakes up in the morning. He would never admit it aloud out of guilt, but when he was with Sarah, he always compared her to you. He doesn't fully know why he dated her, maybe because he felt you slipping away when you realized that you no longer wanted to hook up. He couldn't lose you so he tried to replace you, but he quickly realized that was impossible. No one could be you. 

_____________________________________

Topper woke up before you and let you sleep, pondering having you in his arms. Your legs entangled in his, your arm across his chest along with your cheek. In the light, he finally notices you wearing his shirt. A faint smile forms on his lips at the sight. He has you here with him, not with JJ or Rafe or anyone else who's pining after you. You're his. 

You've spent the entire day together on Topper's boat. It couldn't have been more perfect. The hours slipped by without either of you two noticing. Topper has been energized and enthusiastic about everything, all because he has you back. Around ten, you and Topper arrive at the Boneyard for the final bonfire of the summer. You wear distressed white short shorts over a black tank bodysuit with a matching black Chanel belt. All finished with the pearl earrings Topper gave you for Christmas last year.  

Topper keeps you close, his arm around your waist as you walk toward the crowd of teenagers. "I'm so lucky." 

You peer up at the boy with a giggle. "Why?" 

"I have the most beautiful girl in the OBX at my side," he flirts. 

You turn your attention ahead, struggling to hide your blushing. "You sound like Rafe." 

Topper steps around to walk backward in front of you. He locks his fingers through the loops of your shorts and pulls you into his chest. "At least he and I agree on something." He grins, resting his hands on your hips. 

You playfully roll your eyes but find it hard to hide your amusement. "You're such a cheese ball." 

"I'm gonna go get us some drinks," he announces before planting a quick peck to your temple. 

You nod, stepping back toward the shore as Topper holds onto your hands until the last minute. "Okay, I'll find us a spot by the water." 

"Be right there," he winks, offering you a mischievous smirk. 

For a second, you watch Topper jog off to the stack of coolers by the cement wall. Is it possible to be too dependent on someone? You know that if you and Topper stopped talking completely that you wouldn't physically die, but emotionally it would destroy you. You smile, knowing that you two will grow closer because of your fight. It taught you a valuable lesson. It took losing Topper for you to fully comprehend how much you need him. Turning on your heels, you head toward a log facing the shore. It's far enough from the chaos to give you and Topper some privacy, but close enough to still be included in the festivities. You two are both social butterflies, but today has been about you two and you want to keep it that way. You sit down on the log, content watching the small waves crashing against the sand just a few feet away. The light of the moon shimmers on the water, making it looks like lines of crystal. 

"Want a drink, Princess?" A familiar voice asks over your shoulder 

You glance up to see a 

"Wow, you look extra Kooky tonight," he remarks under his breath as he brings his cup to his mouth. 

You glare at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Let's play a game!" He blurts out. "How many items that Y/N is wearing are designer?"

You roll your eyes, realizing how drunk he is because JJ isn't like this. "How much have you had to drink?" 

"Just the right amount!" He answers swiftly before moving on. "My guess is all of them, but I can't be too sure. You'll have to take off your clothes so I can check what's underneath." 

"You wanna sit for a second? Maybe cool down a bit?" You offer, gesturing to the space beside you. 

His expression shifts from carefree to hurt. "Why do you care?" 

"JJ..." You sigh, peering up at the boy with immense guilt. 

"What?!" He tosses his arms up at his sides, losing some of his drink in the process. "You come here with Prince Charming, acting all coupley!" 

 "It's not like that-" You try to explain calmly. 

"Not according to Sarah!" He counters in a shout. You nervously check over at the crowd, making sure no one heard him burst. "You two planning your next trip to Bermuda?!" 

"What!" You whip your head back around toward JJ. "What did Sarah tell you?!" You fly up to your feet, stepping toward him defensively. 

"Did you sleep with him?!" JJ yells again and you're sure others heard him this time. 

"Excuse me?" You gasp at his audacity. 

"After you left John B's, did you go and find him?!" He elaborates with a breathless laugh. He steps closer to you, getting in your face. He doesn't care if others listen or if he's making you uncomfortable. "After you kissed me and slept in my bed, did you go and sleep with Topper?!" 

Abruptly, you feel a hand pressed to your back and see JJ being shoved backyard. 

"Hey! Back off man!" Topper growls, suddenly at your side. 

JJ catches himself from falling after a second of stumbling. "Oh and here he is now!" He laughs, tossing his cup to the side. "Your knight in shining armor!" 

"I think you should go, man!" Topper warns between his teeth. 

Topper's arm slips around you and grips your waist protectively. You watch JJ as he glares at Topper's arm around you. 

"Don't "man" me, alright! Touch me again and you'll lose a hand!" JJ threatens. 

"JJ!" John B calls for his friend as he runs toward you from down the beach. Kiara, Pope, and Sarah are close behind him. When JJ doesn't react. John B shouts again. JJ! Come on, let's go back over to the fire." 

"No! Not until she answers me!" JJ screams, yanking his arm free. 

Pope, Kiara, and Sarah watch in distress as JJ and Topper go back and forth. None of you are sure what to do. 

"Answer what!" Topper barks, stepping toward JJ defensively. You grab his arm, keeping him back. 

"Oh, I'm sorry! Is your name Y/N?" JJ laughs mockingly. "That Kook Academy doesn't do you guys any favors for your intelligence does it?" 

Pope steps around to block off his friend. "Just cool down, buddy!" 

"I knew you were Kook, Y/N, but I would've never marked you as slut," JJ shouts at you over Pope's shoulder. 

Topper breaks free of your hold, charging at JJ. John B grabs Pope and yanks him out of Topper's way. Now block-less, JJ runs at Topper. His face is red with aggravation. You could've never imagined seeing JJ look so enraged. The person he was with you the other night was entirely different. He was kind, gentle, understanding. You don't recognize him. Topper shoves JJ hard enough to make the boy fall back onto the sand. 

Topper tackles JJ into the ankle-deep water, immediately punching him in the jaw. The two grunt, struggling to get the upper hand. John B attempts to pull Topper off. 

"Topper!" You yell desperately. 

"JJ!" Kiara yells from the sidelines. 

"Enough!" John B barks at the pair as Pope runs to assist. 

The crowd by the bonfire starts to figure out what's going on a few yards away and rush over to watch. Pogues and Kooks each cheer for their fighter. Kelce and Rafe show up, pushing through the crowd to help out their friend. 

"Topper! Get off of him!" You plead as your best friend continues to press JJ's head under the water. 

JJ manages to punch Topper in the cheek, making the boy lose his balance for a second. Despite hating each other, Kelce and Rafe try to help out John B and Pope. 

"Guys! Quit!" Kelce commands, pulling at Topper. 

"Top, you'll kill him!" Sarah screams from beside Kiara. 

You want to go stand with them, but at this moment you're not sure if they want anything to do with you. Sarah and Kiara are Pogues. You're not just Y/N right now, their friend. You're a Kook during this Kook vs. Pogue fight. 

The boys manage to yank Topper off of JJ. The blonde Pogue flies up from beneath the surface, gasping for air. Topper falls back onto the sand in a seated position. Topper continues to fist JJ's collar and as he's shoved off, ripping JJ's shirt down the front. You notice the large purple and blue bruise on JJ's chest and freshly heeling cut down his neck to his collar bone. JJ frantically reaches behind himself, searching for something. Then, things take a turn for the worst when he whips out a gun. The crowd that watched the fight with amusement now scatters in a panic. 

"Woah! Woah! Woah!" Topper's eyes grow wide as he starts to scoot back, holding up a hand pleadingly. 

Kelce and Rafe bolt away, John B and Pope rush out words, trying to calm JJ down. 

"JJ!" John B yells at his friend. "What the hell?!" 

"Oh my god!" Sarah's hands fly up to her mouth. 

"That's right! Bet you didn't think I had that did ya?" JJ grins wickedly at Topper. 

"Topper!" Kelce attempts to collect his friend but halts when JJ points the gun at him. 

"Everyone back off!" JJ orders, rising to his feet, returning the gun's point toward Topper. 

Without a second thought, you sprint across the sand. You slide in front of Topper, the waves splashing against you. 

"Y/N! No!" Topper screams as soon as you land in JJ's path. 

"Y/N!" Sarah and Kiara shout your name in unison. 

JJ hesitates when his eyes land on you. You see him lower the gun a little and Kelce takes the opportunity to pull Topper from the scene. 

"JJ please..." you beg of him. 

Your heart is racing, but you're certain JJ won't hurt you. Despite his evident pain and anger toward you, he won't do it. You remember the boy from the other night, the one who spoke to you with such admiration. That boy wouldn't harm you. You know he's in there beneath this tough facade. 

"Y/N! Come on!" Rafe wraps his fingers around your arm and drags you away. 

While he's distracted by you, John B swiftly steals the gun from JJ's hand and begins ushers him away to their circle of friends. The Pogues swarm JJ, all talking over each other. 

 Rafe frantically cups your face, checking on you. "Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?"

"I'm fine..." You mutter, glancing over your shoulder, watching John B talk to JJ down the beach. 

"No cuts? Scrapes?" Rafe panics. 

"No..." You shake your head absent-mindedly as you’re too distracted by observing JJ. 

"Are you okay?" Kiara checks on JJ worriedly as you watch from a distant. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine!" JJ rushes out, still agitated. "Fuck this man!" He swears, then his eyes land on yours with surprise. He hand’t expected you to be listening or even care. 

You two stare each other from across the beach. Guilt consumes his features and sympathy breaks you apart as your vision lands on the wounds covering JJ’s torso. Rafe brings you over to Kelce who has Topper catching his breath against a tree. 

"Dude's fucking nuts, man!" Kelce curses, all fidgety beside you. 

As soon Topper sees you coming, he pushes himself off the tree and rushes to you. His arms engulf you as he presses you to his chest. 

He squats down to be at your level, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re so stupid, Y/N! You just jumped in front of a gun! Why would you do that?!” 

“Because it was pointed at you!” You justify desperately. 

Topper's eyes soften. “You’d risk your life for me?! Are you crazy?!” A soft, breathless, laugh escapes him. 

“Of course I would you idiot!” You remark with frustration. How could he possibly think you wouldn't? You'd do anything for the boy. 

“God, I love you so much," he mutters, placing a hand on either side of your head and planting a kiss on your forehead. 

“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” You check his body in a panic. 

“Yes, yes I’m okay!” He assures you. “Let’s get out of here before things get crazy again." 

Your eyes grow wide. “Agreed!” 

He looks over at you and Topper doting on each other. It makes him even more pissed off. "Great! Go baby him! Tend to your Kook Prince, you Princess!" He yells across the beach. 

John B covers his friend's mouth. "Shut up, JJ!" 

"Jesus JJ!" Pope huffs under his breath. 

You and Topper snap your heads in JJ's direction. As a result, Topper pulls you into his side securely. 

“We'll text you guys later!” Kelce calls out to you both as he and Rafe start backing toward their cars. 

“Stay close to me,” Topper slips his into yours, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m never letting that psycho Pogue anywhere near you again!” 

When you arrive at Topper's car, he opens your door for you. He keeps a sharp eye on the Pogues that remain on the beach. When John B or any of them glance our way, he glares daggers in their direction. Once you climb in, Topper reaches in and begins to buckle your seat belt as though you were a toddler in a car seat. 

“Topper I think I can put on my own seat belt,” you 

“I know, Sweetheart. I’m just..." he stops his action, kneeling beside you. "I guess I’m still a little scared. I was so afraid when that gun was pointed at you, I... I couldn’t breathe. I can never lose you, Y/N,” he rushes out, becoming emotional. 

Your emotions become bottled up as a lump in your throat. You rub your fingers through Topper's hair and plant a kiss on his forehead. His hands glide around your waist to your back, hugging you needly. His head rests against your chest as you cradle it. 

Abruptly, he breaks from you as a thought pops into his mind. “Promises me that if there’s any dangerous situation like that again, you run!" He instructs sternly. "You don’t do anything reckless for my sake!” 

You shake your head frantically, already rejecting his words. “You would’ve done the same thing for me! You basically did!” You justify. 

“I’m seriously Y/N!" Topper stands his ground. Eagerly, he takes removes your hands from his hair and squeezes them in his own. "I could never live with myself if something happened to you! Never again!” 

You want to argue with him on it, claim that if he's going to be protective of you that he must understand that you'll be the same. Yet, nothing escapes you. Instead, you simply nod, not wanting to fight at this moment. 

He nods, satisfied by your compliance. “I love you, you know that right?” 

You nod. “I love you too, Topper." 

_________________________________________

JJ fell into a dark abyss of self-deprecation and destruction after the bonfire. The Pogues all drove back to John B's, but as soon as they got there JJ disappeared as he did the day before. All they can do is wonder where he goes. If they knew that he was at the bar searching for his dad half drunk, they would be stopping a second fight for the day. 

JJ can't help but feel responsible for it all. One minute he has you. You're right there. The next, you're gone, in the arms of Topper of all people. He wants to know if anything from the other night was real for you. Was he just a game to you? You're the Princess of the OBX, you can have anything you want, including JJ if you asked. Is that what happened? You wanted him for a night and then got bored and went back to your fellow Kook. He wishes he hadn't let you down. He wishes you were here. He wishes that he could hold you again and feel you in his arms. Waking up next to you was the best moment in his life and he fears he'll never feel that sort of peace again. 

______________________________________________________

You Topper spend the night at his house, too afraid to be apart. Late into the night, Topper struggles to fall asleep as he holds you. Your back is pressed to his chest as his hands rest against you underneath his shirt you're wearing. Every time he tries to close his eyes, he envisions what could've happened tonight. You could've been shot. Topper could never live with himself if anything happened to you. Moving slowly to not wake you, he rolls onto his back and reaches toward the nightstand for his phone. He begins to scroll through social media and text messages, responding in the group chat between you, Kelce, Rafe, and himself. You've all agreed to go to lunch tomorrow at the Club with some other Kooks from the bonfire. 

You stir next to Topper, making the boy pause for a second. When you roll over still asleep and curl into him, a wave of relief rushes over Topper. 

“Go back to sleep,” you yawn. 

Topper jumps at the sudden sound of your voice. “Shit... sorry Beautiful, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“I’ve been awake. I could feel you overthinking," you whisper, scooting closer into his side. 

“You could feel me thinking?” He repeats with a hint of confusion.

You hum, as it makes perfect sense to you. You hear the sound of Topper pushing his phone back onto the side table. He rests his now free hand over your arm that lays across him. After a couple of minutes, you can still feel the tension radiating from him. 

“I’m okay, Topper,” you tell him to ease his nerves. 

“I know, I can’t just help but review the course of events in my head. What if he didn’t hesitate? What if his hand slipped? What if-“ 

“Enough!” You fly up to prop yourself up on your elbow. You stare down at the worried boy with sympathy. "You’re okay! I’m okay! What’s done is done and all we can do is be safe from now on. We’re safe!” You reach up and comb your fingers through the side of his hair. “Okay? It’s just you and me here.” 

Impulsively, Topper extends his neck and slams his lips to yours. You sit stunned as the kiss rides out its course. You and Topper go months without anything intimate and within two days, he's kissed you twice, breaking every ruled you two have made. When you don't react, Topper breaks from you with a startled expression, as if he wasn't comprehending his actions. 

“Y/N, I'm sorry! I-“ 

Before Topper can finish his sentence, you press your lips to his hungrily. You're not sure why, but you need him. Topper is your kryptonite, the bittersweet reality in your life. Forgetting his regret, Topper immediately sits up, resting against his headboard. You take the opportunity to straddle his torso and he keeps you steady with his hands on your hips. It's been ages since you've made out, but it's like riding a bike for you two. You know what each other likes and what gets the other going. 

"I've missed you so much," Topper whispers against your jawline as he moves down to leave marks on your neck. He aggressively attacks your sensitive skin where evidence of JJ remains. Deep down in the back of your mind, you know Topper is parking his territory for JJ to see later. Your skin has become a battleground for the two. "I've missed this." 

"Me too," you pant, silently wondering if you truly mean it in the same sense as him. 

Though you chose to kiss Topper back and want to, you can’t understand why JJ’s face enters your mind the moment you do. As you deepen the kiss with Topper, you chase the sensation he’s giving you. You're addicted to the way he makes you feel, it's familiar and reminds you of a time when you were carefree. Yet, your thoughts remain fixated on JJ. You want Topper, but all you can think about is JJ. 

__________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things @hockeybabe87 @jolomez

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo 2

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ Oral M receiving, daddy kink, someone walks in

Word count: 5.7k

Chapter Two

The light streaming in through the window woke you up. You curled up in the soft silk sheets, listening to Hannibal’s hums coming from the bathroom. Deciding there wasn’t much more to do than doze, you did just that, taking your time to enjoy your Monday morning. His bed was much softer than the hand me down one you kept at home. You really could lay here forever.

It wasn’t until the bed dipped that you opened your eyes. He was all ready dressed and groomed to the nines. The navy sweater and grey trousers seemed as homey as the man allowed himself to be.

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted.

“Good morning, darling.” Hannibal cupped your face gently, smiling when you leaned into his touch. “It’s marvelous to see you so relaxed, it’s not a sight I get to see often. You’re divine.”

“Devine,” you scoffed in disbelief, “I haven’t had a glimpse of it yet, but I’m sure I look nothing less than a wreck.”

Hannibal’s thumb stroked your jaw, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “When it’s my fault you look so utterly debauched, I can’t lie and say my pride doesn’t play a factor.”

“There it is,” you couldn’t help rolling your eyes as you dropped a kiss to his hand, “Always taking pride in everything you do. However, much to your dismay, I’m going to have to destroy your masterpiece. A shower does sound perfect right now.”

“Of course, I took the liberty of running a bath for you.”

“Sweet man,” you smiled fondly at him.

Bringing you closer he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. As always, he left you wanting more. This time though, you didn’t chase after him. The night of fun was done. All that was left was the goodbye to wrap up the event completely. Some part of you wanted to push that time back.

You hummed lightly, “You enjoy making it hard to not miss you.”

“All the sweeter when we reunite.”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

He tapped your cheek playfully, “Take your bath. I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’re done.”

Getting out of bed, you stretched. Hannibal’s fingertips ghosted along your spine. “From the looks of it, you’d be happier to help.”

“Simply admiring… You truly are a thing of beauty.” he squeezed your hip before taking his hands away, “I’ll leave some of my things for you to wear on the bed.”

Walking into the bathroom, you were taken by the soft scent of nearly familiar perfumes you’d wear, his cologne lingered ever so slightly. A perfect mix of the two. Looking in the mirror, you surveyed the wreckage. Runny mascara, smudged over lipstick, and rather large hickies scattered across your body did make you look like the definition of debauched. The neck didn’t have as much damage, but covering the few there would still be a pain. So much for keeping things hidden from others. Grabbing the pack of makeup wipes on the counter, you started cleaning up knowing you’d find it to be too much of a chore after the bath.

It was welcoming when you finally got into the still warm bath. Hot water made you relax further as your body let go of the last bit of tension it held. The products seemed to match the ones you usually used, if not make yours seem like cheap dupes. Your lip quirked at that realization, the gentleman seemed to have had ulterior motives after all.

You took your time washing up, deciding time to relax was sparse so you may as well take advantage of the small time frame you did have. A soft knock at the door pulled you back to the present. “Afraid I drowned?” You asked teasingly as the door opened.

Hannibal offered a quiet chuckle as he walked over and perched on the side of the tub, “Asleep more like.”

You didn’t bother hiding yourself. He’d probably be able to draw you from memory by now if you were being honest. “I do have a question.”

“What is it, darling?”

You gestured to the soaps, “Did you have any plans in particular for our night?”

“Not exactly. The night ended perfectly- you wouldn’t mind me saying-” Hannibal tapped your chin affectionately when you smiled, “but there wasn’t anything other than pure intentions when I purchased them. The scent reminded me of you and I thought if you drank too much or there was a storm, those kinds of things, it would be good to have something for you to use. Sending you out into possible dangers was never something left to chance. You’d be safer with me.”

“Ever the good host,” you said, taking his word for it, “Thank you for thinking of me, Hannibal.”

“Always.” Hannibal rolled up his sleeves, moving to sit behind you. “Lean back for me.”

You turned to look at him questioningly, “What are you doing?”

“I find it very important to take care of my partners just as much after. You didn’t give me much of a chance last night. While I’m here, I may as well make myself useful.”

Allowing him to turn you forward again before he grabbed the shampoo and conditioner. You sighed heavily as he massaged the shampoo in, his fingers working magic. “You took care of me,” you argued, “Asked me what I wanted and gave it to me. I didn’t want anything else.”

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you,” he stated, running some water through your hair, “I like to make sure nothing was too much or that you’re not telling me if it was.”

“I’m as good as I’ve been in a long time. Really. If I hadn’t wanted something to happen I would have stopped you. Though, if I had known things would have ended like this I would have stopped by when we had more time. Testing before winter break would have been all that much easier.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t be of service earlier,” he mused. “A difficult time that must have been for my sweet girl. Poor thing.”

The urge to sink into the water was strong as you felt the smallest bit of pride at the endearment paired with an equally small bout of jealousy that you shared it with his other partners. It was snuffed out quickly. Perhaps you’d entertain this for a while, but it wouldn’t last. He liked a life that was above and usually too stiff compared to your own. The pair of you weren’t meant to work long term and that was fine. A simple passing thing between friends was the most this would be.

-

Things went back to business as usual after that night. There weren't any intense feelings or need for Hannibal. There wouldn’t be any time to entertain the idea even if they had popped up. Not with this insane work piled on top of you and the final test you needed to study up on. The most you had seen him was in passing or when he’d drop off a meal every so often. Though you wouldn’t lie and say your mind hadn’t found itself wandering every so often.

There was nothing you could do about that, so instead you took shifts, grading work then studying. Rinse and repeating the cycle as long as you could handle it. Your head was pounding before you knew it, but all of this needed to be done. A little bit longer, you reminded yourself as you took a couple headache pills.

The buzzing of your phone vibrating on the desk startled you. “Hi, dad,” you sighed, stuck with this particular pain.

“Hey, pretty girl, how have you been?”

Pretty girl, you scoffed inwardly. You had to give him credit- at least he was pretending to be interested this time. That was rare. “Nothing much. Work. School. The usual. It’s been heavy lately.”

“Yeah, of course, things get like that. So listen, your mom and I are running real low late-“

“I already told you I wasn’t any good for money. I’m barely making ends meet as it is… I already sent you the last $600 I could,” you rested your head in your hands, “I’m sorry.”

“Well, what the fuck do we send you to that school for,” he shouted, “It’s a waste of time. You’re not gonna make anything of yourself. All you do is waste fucking time. Everything we do for you and you just take it all for granted. What type of selfish bitch of a kid doesn’t try to help out her parents?”

“Yeah, dad, I take everything for granted. Putting myself through school should have been a breeze. Juggling school and two jobs? Simple fucking shit right? You should know, right? Wait… you couldn’t even raise your kid could you?” You snapped the stress getting to you. “Why the hell do you always do this to me?”

No response. He hung up. The truth of the matter seemingly too much for him. No. That was too much credit. He knew you wouldn’t send him anything. Try again some other time. Sighing you set the phone down. Your throat felt like it was closing and your head was pounding. A couple tears fell, soon followed by a quiet sob. You didn’t want anyone to see, but the stress was getting to you. Try as you might, you weren’t made of stone.

You hadn’t noticed when Hannibal had walked in for a usual evening check up. “Darling girl,” his accented voice was laced with worry as he walked toward you, “What’s wrong?” Hannibal crouched near your chair as he wiped away your tears.

“Everything went to my head. It’s nothing. I’m okay,” you swallowed thickly, as you attempted to stop the crying and sniffling, not meeting his eye just yet.

Hannibal grabbed your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. “Nothing more?”

“Nope,” you shook your head, giving him a slight smile, “Just school and a headache. Thank you for checking on me. I appreciate it.”

He looked you over, not believing you but unwilling in prodding you further. “It seems a break is in order.”

“I can’t, Hannibal,” You gestured to the papers and books around the desk, “The sooner I’m done with all this the better. I just want to go home.”

Hannibal started to pick up your things, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer this time. “We’ll go to my office, you’ll eat, I’ll grade the work and ask you questions. Follow me.” Before you can get a word in, he turned heel, leaving you to quickly scramble behind him.

The office had the same comforting feel his home did. Though you weren’t sure many besides you felt comfort in his presence. Hannibal Lecter was by all means an intimidating man, even when you did feel like you were close to him. Closer now, you corrected thinking about the fading bruises under your shirt and the sweater he had let you borrow that you had yet to return. Still there was something about his presence that invoked a feeling of calm in you, even with that spike of something questionable. He seemed to always have all the answers and knew exactly what to do with any situation.

“Here,” Hannibal placed a Tupperware and drink on your side of the desk, “You really shouldn’t be spreading yourself so thin, love. It isn’t good for such a delicate thing.”

“I’m hardly delicate.” You grabbed the food giving him a grateful smile. “I’ve got it all handled. It’s just finals and everything stacked up. The future. I stumbled a bit, is all.”

Hannibal sat on his side and started shuffling through your papers. “Nonetheless, I wish you didn’t strain yourself so much.”

“Not all our days can be a nice weekend together,” you pecked at the salad, as much as you wanted to grab some papers off the stack you knew he would never allow it, “Life is still as frustrating as ever.”

“What did they say?” Hannibal asked, nipping the problem at the bud. If you wouldn’t start the conversation he would.

You sighed, “Something along the lines of ‘waste of time’ and ‘selfish bitch’ really wasn't the worst thing he's ever said. I was just already at my endpoint. I’m pretty sure if I dropped my pen I would have had a similar reaction.”

“Being at your end doesn’t justify mistreatment.”

“I know,” you shrugged, “but I don’t have it in me to argue anymore. Deaf ears and all that. What’s the point?”

“The point is making it known that you won’t tolerate that behavior.”

“I’m just tired and disappointed. A part of me is considering just going into the world on my own. The only family that really cares has passed on, what’s the point of hoping my parents would ever consider changing.” You coughed lightly, clearing your throat. This was too much of a therapy session for your taste. “I’ve already made it up in my head that I’m going to wait a year before getting back in school. You know, save any penny I can. These past four years even with aid and scholarship money has been hell. I’m going to be 24 and there’s still just so much to do.”

“I can’t say I envy you,” Hannibal shook his head, “The uncertainty in those years is unmatched.”

“It’s hard to imagine you uncertain of anything. You seem to always know exactly what to do.”

Hannibal scoffed lightly, “Only because time has granted me certain wisdoms. When I was younger I was lucky enough to appeal to someone with my artistic talent and stories of my past. Though I’d like to think it was the former that earned me my scholarship. I may not have had the exact struggles you did, but we’ve all been through situations we needed to push past. It comes in time. Once you get there, you’ll go through life with grace.”

“Well, I don’t have any reservations about using my past. Would you be my mentor?” You joked, for the most part.

“A five year forward request,” he mused, “Are you certain you’d enjoy me that much as a mentor?”

“Someone is gonna have to teach me the ropes,” you shrugged, “We’re more than comfortable with each other and I already know how pleasurable time with you can be, why not learn a couple of things from your infinite wisdom?”

His lip quirked, “Glad to know your thoughts are nothing less than wholesome.”

“Only the purest.”

You ate your dinner as he asked questions. It was a bit unfair, probably, you knew he had helped form the test. Then again, you knew your boss and it was more than likely all of Hannibal’s work. So this little run was sure to be a preview of what to expect. Still, the questions he asked were far from simple, despite how much you studied. Sometimes a raised brow would tell you, you needed to think again. Other times you’d get a soft praise thrown your way that would immediately make you think of when he was against you.

“A few more for me, darling girl. You’re doing so well.”

Your face heated up as you remembered the exact moment he said something nearly identical.

Hannibal looked at you over a paper, a smirk playing on his lips, “You’re looking a bit distracted, are you alright?”

“You know what you did, jerk.”

“Do I?” He laughed.

You shook your head, “You’re unbelievable.”

Hannibal continued grading, rattling off questions off the top of his head. You mind however, wandered. Answering his questions absentmindedly, more preoccupied with memories than the matter at hand. The way his hands felt. His breath against your chest as he chased his high. The gentleness the morning after as he helped you into his clothes, giving you a last kiss before breakfast. A lingering regret at not getting to thank him back properly. He would be the perfect distraction now that you thought of it.

“I won’t help you if you prefer to daydream.”

“I wouldn’t be daydreaming if you didn’t decide to help me in the first place.”

“Touché.”

“Think I’m all done studying. I’m tired of it,” you sighed, stretching, “I want to do something else.”

Hannibal looked at you, brow raised. “What’s that sweet girl?”

You shook off some nerves. As much as the two of you had already done, he was still an intimidating man. His eyes followed as you stood and walked around the desk. Hannibal brought your hand up to his lips. You trailed it along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble that just started coming in, buying yourself some time to steady yourself. A raised brow questioned what you’d do next, but otherwise he leaned into your touch.

“I wanted to thank you for everything. For how good you are to me.”

“I don’t expect anything in return,” he assured.

“Yeah, I know,” you sunk to your knees in front of him, tracing your fingertips up and down his thigh slowly, looking up at him, “but I want to take care of you too.”

He toyed with a strand of your hair, looking almost bored as he leaned back in his chair. “That isn’t necessary, little one, I enjoyed watching you.” Still there was a glint of something in his eye that told you he was interested, merely teasing with the show he just wanted something more from you.

You bit your lip, pondering at what he had deemed missing. The title. A thing that had slipped past your lips embarrassingly but one he had used with stupor throughout the night. Hands settling on his knees, you pushed them apart so you could settle there more comfortably. A pout, “Please, daddy, I’ve wanted to since we met.”

“Always an eager plaything,” he sighed checking the clock on the wall, “I suppose daddy can make some time for his girl.”

That was enough for you to start undoing his belt. Despite the bored act, his half hard cock betrayed him and told you exactly how much he had been interested. You palmed him through his boxers, he didn’t give you the pleasure of hearing anything from him, but that’s alright you didn’t mind earning it. Once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you pulled him out of the boxers. Leaning back on your knees you took it in, unsure if you could fit the length of it in completely.

Hannibal took in your hesitation. Using a finger he tilted your head up to look at him in the eye. “We don’t have to do anything if you aren’t okay with it now. A change of mind is more than alright.”

“No. It’s not that I want to,” you licked your lips, as if to prove how okay you were you wrapped your hand around him, thumb tracing a prominent vein, “I was just wondering if it would fit all the way in.”

He let out an amused huff, shaking his head, “I’m sure you’ll try your best, ridiculous girl.”

Leaning in you pressed a kiss to the head. Just a little more time to work up the courage. You kissed along the shaft, mapping out every vein. Your tongue traced its way back up, catching a taste of precome that had beaded on the head. An encouraging hand threaded itself in your hair, never pushing for more than you were willing to give.

A knock at the door, interrupts the scene.

“A moment,” Hannibal calls out to the person. “Get under the desk,” he said as he started to hide away any evidence that he was with anyone. Your appearance wasn’t completely ruined, not to his taste at least, but the messed up lipstick and slightly ruined hair wouldn’t take much mental work for someone to come to the correct conclusion.

Taking his instruction you got under the desk as he fixed his own appearance, suit jacket over his arm to hide himself. Walking over to the door, “Mr. Henderson,” he greeted, pleasantly, “Please, come in.”

“Hannibal, sorry about stopping by so late,” you heard the door close as the two walked over.

“Nonsense. If anything, the company is welcomed.” Hannibal took his seat, pulling his chair in close, to make sure you were hidden away.

“I was actually going to see if I could convince you to stay.”

Mischief sparked as you grew bored with their droning conversation. Thankfully he had decided to get rid of his belt fully. It didn’t take much to free him again. He spread his legs, attempting to give you the most space possible under the cramped desk. You pumped him in your hand, getting him back to how you had him. The other hand tugged softly at his balls. You wouldn’t be able to put him in your mouth properly with this angle. Instead you satisfied yourself with sucking on the sides of his cock.

“The students adore you,” the other man countered whatever Hannibal had said, “Honestly your classes are killing Jacob’s with every exam.”

“I take great pride in my students. They are an extension of myself. How well they do is a direct reflection of my skill as a teacher,” he sighed, “I have a couple of people in mind that could fill my roll, I’ll ask people to see who’s interested.”

“Still Jacob’s is slacking too much, I may take away his student aid privileges. I see her around here more often than I ever see him.”

You gave a particularly hard suck to a seemingly sensitive spot as his hips had stuttered ever so slightly. No evidence of any misconduct came from his voice as he said, “Oh her? She is a very good girl. Motivated. Never complains about a thing.”

You felt Hannibal throb against your mouth. Taking a break you leaned your head on Hannibal’s thigh, as fun as it would to mess with him more, you knew he took great pride in his social image. Besides, you had wanted Hannibal’s full attention anyway. His hand came down to your hair, subtly showing that he was still paying attention to you to the best of his abilities.

They talked a while longer, before Henderson finally left. Hannibal had pulled out a stack of papers, motioning like he was going to work on grading, and politely asked him to lock the door as he left. When it was clear he pushed his chair away from the desk. You made your way out smiling at him.

“Someone seems very happy with themselves.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“But did you ask permission?” Hannibal asked as worked himself lazily.

You faltered slightly under his gaze, “Well...no.”

“And do you think you deserve any type of reward for that stunt?”

“...I hope so.”

“I’ll forgive it,” he decided, “only because you’re so eager and we never set ground rules. But now it’s on my terms.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded obediently, not wanting to receive one of Hannibal's punishments just yet.

Hannibal used your hair to pull you closer. You stumbled on your knees catching yourself on his thighs. “Since you were so unsure if you could fit in daddy earlier, after that little stunt, I’m sure you’re feeling better now. Aren’t you?”

The hand in your hair pushed you down. You closed your mouth around the tip. Hannibal groaned quietly, letting you work your way down. Bobbing your head you took more of him deeper every time, but those last two inches were proving difficult. Gripping your hair, he pulled you off of him.

His breath was coming in quick pants, brushing your hair away from your face. “Do you need help, darling?”

“I can’t fit it daddy.” It came out in a breathless whine.

“Yes, you can. Be a good little mouth and let me do the work.”

Again he pushed you onto his cock. This time he took control. His hand kept you in place as he thrusted his hips up. Without the hesitation you had, he fit himself in quickly. Grinding into your mouth he let you choke around it for a while before pulling you up for air.

“See?” He choked out as he used you again, “Fucking perfect mouth… Daddy’s good girl… taking care of me like she asked.”

His grunted praises and moans were enough to excuse the tear prickling your eyes. Over and over he used your mouth to it’s extent. Seeming to enjoy it most when you did choke on him. Hannibal stopped before he came. Pulling you up off the floor and onto his lap. Wiping away the stray tears that had fallen.

“You’re too good for me.” He kissed your cheek.

“You haven’t finished.” You caught your breath as you curled into his chest. His cologne comforted you. The increasingly familiar scent carved a special place in you.

“I’ll finish later,” he promised, dropping another kiss onto your head, “At the moment, I want to make sure you’re alright. I got carried away.”

“I’m not porcelain, Hannibal,” you intertwined your fingers with his, “I like it when you’re in charge… It gives me a chance to not think of anything.”

“Even so these situations require a lot of trust from your partner.”

You shrugged, as you decided to be honest, “At the moment you seem to be the only person I trust. Besides, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Let’s hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“I can’t see you ever doing that.”

That night Hannibal had taken you home. You received the same treatment you had received the first night you stayed at his house. Mostly you thought it was an apology of some sort for treating you roughly in his office. By some good grace both of you had classes later in the day, allowing you to enjoy the softer side of Hannibal in the morning again.

A new sweater of his joined the one that resides on your futon. You hadn’t thought twice about packing them away when you emptied your apartment out.

-

Life in New York was eventful to say the least. Different but fun. It had been six months since you had graduated. Your friend from high school shared an even shabbier apartment together. You made a couple friends. Picked up jobs at a bar and a bookstore.

“You’re not any fun,” Alex complained as she adjusted her makeup, “You never want to go out with me.”

“I’m tired,” you complained. “Anyway, why would I want to go to a bar when I work at one?”

“To wreak hell on someone that’s stuck in your usual gig.”

“Have fun with the guys.”

She attempted to pull you off the couch a couple more times to no avail. In truth you were happy to have a moment of peace. All honesty she was the driving force in you actually living your life and not just working the entire time. You really did love her for all of that and the experiences you had. However there were times for breaks to be had from everything. And tonight was one of them.

You showered, got dressed in a sweater and shorts, heated up some leftovers. Throwing on a bad 80’s horror flick, you spent your night in splendor. A break was rare and you were gonna use your relaxation time to its extent. Sleep overtook you sometime in the night, only to be woken up by the annoying shrill sound of your phone.

“Al, baby, I love you so damn much, but if you’re gonna bitch at me about not going out tonight. I just might be tempted to murder you,” you muttered sleepily, “I could get away with it.”

“Sweet girl, is that any way to speak to your friends?” A voice you hadn’t heard in a while asked, disappointment clear in his tone.

“Hannibal,” you said lamely, slightly ashamed that that was the first thing he heard from you in months. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you. It’s… It’s been a while.”

“It has been,” he agreed, “In fact, I called to ask if you would like to come to a dinner party.”

You looked at the clock, noting just how late it had been. “You called at two in the morning to ask me to a dinner party?”

“I’ve been busy and you didn’t leave an address for an invitation. It was… spur of the moment.”

“I missed you too,” you sighed, deciding to be the one to voice it, “Yeah, I’d love to go over.”

“Are you planning on staying with me?”

You sighed dramatically, “Suppose I can give a lonely old man some company. What, you couldn’t find anyone as entertaining as me in Baltimore?”

“I’ve got specific tastes.”

“Is that right?”

Alex walked in, the last part of the conversation hitting her ears and the alcohol in her system making her louder. “Is that the daddy? Does he know he’s ruined men for you? Ugh, can you get him over here to loosen you up? I’d appreciate it that so much.”

“I never said ruined, I just sa-“ you realized Hannibal was still on the phone, “Just please, go take a shower, I’ll make you anything you want to eat if you promise to stay quiet.”

Surprisingly she complied, only saying egg sandwich with cheese and bacon in response.

“Ruined?”

“Couldn’t let that skate by?”

“You’re the one talking about me.”

You coughed. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve got specific taste too. Just something happened with someone and I don’t know, I couldn’t get into it that same way. Like with you. They needed me to tell them exactly how… It was just awkward. It wasn’t satisfying. They were nice though.”

“You compare my experience to their experience inexperience,” he deduced. “You enjoy knowing I’ve got everything under control.”

You tried to shake away the blush. “So it seems we’re stuck in similar positions.”

“We are.”

“Hannibal,” you heard someone call out, “When were you thinking of joining us? We didn’t bother you so much you had to leave us that long.”

He asked him for a moment.

“Seems like someone wants your attention,” you commented.

“Does it bother you?”

“Not at all. Just friends having fun right? It would be hypocritical considering I just told you of my night with someone else. As long as it’s nothing serious with whoever that was, we’re fine.”

“They’re nothing. Someone’s too loud nephew. In fact I think he’s rather rude. You know I can’t stand people like that.”

“You’ll survive. Get home safe.”

“I’ll send you the directions in a moment. Have a goodnight little one.”

“‘Night daddy,” the long unused term of endearment fell from your lips easily.

“‘Night daddy,” Alex sighed dreamily from the bathroom door, “God, is the dick really that good? How could it be?”

You hung up the phone. “Can you please not do that next time? He’s really particular about things.”

She raised her hands up in defense. “Whoa, there. He can handle a little joke at his expense when he’s already been down your throat. Now where’s my sandwich?”

“I’m serious Al.” You sighed when you got up from the couch to get to work on your promise. “He makes me feel like I need to be all proper.”

“You’re fine, doll. A dime if I’ve ever seen one. I’m not gonna ruin this for you, if he randomly decided to call you this late,” she took a seat on the counter, taking the water you handed her gratefully, “Do you want that to be a long term thing?”

“Nah,” you threw the bread into the toaster, “I couldn’t live his life. Sure, I like him and I do think he’s fun to hang around. But it just feels like something that will simmer down eventually. We’ll probably meet up a couple more times and it’ll be done. It’s not like we do anything more than end up in bed and sweet talk.”

“I’m telling you, we’d be set if you asked him to be your sugar daddy. Please ask him to take care of you and be his call girl.”

“How about you?” You asked, changing the topic, “Any pretty girls?”

“This one chick at work,” she shook her head, “Fucking goddess of a woman, LN, I’m telling you. I got it bad. She’s got me waiting for her with her coffee orders in the morning like some kind of obedient little puppy.”

“You know her coffee order.”

“Exactly!”

“How’s the commitment issues?”

“I’m gonna have to fucking work through them. Unlike someone, I think I wanna try out the long term thing.”

“Hey!” You cracked the eggs into the oil, “I’m just not up for it right now.”

“Work him out of your system. We’re supposed to be having fun this year.”

You sighed, “I’m trying.”

“I’m telling you we find you a decent lay. You won’t need to be fucking around with that guy.” Your phone chimed. Alex grabbed it off the counter. “The devil works fast doesn’t he? Address and day of the party. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Says he’ll buy you a cute little number.”

“No, tell him I got it.”

“Thank you, daddy. I’ll make it worth your wild. Wink. Send.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I still think he’s ugly,” she shrugged, tossing your phone over, “May as well get a cute dress out of sleeping with him.”

“He’s not ugly. I’ve seen the people you’ve brought home,” You scoffed, handing over the plate.

“Reggie is a fun time! Fuck I miss Reggie.”

“Work chick,” you reminded her.

“Right right.” She argued before taking a bite of the sandwich. “Fine, we’ve both had our questionable older partner moments. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not.”

“Still never called her mommy and that’s a win in my books.”

“I should have never told you that,” you laughed, “I fucking hate you man.”

She pinched your cheek affectionately, “You had your chance to get rid of me. The return policy ran out. You’re stuck. Congratulations.”

“How long until you expire?”

Alex pretended to count it through. “We’re looking at at least 50 years more, if we’re lucky.”

You hummed, “Are you accounting for possible sickness or accidents?”

“I’m immortal for 50 years in between. No arguments at this time please.”

Next Chapter

Tag list: @charc0al-grey

[britishassistant]

Supervillain AU! I formally request the special addition of Yuu’s first kidnapping please.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“Yoo-hoo, Reporter-chan? Wakey-wakey, it’ll be bad for you if you don’t get up soon~”

Yuu shakes their head groggily, the sing-songy voice not helping the pounding in their temple.

“Did someone get the number of the truck that hit me?” They mumble, blinking to try and get their eyes to focus.

“Dammit Deuce, you gave them brain damage.” A familiar, much more annoyed sounding voice said. “Their head’s gonna be all screwy and useless now, dumbass.”

“It was just a lovetap though!” A third voice, also familiar, protested.

The floor finally stopped moving in front of their eyes and Yuu realized some very important things.

One, the floor they were staring at was not the floor of the library where they last remembered being.

Two: Their arms and legs seemed to be tied tight to the arms and legs of an iron garden chair.

Three: There are many odd-looking people standing near them, all in clothes that are too coordinated not to be a uniform but too outlandish to represent a government group of some kind.

Oh Great Seven, Yuu thinks with a rising sort of hysteria. It’s finally happened.

Clowns have come to take me away for not brushing my teeth enough like Mom said when I was little.

“...Are ya sure you didn’t break ‘em?”

“...”

“Deuce.”

Yuu wonders if they should feel offended at being talked around like this.

“Enough of this nonsense!” A hand seizes Yuu’s chin and pulls their head up to face the latest speaker. An imperious-looking young man stands and walks towards the reporter, clicking his fingers. “Three of Clovers.”

A tall man in glasses hands the imperious young man what Yuu recognizes as their wallet. The shorter man glances at the contents disdainfully. “You. First and last name and age, now.”

“Y-Yuu Radcliffe, 23 years.” The reporter stutters, their initial hysteria morphing into a sinking feeling in their gut. If not the clowns, then... “Can I ask who I have the pleasure of talking to?”

“No.” The redhead holding their wallet snaps. “Current occupation and birthday?”

“Field reporter at TWST local news.” They force themselves to relax the fists their hands have balled into. “March 18th.”

Remember what Uncle Divvy always says. Stay calm, act cooperative, do or say whatever you need to to avoid injury. Any supervillains on this level trying to curry favor with or blackmail the dumb bird will have to go through Uncle Divvy first to contact him, and he’ll take care of the rest.

All Yuu needs to do is keep themselves alive until then.

They still can’t help but dread what they know is coming next.

The supervillain seems to notice their distress, and smirks cruelly. He takes his time walking forward and leaning down until he’s on the reporter’s eye level, hands resting on the back of the chair and eyes flicking over their face, almost as if he’s savoring the moment before he makes their life that much more painful.

Yuu braces themselves as he opens his mouth–!

“What is the best type of tea?”

Huh?

“Wait, what? I don’t—” Yuu asks, backpedalling as the supervillain’s face grows stormy at their lack of response. “Uuh...green tea? I guess? I mean, it’s the one I like the most, but I’m more of a coffee or hot cocoa person, so I’m not the best one to ask...”

The person holding their chin sucks in through their teeth and the annoyed familiar voice outside their periphary snickers “Oooh, busted~”

The supervillain is beginning to go as red as his hair, and the reporter can hear his teeth grinding. His hands are now gripping the back of the chair so tight Yuu would almost swear they hear the metal by their ears creak.

“Ri–Royal.” The man with glasses says.

The supervillain inhales and exhales almost violently, until what’s visible of his face under that mask is looking less flushed.

“The correct answer,” He says, voice trembling with emotion. “Was all teas at their due times. To drink green tea instead of rosehip at breakfast, or lemon tea at 8pm...the nerve of your arrogance is astounding!”

Yuu...genuinely isn’t sure how they’re supposed to respond to that. Instead they just go with, “I’m sorry, I’ve never had rosehip or lemon tea. Do you like them?”

“Do I—?!” The supervillain’s mouth works soundlessly, gradually going red again. He pushes off the chair sharply. “I—the ro—i-it’s not a matter of liking!! These are the Rules!! And the Rules must be obeyed!! Three of Clovers!”

“Yes, Royal Flush?” The glasses man asks.

“The reporter is forbidden from having any montblanc after dinner, and will take two cups of lemon tea at 8pm tonight and two cups of rosehip tomorrow at breakfast.” Royal Flush flashes them a cruel smirk. “Consider it a light punishment for your impertinence.”

Yuu blinks. Tries to make sense of what they’ve just heard.

Blinks again.

“You know if you just wanted to ask me out to dinner, I’d have taken a nice invitation or a bouquet. You didn’t need to knock me out and tie me up like this, I’m not that picky. I do have Tinder.”

Glasses guy makes a choking noise and erupts into a coughing fit.

The hand that’s been holding Yuu’s chin migrates to their shoulder for support as its owner lets out an undignified snort and gasps out something that sounds vaguely like “why wasn’t I recording, that was Magicam gold!” as he giggles. He’s a redhead too, but much more orange than his boss.

There’s a sputter of hysterical laughter that has Yuu twisting their head to see the two guys and the cat from the hydroelectric plant, both with these odd-looking metal collars around their necks, but otherwise unharmed. The talking cat is trussed up in so many ropes that it looks more like a bobblehead, also wearing a weird collar.

The third redheaded one is bracing his hands on his knees, wheezing out a litany of “holy shit, holy shit” between chortles. The dark haired one is holding the cat a confused expression, cutting off his friend’s laughter when he turns to ask, “Ace, what’s tinder?”

The momentary silence lets an odd squeaking noise be heard.

One that gradually grows in volume until it’s an outright screech coming from the supervillain in front of them. He’s so red Yuu is honestly worried about his blood pressure, pointing a shaking finger at them.

“I—YOU—YOU—OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

Yuu chokes a little at the feeling of cold metal materializing around their neck, dragging their head down with its weight. The supervillain continues screeching, refusing to even look at the reporter. “YOU—! DUNGEON! RIGHT NOW!! NO DESSERTS!! GO!!”

There’s an awkward moment as Royal Flush turns away from them, as if expecting them to get up and walk out of their own accord while his back is to them.

“...So, does that mean you want them to untie me or something, or...?” Yuu wiggles their firmly bound hands and feet for emphasis.

The supervillian makes a sound like a kettle whistling, before he barks out. “Two of Spades! Ace of Hearts! GET them OUT OF MY SIGHT until they’re WILLING to COOPERATE!!”

The dark haired young man quickly shuffles forward, grabs the back of the chair, and drags it and the poor reporter attached to it out of the room and into the corridor. The metal screeches as it moves from carpet to concrete.

“Wh—Two, no, untie them first.” The man with glasses says, despairing, appearing in the doorway. “You’ll mark up the floor otherwise.”

“Ah! Sorry, senpai!” Two looks between the cat in his arms and the knots on the chair, before shoving the cat into the arms of the redhead who answers to “Ace”. Neither of them look happy with this development.

“Fgnah! Quit squeezing, ya jerk!” The cat protests, wriggling as best it can.

“Oh? What’s that? I’m sorry, I just need to make sure that greatest, lamest supervillain in the city doesn’t escape to go setting random crap in the lair on fire again.” Ace says sweetly, grip tightening.

“Tha’s your fault, an’ you know it!” The cat wheezes out, thrashing harder.

Yuu winces. “Hey, quit hurting him. Whatever he did, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The dark haired minion barks out a laugh as he tugs the ropes away from their right wrist while his redheaded counterpart sneers at them.

“Oh really? Bet you’ll change your tune real quick once you learn it’s thanks to him you’re here in the first place.” Ace of Hearts mocks. “Dumb monster sang like a damn canary when Royal pressured him a tiiiny bit, saying it was all your fault his precious ingredient is now in the sewers.”

“Tha’s a lie!” The monster? cat blurts out too quickly for comfort. “It’s all these two morons, I swear!”

“Why you little—“

“I don’t care.” Yuu cuts in before Two of Spades can hit the animal. “I didn’t destroy that thing, but even if none of you said anything, your boss would’ve found out I was involved anyway from watching my report on it on the news. So I don’t care, just-just quit hurting him.”

There’s a tense moment as the two minions stare down at the reporter. They do their best to meet the gazes without flinching.

Then the Ace of Hearts tosses the cat into their lap as the Two of Spades sinks back down to keep working on their ankle. “Fine. Since you like it so much, you can take care of it. Just don’t expect me to cover for your ass—you still owe me for the power plant.”

“I’m sorry?” Yuu curls their free arm around the bundle of rope, fur, and yowling insults and pulls it closer to them. “Shouldn’t that be the other way round?”

“You locked me in a closet with him!” Ace hisses. “Do you know how hard it was to get out before the cops came with him freaking out and messing stuff up?!”

“Oi.” Two shoots him a dark look from where he’s finished untying the reporter’s left hand. “Like you weren’t whining about us being digested until you knocked a broom over!”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Well excuse me for trying to save your lives.” Yuu bites back, rubbing the rope marks on their wrists. “Next time I’ll just run and let the sludge monster eat your unconscious bodies.”

“It’d save us all the trouble of this shit if you did!” Ace spits, jabbing a finger at his collar. “At least then we wouldn’t be on Royal’s shit list!”

Yuu lets the piece of information they were just given marinate in their brain as they glare at him. Well, now what exactly was that supposed to mean?

“Ngh...this knot won’t come loose.” Two says from by the reporter’s left foot.

“How about now?” Replies an unfamiliar voice, as a disembodied hand pulls deftly at a loop in the rope.

“Ah!” Two of Spades brightens up as the rest of the rope falls away. “Thanks a lot—”

The disembodied hand punches him in the face.

Yuu cries out in alarm at the sight of the minion falling backwards into the Ace of Hearts, knocking him down like a bowling pin.

A pair of clawed hands are then scooping them up, extra cat and all, and the reporter finds themself looking at the unsettlingly wide smile and purple cat ears of one of the city’s top heroes, running at full speed while sharpened playing cards whizz past his face and Ace calls out behind them “Senpai! It’s him again!!”

There’s a percussive boom somewhere in the distance, and screams of how the flamingos are loose as the hero winks down at Yuu. “Seems you’re a popular one today, kitten! But let’s get you back to where you where before you were so rudely catnapped, yes?”

“Not so fast, hero!” The orange haired guy choruses from the entrance to the staircase, and—from behind them as well?

The reporter’s heart sinks as more and more versions of the minion keep popping up around them, to the point where the hero is forced to stand on the bannister of the balcony they’re on.

And based on the fact that the hero hasn’t used his invisibility? Intangibility? powers, it’s likely that he can’t use them while holding Yuu and the cat.

They’re surrounded.

“You really can’t keep your paws out of anything that’s mine, can you?” Royal Flush’s tone is clipped as he glares up at the hero.

“Hey R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero pouts, hugging Yuu closer to his chest. “I come a~ll this way to play, only to find you’ve got a nyew toy you’re already playing with without me! How mean! You guys really are cruel!!”

“We’re sorry about that.” Three of Clovers says, edging closer. “If you just hand the reporter over to Four, they’ll be put away and we can all “play” together, no distractions. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

The hero makes a deliberating noise, holding Yuu out and away from him over the drop, tilting his head this way and that.

His grin grows unsettlingly wider.

“Look, R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero calls out. “Nyo hands!”

Wait, what—

The hero’s body vanishes.

Yuu and the monster cat plummet screaming past the illogically winding staircases of the evil lair.

Yuu tries to angle their body so that the frantically crying cat will be shielded from the brunt of the fall—!

“NO!!”

There’s a sound like glass shattering, and a feeling of being enveloped in something soft, cold and buoyant. The two of them bounce a few times and land back on it more gently each time.

Yuu cracks open their eyes to see that they’re seated on a strange, red, jelly-like mass. The cat in their arms tentatively sniffs, and then lunges to take a bite out of their cushion before the reporter can stop him.

“Shtrawberry?” He says through a full mouth. “Tashtes good!”

The reporter grabs him before he can go for another bite, a little thrown by his speed now that collar isn’t weighing him down. But where did this thing come from–?

Yuu looks up.

Royal Flush is leaning dangerously far over the balcony countless flights of stairs above them, one arm outstretched down towards them.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Then clawed hands fasten around Yuu’s waist again with a cheery “Nyow wasn’t that fun?” and Royal Flush visibly tenses and begins screaming things after the escaping hero that are barely legible through his rage.

The hero deposits them both outside the TWST news station with their wallet and phone back in their pockets. He at least helps them untie the monster cat, who promptly declares he just let them protect him, and scarpers.

Of course the hero is gone too when Yuu turns back around, before they can ask him what the hell he was playing at, dropping them like that, was he insane?! If Royal Flush hadn’t interfered...

The reporter has to fight the urge to lose their lunch.

Their boss rushes out and envelopes them in a surprisingly powerful hug, the woman almost lifting the reporter off their feet as she babbles about whether or not Yuu needs a hospital after getting kidnapped by one of the seven major supervillains.

Yuuken is quick to join the embrace with a bear hug of his own. He pulls back, fingers prodding gently at Yuu’s bruised temple and declaring he’ll drive them to hospital to make sure they don’t have a concussion.

He graciously waits until they’re in the car to ask why Yuu smells so much of strawberries.

The reporter can only give a half answer, partly because they don’t want to worry him, and partly because they have another question of their own buzzing incessantly around their brain.

Why was Yuu kidnapped in the first place?

Royal Flush never even mentioned Crowley, despite all the chances he had to do so. Not even an oblique or confusing metaphor or code. Does that mean he’s ignorant of the connection between Yuu and the League?

But if that’s the case, it circles back around to the first question: why kidnap Yuu to begin with?

Somehow the reporter doubts it was to just ask their tea preferences or invite them to dinner.

Those minions referred to that monster as Royal Flush’s “precious ingredient”. Ingredient for what? Is there something that Royal Flush thinks they witnessed that’s integral to a scheme? Did they witness something and just not realize it’s significance?

Yuu’s reporter senses are screaming that there’s a deeper story to uncover here. Yuu’s common sense is screaming that investigating the dangerous plans of the supervillain they’ve just escaped from is a terrible idea.

Though he could have just...let them fall. But he didn’t. And won’t he just kidnap them again regardless?

...

This is a terrible idea.

But if Yuu’s common sense was stronger than their reporter senses, then they wouldn’t be in this city in the first place, would they?

[renaerys]

Okay I've got one: Prompt 15 with Reds. 🤣🤣🤣

15. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying, I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”

Somehow they can make even breathing a competition.

Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.

List of prompts

xxx

“So, we’ve called the paramedics and they’re on their way, but until they arrive it’s up to us. Remember the acronym, kids: C-A-B. What’s the first thing you do?”

Aiyeesha Simpson, a gunner in the making destined for academic greatness and social ruin, raised her eager hand. “Find a flat surface to lay him down!”

“Correct.” Blossom took Brick by the shoulders and shoved him down to the floor. A gaggle of Girl Scouts gathered around him as he wheezed for air.

“Ow,” he said.

Blossom patted his chest. “Please choke more quietly.”

I will end you, he thought so loudly he hoped she could hear him through the murder in his eyes. There was community service, and then there was cruel and unusual punishment. When his required hours were up and his record expunged, he was going to write a very negative Yelp review of the local Townsville Girls Scouts of America chapter and tank this year’s cookie sales. Supremely annoying, outrageously petty, and totally legal. That would teach Blossom for sure.

“Place your hands here between the nipples.”

Some of the Cadette Girl Scouts giggled. To be fair, Blossom of all people saying the word nipples in reference to her former mortal enemy as she trained a room full of twelve-year-old girls in CPR using him as the dummy was a perfect storm of absurd and kinky that he did not see coming. And now he was giggling himself, because he was a teenaged boy who thought the word nipples was funny regardless of the very clear contextual cues, and that pubescent shame was on him, one hundred percent.

Blossom, an ancient and inconveniently attractive evil resurrected in a lab for the sole purpose of making his life miserable, did not appreciate his amusement. “Push hard at a rate of 100 to 120 compressions per minute. Remember to put your bodyweight behind it, like this.”

Brick flexed, and Blossom pushed against his heart like she was trying to crush it in her hands. Once, twice, three times she administered compressions, and Brick’s eyes glowed red with impotent rage.

“Assist Blossom with her CPR lessons to her satisfaction, and we can forget this ever happened,” Mayor Bellum had promised Brick when he lost his temper and blew up an (empty) ambulance. Butch didn’t need his Super stomach pumped no matter how much he drank, so the ambulance and the four-figure bill that came with it were completely unnecessary. This defense did not convince the mayor, however.

The promise of the bill forgiven and his record cleared—and the deterrence of Aiyeesha Simpson filming the whole thing to upload to YouTube later—gave Brick the strength not to eye beam Blossom in front of the children.

“Okay, who wants to try chest compressions on the dummy?” Blossom offered to the girls.

You evil bitch, thought the aforementioned dummy.

After the third little girl properly placed her sticky, little girl hands between his nipples, Brick had had enough. “Hey, I’m still dying over here. Can we move on already? Jesus Christ.”

“Of course.” Blossom smiled, and she had never looked more terrifying.

Brick hoped Butch was suffering. He hoped he was hung over so bad he couldn’t piss standing up. He hoped Butch tried going online only to find that Brick had disconnected the Internet and cut him off from all his online games and porn because fuck Butch and his weak-ass stomach.

“Who knows what the next step is? Maybe someone other than Aiyeesha this time?”

None of the other girls seemed willing to stick their hands up. The carpet under Brick had scorched where his power leaked out in his building resentment for this entire situation. The smell of burned polyester just made him feel even more powerless to stop this.

“No? Okay, well, remember the acronym. A is for airway. You want to be careful about a possible neck injury, so gently lift the chin…”

Blossom’s hands were not sticky like the Girl Scouts’ hands, but they were cold where they touched his skin and forced his head back.

“Are the paramedics here yet?”

Brick got a tight fist in his short hair for that one, and he considered it a small victory. “No. Something about a shortage of ambulances, apparently.”

Biiiiiiiitch.

God, he was going to destroy her so bad.

“Once you’ve cleared the airway and confirmed there are no obstructions—”

“Then you kiss!”

Some girls picked up the giggling again. Blossom, ever the professional, cleared her throat. “Mouth to mouth is a life-saving procedure and not something I’d recommend doing to someone you plan to kiss.”

Wow, great advice.

Some girls still giggled and whispered to each other. Brick had a sinking feeling that this was only going to end with his embarrassment: everyone knew that the cold judgment of pre-pubescent girls was the absolute worst type of judgment a person could suffer.

“Are you gonna show us?”

“Well, I don’t think I need to show you all how to breathe—”

“It’s in the manual! You have to demonstrate every step.” Aiyeesha waved the CPR manual, and Brick realized his misjudgment. She was no vapid goody two-shoes in the making, but a future Honors Student with a secret, a Work Hard Party Harder, an Ivy League Early Decision candidate with all of senior spring semester to slack off because no one was ever going to touch her 4.3 GPA.

Aiyeesha beamed a winning smile at Brick, and it was as chilling as Blossom’s.

Jesus Christ, there are two of them.

True to form, Blossom had never been able to defy a good instructions manual. “I suppose if it says so in the manual…”

Locking lips with Blossom was not a big deal. He’d done it before when they were kids, and he could appreciate the irony of a gesture meant to save his life this time rather than end it. She didn’t even try to mess with him by using her ice breath, just went through the motions as described in the instructions. The girls were disappointed with the lack of hormonal fanfare of it all, which was probably for the best. Leave it to Blossom to make mouth to mouth the sexless, medical act it was literally intended to be. He was almost upset, because it felt like she’d won something here, which could only mean he’d lost.

Disappointed but more educated than they’d been when they’d arrived two hours ago, the Girl Scouts dispersed after the lesson, leaving Blossom and Brick to put away the equipment they’d used.

She held a dummy torso, and she was looking at him with that pinched, constipated look she got when she was about to say something especially snobby. Instead, she surprised him. “Brick, thanks for being mature about it. I can honestly say you surprised me.”

He stared at her.

“I’ll talk to Mayor Bellum. I’m sure you’ve done enough to meet your hours quota.”

He had not fulfilled even half of his required community service hours and they both knew it.

“So yeah, thanks. I can finish up here if you want to leave.”

Was she trying to get rid of him? Why?

“Brick? Why are you looking at me like that?”

When Blossom was winning, he was losing. That was simply the way of the world. So, if she was losing, it could only mean he was winning.

“Are you listening to me?”

Brick smiled in what he hoped was a cool, sexy way if he imagined looking at anyone but Blossom. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying. I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”

Blossom stared. “I’m sorry?”

He would make her sorry.

“Yeah, you’re a great teacher. I could really feel your passion for demonstrating the lesson correctly. With your mouth.”

Her staring intensified. “Did you.”

“Oh, yeah.” He leaned his hip against the table like he’d seen in the movies. It worked for Daniel Craig in Casino Royale, and that guy had convinced Eva Green. Iconic. “I could really feel you trying to save me.”

Where was Aiyeesha with her phone to film this? There was so little he could do to rattle Blossom as they got older, and while the challenge delighted him, it was also exhausting being constantly a step behind her. Was this truly her demise? Had he won the Teenage Experience? Was this poetic justice for how she’d once killed him with a mere kiss, only to suffer the same fate in turn? He could have cackled. This was better than trolling the Girl Scouts of America reviews, although he might still do that because it was a genius idea and he had always indulged his own genius ideas when they came to him.

So infatuated was he with his own self-fellating digression that he was slow to react to Blossom sidling up to him. Her hand was still cold on his chin, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “Shall I save you again?”

Brick’s dignity drained with his blood, which was an unfortunate side-effect of being a teenaged boy that he would just have to suffer. But winning was about recognizing one’s weaknesses and working around them. He leaned into her personal space. “Please.”

He wasn’t sure who kissed who first, but it was happening and all he could think was I am better at this than you and I hate you and also Do that again. He tried holding her waist, and she fought back with her fingers in his hair. Not one to be deterred, Brick tried some tongue but pulled back when he tasted thirty degrees below zero. He immediately went back in because he could feel her superiority, her Got you, you horny idiot, but the joke was on her because he liked her cold, always had when it was hot as balls out and he’d make up any excuse to pick a fight with her just for the chance to cool off.

The Girl Scout troop leader walked in on them competitively making out in the classroom like it was an Olympic sport and put an end to things, leaving them at a frustrating draw for now. They said barely a word to each other when Brick glared at the troop leader so bad she flustered and didn’t even question them before running out of there with some excuse about getting the wrong room.

Later that evening, Brick caved and changed the Internet password back just so Butch would quit whining at him. He Googled kissing techniques and spent the next hour and a half watching YouTube videos and reading GQ articles about How to Please Her Like a Champion, because he was a champion and a winner and he was not going to lose to Blossom in this. Not a chance.

This had to be what they meant when they said kill with kindness.

“I’m going to end you,” he muttered to himself as he read about the top ten highest voted movie kissing scenes, which he would then stream and commit to memory in order to be fully armed and armored for the next time he encountered Blossom alone in a classroom. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe during their shared free period.

Truly, he had the most genius ideas.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

[kuroos-moon]

≫ Incomplete

pairing: miya atsumu x reader

tags: lovers to exes, fluff to angst 

warning/s: cheating, angst

wc: 1.8k

part two: complete

You were always a pair, Atsumu and you; not in the way he and Osamu are, but in the sense wherein the weather didn’t decide for him whether his day would be gloomy or not, for the vibrance of his day solely depended on you.   

The sun could shine into every dark nook around him, and yet brightness is only blinding to him if you’re nowhere to be seen in the light. On the other hand, even if heavy rain decided to soak his shoes and clothes, the sky a single color which is a boring gray, the world through his eyes—is nothing but warm, glowing, and euphoric. 

And as he stares back at your lit-up eyes through the thick shower of rain, hearing your hearty laughter above the weather’s unforgiving noise, he realized that you are his world after all. 

Years later and you’re rooted even deeper from wherever he stood, in fact, you had easily become his home. It mattered none that you still don’t live together, it mattered even less that your relationship was kept secret all for the sake of your privacy. What truly mattered to you both, was the unbreakable trust you had in each other, the very trust that made your love grow and last this long.

“I’ll miss ‘ya, don’t forget to eat on time, okay?” Though hooded, strands of his disarray blonde hair still stuck out cutely, and you busy yourself by pushing back his hair as if it were important right now. 

“Y/n,” he sighs, taking both your small, shaky hands in his warm, big ones. This is hard for him too. 

He scans your face, having memorized how your brows would furrow above your teary eyes, how your lips would quiver and your hands would shake before you cried—he knew that this parting would involve much of your tears yet again. 

“I’m fine, I- I’m not gonna cr- 

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, sobs already erupting from your throat as he pulls you into his chest, an arm tight around your waist while his other hand rests behind your head, securing you to himself. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he softly mumbles, head dipped down beside your ear as he rocks you gently along with him, he always hated having to leave you after such little time spent together.

The bus ride to the hotel four towns away from where you lived was excruciating. You weren’t overdramatic when you cried earlier, he never thought that of you; it’s just that your time for each other had greatly been narrowed down to phone calls and irritatingly short meet ups, he understood why you were so sad. 

And whose fault is that? His subconscious asks almost instantly.

Come to think of it, it’s always you who had to alter your life around his. Of course, he didn’t just think of it now, but only right then did it hit him that your relationship had gone too imbalanced for he doesn’t know how long—it made him sick to think that he could ever do that to you.

You were both givers in your relationship, but lately all he’d done was take. 

Resting his chin on his palm as he stares out the window, flashbacks of your years together played beautifully in his mind, his eyes closed and a small smile on his lips. Today was a Wednesday.

He’ll be home by Friday if he’d be lucky enough to ditch their manager and the celebratory party he couldn’t really care less for, not compared to you. If not, he’ll see you Saturday morning. 

Either way, he knows he has to purchase the ring on Thursday night.

He goes over his plan, excitement rushing through him as he visualizes how happy he’ll make you; and he’ll give all of himself to make up for the tears he caused you when he was too busy to make you feel like you weren’t alone. 

For starters, announcing your engagement on Sunday morning after proposing on a Saturday date night, and just to flaunt, he’ll post his favorite picture of you both in his socials. Well that’s assuming you don’t refuse, it’s highly unlikely anyway.

Next, he’ll offer you his undivided attention. No more passing out in bed right after practice and missing the chance to see you, no more relying on the fact that you’ll wake up whatever time he calls or comes over, insensitively disrupting your sleep or plans for the day. 

Lastly... moving in has been long overdue. With your engagement out to public, there’s no reason to have separate houses anymore. Just the thought of cradling you whenever he wants to, no longer needing to travel and be cautious, has him almost bouncing on his seat.

He’ll be the best husband, and he knows you’ll be an awesome wife—did I say wife? He’s getting too far ahead of himself. His teammates only look at him weirdly as he covers his face with both hands, an inexplicable muffled scream of fluster leaving his lips.

Plans were beautiful, especially when he meant to fulfill them with all of his heart and with all of his being. Small things lead to big changes though, for better or worse, he just wishes he went home right away that night.

You awoke at dawn on a Saturday to a car pulling up outside your house. Still clueless of the world as you’re fresh from sleep, mindlessly looking through your window, immediately brought to your senses when you see their manager’s car. 

Racing down the stairs and past the door, you could almost scream in happiness when you see him get off the car. But something’s weird, he looked out of it from where you stood on your doorstep, and he had an arm around Hinata’s shoulders as the latter supported your boyfriend who couldn’t even walk straight. 

“Hey, what happened?” You’re quick to wrap an arm around him as you took Hinata’s place in guiding him to your home. 

“Shoyo?” He too, seemed out of it. He looks at you with sad eyes, almost as if he came bearing bad news when in fact you’re so grateful he brought Atsumu to you.

“Something happened, y/n.” 

That was all the orange left you with but it didn’t really matter much to you, you’re far too preoccupied with taking care of Atsumu. 

“Why did you even drink a lot,” you scoldingly say under your breath, hands cupping both his cheeks so he would finally look at you. “What’s wrong, ‘Tsum?” 

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, swatting your hands away before he stands up and walks past you, shakingly running his hands through his blonde locks in frustration.

“What is it?” You ask, hurt by his rejection and his tone. He wasn’t always the nicest person, but to you, he’d never as much as raise his voice or snap at you like that ever since he matured after highschool. 

“I’m sorry,” he turns around, and you only look at him in confusion.

“I- I kissed someone else,” he softly says without warning, as if it were something casual and painless.  

“What?” 

You never thought that he would be capable of doing that to you, in fact, you understood that he was kissed without him wanting to be kissed—the problem is that he kissed back. He could’ve easily hidden it from you, yet you both knew he couldn’t live with it. 

On his knees before you as you sat on the bed, he cries on your lap as you lightly run your fingers through his hair. The world for you both came crashing down, he could already feel you slip through his fingers at every apology he sobbed out, his chest aching so much as he forces himself to wake up from this nightmare. 

He never woke up though, because it bitterly wasn’t a dream. Glancing up to look at you through his tears, he knew he had shattered you beyond repair—a single night was all it took—when all of more than five years together, he had spent nurturing you with so much care and affection. 

What agonized him the most was the void look in your eyes, he had destroyed what you both had, and deep down he knew that it will take eons if not forever for you to love someone else. If only he could take away your hurt, if only he hadn’t done what he did, if only he went straight home to you. 

“What now, ‘Tsum?” You ask him, lost and almost dead inside, but you still had the heart to hold him against you because truth is, this would be your last night together. 

“Be happy and go on with your life,” he lowly says. Contrary to how his words held meaning of parting, he hugs you even tighter to himself. 

“Without you?” 

He almost chokes at the lump on his throat, but he had managed to be firm with his resolve—it’s the least he could do for you. 

“Yes. Without me,” he says the words he never wanted to say, kissing your temple when you cry once more into his chest.

You were always a pair, Atsumu and you; not in the way he and Osamu are, but in the sense wherein one could never be without the other. 

So what becomes of a torn-apart pair? 

What you had was something you both would call shatterproof to an extend beyond bounds, but what you didn’t know was that when shatterproof things do what they aren’t ever expected to do—when they do break, tear, and shatter—everything else crumbles as severely as how strong the ‘unbreakable’ was supposed to be. 

You’re just two souls who had become one, now separated and agonizingly partial and incomplete.

You still read two zodiac signs and leave space for him in bed, taking into account years of him suddenly sneaking in your room to sleep beside you and getting up before you even woke. You’re stuck in a cycle of always thinking for two and not only yourself, in every decision you make or thoughts you thought over, at the back of your mind, you’d wonder what he would think about it or what he’d tell you if he were still with you. 

And as he stares back at your lit-up eyes through the thick shower of rain, hearing your hearty laughter above the weather’s unforgiving noise, he realized that you are his world after all. 

To Atsumu since your parting, his rainy days were just that—rainy. Even in nice weather he could only lock himself alone in his room, praying that you were enjoying the sun unlike him; for every little detail of his life revolted back to the thought of you, like how he’d stare longer at his hand, almost imagining a translucent image of your fingers slipping through the gaps of his. 

The ring he had bought? He kept it hidden in his shelf, and for as long as he’s alive he’ll keep it as a painful but much deserved reminder of a life with you that could’ve been. 

General Taglist [Open]: @noyasbitchh @dinablossom @haru-the-secret @strayczennies @lalisbitch @tinymidgetsstuff @animebs @astrealia @kittykitkatstrawberry @hajimesbbygrl @kellesvt @24hr7dysdizzy @arnxldss @elianetsantana @vicassa @floraraine @beanst0ck @leinnah @kageyamasgirl @deafeningart @minibobabottle   @franko-pop @moonlightaangel @throughtheinterstices @micasaessakusa @dixonsbugaboo @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @ultzuko @yappychan @dipsydoo542 @devilgirlcrybabiey​ @bakugohoex​

[onceuponamirror]

ghosts

Faintly, Nancy can hear the waves crashing into the shoreline down the road. A buoy rings against the water. She takes a breath. “So…you don’t regret not leaving?”

“Do you?” He counters, as if knowing she wasn’t just talking about him anymore.

[set between 2x05-2x06] [read on ao3!]

“What’re you thinking about?”

Nancy turns to look over her shoulder, surprised to see Ace standing there, hands in the pockets of his puffer. He has a smile emerging from the corner of his mouth, which broadens slightly after a moment. “You look super serious. Am I interrupting something heavy?”

“What? No,” she says, clearing her thoughts, and echoes his grin. “I just thinking about…ghosts.”

“Ghosts,” Ace repeats, and drops into the seat beside her. She’s sitting on the table, whereas he’s planted on the bench, and yet they’re still at eye-level.

She blows out a breath and shakes her head slightly. “Yeah, ghosts. With everything happening so fast last month, I feel like…I didn’t fully process…” She pauses, and waves her hands for exaggeration, “Ghosts. They’re real.”

He furrows his brow, as if waiting for her to continue, or to finish her thought.

Nancy falls back on her palms, glancing up briefly at the darkened sky. “It’s just—I’m supposed to be this…Hero of Horseshoe Bay, or whatever they want to call me in the papers. I don’t really care about that but—solving mysteries is the only thing I’ve been good at, and…”

Ace passes her a slightly mischievous smile. “Is this about me coming for your title? I’m a ‘Hero’ too.”

She rolls her eyes and bumps his shoulder with her own. “No, it’s…I make logical leaps. That’s all it is. How can you make logical leaps with supernatural stuff?”

“Ah,” Ace says.

“If ghosts are real, what else is? And what won’t I be able to solve because I didn’t think to consider…Bigfoot, or something? I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this when the rules of physics don’t apply.”

“Nancy,” Ace says slowly, “all due respect, but that’s super dumb. You’ve already solved like, three ghosts mysteries by now.” She opens her mouth with mock offense, but he just grins at her, and she’s unable to stop herself from matching it again. “You’re good at this. Dead or undead. Besides—people always say stuff about physics as if it just relates to gravity. It’s a lot more flexible than that.”

She cocks her neck. “What do you mean?”

Ace shrugs. “Like, I went down a Wikipedia rabbit hole one night. A lot of physics is about theorizing about other dimensions and energy, and matter. Like—there’s that rule, that matter can neither be created nor destroyed. I think it’s mostly about decay or whatever, like how when we die we go back to the ground, but maybe there’s another part, like with our soul, that sticks around. Who’s to say that doesn’t encompass ghosts?”

Nancy just stares at him, dumbfounded. When she first met Ace, he’d struck her as a quiet slacker; another fellow high school burnout. It’s almost upsetting how much she’d misjudged him. “How the hell do you know that?”

As if slightly embarrassed, Ace ducks his face down, but she can still see his smile. He shrugs again. “Like I said, I love a good Wikipedia black hole. Which, coincidentally, has a great article on black holes.” They meet each other’s eyes, and Nancy feels something sputter against her chest, suddenly deeply aware of their proximity. She wonders if he feels it too, because he clears his throat. “Anyway, I don’t sleep super well. So it gives me a lot of time to collect increasingly random knowledge.” He taps his temple. “It’s a steel trap of trivia.”

She raises her eyebrows, still taking him in. He never seems to stop surprising her. “How did we not know each other in high school? You would’ve been super helpful on some of my earlier cases, you know.”

“I thought you worked alone then,” he says, somewhat teasingly, but like he’s avoiding her question. After a moment, he sighs. “I knew you, you just didn’t know me. We actually had art together, I think.”

“No way,” she says at once, before she can think on it. “I would’ve noticed you.”

It’s his turn for his eyebrows to jump on his forehead. Her neck flushes hotly, but mercifully, he looks away from her. “Nah. I was barely there. I was kind of a big stoner in high school.”

“I’m shocked,” she says dully, and he laughs. At the sound, her chest tightens again.

“I know. It really plays against type,” he counters, smirking.

She laughs, and a silence falls over them gently. She’s still surprised they had a class together and she didn’t even know him—even if they didn’t run in the same circles, he was still Ace. If she wracks her brain, she has a vague memory of a skinny kid in a backwards baseball cap and an oversized plaid shirt, but it’s hard to reckon that with the long-haired, soft-eyed, much more muscled boy who sits beside her.

When her thoughts finally return to the present, she finds him watching her. She turns slowly to face him, breath catching against her chest. Her eyes dart down to his mouth, and he does the same. Anxiously, she pushes her hair behind her ears, unwilling to let this moment last. This is Ace. Get it together.

“What?” He asks, his tone something low and velvety.

She laces her fingers together and tips her chin up, wistfully watching a faint star. “What are you still doing here?” She asks, and he meets her eye again, confused this time. “I mean, you’re smart. You never wanted to get out of Horseshoe Bay? Go to college?”

Ace leans back on his elbows. “Nah,” he says, but something in his voice betrays his attempt at casualness. “I didn’t have the grades, even if I wanted to.” Nancy purses her lips, not sure she believes him. He shifts uncomfortably, like he can tell. “Pothead,” he adds, impishly. “I took a couple of classes at the community college, but…I dunno, I got bored. I’ve had pretty much every job in town, at this point. Never really held anything down, ‘til now.”

“Yeah?” She asks, breathily.

“Worked on a lobster fishing boat for a summer. That was really hard,” he supplies, and Nancy wonders if that was the cause of his transformation from skinny kid in art class to the surprisingly toned boy beside her. “Worked at the video store, until they went out of business. Worked at the library for a bit. That didn’t work out, for obvious reasons.”

“Obviously,” she echoes, grinning at him. He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Last year I even worked at the yacht club,” he adds, glancing away from her. “That’s where I met Laura Tandy.”

At the mention of his ex, Nancy straightens. She tries not to put too much thought into the strange reaction her body has, deciding instead to dig at the larger thought that still nags. “Do you ever wish you’d gone with her? To Paris, I mean. Had adventures…left Maine?”

“Nance, I’m pretty sure adventure isn’t geography-specific at this point,” he sighs, throwing her a knowing look. There’s a slight thrill at him calling her ‘Nance’, and she tries to push it down. “But no,” he sighs. “My dad…I still think he needs me. He keeps trying to go back to work, as if he doesn’t remember why he left in the first place. Someone has to remind him.”

A soft hum escapes from the back of her throat. Privately, she thinks there’s something loaded there, something buried. A lie to himself, maybe. From her observation, Ace and his father are very much alike, but she doesn’t think he’d want to hear that.

Faintly, Nancy can hear the waves crashing into the shoreline down the road. A buoy rings against the water. She takes a breath. “So…you don’t regret not leaving?”

“Do you?” He counters, as if knowing she wasn’t just talking about him anymore. She levels him with a warning look, but he doesn’t back down, just piques an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” she says, honestly. “Right now, no.” She bumps him with her shoulder again. “Look at us. A couple of townie burnouts.”

He grins. “Somebody’s gotta do it.”

Another blanket of silence settles between them, but gentle this time. Again, the waves lap against the shore.

“I still can’t believe I didn’t know you,” she says quietly, perhaps not meaning to say it aloud. Somewhere along the way, he became such a fixture. But she supposes that goes for all of her friends—she was so different in high school. She’s not sure she’s someone she would’ve liked now. She realizes Ace is looking at her again. “I just mean, it’s such a small town. Like, I don’t even know your last name,” she adds.

He still hasn’t budged, soft smile and all. “Oh, it’s—”

“Yo! Lazy Drew! Are we gonna Boggle or what?” George’s voice floats across The Claw’s back deck, and they both turn around to see her at the back exit, her hands on her hips, lit warmly from behind. “Ace, you said you were gonna go get her and come right back.”

“My bad,” he says, getting to his feet. He offers her his hand down, even though it’s barely a jump to the ground. She takes it anyway, but it hits her with a shock of static so strong that she drops it like a hot potato. His eyes are anywhere but on her.

“Game night waits for no man,” George says drolly, holding the door open for them.

“Fine, fine,” she mutters, passing through the doorway. She spins around and points at George. “Tonight, we Boggle, but tomorrow—trivia night. Teams.”

“I’m game,” Ace pips up, as George only rolls her eyes and nods as she struts past them, towards the booth where Bess and Nick wait.

“Tomorrow, you’re on my team, Mr. Steel Trap,” Nancy whispers to him, leaning in conspiratorially. His body heat warms against her skin, even through her light sweater.

His smile is soft. “Any time.”

[cutegirlmayra]

Modern Sonamy in a life and death this may be the end scenario where Sonic is finally forced to confront his feelings for Amy that he knows have been there for years. He plans to spend their final moments telling her his love but they are saved at the last minute. Afterwards he tries to go back to the usual but realizes he doesn't want to have any regrets and not have Amy know the truth. So he tries to figure out how to to tell her but the message isn't coming across until he gives her a kiss!

Watch Pajama Blogs - Prompt Requests - Ep.1 timestamp: 47:51 to hear my thoughts on this prompt back when I was first thinking about it! (Sometimes my thoughts change, so don’t be too disappointed if my processes changes a bit over time!)

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN, so do not submit them until you see the post about the ‘grand reopening’ announcement or see that the ‘ask box’ tells you they are open. THEY ARE NOT OPEN AT THIS TIME.

(Art found here: x Please support the original artist!)

Prompt:

The gravel scooted and crumbled away from her hand as Sonic and Amy slammed against the side of the rocky wall, trying to dodge the intense heat of the magma from within Egg-Canyon-Mountain where they were attempting to sneak in and take the Chaos Emeralds back from powering a large and terrible machine.

The Machine right now didn’t matter though, because just before they were to remove them, Tails radioed that the machine was self-destructing, and it was all a trap.

Eggman had fled knowing the Chaos Emeralds would just pulse away from each other and become shooting stars in the daylight sky, and he’d have to find them all over again once the reactor malfunctioned sufficiently enough to flood the canyons with magma.

“Sonic, it’s only rising!” Amy was momentarily kidnapped when trying to reach the machine’s first Chaos Emerald slot, where Eggman used her to force Sonic to battle him and his new incredible robot, but it was all to buy time for his fatal trap.

Laughing as he exited, he dropped Amy and made a snide comment about ‘Dying with the one you love’ being a last mercy he’ll give... to Amy that is.

Even while dangling in the clutches of Eggman’s hovering robot’s metal talons, Amy couldn’t have judged well enough the machine’s overheating and powering up processes. It was truly unexpected, but completely within Eggman’s bounds...

Squished between the rocky layer of steep, vertical terra and a sweating Sonic, Amy was sandwiched between the thought of how they were gonna survive this.

“It’s not as fast as you, though!” She looked back over to him, seeing his eyes were fixated on the molten rock slowly rising to them on the thin strip of raised pathway they had against the side of the canyon, finally having made it out of the caverns...

This didn’t look good... Sonic was hot and panting to keep his body temperature regulated. With some degree of knowledge in health and medicine from treating his wounds and injuries all these years, she could tell he was too hot to run at full speed like usual without the proper coolness to not overheat himself. Not just that... but she was added weight... he’d never be able to scale the mountain’s straight drop at top-speeds if he had to carry her too...

She was nowhere near fat but still... this wasn’t looking too good for her.

Without missing a beat, she finally closed her eyes and pushed her nose to the wall, breathing in a dusty and dirt-filled breath of self-sacrifice and spoke aloud an unforgivable sentence. “If I hadn’t insisted on coming with you... to spend more time with you... in hopes that you would fall more in love with me if I was just as into adventure as you were... then you’d be able to run up this wall and get to the top safely.”

He turned his sights back to her, a frown apparent as she was speaking negatively, and he hated that. “Since when were you doubting?” he was always trying to play it cool, and as she took a sorrowful peek back to him, she couldn’t help but gently smile in her grief at seeing his cheery and confident smile.

“We’ll get out of this.” he assured her, “I need you to hang on, though. No more talk about what should and shouldn’t have happened. Can you get up on my back from here?” He looked back at the rising lava, apparently having a plan now.

She nodded, deciding it best not to bring up the inevitable, since her Sonic could do miracles!

... At least, this time, she couldn’t let him fall to his untimely death because of her persistence... 

She spun and he caught her to help her keep balance on the strip and then she tied her arms tightly around his neck as he began to slowly climb.

However, looking down at the speedily approaching magma filling the veins of the large expanse of rock with blood-colored fury and heat, and then looking up to see not a speck of the other side or even the sky as it was just a long, never-ending stretch to half the sky... she felt her heart sinking again.

He really could go faster without her, and looking down again, she saw the strip they were moments ago being pushed up against was now being reached and submerged in the melting rock...

Liquid fire... Was this the story of when Sonic had to face Metal that first time? She remembered him telling the story of reaching for Metal him’s hand before he whacked it aside, refusing to be saved by the one and true hero: Sonic.

There was only ever going to be one Sonic The Hedgehog... but there could be others that would love him just as much... though her grip tightened at admitting it, and ducking her head down, unable to produce tears in the steam of the ripples of heat rising up the cavern.

If they didn’t die of one slip-up or not moving fast enough, they would surely succumb to heat-exhaustion or heat-stroke.

Sonic felt the slight tug on his chin as though her grip around his neck had tightened in a desperate attempt to hold on, and although already straining to climb with someone else and his body feeling like a sauna plus a volcano at his feet, he really didn’t want to believe Amy was giving up on him.

“Amy..!” he called, having an instinct of what she was thinking, “Don’t do it!”

Amy’s head jerked up, “S...Sonic...” She was amazed he had caught on so quickly to her thoughts... her emotions... “B-but,... I-!” she wanted to convince him to let her do it, to let her allow him to run up the rocky wall and save himself.

“We’re getting out of this together or not at all!” he finally blurted out, taking Amy aback as he twitched to reach another hand out for another piece of rock that could be firm enough to give him a sturdy hand-grip. “Erk... ugh... ha... ha... Do me a favor, Amy... ha... umph!” he reached back and threw her up, shocking her as she cried out his name. “And quit acting like we’re dead already!”

She hit against a leveled path that slightly crumbled under her weight, making her kick her legs to scoot quickly back against the wall as Sonic was then able to Spin-Dash to a higher level, reaching down a hand for her. “Hurry!” he called, as she looked back to gasp at the lava not taking any ‘rest-stops’ so to speak. “There might be a cave that tunnels up from here!”

That was a sensationally good idea, except for one problem... if they went back into a tunnel and it went downwards.... then the magma would pinch them in on both sides... and their wouldn’t even be left unmelted fossil remains of them...

But right now, up was good.

She spun around and got up, reaching for his hand and having him struggle to hoist her up as she got her foot on the wall just before the magma rose and splashed against where she was just sitting. “Ah!”

“Amy!!!”

“I-I’m fine.” she squinted an eye as she was grateful the splash didn’t burn her. Her feet were fine, she hadn’t been exposed to it.

He pulled her up and the two just breathed heavily in the others arms a moment.

“You... can out run it... Sonic.” Amy spoke again, only hearing a grunt of annoyance from Sonic as she did so.

“Quit... fooling around... Amy.” his hold on her had loosened so much... she knew he was growing tired. First having snuck in and destroyed some robot scouts on the way down, then Eggman’s battle, and then rushing out before the magma overwhelmed them... Then climbing up such a perilous wall with her on his back... “Do you... see any tunnels..?”

She didn’t even look, she just pulled his forehead to her own, holding it there with her own, sweat-soaked white gloves on either side of his cheeks... saying her farewells in secret. “I know I’ve never voiced it before... but... I...”

Sonic blinked his eyes, before grabbing her arms, their gloves sticking to their skins and making a light blue, see-through effect through the shiny oils on both their exposed skin. Their furs were wetted and they’d be too slippery to attempt to climb again.

This was it.

Sonic lightly moved her to the wall, showing in his face his unbelief at her distrust all of a sudden that he could save them both, but beyond the hurt expression... there was a look she hadn’t fully seen before.

He pinned her slightly as he willingly put his forehead to hers and shut his eyes, trying to keep his breathing normal. “I know.” he stated, then with a shaky voice... “And you’ve always known too.”

She was frozen in that heat-soaked moment... Sonic finally dropping his own tall walls for a brief moment as they could hear the slushing of the magma rising to where they were.

They both looked back, Amy over his shoulder and Sonic to look at the impending doom before them.

“You had to know.” He chuckled out loosely, exhausted now emotionally too, “I gotta at least leave you with some comforting closure.”

“Of that?” Amy thought that the sweetest thing, but also grossly inappropriate for the timing. “Why did you wait till now to tell me?”

“Validate you. I never said anything.” He smirked, even now, trying to keep things light.

She wanted to kiss him, but felt that that would be an even greater sentence, and she’d be framed as the worst timing for romantic advances in history.

Even worse than his...

Sonic smiled to her before something glittery flicked light into his eye and caused him to squint it a few times repeatedly. Turning to find out what the strange source was, the two’s mouths opened at the entrance of a metal bunker impeded into the wall... not seen without the glow of the rising magma.

“An elevator!” The two exclaimed, seeing a mining device next to it. Sonic quickly scooped her up and pushed her in, “Going up!” he pressed the button but she didn’t want to part with him, the Elevator could be slow or worse, the mechanism below could be melted away by now.

“Sonic!” she cried out, agreeing--somewhat--with Eggman that she’d rather die in the arms of her beloved than alone in a small elevator meant for hauling metals up to the top of the canyon. And who knew where this actual thing landed! Maybe it wasn’t the top?

Sonic gave her a thumbs up and signature wink as she could see the lava splashing against the sides of where he was, “Noo!!!” as the chute shut tight and started cranking her upwards. She flung her back to the opposite side of where the tin had shut and felt the heat and the moment consuming her. ‘Sonic... do you mean that..? Do you really... love me?’

Sonic was tearing up the ground in his wake as dust spiraled behind him and he almost flew up at supersonic speeds through the canyon. All the while, he narrowed his eyes to the straight path the elevator was meant to take, making sure it reached the top. ‘Faster... Faster... Faster...!!!’ his eyes widened as his teeth clenched, seeing the lava building up and never stopping, not even for a moment, in consuming the rock beneath it and yet, his eyes trained to fixate on the metal pole that meant the chain was still hauling Amy up. “Endure it just a little longer,... Amy...” his eyebrow furrowed before bowing as he tripped by not watching where his feet were going. “W-woah!” he noticed he had reached the top and was falling now, having pressed his foot to air which had started the tumble. He gripped frantically to the edge of the large landscape and was able to get enough wind in his heels and strength left in his fingers to stop his falling... he had made it... he’ll be okay.

But that wasn’t enough.

He heard the metal bending and cranking, as though slowing the rising, treasured container of it’s load from coming up. The metal was beginning to tilt and loosened itself from it’s bolted railing and started to dip like a bending fish hook towards the flaming sea...

“No!!” Sonic leaped up and raced to the pole, “Amy!!!” He reached out and bent to grab the wall and the bending metal, using himself like a stretched chord to keep the metal from bending further, suspended between rock and the pole as he could feel the jolting of the chains continuing to crank up, but slower than before.

‘I have to straighten the poll out... or Amy will never make it!’ he was running out of juice and energy... but strength rose in him as he thought of her... He couldn’t let her down... he couldn’t let himself live knowing she was still in harm’s way...

He was mellowly delighted that she was accompanying him on this adventure. Though he never showed it, he enjoyed her hammering swings and ricocheting off robots to stop dramatically in front of her and strike a pose, knowing she loved it when he showed off. He couldn’t naturally give slight looks and charming flares to the dudes, it would be weird, but he enjoyed the moments he could when Amy was around.

True, sometimes, he felt he couldn’t fully be himself around Amy or she’d overly fawn after him... but even then... he could see and feel how much he meant to her.

He never felt the need to be more for her, even though he knew he probably should act a bit more gentlemanly here and there, which he did, but never overdid it to avoid getting exploited by Amy’s constant yearning for more attention from him.

He was never upset when she insisted to tag along with him for a journey or perilous undertaking. He just always knew he needed to keep an ear and eye out to make sure she was safe at all times... other than that? It was just fun to have her around, constantly praising him. Though... he didn’t like her ‘pampering’ behavior when she’d rub his hand too much if he punched a tough-made robot... he still didn’t mind the doting every now and then.

Clenching his abs, he finally scrunched his body enough to bend the pole somewhat back into a straighter line, causing the chain to move quickly with each thought he had for Amy and how he was determined to saving her life.

She had saved his... after all. If she had self-sacrificed herself... he would have... never... ever... forgiven himself such a lost.

Amy was almost about to collapse at the heated panel beneath her butt and feet, fearing the lava had caught up with her, until there was a jolt and she stopped fully. “S...Son...ic...” The chute opened and a sound like a swift wind brushed through her small compartment and gave her somewhat relief,... but not as much as cool hands that gripped her firmly at her sides and pulled her out.

When she came too, Tails and Knuckles were standing over her and Cream was attending her.

She remembered a similar scene with Cream... when she had almost drowned in the water when Eggman attacked back in Chris’s world... what... where was Sonic?

“I..” she could barely get a word out, and Cream kept dabbing the cool cloth on her head and adjusting the cooling pads under her back, on her sides, and over her stomach.

“Don’t worry, Miss Amy.” Cream spoke out, cheerily but with a worried and loving look in her eyes, but showing signs that Amy was going to be alright. Her little heart pattered quickly as she stopped a moment and reached back as though forgetting something, putting a flower by her side. “Mr. Sonic said to give you this when you woke up! He said you deserved to see some life after all the dull rock you were exposed too.”

And the pitch black of the heated tin chute... he must have felt awful about that being the only other way to get them out of there alive.

She had no idea about the pole that threatened to snap and dip her into slowly into a melted death... but as she got better, Tails told her Sonic had gone after Eggman, and she gathered that Sonic hadn’t told any of them the extent at what they had gone through.

‘He’s keeping up appearances... he doesn’t want to trouble or worry them more than he already has.’ she concluded, thinking that noble and brave... somewhat.

She wanted to tell them, so badly, about everything... but silently accepted Sonic’s assumed wishes.

She also didn’t want to worry anyone... but... Oh, she wanted to tell at least one soul about the encounter!!!

Sonic had... he had really... ohhh!!! Her heart was overjoyed!

But... when she came to see him...

As per-usual, he was up atop a windy place, looking over the nature he spent his whole life preserving and protecting... admiring it’s beauty and natural power.

With a kind and neutral smile on his face, he suddenly turned to see Amy walking happily up to greet him.

Seeing his gaze, she paused a moment and halted, putting her hands together and in front of her, trying to look feminine and delicate.

“Hello, Sonic.” she greeted, blushing as her eyes closed and she giggled to herself lightly.

“Amy,” he nodded to her, a true picture of boy coolness!

She squee’d, “When are you gonna act like how you really feel at seeing my cute face?” she cupped her cheeks and turned away as if ‘trying’ to be modest about it... but then blinked her eyes when Sonic responded in a way she wasn’t expecting.

“Huh? I am acting the way I always do, Amy.” He folded his arms, looking more... puzzled... than she thought he should have.

“But- ah.... uhh...Ohhh!!!” she did her signature whine and shook her once -delicate- hands in a fury of frustration down at her sides. “That’s not how you feel at all!” She contested, but he didn’t seem to want to fight as his smile slightly fell.

Her eyes came back to his neutral ones and looked somewhat pleading to return to a place they once were... or at least... had just gotten to. “Why are you being like this..? After everything we went through on that ridge...”

He just quietly stared at her, before lowering his head and closing his eyes, shaking it softly back and forth. “I think you were misguided, Amy. The heat had gotten to us and we... said things we didn’t actually mean to express.” he then looked up at the sky, as if trying to dismissive the topic further. “Of course I care about you, Amy,... But I can’t say it’s to the extent that you’re hoping for. To where I suddenly run into your arms, or something mushy like that... heheh.” he had a bead of awkwardness like a sweat drop slide down the side of his face as his mouth squirmed it’s lines to show how uncomfortable with this he all was.

Amy felt her heart chip away just like the pebbles of the rocky wall... as though she was trying to climb the wall he had pasted up again after only just placing it down back then...

“You’re... You’re not being fair...” she wanted to call him cruel, but she knew that was a lie. She wouldn’t lie... whether to herself or to him.

But this...

This hurt so much.

“What’s wrong with liking me?” she finally had the coolness of the earth to allow tears to peek out from her eyelids, but never fully emerge. Her body quivered in the cold, but she ignored it, too angry and hurt to care. “You can’t just press restart every time you show me how you feel, Sonic The Hedgehog!”

Her outburst caused a sharp bolt of lightning to split Sonic’s core in two. His heart ripped as though torn about how to follow something that dramatic and genuine up... He’d had hoped for the social norm again... but that seemed a bit too late.

He flinched back and then relaxed, scratching behind his head, “I guess you’re right, Amy... I’m not being very fair to your feelings... but you can’t blame me for being hesitant about my choices...”

She was sniffling, and he realized she probably didn’t have it in her to say more right now. Sighing, he walked down to her and smiled tenderly, kindly opening his arms to invite her to hug him.

“Let’s just say... I don’t really have a way with words.”

“They’re enough for me...” she hiccupped through her tears now pouring out. “You’ve always been enough for me. Every part of you, every inch and every word ever spoken and act ever done has been enough... when will you get that? When will you learn that whatever you choose to do for me... for my sake... knowing how hard it is for you to express that freely and openly like you did in that moment... it’s always been enough to shake me.” she fell to her legs, bawling now as Sonic awkwardly stood there and blinked, realizing she was going to break down.

“H-hang on, just a second, Amy!” he was shaking his hands out to get her to stop crying and calm down, but her tears and wailing didn’t cease, she was already emotionally compromised and it made him feel like a bigger jerk than ever before.

“Alright, enough already... I get it, Amy...” His face quite literally seemed to deflate on itself as he lost the energy and will to keep up the persona. “You heard what you heard, and I never said I wanted to take it back... just that I can’t always do that from now on. I didn’t want to lose you... that part is, and will always be, true.”

Amy took her hands away from her eyes to see the resounding truth that was on his face. “I... I don’t want-” she hiccupped, a cute and gross reminder that she had been holding all this in for some time now since Sonic’s first departure. “to lose you... hck, either...” she sniffed.

Chuckling at her appalling sense of self-preservation or even an idea of self-image in this moment, Sonic kindly wiped her eyes with his finger and looked to her as though slowly backing the wall up and away from her, but not fully putting it down yet. “I can’t promise I won’t lead you into dangerous times, Amy... but I can say that I will never leave you behind in those moments. Not ever.”

She pouted, “You shoved me in a dark chute.”

“T-To save your life!” he gestured out to her, his arms out either side of her and extended as though to plead his case, “You were right, Amy, I couldn’t have carried us both up, it was the only way!”

She continued to give him a hard look of judgement.

“You gotta believe me, honest! You knew it was the only way!”

“...It was still scary...”

“You survived!” his words almost smacked the idea as though fanning it away, but he never dared to say ‘quit complaining’ as he could tell she was just riling him up.

She smiled, unable to help it. She enjoyed seeing emotion out of him, even expressed in ways like this. She batted his chest, secretly snuggling into it, “You’re the worst, Sonic The Hedgehog! You make me cry and smile at the same time! No one does that...” she muttered the last part out, and it was almost cute... almost.

Sonic rolled his eyes, “Come on, give me a break, Amy...” It almost sounded like he was complaining, but it was to keep up with her playful antics. “Forgive me this one time?”

“I forgive you every time.” Amy mumbled into the side of his chest.

“...Forgive me for being a dunce?”

“I forgive you for that all the time too.” she continued to play, making sure her mouth’s movements and the vibration of her words could be felt in into his chest too.

There was silence...

“Forgive me for... this?” his hands suddenly caught her up and her lips were silenced for a time that for her--seemed to last eternity.

When his kiss parted he was gone with the wind, as though unable to stick around for the aftermath.

She was frozen in disbelief before shouting out in a type of ‘hoorah!’ for her success, but also...

Sonic did know the perfect timing for a romantic advance... he just didn’t always have the words or courage to say it~<3

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Let My Love Open The Door

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6   🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

When people keep repeating That you'll never fall in love When everybody keeps retreating But you can't seem to get enough

Let my love open the door Let my love open the door Let my love open the door To your heart

When everything feels all over Everybody seems unkind I'll give you a four-leaf clover Take all worry out of your mind

Let my love open the door Let my love open the door Let my love open the door To your heart

The only key to your heart That can stop you falling apart Try today, you'll find this way Come on and give me a chance to say

Let my love open the door It's all I'm livin' for Release yourself from misery There's only one thing gonna set you free

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NIALL

                                            I wanted to ask Devon what we would do when we'd go back to school. Would we pretend nothing happened or would we keep this little thing going on between us? I wanted to know but I didn't want to ask, scared of the answer and of what it would do to my mood. Instead, we kept laughing together, playing board games, watching tv and discussing. I didn't want things to end and I was ready to stay locked in this apartment forever if it meant that our relationship, whatever it was, would never stop. I knew it was impossible but I decided to just enjoy the time we spent together and try to figure out the rest later, when we'd go back to normal.

I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms on my chest as I stared at her putting some music on. She was only wearing a hoodie and panties and even if it made it difficult to concentrate, I loved that she felt at ease like that around me. A song invaded the room and she just started dancing, making me chuckle.

"Late night, a long day Somehow it's never quite enough And maybe I'm lazy It's been so long, sometimes I feel like giving up

So now I'm staying up all night 'Cause I'm trying to understand Why I feel like I've been stuck here forever

Break out today I'm throwing my fears away You don't even know Break out today I'm throwing my fears away You don't even know You don't even know

Maybe I'll get through Just one more day of feeling dumb I don't think I need to Get over this until I feel like growing up

So now I'm staying up all night 'Cause I'm trying to understand Why I feel like I've been stuck here forever

Break out today I'm throwing my fears away You don't even know Break out today I'm throwing my fears away You don't even know You don't even know"

I listened to the song and my amused smile turned into a sad one. I was trying so hard to throw my fears away and be the way I used to be before my ex girlfriend made a mess out of me but I was just starting to realize that fears are normal. What is not normal, however, is to stop myself from living my life and find love just because someone fucked me up before. I looked at Devon, wishing she could understand the meaning behind the lyrics she was singing herself and when the song ended, I took a few steps closer and my smile changed again as she looked at me with a laugh.

"Sorry!" she chuckled, licking her lips. "I didn't want to annoy you."

"You never annoy me."

Her lips curled in a fond smile and she bent slightly to take my hands in hers. "You wanna dance with me?"

I chuckled but raised my nose up before letting out a groan. "I'm not very good at that..."

"Come on, you just saw me dance, you can't be worse than me!"

My lips curled more and I brought one of my hands up to make her twirl. She started giggling and I pulled her closer. She almost tripped and bumped into my chest. Instead to move back, she looked up in my eyes and smiled gently at me before licking her lips.

"Maybe you'd rather do something else, then?" she asked in a whisper, nibbling on her bottom lip and raising her eyebrows.

I knew what she meant and I couldn't say I was not tempted. I let my eyes roam on her and squeezed her fingers in mine. "We can dance."

She seemed surprised but she just nodded and I looked around for my phone. I found it on the couch and grabbed it, quickly putting a song that started gently on the speakers. I put my phone away and extended my hand to her. She seemed to hesitate but she finally put her palm against mine and I pulled her closer gently. We danced in silence until I slid my hand to her lower back, pulling her slightly closer and she pressed her cheek on my chest, near my shoulder. I was not really into dancing. In fact, we could have just stayed there, in each other's arms, without moving, and it would have been good with me. I leaned my chin on her head and closed my eyes as a bunch of thoughts invaded my head.

Being afraid was normal, it was so obvious now, but I had to overcome those fears, and my biggest fear at the moment was about the girl I was holding close to me, and the feelings I had for her.

"I like you too, Devie."

She seemed to tense against me but I ran my fingertips softly on her back and she relaxed a bit.

"Before we left, you said you really liked me." I explained, licking my lips as she pulled away gently. I looked down at her  and let my eyes roam on her face. I could read fear but also something else in her eyes, and it was the very first time I couldn't decipher what it was. "I just wanted to say that I like you too. Maybe even more than that."

"You... you don't even know me."

"I know you more than I knew my ex girlfriend." I pointed out with a shrug. "And you know me more than pretty much anyone. I've opened up to you in a way I can't with anyone else."

I waited a few seconds as her lips parted and I sighed, taking a few steps back but pulling her with me by her hand. I sat on the coffee table and she placed herself between my legs, her bare thighs brushing against mine. I wanted to run my hands on her but instead, I grabbed her other hand and squeezed her fingers.

"I tried pushing you away, but the more I push you away, the closer I want you to be." I admitted, shaking my head but still staring up at her. "I'm not asking you for a romantic relationship, I know you're not ready and to be quite honest, I don't think I am either. But there's something between us, right? Something stronger than lust? Something that's different than friendship?"

Her traits softened and she shook her head slightly. "I'm trying not to think about it, Niall." she whispered, bringing both her hands on my cheeks as she cupped my face. "I don't want to analyze everything, I don't want to give a name to what we have. I don't want to ask myself too many questions. It was different since day 1. I mean, I don't just make out with my friends, and I don't get stuck with random people often." This time, I chuckled sadly. "I don't know what it is, and I don't want to know."

I thought about the soft kisses I gave her in the elevator after we made out. They were the same type of kisses she gave me earlier after we both came.

"I know you said you never wanted to fall in love again." I pointed out in a murmur, feeling my heart jump in my chest. "I've said the same thing. But, do you think about it sometimes?"

"About what?" she asked just as low.

"About love."

Her eyes roamed on me and one of her thumbs brushed against my bottom lip. I could have sworn she was about to tear up and I held my breath, waiting for her answer.

"No. Almost never." she admitted with a sad smile. "But if I had to fall in love again, It would probably be with you."

Her words made something stir so bad in my stomach I thought I was about to throw up. Slowly, I got up and her arms fell on her sides. I grabbed her face the way she had cupped mine a few seconds before, my fingers spread on her cheeks, chin and jaw, and bent down to kiss her. She let me, whimpering low in my mouth as I felt her grip the front of my shirt.

"Niall, wait." she expressed after a few seconds, pulling away and shaking her head. "You know we can't date right? We'd just destroy each other. Love... it's not for me. I've tried it and hated it. It hurts too much. But we can be... something, I don't know what." she shrugged and pressed her lips together. She was near tears and I shook my head, bending down to kiss her again. "I'm sorry."

"No, hey, shh." I kissed her lips a few times, cupping her face again. "We can be friends. We can make each other feel good. Let's start with that okay?"

"Okay." she whispered, nodding, as I pressed my mouth on hers again, leaving some love on her lips. "I just.. I need a shower."

She quickly moved away from me and walked past me as I sighed, remaining standing up and closing my eyes. I felt like the first few weeks after we met, we could have ended up dating. Hell, I felt like before Henry appeared, she would have been willing to at least try, maybe go on a date with me or something like that. But now? I hated this man for fucking her up like that and I hated myself for not being honest with her and with myself from the beginning. I couldn't help but wonder if she would have broken up with me after seeing Henry again, had we started dating earlier, but I pushed that thought away. We would never know and it really didn't matter anyway. It's not like I could go back in time to fix my mistakes even if I wanted to.

I waited until I heard the shower and sighed again, going back to my room to grab a t-shirt and two pairs of sweatpants. I put one on and walked to the bathroom, knocking at the door with one of my knuckles.

"Yes?"

I opened the door slightly and glanced at her through the glass before turning around and leaving the pants and the shirt on the counter, trying to fight the urge to look at her again.

"I brought clothes for you."

"Oh, thank you."

She sounded disappointed but I tried not to think too much about it and got out, closing the door behind me and walking back to the living room. I grabbed my guitar and started playing an old song on it to change my mind. It brought me back to when I was dating Abby and I held my breath, closing my eyes at all the memories. It's insane how we mostly remember the nice moments with someone when they're not around anymore. I knew I had more bad moments than good ones with her but the first thing that came to my mind was the first time I saw her, the first time I kissed her, and even if I knew she never really loved me, the first time she said 'i love you'.

It was so different with Devon and I felt so lost. I didn't know what to do, I barely knew what I wanted. All I knew was that I needed her close to me at all times, and it seemed extremely selfish of me. The first time I saw Abby, my heart had jumped in my chest and I remembered how beautiful she was. The first time I saw Devon, her physical appearance didn't matter to me. All I could feel was the electric connection between us and I knew immediately that we had something special going on. It was not just something I felt towards her, it was something reciprocal, something I felt because she felt it and vice-versa. Even now, I could see it in her eyes when she looked at me and I knew she saw the same thing in mine.

When she came back, she was wearing my clothes and I let my eyes travel on her body. Her hair was wet and messy but she looked cute and when she bent down to grab my guitar and put it away, I just let her. Slowly, she straddled me and when I realized what she was doing, I spread my legs on the couch.

"I thought you were going to join me in the shower." she admitted, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Did you want me to?"

"Mm, maybe."

Slowly, she pressed her lips on mine and my fingers gripped the couch harder. We didn’t really kiss the last few times we touched each other and feeling her mouth so impatient and eager against mine reminded me how much I had missed it. Our kiss grew and when I slipped my tongue in her mouth, she wrapped her lips around it and started sucking on it.

"Fuck, don't do that." I whispered with a chuckle, my eyes still closed. "Can't stop thinking what it would feel like around my cock."

"Well, maybe I could-"

"No, stay here." I cut her, opening my eyes and letting them roam on her face. She raised her eyebrows and my hands slipped from her upper arms until her waist before I pulled her closer and licked my lips. "Please, stay here."

"I want you so bad." she whispered, her lips brushing against mine as she talked. "I can't believe we didn't fuck yet."

I kissed her harder and she whimpered in my mouth as I pushed her more against my lap. I could feel my cock swell between her legs and she ground down on me, making me even harder. I gripped her hips hard and helped her move on me slowly, feeling her pussy rub on my cock, separated by the fabric of our pants.

"How does my cock feel? Good?"

She just grabbed one of my hands on her waist to bring it on her breasts, over her shirt, and I leaned a bit on the couch as she kept grinding on me. I gripped one of her tits and she moaned more when my thumb rubbed on her nipple. I wanted to lie her down, take her clothes off and push my cock inside her to find out how she felt but the wait was making me dizzy and I knew that when it would happen, it would be even better.

"Is that what you meant when you said we can make each other feel good?" she asked in a whisper, her pussy still rubbing slowly against me.

"Fuck yes that's what I meant." I admitted low, making her smile. "I bet you're so fucking wet right now."

"I'm dripping."

My hand grabbed her tit tighter and I let the other slide down to her ass, gripping one of her cheeks hard enough to make her whimper and squirm a bit. "You're such a horny little slut, yea?"

I felt my heart jump in my chest at the words that came out of my mouth. We had never discussed what we liked and I didn't want to insult her or turn her off. I was about to apologize profusely when she whimpered.

"Mmhm, yes, I'm so horny for you."

My lips curled and she leaned her forehead against mine, her eyes closed. I moved my hips up to meet hers and groaned, feeling my sweatpants rub harder against my cock as she went quicker.

"You know what I'm gonna do to you next time?" I asked in a whisper, not waiting for her answer. "I'm gonna grab your hair and fuck your mouth. You like that?"

The simple thought of my cock in her mouth brought me close to an orgasm and when she moaned, I ran my hand to her other breast and gripped her hair tight.

"Do you? D'you want to feel the tip of my cock at the back of your throat?

"You know I do." she admitted, squirming on my lap and bringing a new sensation to me as my heart jumped. I was so close I could cum any second and I closed my eyes, trying to last a little longer, at least until she'd start cumming too. "I'm going to beg for it."

"Ride me harder." I just said, making her sit up immediately.

She started doing what I told her and I brought my mouth closer to her breasts. I could see her nipples peak through the fabric and groaned low as I brought my lips to them, sucking on one through her shirt and making her shake over me. I couldn't take it anymore and grabbed her waist, laying her down a bit roughly on the couch before moving over her and crushing my mouth against hers. I felt her hips grind up against my cock and I couldn't stop thinking that if we weren't wearing pants, it would definitely slip inside her and I would be able to feel her throb around me. The thought made me push my hips so hard against her that I felt her sink a bit in the cushion of the couch. Her hands reached for my hair and she gripped it tight as my lips ran to her neck.

"Cum for me, I want to feel you shake." I ordered in a low tone, hoping she'd just comply.

It took a few seconds and she started squirming, her grip tightening in my hair and her back arching as she quivered beneath me, It brought a rush to my brain, a mix of her getting an orgasm against me and the fact that she obeyed me without question, and I started cumming too, biting maybe a bit too hard the skin of her neck.

"Fuck."

Our orgasms both lasted longer than normally and when it left my body, I relaxed suddenly and buried my face in her neck. She smelled of my soap with a hint of sweat and I turned my head, placing a few kisses behind her ear.

"I thought you were just gonna take my pants off and fuck me." she admitted with a chuckle.

"Can't lie and say I didn't think about it." I chuckled too, moving my head up and holding myself with my upper arms on each side of her head. "I should have?"

"Mm, no, we can keep that for tomorrow."

"You want to fuck tomorrow?" I asked with an amused smile, making her raise her nose up in an embarrassed way.

"You think we can stop ourselves from fucking?"

This time, I laughed louder. "No!"

We remained silent for a while and the more she looked at me, the more her lips curled. "How does anyone look so good from this angle?" she asked, making me shake my head.

"You think I look good?" I asked jokingly, waving my eyebrows a few times and making her groan.

"Oh shut up."

"Alright alright," I smirked, moving off of her and getting up before extending my hand to her. She grabbed it and I helped her up quickly.

"I need new pants." I admitted, scratching the back of my head with a grimace. "Are you tired?"

We ended up laying down together in my bed in silence. I stared at the ceiling, not really knowing what to say. I loved doing anything sexual with her but when it was over, I ended up wondering how long it would last and how bad it would hurt when it would stop. I tried to accept that maybe she would never want to date me but I couldn't give up yet, it was too hard and painful to do.

"Do you think you could fall in love with Abby again if she came back and said she still loved you?" she asked randomly, making my lips part slightly. The question was legitimate and at the same time, I had no idea how to answer it. Would I give Abby a second chance? Probably not. "I mean, you can never know how you'll feel when it happens. You may think you know how you'll react to a certain situation but until it really happens, you can't be sure of what you'll feel or what you'll do." she added, making me believe she was talking about Henry and the fact that she saw him again after a few months when she probably thought she never would again.

"I can't be sure, but I like to think that I would never give her the chance to hurt me again." I finally admitted, turning my head her way. "Why? Did Henry message you or something?"

"Yes."

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest by my throat and I sat up quickly, turning her way and bending down a bit to look in her eyes. I had never felt so nervous in my life and let my eyes roam on her face, trying to decipher her expression.

"You're not gonna go back with him, will you?"

Devon moved up slightly, holding herself on her elbows. Her face was close to mine but not close enough to touch and the left corner of her lips raised up slightly in a sad smile. "Don't be silly, Niall." she expressed softly. "He didn't say he wanted me back, and there's no way I'd go back to him."

My shoulders fell and I exhaled, just realizing that I was holding my breath. "What did he want?"

"He just apologized." she explained, shrugging a shoulder. "Said he missed me, and that he was sorry about how it all ended."

"Devie, you won't let him play with your heart again, right?"

Her facial expression changed into a fond one and slowly, she brought her hand behind my head, pulling me closer to her. I felt every muscle of my body relax when our lips touched and she brought me down with her as she lied back on the bed. The kiss was slow and soft, and somehow, I hoped it showed just all the feelings I had for her. I felt her palm slide slowly from my hair to my jaw and when the kiss broke, she licked her lips.

"No one's gonna play with my heart again, especially not him." she let out in a whisper, making me nod. "Niall?" I raised my eyebrows and she moved her head up a bit to kiss me again. "You make me feel alive, and.. and wanted. And smart, and pretty. No one ever did that before."

I sent her a small smile and rubbed my nose gently against hers. "You feel like that because you are all those things. You don't need me."

She pressed her lips together and teared up, making my heart twist in my chest again.

"I do. I need you."

[its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons]

Here’s some wholesome Satan drabble

Pairing: Satan x GN!reader *people have told me my writing leans more on the fem!reader side, so watch out :(

Prompt: they say your pupils dilate when you see something (or someone) you like

Wordcount: 1K

Warnings: very fluffy, soft satan, mentions of self-harm an panic attacks, just some comfort

“Satan?”

The Avatar of Wrath jumped.

He hadn’t been expecting anyone, much less you and your pretty face to poke through his bedroom door.

Why were you here?

Had Lucifer sent you to embarrass and taunt him further? Were you too going to destroy his collection, knocking over piles of tomes, toppling bookshelves, and ruining more and more of the word-filled pages he loved so dearly, as his… father had done only minutes ago?

“Satan…” Your voice was like honey to his throbbing heart, easing the heavy ache momentarily as he listened, “Satan, what happened here? What’s… What’s wrong? Oh no, why are you crying?”

He hadn’t even realized it himself he was so numb, but tears were dribbling in a steady stream down his face and making a wet patch on his shirt. You ran to him as he dropped to his knees, pulling him into his now battered leather reading chair and wrapping him in the biggest hug you could manage.

Still sniffling, his nose fell into your hair, your scent bringing him calm and comfort despite the devastation around him.

Looking up, you met his soft emerald stare and cupped a sodden cheek only to press a tentative kiss on his lips.

“Why did Lucifer do this?” You asked, lacing your fingers with Satan’s trembling ones.

“Forgive me MC.” He murmured, breaking your hold to wipe his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I apologize for this… unprecedented emotion. It’s silly to weep for… for something as trivial as books...” He conceded, pushing loose hair out of eyes.

“Don’t apologize Satan, it’s ok to cry, especially when you lose something important to you. But what made Lucifer so upset that he would destroy your private library?” You question, combing his soft golden yellow locks back into submission.

A sound close to a purr bubbled from his throat as you continued your ministrations, melting your heart and making you smile as you watched his eyes close appreciatively and lean into your warmth.

“Just the usual squabble,” He sighed, “My grades aren’t high enough considering my intellect, apply myself, try harder, that’s not good enough… the usual. I can’t say I was helping matters-”

“But that’s never a reason to do something like this! I’m ready to kill him Satan, I really am. I’m sick of this never-ending blame cycle he puts you all through when he knows how it affects you! If I ever see Mammon or Asmo or you cry again o-or Beel starving himself or Belphie cutting or Levi having a panic attack, I’m gonna snap his stupid neck.” You snarl, removing his jacket for him and hanging it up, “But this… he came in and ruined your private space because you didn’t have the grades he expected from you… I’ll have to have a little talk with him.”

That last sentence came out as a dangerous murmur as you pulled one of the better-holding books and opened it, snuggling up next to the warm demon. The thing had seen better days, especially before Lucifer’s outburst, but you could still read it just fine.

As you read, you felt him slowly relax next to you, arms encircling your waist and one pale cheek resting in your sweet-smelling locks.

Halfway through another paragraph, you felt a chilly hand touch your cheek and turn it toward him to meet his viridian gaze.

“MC, you couldn’t possibly imagine how much you mean to me, nor how much your words have made me feel more like a demon rather than the empty husk of wrath I believed myself to be.” 

You lean into his touch, smiling softly, “Anything for you.”

His shaky, emotion-filled smile sent warmth up and down your body as he leaned in for a kiss (a real one this time) that made your fingers tighten in his silky hair before he pulled away.

“Has any human or demon told you how indescribably perfect you are?” 

His fingers carded through the hair at the base of your neck before pulling you in for a second breath-stealing kiss. This one held more emotion behind it, and he seemed to grip you tighter against him as though he were afraid of losing you.

“They say… They say a person’s pupils dilate when they see something they like.” You giggle, shyly averting your eyes to Satan’s bouncing knee.

“Mine must be massive right now, since… since I’m looking at something, or rather someone I love.” He replies, the ghost of a blush rising on his cheeks.

The shy smile only widened on your lips and your heart skipped a beat upon hearing his confession.

“Someone you love?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper, “... You mean me?”

He nods, color furling in his pale cheeks, “Someone special. Someone, if I may say, perfect.”

Gathering you into his arms, he carries you to his neatly made bed, (one of the only things left untouched) and rolls under the sheets with you still piled in his arms, giggling as he playfully nibbles at the junction of your shoulder and throat.

You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him and he returns the gesture wholeheartedly, burying his face in your hair and holding your body close so you could feel his steady heartbeat.

Feeling him smile against your scalp as you slowly rubbed his back, you lifted your chin to look at him.

“I love you too Satan, I always hoped you’d feel the same.”

“If that’s the case, how long have you been holding back your undying love for me?” He teased, tickling your sides, “Since the moment you lay eyes on this visage, or is this a recent development?”

Deciding to play along with his little scheme you respond, “Oh, how I have longed to confess, for I have loved you every second we’ve spent together. As soon as my frail, disoriented figure landed in the devildom, you’ve always been at my side to aid me.” You pause for dramatic effect, “I could never articulate my love for you, Satan, because it is a feeling indescribable in its beauty.” You finished, pretending to faint in his arms

He’d been holding back a snort of laughter since the second you’d begun to talk and now the avatar of wrath burst out laughing and you joined in, happy to finally put a real smile on his lips.

Content, the pair of you settled back into the mattress, happily tangled up in eachothers limbs.

The mess could wait.

[king-finnigan]

wingless thing

this is a oneshot that i was planning on turning into a full series at some point, but i never really had any ideas for the main storyline. so here it is, now; it’s an AU where everyone on the continent is born with wings. the only people who don’t have them are witchers.

Geralt sighs as he looks up at the tavern, built into the side of the mountain. There is no path up, no way to get there other than flying. Which wouldn’t be an issue for anyone else.

But unfortunately, Geralt isn’t anyone else.

He lets out an annoyed huff and Roach bristles softly, pushing at his shoulder with her nose. He pats the side of her neck, tangling his fingers through her brown mane. “Sorry, girl,” he mutters. “Gonna have to sleep outside again tonight.”

He doesn’t really know what he expected. Posada is full of mountains, of course people are going to build as high up as they can to get away from the creatures and monsters on the ground. Still, he’d been looking forward to a proper meal and a soft bed for the night, but it looks like he’ll have to make do with his bedroll and some dried meat. He always does.

He takes the saddle and reigns off of Roach and starts setting up camp – laying down his bedroll, gathering wood for a fire, checking his dwindling supplies. He counts his coin, finds out he’s still low on it and gold hasn’t magically appeared in his pouch since he looked this morning.

It’s the reason why he came here in the first place. Usually, he doesn’t venture this close to the mountains – the buildings always high up and only accessible from the air – but there haven’t been a lot of monsters in the plains and forests lately, so he had no other choice but to head east.

He looks up as he hears wings flapping, watches with a barely-hidden scowl when a young man descends from the air, softly lowering himself on one of the branches of a tree at the edge of the clearing. His feathers are a light shade of brown, almost golden in the late afternoon light, interspersed by darker ones painting long stripes across his wings. The young man cocks his head, keen, blue eyes taking in the sight of Geralt sitting on the ground, wingless.

“What are you doing down here?”

Geralt rolls his eyes, his already thin patience running out quickly. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Setting up camp.” Apparently this young man either doesn’t know what a rhetorical question is, or he’s unable to pick up on them. “But why down here?”

Geralt glares at him, narrowing his eyes at those golden-brown wings. The young man merely raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. Geralt sighs. “I can’t get up there.”

“Up where? The inn?” Geralt nods, and the stranger finally seems to get it, his eyes flicking to where Geralt’s wings should be, his mouth falling open in a soft ‘O’. He appears to figure out a lot of things in the next few seconds, his face going from confusion to realization back to confusion numerous times.

Geralt sighs, lighting the fire with a quick Igni, the blissful quiet stretching out between them.

“You’re the Witcher,” the young man says eventually. “Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken.” Geralt resists the urge to growl at the mention of that cursed town, his mind unhelpfully providing him with the memories of Renfri, of her blood coating his hands, of Stregobor cutting off her grey-and-white wings while the entire town chased Geralt away. He shakes his head to rid himself of the images.

Finally, the young man comes down from the tree, the tips of his wings dragging in the dirt behind him as he walks towards Geralt, extending his hand. Geralt doesn’t take it and looks away. Eventually, the young man gives up and sits down on the other side of the fire, big, blue eyes taking Geralt in, his brown feathers trembling slightly in excitement.

“I’m Jaskier, by the way.” Geralt doesn’t respond, but the young man continues regardless. “You know, I’m a bard. My lute is still up at the inn-“ he jabs his thumb up at the side of the mountain “-so you’ll just have to take my word for it, but it seems to me that you’ve got a bit of an image problem, Witcher. You know, I could be your barker-“

“No.”

“-spreading the tales of- of… Geralt of Rivia, the…” He seems to think for a few seconds, chin in his hand. “The White Wolf!” he finally exclaims, spreading his wings and arms dramatically, nearly knocking into Roach, who bristles angrily, taking a few steps away from the annoying and expressive bard.

Geralt looks at Jaskier for a few moments. “The White Wolf?” he eventually asks, voice flat.

Jaskier nods excitedly. “Yes! Because your hair is white and you don’t have any wings! I saw you pacing around here before I arrived, and I thought to myself ‘wow, this guy looks just like a wolf stalking its prey’, so there you have it! White Wolf! Do you like it?”

“No. Go away.” What the fuck does he need a barker for? He’s perfectly fine on his own. He’s managed seventy years alone on the path without wings, and he’ll manage a thousand more, thank you very much. Now all he needs is for this guy to fuck off and let him be so he can get some much-needed sleep. He’ll set out early again tomorrow.

Jaskier pouts a bit but gets up, luckily. “Alright, aright. I’ll leave you to it, then. Bye, Geralt.”

“Hmm. Bye.” He doesn’t look up from the fire, sees the flames dance in front of him as Jaskier flaps his wings and starts running, eventually taking off, up and up into the sky, towards the inn built into the mountainside. Once the sound of wings flapping has faded away, Geralt lets himself relax and eats a meagre meal of dried meat and a crust of stale bread. He falls into a restless sleep after that, his dreams plagued by black and white wings, speckled with blood.

---

He sets out early the next day, towards Dol Blathanna. A goat farmer had approached him in the morning, offering a hundred coins for a demon that kept stealing his goats. Geralt highly doubts that it’s a demon, but a job’s a job, and no matter how little money a hundred coins is, it’s better than nothing.

He saddles Roach and heads to the east. Before long though, he hears the sound of wings, someone flying towards him.

“Geralt! Hi!” Jaskier lands next to him, using his momentum to fall into step next to Geralt, Roach too slow and the branches too low to keep flying. He’s a bit out of breath, but his entire face is lit up with a smile that easily rivals the morning sun. There’s a lute hanging against his hip, Geralt notices.

“So, what are we hunting?”

Geralt scoffs. “We aren’t hunting anything. Fuck off.”

Jaskier pouts. “You know, you should really work on your people skills. I bet you’d get more contracts, then, though of course my songs will help. I mean, I’m almost getting the impression that you want me to leave!”

Geralt throws him an apprehensive look. “I do want you to leave. Go away.”

Jaskier huffs, his feathers puffing up slightly in annoyance. “No! No, you need my help, Geralt of Rivia. Unless, of course, you want to be forever known as the Butcher of Blaviken and a wingless monster.”

Geralt scoffs. “I am.”

“What? The Butcher of Blaviken or a wingless monster?”

“Both.”

Jaskier gasps, hand dramatically laying over his chest, wings stretching out, the tips bending forward a bit in shock. “You are most certainly not!”

“Well, I’m not a white wolf, either.”

Jaskier laughs softly, his wings folding behind his back again. “I assure you that you are. Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you agree?”

Geralt rolls his eyes, but feels something soft unfurl in his chest. “Hmm.”

The bard grins. “So you do agree! Of course you do. I’m right, after all.”

It continues on like that for a while, Jaskier chatting on and on, his wings almost equally as expressive as his hands, and he almost slaps an increasingly disgruntled Roach with them several times. Meanwhile, Geralt keeps quiet, only giving monosyllabic answers from time to time, keeping an eye out for this so-called ‘demon’. Eventually, he dismounts Roach, leaving her behind at one of the only trees visible in the plain of yellowed grass, the rich mountains no more than a silhouette behind his back. He continues on foot, Jaskier following closely behind, still chattering.

“Sorry, what are we looking for again?”

“Blessed silence.”

“… Yeah, don’t really go in for that.”

Something rustles in the grass, and Geralt barely has time to turn around before something hits Jaskier square between the eyes. The bard collapses onto the ground, and the witcher walks towards him, finds a small, metal ball on the ground. He looks up when he hears footsteps, registers the dark silhouette of a person against the bright sunlight, and is promptly struck against the back of the head, his vision fading to black rather abruptly and violently.

---

He wakes up in a cave, hands bound by his side, something soft and firm and trembling pressed to his back. He frowns, confused, until he moves his head a bit and feels feathers tickling against his cheeks, the wings behind him puffed up in fear – except they aren’t his wings. Of course they’re not; he lost his a long time ago.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” Jaskier says behind him.

Geralt grunts, starts struggling against the ropes that bind his wrists by his side.

“This is the part where we escape!” Jaskier exclaims, wings fluttering a bit in excitement, as if this is all just some big adventure.

“This is the part where they kill us,” he growls, still struggling against the bonds.

“Who’s they?” Jaskier’s wings contract in pain against Geralt’s back when a she-elf kicks the bard in the stomach.

Everything is a bit of a blur after that, getting his and the bard’s life threatened by the elves – easily identified as elves by their iridescent dragonfly wings – Jaskier’s lute getting destroyed, the elven king talking about the atrocities committed against them, and eventually letting the bard and the witcher go, even giving Jaskier a new, elven lute, the wood as shimmery and iridescent as their wings.

And before long, they’re headed back to Posada. Jaskier walks in front of him, strumming his new lute, singing a song of which only three words are true, give or take, his wings puffed up to let the soft breeze ruffle through the feathers.

Back in Posada, Jaskier offers Geralt to carry him up to the inn, which he resolutely refuses. There is a certain shame in having to stay on the ground while everyone else flies past, his differences pointedly underlined by his obvious lack of wings, but there’s something else entirely revolting about having to be carried up by a scrawny, little bard.

But instead of going back up to the inn alone, Jaskier stays on the ground with Geralt, practically stealing the Witcher’s spare bedroll.

“So,” Jaskier says, gently plucking away at the strings of his new lute. “What’s the deal with-“ he gestures at Geralt “-you know.”

He rolls his eyes. He’d much rather go to sleep right now than listen to the bard make redundant statements and ask vague questions. “No, I don’t know.”

Jaskier seems to hesitate, biting his bottom lip gently. “The wings,” he eventually half-whispers, as if it’s something Geralt’s sensitive about. Which he is, but he’d never show anyone that. “Where are they?”

“None of your business.” The light of the flames burns his eyes as he stares into the fire, and for a moment, he could swear he sees black and white feathers between the logs. For a moment, he’s still a boy at Kaer Morhen, looking on helplessly as they burn part of him, the barely-healed wounds in his back a constant, agonizing reminder of what he’s lost.

“Hmm,” Jaskier hums, plucking a few notes on his lute. “I suppose not. But there are rumours, you know? Like that you have to eat your own wings to become a Witcher.”

“That’s disgusting.”

Jaskier scrunches his nose. “Yeah, figured that one wasn’t real. Also heard a rumour that it’s what gives you your magic-“

“We don’t have magic.”

“-but my nan’s friend’s uncle’s brother’s teacher lost one wing during the war, and he didn’t get any magic powers, so I suppose that one’s a lie as well. I also heard a rumour-“

“Go to sleep, bard.”

Jaskier pouts at him for a second but Geralt doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he lies down on his bedroll, turning his back to the bard.

After a few seconds, he hears the faint rustling of clothes, the quiet thud of the elven lute being placed into the old, worn case, the clicking of locks being closed. He waits, watching the light of the fire dance across the trees around them, as Jaskier’s breathing grows slower and deeper.

Only when he’s sure that the bard’s asleep, does he let himself relax slightly, wincing when he shifts- the motion pulling at scars he can never truly forget. No matter how many nights have passed since that day so many decades ago, the ache in his back never fades.

He slips into a restless sleep.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 10 (Peter Parker x Fem!Oc)

Words:  3, 238

Masterlist

Chapter 9

"And how am I supposed to learn to control them if they forbid me to do anything?" Lily asks from the back seat.

“We’ll talk to your father. Depending on what happens, we’ll send them the necessary equipment,” informs Fury.

"Depending on what happens?"

"Legal aspects.”

"As which?"

"Lily, one problem at a time," Nat interrupts.

“Fine. Where are we going?"

"Do you want a donut?"

"Sure!"

The van pulls up outside the Randy’s Donuts store, Fury comes out. They both look at him from inside the car. Tony’s sitting on the huge donut.

"Why did we come for him?” She grits her teeth, remembering the annoyance towards her father.

"You two should talk," Nat says.

"I don’t want to.”

"If you want us to help you, that is the condition.”

Lily turns away from the window and folds her arms looking at the redhead.

"You didn't say anything about conditions.”

"Now there are.”

"It's not fair,” She sighs and then looks at Nat's outfit. "Why do you wear that? Is it your super spy uniform?"

 "Something like that. You like it?"

“You look weird, but I like it. Do you have weapons or explosives?"

“Perhaps."

The agent receives an order from her intercom. She responds and returns to the girl.

"Come on, I'll buy you a donut."

They both get out of the truck and enter the premises. Nat asks Lily a chocolate donut and walks to the chairs where Tony and Fury are, while the girl takes the donut from her and sits in an armchair away from them, with her back to them.

"Huh!" Tony says when he sees Natasha in a new outfit "You're... fired.”

"That's not up to you,” answers the redhead sitting down.

"Tony, I want you to meet Agent Romanoff,” adds Fury.

“Hi."

"I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D. shadow. Once we knew you were ill or out of control, I was tasted to you by Director Fury. Besides taking care of your daughter in risky situations,” She tilts her head towards Lily.

Tony frowns and looks away to meet the little girl, eating a donut while she swings her legs. He goes back to the redhead.

"I suggest you apologize,” answers Tony.

"You've been very busy," continues Fury. “You made your girl your CEO, you’re giving away your stuff, you neglect your daughter without taking into account the high priority over her powers, you let your friend fly way with your suit. Now, if I did’nt know better—”

 Tony rolls his eyes. Again, someone else scolding him for whatever stupid thing he does. Although he now knows that he did screw up, he doesn't want to hear it again. He has enough with his own mind.

"You don't know better. I didn’t give it to him. He took it."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, He took it?" asks Fury. “You’re Iron Man and he just took it? The Little brother walked in there, kicked your ass and took your suit?" He says. “Is that possible?"

“Well, according to Mr. Stark’s database security guidelines, there are redundancies to prevent unauthorized usage,” answers Nat.

Tony snorts.

"What do you want from me?"

“What do we want from you? Uh-uh,” Fury says as Natasha gets up. “What do you want from me? You have become a problem, a problem I have to deal with. Contrary to your belief, you are not the center of my universe,” He scolds him.

In that, Natasha injects something into Tony making him scream. The conversation is overheard by Lily, but only when he complains does she turn around.

"Oh, god, are you gonna steal my kidney and sell it?" Tony asks.

Natasha moves Tony's head and Fury sees the lines on Stark's neck slowly disappear.

Fury explains what the substance they just injected does to him.

“Give me a couple of boxes of that. I'll see right as rain."

"It's not a cure, it just abates the symptoms,” Nat explains.

"You need to get back to work, Stark," Fury says and Tony sighs. "And by Stark, I mean both," He points back.

Lily realizes that he sees her and turns away.

 "I don't think she wants to work as a team now."

“She has her reasons. You are a terrible companion.”

***

They all return home to Malibu. Tony and Nick sit on the terrace, now destroyed. They both talk about the reactor, the technology that Howard Stark couldn't finish, and about Vanko father and son.

Fury takes it upon himself to explain everything to Tony, while Lily returns from her room after making sure that no one had destroyed her. Nat had told him what happened with Rhodes and Tony.

The little girl walks to sit on the stairs that lead to the terrace, listening to the adults.

“You told me I hadn't tried everything. What do you mean I haven’t tried everything? What haven’t I tried?" Tony points out.

"He said that you were the only person with the means and knowledge to finish what he started.”

"He said that?"

“Are you that guy? Hmm? Are you? ‘Cause if you are, then you can solve the riddle of your heart. Or maybe, I should be discussing this with your daughter."

Tony winces and shakes his head. Lily frowns.

"I don't know where you get your information, but he wasn't my biggest fan," says Tony.

"I'm not either," adds Lily, resting her chin on her arm. Tony glances at her.

"What do you remember about your dad?"

This catches the girl's attention.

 “He was cold, he was calculating. He never told me he loved me. He never even told me he liked me, so it’s a Little tough for me to digest then you’re telling me he said the whole future was riding on me an’s passing it down. I don't get that."

Hearing that, Lily feels a little sorry for Tony. Only a little. She imagines how  could be her grandfather when Tony was her age.

"You're talking about a guy whose happiest day was when he shipped me off to boarding School.”

"That’s not true.”

"Well, then, clearly you knew my dad better than I did.”

“As a matter of fact, I did. You can believe and think many things about him, but knowing all that, do you really want Lily to think the same about you?" says Fury and then finishes his drink. More agents appear to drop off several suitcases. "Well then, what else will I know about one of the founding members of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

"What?"

All three get up. Lily walks over to see the suitcase.

"What’s this?" Tony asks pointing at her.

"You got this, right?" asks Fury.

"Got what? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to get,” answers Tony nervously.

“Natasha will remain a floater at Stark with her cover of her intact. And you remember Agent Coulson, right?"

“Yeah."

They both greet each other.

 "Oh, and Tony,” says Fury before leaving. "After you fix this whole mess, we should talk about Lily's new training, she needs it more than you do. And remember, I got my eye on you.”

The latter makes Lily laugh.

Natasha and Coulson explain to Tony what to do and what not to do, while Lily walks over to the suitcase.

Property of H.Stark

"Okay, time to work, Kid," says Tony.

“No," Lily walks away. "We've been together for several hours and you haven't even apologized, and now you're just hoping that I'll help you?"

Tony raises an eyebrow, shifting uncomfortably.

“Basically."

Lily looks at him in disbelief.

"I don't want to, I won't help you,” She says and then returns to her room.

***

The truth is that Lily does want to help him, but she knows he doesn't deserve it. Moreover, she cannot be alone in her room doing nothing. She wants to know what’s in that suitcase, but she doesn't want Tony to find out about her.

An idea crosses her mind. She may not be the stealthiest, but she is the only thing she has. She goes into the living room of her destroyed house and presses the hidden button on the emergency elevator that goes alone to the workshop. She enters it and after a few seconds arrives at the workshop.

 All the lights are off and Tony is sitting in an armchair facing a projection. Lily sneaks up behind the old project.

They both watch the old Howard Stark tapes, rehearsing the presentation of what is now Stark Expo. The man has several mistakes with words, but something else calls him the attention to the girl. Just as a little boy comes out the other side of the desk where Howard presents a model. The boy takes one of the pieces and Howard notices.

“Tony, what are you doing back there? What is that? Put that back!” He scolds him.

Lily leans in to get a better look at the boy version of her father. Now she can see the resemblance between Howard and Tony when scolding their children, but is also fun to watch.

Several takes with more errors follow.

“So, from all of us at Stark Industries, I’d like to personally show you my ass,” says Howard. Lily can't help but laugh at his words, giving away her presence. Although Tony had listened to her since she arrived.

"I know you're in there, kid. You're too curious to miss this,” She comes out of her hiding place, crawling on the ground until she reaches the other side of the projector.

"I'm still mad.”

Tony sighs.

"I know,” He leans in the chair and sets aside a notebook.

“Tony," says Howard causing both of them to return to the screen. “You’re too young to understand this right now, so I thought I would put this film for you. I built this for you. And Someday you'll realize that it represents a whole lot more than just people’s inventions. It represents my life’s work. This is the key to the future,” He shows the model and the reactor. “I'm limited by the technology of my time, but one day you'll figure this out. And when you do, you will change the world. What is and always will be my greatest creation… is you,” The tape ends.

 "Do you think Grandpa Howard would love me?" Lily asks when the lights come on.

Tony laughs when he hears ‘Grandpa Howard’, he’s sure he wouldn’t like to be called that.

"I don’t know. Maybe he would love you more than me,” He looks at Lily.

"I am more adorable than you.”

Tony nods, unable to fight back. He sighs. He thinks about the words of his father and wonders why he was never like this with him when they were together. Why does he have to find out about this from a tape or from other people? Then he thinks of his own daughter and Fury's words come back to him.

Tony doesn't want Lily to grow up thinking that he was worse than Howard, he knows what he did.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you that day," He begins.

"And?" She says crossing her arms.

"And sorry for what you had to witness at the party.”

"And?"

Tony purses his lips.

“I'm sorry I failed you. I shouldn't have left you alone, or yell at you, or lie to you.”

"Nat told me that your chest was killing you,” He nods. "Didn't it occur to you to ask for help?"

“It is somewhat complicated. When you say that you are dying, everyone panics.”

"But then they help you.”

 "I guess so.”

Lily feels a lump in her throat. Just remembering that, she again feels afraid of losing her father without even knowing something about what was really going on.

"I don't like that you hide things from me or lie to me," she says with a broken voice.

“Sorry."

"No, you must promise that you won’t do it again,” she interrupts him.

Tony watches Lily's determination.

"I promise.”

“Mr. Fury said we are a team. You must do your part,” she says as she gets up.

"Mr. Fury?"

"Dad!"

"Okay, okay, I got it!” He argues. In that he remembers an unfinished business. Tony stayed for a moment in the destroyed mansion and as he passed through the kitchen he saw a burned box on the sides.

He walks over to his desk with Lily following him. He removes the remains from the box and carefully takes the gift from him.

"It's a good try…”

"But you didn't even open it," she complains.

"I'm sorry, but you were missing some details.”

Lily rolls her eyes.

 "I put it together by watching a video, it's not as if you had explained each part to me.”

“That can change. Do you remember the rules we agreed upon the first time you were in the workshop?" She nods. “Forget the question limit. From now on, you must ask.”

Lily can't help but smile.

“Agree."

"So, are we good now?"

"Yup, but if you do something wrong, I'll tell Mr. Fury to scold you again."

"He didn't scold me," He complains.

"Whatever you say. Now what shall we do?"

Tony sighs and then winces.

“I must go to Pepper, stay here and cover me with the secret agents. I will not be late.”

"Good luck.”

***

After a few hours, Tony returns with the demo that his father had shown on the tapes. He arms it on various tables.

“Cool," says Lily approaching.

Tony orders Jarvis to scan every detail so he can manipulate it, he takes the hologram and moves it away from the table.

“Open your eyes wide, Kid. The answer to our problems is here,” says Tony giving her a bench and he sits on another. They both look at the model.

"What do we have to look for?"

"A new element.”

“Easy," she says sarcastically.

"My father put it here, we just have to move some things,” He brings the projection towards the center, a sphere.

"He must have something at the core," Tony whispers.

Lily sees what is around.

"What if…?”

"What?"

"What if we put everything together?"

Tony frowns, but an idea crosses his mind.

Little by little, Tony is gathering the important aspects towards the center of the Expo and in each step, he’s explaining Lily. In the end he manages to find a new element, the possible solution to the problem of intoxication.

"Dead for almost twenty years, and still taking me to school,” He says watching his creation. "Nice work, Kid.”

She smiles.

"How will you make it work?" She asks.

"Unfortunately, it’s impossible to synthesize," reports Jarvis.

Tony gets up from his chair.

“Get ready for a major remodel, fellas! We're back in hardware mode. C’mon, kid.”

Between Lily and Tony - mostly Tony - they break down some walls, open the floor and use any energy source in the mansion to connect it to the workshop part. They both open some boxes that S.H.I.E.L.D left them and use every material they have on hand.

"Hold the lamp," Tony tells her.

"It's what I'm doing,” Lily claims while she also tries to see what Tony is doing.

"More to the right.”

"What does that do?"

“Gives more energy. Bring the lamp closer…”

In the meantime, neither of them notices that Phil walks into the shop.

"I heard you broke the perimeter,” says the agent.

"Whoops" says Lily.

"Uh, yeah. That was, like, three years ago. Where have you been?" Tony answers.

"I was doing some stuff.”

"Yeah, well, us too, and it worked.”

Coulson checks the boxes. He pulls out some kind of unfinished shield.

"What’s that?" asks Lily.

“It’s exactly what we need to make this work. Lily, take it,” She obeys. "Lift the coil,” He says to Coulson and between them they lift it up a bit. Enough for Lily to put it under. Tony sets the leveler. “Perfectly level. I'm busy what do you want?"

 Coulson warns him that he must go on another mission and says goodbye.

"Glad to see you are a part of it, Lily.”

"It was not easy,” she answers making him laugh.

The hours pass and they both go back to work. In the end, Tony gives Lily some special glasses and explains what they will do.

The energy is concentrated in the device.

"Initializing prismatic accelerator," reports Jarvis. Suddenly a fine laser is projected and reflected off a material.

"Get behind me,” Tony orders him.

Stark operates the machine with the laser, but not before cutting part of the wall where he directs it.

"Oh oh.”

“Oops!"

With difficulty, the laser reaches the small inverted triangle that Tony prepared so that the power would be trapped there. After a few minutes, they turn off the machine. Tony approaches and with tweezers takes the triangle and puts it in the reactor. The item’s accepted.

"We did it?" Lily asks.

“We did it."

She sighs in relief, right now she feels the exhaustion. She walks over to the couch and sits on it.

"Wake me up when we're in trouble," she warns him.

"Why would we be in trouble?"

 "Rhodey says we have that talent.”

"Makes sense.”

In that a beep is heard.

"Incoming call and with a blocked number, sir,” warns Jarvis.

“My phone privilege is reinstated. Lovely. Kid, we have the phone back!"

“Great," she answers from the couch.

"Coulson. How’s the land of enchantment?"

"Hey. Tony. How you doing?” The voice is unknown to Lily so she settles in the chair and leans out. "I doubled cycle."

"You what?"

“You told me double cycle’s more power. Good advice.”

"You sound pretty sprightly for a dead guy.”

"What?" whispers Lily. She gets up and walks over to Tony. He makes a sign so that she doesn't make noise.

"You too,” answers the man.

Tony removes his microphone from the call.

"Trace him,” he orders Jarvis.

“Now, the true history of Stark name will be written. Your secrets will be revealed at any moment."

"What is he talking about, dad?"

Tony ignores her and keeps checking the call.

 “What your father did to my family over forty years, I will do to you in forty minutes and I will make sure your offspring disappear. I hope you're ready,” He says, and then hangs up.

Tony sees Justin Hammer's announcement at Stark Expo on another screen, and based on the coordinates of the call, Vanko may have something planned for the event. He gets up and takes the new reactor.

"Dad?"

Stark replaces the reactor in his chest, after coughing a bit, the man feels the difference.

"Time to go,” He says walking towards his armor.

"Hey! No. You promised—”

"I have to go, Lily."

“But, you must tell me what happens. You promised not to lie to me,” She gets in her way. He sighs.

"Vanko, the man who tried to kill me in Monaco, wants to do something at the Expo and I have to stop him.”

“What does he plan to do?"

"I'm not sure. You must stay here. I'll talk to Fury about sending agents here. Turn on the TV, I'm sure they'll put it on,” He continues on his way.

“Dad," He turns again. "Be careful, please.”

Tony smiles and nods.

"Stay in the workshop in case I need your help.”

"You got it.”

Taglist:

@silenthappyplace​​ @yourbonesareinmybody​ @aylauwuuniverse    @skittles-skittles​ @hufflepuffzutara​ @poetryislife0715 @21bruhs​ @heavenlymistakes​ @my-love-of-books​ @dielgonacoffee​

[muertawrites]

Two Halves - Chapter Seventeen (Zuko x Reader)

Chapter 16 - Part 1 - Part 2

Word Count: 2,130

Author’s Note: All I’m gonna say is that I think my exposition sucks, but here it is, the plot has returned (Alexa play Edge of Seventeen)

News of your newfound comfort with your husband sweeps silently and swiftly throughout the palace following your return from Ember Island, the sideways glances you receive from diplomats and servants alike impossible to overlook. Those mulling about the corridors gawk as you leave your quarters beside Zuko each morning, whispers muttered over the scandal that you now sleep in the same bed; eyes widen when you brazenly peck his lips in the company of others, and cheeks redden when his hand is spied resting shamefully low on your waist. Neither of you mind the reproachful attention, however - you want your love to be seen. 

Of course, it’s a short matter time before the council gets involved in the affair, your advisors calling a meeting less than a week after your return to berate you about the newest stain on your public image. 

“It’s disgraceful!” rages one of Yong’s aides, tossing his arms about as he shoots himself out of his seat. “The Firelord and lady are figures of authority - not foolish teenage lovers! Do you have any idea how idiotic this makes you look to the nation? To the world??” 

“Hakoda loved his wife publicly,” you flatly answer, taking a tauntingly unbothered sip of the tea laid out before you. “He’s still a very respected leader, both in the Southern Water Tribe and in other parts of the world.” 

“Chief Hakoda’s wife held no power,” the aide spits. He leans menacingly over the table towards you, clenching his fists. “You are no longer a weak, sheltered Water Tribe woman. You’re queen of one of the strongest governments to ever exist - you need to damn well act like it.” 

You shift your gaze towards the man, fixing him with a subtle, cutting glare that makes him pale. You feel the weight of your betrothal necklace at your throat, the force pushing you upward to stand at eye level with him. 

“I was never weak,” you state. “I was never sheltered. I watched Fire Nation soldiers murder my parents when I was six years old, and supported an entire village in my siblings’ absence when they left to fight with the Avatar. I willingly left my home to marry a stranger for the betterment of my people; do not call me weak for learning to love him.” 

A heavy silence falls over the room, a dozen sets of eyes trained on you. You stand, unwavering, unblinking, staring at the aide who challenged you; he sets his jaw, refusing to lower himself. Yong comes up beside him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“What Jenshi means,” she sternly justifies, “is that there are still many people in the Fire Nation who are loyal to Ozai, who are used to a Firelord and lady that operate as a political alliance rather than a traditional marriage; those people may view your affections as a sign of weakness and attempt to take advantage of it.” 

“Yes,” Jenshi mutters, lowering his shoulders as he calms himself. “And with all due respect, my lady, we still don’t know who we can trust. The threat may still very well be within the palace walls.” 

You and Zuko turn to each other, sharing a noiseless, worried look; he takes your hand, squeezing it tightly as he addresses the entire room, lowering you back to his side. 

“What do the other sectors have to say?” he questions. “Military?” 

“The general consensus so far is that the military doesn’t care,” answers Counselor Chin. “Your superior skill as a warrior is revered, and the Firelady has proven a great leader in regards to our decolonization efforts. Your personal lives are of no concern to us, and we are primed to defend you against all existing dangers.” 

“Ethically there are a few problems,” chimes Advisor Shi, head of the Integrity Committee. “Your actions go against what has been culturally accepted since before Sozin’s reign; a Firelord and lady aren’t meant to be publicly affectionate with one another, no matter how they may feel for each other beyond the nation’s eye.” 

Zuko hums, nodding. 

“I understand,” he responds. “But we are trying to move away from the traditional monarchy. We’ve already established that we don’t want any children we have to be forced into their roles, and public reception was relatively accepting. What could it hurt for us to be honest about our feelings for each other?”

“It brings us back to concerns over dissent,” Yong interjects. “As Jinshi said, we’re no closer to understanding who was behind Counselor Fen’s murder or what their intentions are; we can’t let them use your emotions as leverage.” 

“Has word really spread that quickly?” you ask her, fear beginning to quake in the center of your chest. “They’re talking about it outside the palace?” 

“No,” Jinshi replies, “but it will soon. If there are actors within the palace, we assume they already know and will attempt to play your intimacy with each other to their advantage.” 

Zuko’s body stiffens, the corners of his lips turning downward into a grave, shadowed grimace. He nods in concession, but doesn’t let go of your hand. 

“We’ll watch ourselves,” he affirms, clutching your palm tighter within his. “In the meantime, I want everyone within the palace’s actions to be heavily monitored. No one is safe if we’re not.” 

After the meeting, you and Zuko take lunch together, choosing the unromantic and relatively public setting of a stateroom outside your private wing of the palace. Anxiety causes your stomach to churn like the ocean in a storm, hindering your appetite so that you only pick at your food - you notice that Zuko does the same. 

“... I visited the physician this morning,” you tell him, breaking the uneasy stagnance. “She said the medicine worked - I’m not pregnant.” 

“Good,” Zuko murmurs. His hand is raised to his chin, his voice distant as he keeps his pensive gaze aimed at an empty space on the table before you. “One less thing we have to worry about.” 

“What’s on your mind?” you ask.

“The attacks,” Zuko relays. “They’re not… normal.” 

“Normal how?” 

Zuko sighs, folding his arms in front of him as he continues to ponder, his brow furrowing in search of the correct words. 

“... They’re not what my father would do,” he says after a pause. “He wouldn’t utilize outsiders like the Dai Li, or kill an indirect target just to make a statement. That’s what Azula would do.” 

“... So you think she was behind it?” you guess. “They could have been her ideas, but the fact that she took herself out means that there had to have been someone else.” 

“Exactly,” Zuko agrees. “And that’s what’s confusing. The only person she ever feared was our father, but after he abandoned her during the comet, she hated him. Everything we have from her investigation supports that. She’d never be allegiant to him.” 

“But who else could have convinced her?” you wonder. “What else? Threatening her life clearly didn’t mean anything, and she renounced her loyalty to the Fire Nation when she was arrested. Do you think that… that maybe someone told her they were trying to overthrow you? That they offered to let her take your place?” 

“Azula was like our father. If she wanted to take over, she would’ve just taken over. She never would have taken the throne if it were offered.” 

“So… she wasn’t the one leading the attacks… but her pride kept her from bending to anyone’s will but her own. What was her place, then?” 

“I think she just wanted me dead,” Zuko admits. “Whoever approached her, they asked for her help in killing me. They gave her the opportunity to exact her revenge in a way that destroyed me little by little, the way she wanted to see it happen.” 

“... But Ozai and his supporters don’t operate that way,” you recall. 

“ They don’t,” Zuko echos. “They take by force.” 

You meet his eyes, a deep, tumbling chasm bottoming out in your stomach, the shockwave reverberating through your body. Your limbs feel limp, your head dizzy. 

“It’s not the Fire Nation,” you realize.

The words come out in a quiet gasp, carried by what little breath you can manage to force from your lungs. Zuko’s expression falls gravely blank; he reaches for your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips without thought or care to who could see. 

“It’s not the Fire Nation,” he repeats. “Which means… there might be no one we can trust.”

The door to your bedroom slides open and sputters shut behind you, indicating Zuko’s entrance; bent over, fumbling with the ties on your robes, you don't turn to greet him, but instead share the message you got that afternoon. 

“Toph is coming,” you announce. “She heard about Azula and is worried about our safety, so she's bringing a group of-” 

You cease completely as you face the man standing in front of the doorway, horrified to find that he isn't your husband. 

“I must say, you really know how to upset things,” Advisor Xiang sneers, pacing slowly towards you. 

You take a few steps back, cornering yourself back against the nearest wall; in the waist of your robes, Suki’s fan presses harshly to your side, too hidden for you to reach without alerting your intruder.

“Get out,” you quip. “Get out before I call the guards.” 

“Make one sound and this knife will end up in your neck,” Xiang threatens. He raises a blade from his hip, holding it menacingly level with your throat; as he closes in on you, he lets it graze your skin, his gaunt, sunken face glaring down at you like a demon summoned from the darkest corner of hell. 

“You were supposed to run, little girl,” he drawls on. “You were supposed to die in Ba Sing Se. None of this - this love you have for the Firelord, your flirting with the possibility of continuing his bloodline - was ever supposed to happen. And we can't let it happen.” 

“Who is ‘we’?” you demand. You try to make your voice firm, unshaken, but it quivers in your mouth, causing Xiang to release a belittling chuckle. 

“You won't find that out,” he taunts. “I've come to discuss the terms of your punishment. You see, since you defied everything we expected of you, we’re going to make you do what we planned to do months ago - you're going to kill Zuko.” 

Bile rises to the back of your throat, your gut seizing in a panicked, terrified hitch. You shake your head, quickly and minutely, tears starting to sear the corners of your eyes. 

“No,” you detest. “I won't do it. We’ll stop you.” 

“You will do it,” Xiang hisses, “because if he isn't dead within the next seven days, your entire family - that bumbling brother, his wife, your sister and her precious little family, even your father - will die instead.” 

He removes the dagger from your neck, grinning tauntingly, maliciously, as he slips it into the loose breast of your robes. His touch sickens you, but you're too petrified to force him back. 

“And don't you dare try reaching out for help,” he snarls. “We have informants throughout the palace - we’ll know every move you make, and if anyone gets word of this, your loved ones will all perish, and this time you’ll have no one to take you in.” 

It's only when Xiang releases you do you realize he had a hold on your wrist, gripping you so tightly that he leaves flaming red marks on your skin. Tears bubble down your cheeks, a sob lodged in your throat that you refuse to let go. 

“Why are you doing this?” you plead. 

You don't know why you expect him to answer honestly - you don't know why you expect him to answer at all. He smirks, showing the ugly, yellowed points of his irregularly sharp canines. 

“Because Zuko would have been better off dead when Ozai gave him that scar,” he replies. “His is a family of sociopaths and murders, my dear - we must end the cycle before it repeats itself.” 

Xiang slips through the door he ambushed you from, and you're left alone in your terror. Fingers shaking, you take the knife from your robes and hide it under the mattress, your mind racing as you try to figure out what you can possibly do to save the people you love. 

You're in bed by the time Zuko returns, the lights turned out and your body hidden beneath the blankets, too shaken to face him. As he lays down beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nestling into the comfort of your body, all you can feel is the blade beneath you, slicing your side as ruthlessly as if you were the one sentenced to death.

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