#its not like sitting at home in this fucking cold house beats the suffering of others

[apocripha-0]

Its so amusing we're not going to my grandma's house for Thanksgiving because my mum doesnt like that my uncle starts to drink which leds him to start crying about grandpa which then leds to my grandma starting to cry.

[actuallythatgirl]

The Final Battle Alastor X Reader

The final battle, but instead of Alastor taking the hit, you do.

part 1 part 2 part 3

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As we sit on the rooftop, a low, ominous buzzing fills the air. I glance up, my heart sinking as I spot a small, hovering drone circling above us. The logo of the VEES is unmistakable—those damn surveillance drones.

“What in Hell…?” I murmur, my mind racing with a surge of panic. I can barely comprehend the situation as my gaze locks onto the drone, its camera lens glinting ominously in the harsh light.

“We need to get off this roof, my dear,” Alastor says, his voice dangerously calm. He turns his head to look at the drone with a mixture of irritation and something darker, more menacing. His usual mocking demeanor has been replaced by a sharp, cold edge that sends a chill down my spine.

I scramble to my feet, my body still aching from the previous ordeal. “Are they—are the VEES recording us?” I ask, my voice trembling. The realization hits me hard—everything that’s happened, every moment of vulnerability, might have been captured and broadcasted. I feel exposed, the weight of their intrusion adding another layer of fear.

“Quite possibly,” Alastor replies, his eyes narrowing as he watches the drone’s erratic movements. “They’re notorious for their relentless surveillance.”

The urgency in his voice makes my blood run cold. The VEES don’t just record—they exploit. The thought of them having footage of this encounter, our injuries, our private moments, is nauseating.

“Fuck me,” I curse under my breath. The situation is spiraling out of control, and the thought of our private suffering being used for their twisted entertainment is almost more than I can bear.

Alastor’s expression darkens further, his usual composure fraying under the strain. “We need to move, now. If they’ve been recording us, we can’t afford to stay here.”

He struggles to stand, his movements still unsteady but driven by a fierce determination. Despite his injuries, he manages to help me to my feet. Together, we stumble toward the edge of the roof, our only focus now on escaping the prying eyes of the VEES and getting to safety.

"My dear, this is going to feel quite strange," Alastor chokes out, his voice rasping with exhaustion, almost more of a strained wheeze than his usual confident tone. I hesitate, trying to grasp what he meant, but before I can ask, the world begins to shift. It feels like reality itself is bending. The colors around us deepen unnaturally, as though someone turned the saturation way up, casting a surreal, darker hue over everything.

The ground beneath me seems to melt away as I feel myself sink, the familiar sensations of my body slipping away. My mind fights to hold onto some sense of control, but it’s useless—everything is dissolving. I try to look towards Alastor, hoping for some clarity, but the shadows swallow him whole. For a moment, I’m weightless, floating in some in-between space, detached from my own being. And just as quickly as the darkness consumes me, it releases its grip.

The world snaps back into existence with a violent thud.

I stumble, trying to regain my bearings. Around me, it’s as though we’ve stepped into a different time—a house, old but well-kept, like we’ve fallen back into the 1930s. The architecture is elegant, with polished wooden floors, brass fixtures, and vintage décor that could have come straight from a film noir. This must be Alastor's home—a place steeped in the charm and eerie beauty of a bygone era.

A groan from beside me draws my attention, and my heart skips a beat. I look down and see Alastor sprawled on the floor, his once-charismatic figure now crumpled and drained. His last ounce of strength had been used to bring us here, wherever ‘here’ is.

"Dear God… Al?" My voice trembles, the weight of fear pressing into my chest as I kneel beside him. Even in my disoriented state, I can tell something is wrong—very wrong. His face is pale, his eyes closed. I reach out, but my own body barely has the energy to keep me upright. My muscles scream in protest, and I sway, almost collapsing next to him. “Are you okay?” I choke out, desperately needing a response.

But none comes.

Panic tightens its icy grip around my throat. "Alastor, I need you to wake up… please." The silence is unbearable. My mind races as I realize he might not be conscious. "Now, damn it!" But again, there’s nothing—just the oppressive quiet of the house around us.

Fear thrumming through my veins, I whisper, "Forgive me for this," and carefully roll him onto his back, my heart pounding louder in my ears with every passing second. His normally sharp, mischievous eyes remain shut, his face slack. He’s out cold. I can’t even tell how badly he’s hurt.

The surge of fear becomes a roar, drowning out every other thought. I need medical supplies. Anything.

I spring to my feet, fighting through my own injuries as I rush from room to room, pulling open drawers, cabinets—anything that might hold some form of first aid. “Come on… come on. You get into enough fights, you have to have something,” I mutter through gritted teeth. Desperation turns my movements frantic, but each cabinet reveals nothing useful.

I dash up the stairs, feeling like I’m running against time. The house looms around me in its vintage elegance, each piece of furniture a ghost from another era. It’s unsettling how pristine everything looks—like time stopped in the 1930s. Then, I find it—an old wooden door leading into a bathroom. The décor is still perfectly in line with the rest of the house—white subway tiles, polished brass fixtures, a claw-footed tub—but my focus is the cabinet above the sink.

I fling it open and find a small box tucked inside. Finally—medical supplies. I grab it, but as I turn to leave, the sight in the mirror stops me cold.

I barely recognize myself. My reflection stares back, a grotesque version of who I used to be. My face is a battered canvas of swollen black and blue, the bruises blossoming across my skin like ugly flowers. Deep, jagged cuts stretch from my temple to my jawline, the blood drying in uneven streaks, cracking as I move. Dust and grime cling to my skin, mingling with the blood, while debris clots in my tangled hair, matting it against my scalp with a gritty, uncomfortable weight.

My arms are a tapestry of agony, crisscrossed with deep gashes—some still oozing sluggish trails of blood, the edges puckered and angry. Dried streaks stain the skin beneath my fingernails, and each movement pulls at the open wounds, sending fresh spikes of pain shooting through my body.

I lift my shirt, gasping as my fingertips brush against the large, purpling bruises that blotch my torso. The dark blotches are swollen, throbbing with each breath, a sickening reminder of the beating I barely survived. Every breath sends a ripple of pain through the bruised ribs beneath. This body, this broken shell, feels foreign—too fragile, too damaged, to be mine.

Shaking off the shock, I rush back to Alastor, hoping I’m not too late.

[miinomo]

my little maid.

✿ pairings - Erwin x Maid Fem! (Chubby) Reader

contains - (18+ content MDNI) Infidelity, Body worship, Age gap, Creampie, Dark Content

✿ Synopsis - A bad day could change in moments of Erwin coming home to his perfect maid. One that could never deny him the pleasure that his cold, unloving wife denies him on a daily basis. 

You stood in one of the bigger guest bedrooms while staring at yourself in the mirror. It was a Venetian mirror that had lacquered wood finished in dark red with a high gloss varnish coat. It was one of the many expensive furnishings that caught your eye in the Smith’s household. It was like there was always something to be looking at. All of their furniture seemed straight out of a film, or a novel. The type of couches or beds you would see in a mansion on the big screen. 

When you were first hired by Mrs. Smith, you weren’t as great of a cleaner as you are now. It was tough-- Getting used to cleaning so many rooms, and so thoroughly at that. But you picked up a good technique rather quickly. And for that, the Smith’s were thankful. Their home always seemed to accumulate a lot of dust in such a short period, so without you, they would surely be suffering something fierce in the realm of allergies.

The uniform, however, was something Mr. Smith’s wife did not approve of. The skirt was too short, the stockings- too revealing. Whenever she would come home and see you dressed so whorishly it made her skin crawl. But looking at yourself, it felt nice. Even though you weren’t a model, you were a bit thicker than most women that society deemed beautiful- Mr. Smith never made you feel that way, like you weren’t good enough. He looked at you as if you were the only woman in the world. 

His words affected you more than he would ever know- “You started as a blank canvas. Everything about you, down to your stretch marks is beautiful. And I will tell you every day until you believe it yourself.” That was what he said to you the first time the two of you had been intimate. You were nervous and shy for him to see your unclothed body. But he insisted, he wanted to worship all of you, not just the parts that anyone could see on a day-to-day basis.

Abruptly the front door was slammed and it caused your heart to drop into your stomach. The sudden sound had frightened you- you were so caught up in reminiscing on past experiences with Mr. Smith and didn’t notice it was around the time he usually came home. The loud noise echoed through the house, which was a common occurrence anywhere with long hallways and high ceilings. “Mr. Smith?” You called after walking to the doorway, wanting to be sure the person that entered the premises was truly who you were expecting. 

“Yes, y/n. It’s me.” His stern, yet comforting voice announced. “Come downstairs when you have a moment.” The tone in his voice suggested two possibilities. Either he and his wife were fighting again, or he had a bad day at work. Making your way downstairs you could see him sitting at the dining table with his head resting in his hands. You were guessing it was the latter due to it being directly after business hours that he looked so unhappy. 

“Yes. Work was quite hectic today, but it was also Marleen. She was constantly calling me while I was in the middle of a presentation with a new client. Needless to say, it did not go well.” Erwin looked at you as you stood at the opposite side of the table. “Please sit y/n. I would love your company. Dusting can wait.” Although Erwin was venting to you- your chest felt warm. It was always the same feeling you got when looking at him. He held himself so well. His posture, so upright. Everything about him just screamed ‘gentleman.’ 

The sound of your flats tapping against the white tiles was what made Mr. Smith’s attention come back to you. “How was work, Mr. Smith? Was it as unpleasant as it seemed?” You approached the oaky table which had hand-carved details of the intricate marquetry and like the mirror from upstairs; it was also finished with a high gloss varnish. 

The ocean blue eyes that you loved to look into were staring you down as his warm hand enveloped yours. “I missed you so much. You have no idea how long today felt. And now that I’m here with you it’s like a weight was taken off of my shoulders.” He confided in you. The world felt so quiet- usually, you could hear the birds chirping, the winds howling, or even the neighbors doing yard work. But not right now. Not while Mr. Smith sat so close, telling you all he needed to feel better was to take one look at you. 

“I missed you too Mr. Smith.” You smiled at him while he rubbed his thumb over your hand. “y/n, I’ve told you at least a dozen times you may call me Erwin.” His voice was so calm. Every time he said your name it felt like your heart was going to burst. “I know you have, but it’s easier for me to slip up if I get too comfortable.” Silence filled the room for a moment. Bringing up the fact that you two were hiding your love for each other was never easy. Even if he was in an unhappy marriage, it felt wrong sometimes. 

“I understand.” Erwin looked away from you for only a moment before directing his gaze straight back to you. “Would you accompany me upstairs? I would love your help with something.” Just from the tone in his voice, you knew where this was going. He needed relief, and you weren’t planning to deny him. “Of course, Mr. Smith.” You got up from your seat and followed him through the hall. 

The two of you walked up the stairs together- you following behind him while he held onto the railing. “We’re going to the master bedroom.” He instructed before taking a right when he reached the top of the stairway. The halls were decorated with many expensive pieces of art. Paintings, teaware, and framed botanicals hung on the brown walls. The white marbled tile of the floor accentuated the brown in such a pleasant way. 

Erwin turned around to look at you after entering through the doorway. “You’re so beautiful.” He rested his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him. Bringing you to his chest and looking down at you, he smiled. “Having you here with me... I couldn’t ask for anything more.” He leaned down, encasing your lips in his. His kisses were always so passionate. You could feel the care and love behind his desperate groans into your mouth. 

“I love you.” Your eyes widened and a loud ringing came to your ears. Mr. Smith just confessed his love to you. You both mutually knew that you cared deeply for one another, but hearing him say those words was just something you couldn’t have imagined. The words were so sweet. “Please, y/n. Let me have you.” He ran his hands down to your ass and gripped it lightly. You looked into his eyes and without hesitance, you gave him your answer. “You don’t even have to ask.” 

And with that, Erwin picked you up continuing to kiss you with as much passion as he could. His tongue explored the inside of your mouth and fought against your own for dominance. Although you would never actually try to overtake him. You loved how much of a lead he took when the two of you were intimate. He walked with you in his arms, slowly making his way to the bed. It was the largest bed in the house, with lilac satin sheets. They were cool and soft against your thighs when he placed you down onto them. 

“Mr. Smith, are you sure we should have sex in here? This is...” The thought of his wife sleeping in this bed later tonight was clouding your head. “We will just have to be sure we don’t make a mess.” He breathed against your plush lips before kissing you yet again. Your hands snaked their way up around his neck, touching the back of his head. His haircut was a bit scratchy due to the undercut and shave he opted for. 

“Erwin.” You moaned into his mouth as his large hand made its way up to your inner thigh slowly. He gripped onto your skin, pushing his thumb down just enough to apply a bit of pain. “I love how much of you there is to love.” He pulled back from the kiss and smiled endearingly while looking into your eyes. “You’re perfect. And I love you.” Your heart skipped a beat from his comments. “I love you too Erwin.” 

With your confession, Erwin found in himself that he was no longer able to be patient. He would usually prep you for him, with his tongue or fingers. But he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be inside of you. “Are you wet enough for my cock, y/n?” He breathed against your ear while he focused on undoing his belt. Tossing it to the side of the room, he proceeded to unzip his pants- pulling his cock through his trousers. 

You could feel his member poking the inside of your legs while he kissed your neck, occasionally biting down onto your skin. “Fuck, I want you.” You hissed through your teeth as he nibbled your ear. His breath was warm as was his tongue, which ran down the side of your neck before he placed light and feathery kisses along the trail of saliva he left behind. “Then you’ll have me.” He groaned before pushing his cock deep inside of you. 

No amount of slick was ever enough to make taking him easy. It always felt like he was assaulting your insides when he thrust so deeply into you. Stretching you more than anyone else ever had. Erwin let out a breathy moan. “You’re so tight.” During sex, your holes always squeezed him just right. To the point where your pussy would make forming sentences a challenge. You always made him feel so good. He planted his feet firmly into the ground while you laid on your back, looking up to the ceiling. He grabbed ahold of your thighs and pushed your legs up, resting them onto his shoulder before he began pounding into you.

The ivory frills on your skirt tickled his skin as he kept his rhythm. You gasped every time you felt him ram into your cervix. You felt your eyes start to roll back into your head; his veiny cock was almost too much for you. Continuously mixing up your insides, each vein pulling at your inner walls. He grabbed onto your hips harshly, keeping you in place while he brought your pussy to the base of his cock. The two of you were moaning so loudly it started to echo throughout the house. “shit, y/n. Fuck, you’re squeezing, so fucking tight.” His voice was shaky. 

Your hands searched for anything to hold onto while your body rocked back and forth on the bed. Finally settling on the soft and luxurious satin sheets. You balled them into your fists and cried out his name repeatedly. “I’m going to cum, Erwin.” Your walls clenched his cock so tight, not wanting it to leave with each pump. Your legs began to shake and fall from his shoulders but he grabbed ahold of your thighs. Holding them in place and speeding up the pace of him ramming into your pussy. Deeper than ever. 

“Don’t spill any of my cum, baby. It’d be a pain to get out of these sheets.” He chuckled as his hips spastically jerked forward. He groaned and leaned his head back as his warm seed shot into you. Your pussy was filled up with his cum and your cheeks were bright pink. It was so thick, so much. You were scared you wouldn’t be able to hold all of it in. He pulled out of you slowly, making sure you put his thumb on your hole when his cock finally exited your gaping hole. “Should I cork you? Make sure not a drop escapes your beautiful pussy?” He smirked as he looked over at a bottle of red wine, sitting on the granite countertop of his dresser. 

You thought for a moment and couldn’t help but lick your lower lip. “Please cork me.” Your response surprised him, this time he was the one who was shocked. His eyebrows raised slightly but he kept his smug expression. “Oh? If you keep all of it in till the end of your shift tonight, maybe I’ll reward you. My beautiful, little maid.” 

✿✿✿ Author’s Notes ✿✿✿ - Although I don’t normally write a note at the bottom of my pieces I wanted to address something. I’ve been seeing a few people that I follow having body shaming anons coming into their ask boxes, and that’s not cool. I am all for body positivity and feeling good about yourself. But there’s a difference when your tone is bragging, versus being happy in your own skin. And I am a bit on the chubbier side myself and want anyone that is uncomfortable in their own skin to know that you’re beautiful and loved. Usually my writing is for all body types, but I wanted this one to be a bit more personal for us Chubby girls. I hope you all still enjoyed this piece, and can all one day love who you are and what you look like. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and don’t let anyone ever put you down. Thank you. 

[knifeythinks]

❣︎ make my birthday special ❣︎

🔪: a morbid way to celebrate Rin’s birthday 🥳

⚠️: 18+ CHARACTER DEATH, MURDER, ABUSIVE RIN, YANDERE RIN, STALKING and I think that’s it

🔪: I’m testing the waters when it comes to writing dark content. I didn’t want to make it too dark or too explicit but soon enough I probably will

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“S-Suna—“ “Its Rin.” Suna gave a glare and you nodded and licked your dry lips, “Rin.” You corrected and he gave a nod to continue. He was sitting backwards on a chair and leaned on his arms that were on top of the back rest. He had a butchers knife in his hand. “I-I can’t kill him, I can’t kill an innocent person. I’m sorry please, I’ll do anything. Just let Atsumu go.” You pleaded, your vision became blurry with your tears.

“And why would I wanna do that?” He whispered in your ear and you jumped, frightened almost dropping the knife in your hands and cutting of your naked toes. “Hm? Cat got your tongue?” He asked. “N-no...he didn’t know we were together. He didn’t know we’re in love. He shouldn’t suffer because he’s s-stupid.” You tried to reason.

In reality you’re not in love with him. Well I mean...you were..? He accepted your confession on graduation day of highschool but as years passed, he changed. You now have no friends, no phone, you’re stuck inside the house. He even convinced you to quit your job.

There are times where Suna gives you privileges when you behave for a good while. It’s called grace; doing things for him without expecting things in return, because you love him and you want to please him.

Examples are offering him popcorn when you’re both cuddled on the couch watching a horror movie or making him a bath when he’s had a rough day at work. Even offering sex without him having to hint that he was in the mood.

This past privilage you received was permission to go to the grocery store and the mall alone to buy food and lingerie since Rin’s birthday was today and you wanted to surprise him.

In reality he was following you the whole time.

You wanted to buy some sweat bands for Rin since his hair can get in the way sometimes so you went inside a sports store and bumped into Atsumu. Your old classmate, the boy who was madly in love with you in highschool, but you were too blinded and head over heels for ‘tsundere’ Suna.

You didn’t want to talk to him, you know Rin would find out one way or another. So you just avoided some questions and answered with as few words as possible.

Then Atsumu tried being slick by putting his hand on the wall and leaning in with his face very close to yours, your back was pressed against the wall and you didn’t know what to do.

That was when Suna made a appearance by gripping his shoulder, Atsumu immediately turned and brightened when he saw his old teammate, “Sunarin!” “Tsumu.” He deadpanned. “What are you doing with my wife?” Suna immediately asked and your eyes widened just as big as Atsumu’s. “Holy shit my bad, I didn’t know she was married. I didn’t see a ring so I just tried to shoot my shot. But it didn’t seem like she was interested so that’s good. At least you know you have a beautiful and loyal wife.” Atsumu chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah I do.” Suna hummed and turned his gaze to you, you fake smiled and held your ‘husbands’ hand. “Well we should be going, nice meeting you Atsumu.” You said and tried to leave as fast as possible.

But Suna pulled you back, “How about you join us for dinner?” Your ‘husband’ smiled. “You sure?” Atsumu asked and Suna nodded. “Okay I’m in.” He said and followed you guys to your house.

Dinner was normal, you explained you were a stay at home ‘wife’ which pleased Suna, he’s trained you so well. After dinner Suna wanted to show Atsumu something in the basement or as Rin liked to call it his ‘man cave’ and that’s when you heard a scream. Out of fear for both of them you immediately ran down only to see Atsumu on the floor while Suna beat him with an old baseball bat. With each hit, the bat started turning into a maroon color, you screamed in horror and pulled Suna away by the torso asking what was wrong with him.

Suna turned so quick and pushed you against the wall, his bloody hand wrapped around your throat. “C-can’t brEaTh.” You wheezed as his grip tightened. “Go upstairs and put on the lingerie you bought. Come back down with the video camera.” He said and let go. You fell to the floor and coughed trying to get air. “YOU FUCKER HOW CAN YOU DO THAT TO YOUR WIFE!” Atsumu yelled. “Oh shut up.” Suna rolled his eyes and lifted the bat to break the setters other arm.

With tears streaming down you obeyed and began crawling up the stairs, you walked through the halls of your home, you passed the hallway mirror and saw the bloody hand print on your throat. You began to sob and quickly made your way to the bedroom to change. You already know what happens when Suna is angry and you’re not fast enough. When you successfully put on the lace material you try looking for the video camera but it’s nowhere to be seen. Rin likes recording your punishments, countless videos of you bloody and bruised, fucked into oblivion.

When you’re being a good girl he sadly has no reason to punish you, I mean he’s not a monster, right? So he goes to his man cave and pumps his cock to the sound of your cries, the sounds of your whimpers and moans. When he looks at the screen he sees your tear stained eyes and wishes you’d disobey a little more.

“Ten, nine, eight—“ Suna began counting loudly and you squealed in terror trying to find the video camera. But it was so hard when you were crying. When you finally found it you ran down the hall, tripping along the way, but successfully making it before he reached one.

“-two...wow that was quick.” Suna said with a smirk. “This is my birthday gift?” He asked as his head tilted and took in your delicious figure. You squirmed and fidgeted with your fingers. “Do..do you not like it..?” You asked. “Oh no honey, I love it. You look so beautiful. I’m just amazed at how beautiful you look in them. Come on, give me a twirl.” He motioned with his finger. You turned and wiped your eyes quickly before more tears streamed down.

“Oh baby don’t cry, you’re not in trouble. On the contrary you handled this fucker like a champ.” He chuckled with a praise. He lifted your chin with a finger and you looked into his eyes. “Do you love me?” He asked.

“Yes.” You replied instantly.

“Would you do anything for me?” He asked,

“Yes, of course.”

“So you’d kill for me?”

He said with a smirk and you felt your stomach drop.

︎ ❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

You couldn’t do it, Atsumu just looked so horrible. He was bleeding his face was bruised. He was standing with his wrists tied above his head. Suna tied it to one of the beams on top of the basement. It was perfect to hang someone.

“Y/N...just kill me please. Along my pulse. If you cut fast I won’t feel that much pain and I’ll be gone more quickly.” Atsumu instructed. Suna lifted the volleyball and threw it at his face, probably breaking his nose since you heard a crunch. “Don’t talk to her.” He said simply.

“We’re not leaving till he’s dead.” Suna shrugged and fixed the headband on his head that you bought him. You were cold, your feet hurt. The knife was clutched in your two shaking hands. You’ve been in this position for a good few hours, it was already passed midnight. “Come on babe I wanna see that lingerie drip with blood. That’s the best present you could give me.” Suna rested his chin on his arms.

But you stayed frozen, eventually Atsumu knocked out due to exhaustion and Suna grabbed an empty water bottle on the floor to piss in, no way in hell was he leaving you alone with him. He turned his back to you and that’s when you gripped the knife. You yelled running to him with your fist clenching the knife. You stabbed him right in the back but he didn’t flinch.

You gasped and moved your hand to notice it was a fake knife. The fake blade popped back out. How did you not notice? “You’ve been a bad girl. Haven’t you? Trying to kill your husband, the man that loves you.”

“You’re a devil.” You spat with gritted teeth. “I sure am, and I’m dragging you to hell with me.” He said growled and slapped you across the face. You face moved to the side and you held on to your cheek, he then grabbed you by the nape of your neck and turned you so your back hits his bare chest. “Hold this.” He instructs and places the handle of the knife in your palm, “Rin I can’t.” You sobbed. “Shut up.” He gritted and placed his hands over yours. The knife was pointing to Atsumu.

He slowly began pushing you to him but your feet planted onto the floor to stop. Sadly it didn’t do much thanks to Suna’s athletic build and before you knew it you were face to face with Atsumu. His chest heaved up and down quickly, his wrists were purple, fingers obviously broken. “I’m sorry Atsumu.” You apologized as Rin thrusted your arms to stab his stomach, the setters eyes widened at the pain and he saw your tears.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry but he bit his lip and tried to stay silent as you pulled the knife out and continued your assault on his body. He just hoped you somehow escape his old teammate and get the justice you deserve. This was the least he could do for the woman he loved.

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

🔪: ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ hope you enjoyed! Plz send an ask to be in my taglist

[plus-size-reader]

Out of His Mind

Henry Bowers x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1669 words

Warnings: language?

Summary: Henry has a crush. 

——————————————————————————————————

It should have come as no surprise to anyone that you were the way you were.

After all, living with Patrick your whole life meant that you figured it out or he would have probably smothered you with a pillow by now. It was no secret that Patrick was standoffish and violent, everyone in all of Derry knew that.

What they didn’t know was that he, in no way, rivalled your hatred of the entirety of the human race.

The two of you were clearly related through that alone, though that was about as far as the similarity went.

Where Patrick was a textbook psychopath, deriving joy from any form of suffering, you didn’t seem to find it in anything. You were just angry all the time.

As best he could tell, you always had a disgusted grimace on your beautiful face, keeping to yourself whenever possible, unless you had some venom to spit in Henry’s direction.

...And for whatever reason, you had him all twisted up inside.

It didn’t make any sense, seeing as Henry had never felt that way about anyone but whenever he was around you, he felt ill, in the best way.

It was like a spell had been cast on him, and it made him even more dumb than before. The worst part of all though, was that you somehow remained absolutely blind to it.

That, or you didn’t care.

For the longest time, he was sure that you hated him and maybe you still did. In any case, nothing could keep his stomach from doing cartwheels whenever you were together.

Together being a term used lightly.

Really, you only ever spent time with the ‘Bowers gang’ when you absolutely had to but that was more than enough for Henry to be sure.

There was just something about you.

...And he was determined to figure out what it was.

Today, Patrick offered to have the guys come over after school, suggesting they fuck around at the quarry for a while before hitting the town. Your parents weren’t going to be home, after all, so they agreed.

Which meant that as soon as Henry and the others entered your house, you knew about it. No one else had a key to the side door of the garage.

“What are you losers doing here?” you groaned, rolling your eyes from where you were sitting on the couch, watching bored as Belch chucked something at Vic, narrowly missing his head.

It brought a small smile to your face, which you were quick to force back down. Perhaps if it had actually met its target, you would have laughed.

Luckily, Belch’s aim was about as good as his grade in chemistry. “We thought we’d come spend time with you. s’that okay?” Henry started, noticing the way your eyes lingered on his for only a moment before you looked away.

You didn’t even bother to answer him, though you didn’t have much of a chance anyway before Patrick swung around the corner and lobed a coke can at your head.

“We’re going to the quarry, you wanna come or is that stick lodged too far up your ass?” he cackled, not even seeming to care one bit that the can could have burst all over the place.

Though, to be fair, you cared about as much when you tossed it right back at him, hitting the wall just behind him.

“You’re a fucker, Pat!” you growled, that mischievous glint in your eyes making it hard to tell if you were really upset with him or not.

It wasn’t until you stood from where you’d been sitting that it registered to Henry that you could potentially be coming with them. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but for some reason, it made his palms sweat.

You hadn’t come with them to the quarry for quite some time, and the five of you weren’t kids anymore.

“Let’s go. I’ll leave all your asses here” you barked, having apparently decided you’d be going before heading out the door, not bothering to wait for any of them.

Without missing a beat, all four boys followed, leaving Henry to bring up the back, his hands feverishly wiping at his jeans.

He tried to convince himself that this wasn’t going to be that big of a deal, and that there was no reason he should be nervous, but that wasn’t doing him much good.

Really, the more he tried to stop thinking about you, the more his mind snapped right back to you, sitting in the backseat.

Henry was trying his best to be casual in his admiration, watching in the right side mirror as you fiddled mindlessly with the fraying knees of Vic’s jean but if he wasn’t careful, he was going to get caught.

Honestly, Belch had already taken note of the way Henry studied you but chose to keep it to himself.

Pointing out something like that would not only subject him to Henry’s anger, but also yours and Patricks and that wasn’t something he was willing to deal with right now.

So, he turned up the music on the radio and kept driving down the road until he pulled up to the private confines of the woods around the quarry.

“Did you bring a bathing suit Squirt, or what?” Patrick asked, much too late to have actually been of help to anyone, going so far as to use that terrible nickname.

If looks could kill, he would have been dead already.

“No, I’m not stripping down in front of your pervy friends dipshit” you huffed, shooting Belch a wink from where he was looking at you from the rearview.

It was all in good fun of course, but mostly, it was just payback for Patrick being Patrick.

“Yeah right, like any of these guys would wanna touch you with a ten foot pole” your brother jabbed, your full on sibling bickering filling the backseat in a matter of minutes.

Really, it was just a number of thinly veiled threats and insulting one another's mother even though she was the same woman. Neither of you cared for technicalities.

Patrick was a bitch and you only wanted to make sure he knew that about himself.

~

That was all that happened from the time Belch parked the trans am to the time when Patrick and the others were all diving off that cliff into the water below.

You chose to remain perched on a rock, letting what little sun you could tolerate to bathe your skin. It wasn’t until you heard a twig snap behind you that you perked up, taking notice to the fact that someone was clearly out here. As best you knew, the guys were still in the lake.

Still, you wouldn’t have put it past your shithead brother to try and toss you over the side while you were too relaxed to notice.

Though, when you actually turned around, it wasn’t Patrick standing where the sound had come from. It was Henry.

“What are you doing? Sneaking around like a creeper” you asked, rolling your eyes before leaning back down against the rocks. You would never admit it, but you were most comfortable around Henry.

He was a no shit kind of guy, which you could respect, but he wasn’t downright vile like your hellspawn sibling was. He was a good middle ground and you could respect that.

Not that you wanted him watching you from the woods in any case.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Henry started, watching you crack one eye open slightly to look at him, silently prompting him to continue.

You had never had patience for idle small talk. If he had something to say, he could do so without wasting precious seconds of your life.

“Without the other guys” he clarified, briefly waiting for you to point out that it was a given before punching him so hard in the bicep with those rings you wore that he’d have to leave.

...But that never came.

You just sat there, bathing in the sun like a cold blooded predator, waiting for him to get on with it.

Henry had to swallow thickly before speaking, taking in how peaceful and gentle you looked when you were relaxed. He assumed it was a Hockstetter thing, because Pat damn near slept like a baby.

The whole lot of you were sneaky bastards though, so he didn’t trust it for a second.

“You wanna see a movie sometime? Or get a burger? Just us” he asked, earning a snort from you immediately though you stopped laughing as soon as you saw him.

The sight you opened your eyes to was almost alarming.

Henry, shit-talking, knife slinging Henry Bowers, looked like a scared little puppy. You had never seen him anxious or worried before but even you didn’t have it in your heart to tease him.

He was being serious.

“Like a date?” you clarified, genuinely confused for a second. Why would Henry want to go out with you? By all accounts, you were personality deficient, and that was a badge of honor you wore proudly.

...But no one in their right mind would sign up for that willingly.

Maybe that was the whole point though, maybe that was what it was about Henry that you found so strangely endearing. He was out of his damn mind.

When he nodded, you made up your mind.

He was absolutely deranged, fully crazy, but you were just about the same. “Sure, I’ll let you buy me a milkshake some time” you shrugged, closing your eyes again as your way of shooing him away.

You both knew that if he didn’t get back to his friends, they’d come looking for him and whatever he had going on, that wasn’t a good look.

Not that he cared right now.

Henry got the date, and you didn’t even spit on him when he asked. By all accounts, that was a success in his mind.

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

part 7

masterlist 

Kim Namjoon. That was the name of the devil. This was the information that they had wanted her to find. How ironic that she had it only after it was too late to do anything with it. She wanted nothing more than to call the police force and scream the information to the high heavens, to tell them where she was, who he was. More than that she wanted to go home. She wished she had never come her at all.

“At least it’s better than RM.” She huffed bitterly under her breath wrapping her arms around herself in her some semblance of comfort although it really wasn’t all that comforting.

“You should get used to it, jagi.” He hummed looking quite pleased with himself. “You are the lady of the house now.”

Her head shot up at that gazing at him with eyes wide and fearful. “The what?” she whispered hoping she had misheard him.

“The lady of the house.” He repeated smiling at her as though there was nothing wrong with the current situation. She could name a hundred things that were wrong with the situation she had found herself in. Her chief concern was RM, Kim Namjoon. “That is what the staff have been referring to you as.” He explained picking up his cup to sip at his tea.

Her brow furrowed in thought thinking back to her interactions with Miss In. “Bu-in.” she murmured contemplatively. “Is that what that means?” she nearly shrieked jumping up from her seat in a panic.

“Sit down, jagi.” He barked giving her a stern look. “You’re still recovering. All this upset isn’t good for you. Drink your tea.”

She glared at him wanting nothing more than to launch the tea cup at his head, but thought better of it choosing instead to sit down and glare at him from her seat. How could he go from barking at her to cooing over her health in less than a minute? She had called him insane before, but maybe he actually was.

“The tea, jagiya.” He reminded elegantly motioning towards the cup she had left sitting on the coffee table untouched since it had first been handed to her. “It’ll make you feel better.” He encouraged as though he had any right to care about her wellbeing when he was the one who had put her in this mess.

“Don’t act like you care.” She scoffed harshly.

“I care very much what happens to you.” He refuted taking another sip of his tea, infuriatingly calm.

Her eyes narrowed as she hissed at him. “Bullshit. You don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself.”

A frown marred his features pulling down the corners of his mouth as his eyes lost their warmth and sharpened back into the cold calculating expression she was used to. “I don’t appreciate your tone, jagi.” He tutted shaking his head slowly as though he was disappointed in her. “You’ve already tested my patience once today. Let’s not do it again.”

The warning was clear. Behave or suffer the consequences. So she picked up the cup and took a sip allowing the ginger tea to warm her from the inside out and settle her rolling stomach.

“I forgave your lapse of judgement earlier, but I won’t allow such disrespect in my house, Y/N.” his entire body radiated dominance as he spoke, watching her with those cold dark eyes. “There are rules here, even for the lady of the house.”

“I’m not the lady of this or any house.” She hissed through gritted teeth allowing the anger to seep into her tone. “I’m not your god damn wife.”

He smiled. She hated that smile. Nothing good ever followed it. It was cold and cruel, predatory in nature. “You and I both know that in this world the legal trivialities don’t matter. If I’ve claimed you as my woman, then by the laws of our world, you are as good as my wife. No one can touch you here.”

“Except for you.”

“Except for me.” He agreed pleased by her understanding of her place in this new twisted world he had thrown her into. “Let’s go over the rules shall we, jagi?” His tone was suddenly cheery giving her whiplash. “Unfortunately your little stunt will have consequences.” He tutted though they both knew he didn’t have any real remorse for anything he was about to do. “I can’t have you throwing yourself out windows or causing harm to yourself or the staff. Until you’ve adjusted you’ll be confined to these rooms.” He announced watching with a gleam in his eye as she stiffened. “They were prepared with you in mind, jagi.”

She couldn’t stop herself from scoffing. “I don’t give a flying fuck who you prepared the rooms for.”

“Language!” he barked shooting her a harsh glare. “I will not have my wife swearing.”

“I’m not your wife!” she shrieked gripping the tea cup tightly in her hands debating whether or not it would be worth it to chuck the porcelain at his head.  The look on his face told her it wouldn’t be. As satisfying as it would be, she couldn’t afford to incur his wrath any more than she had in the past few hours.

“Y/N.” She didn’t like that tone. She didn’t like how patronizing it was. “Watch your tone.” He warned. “You are the lady of this house now, but I am still its master. If you behave I can give you a very good life, Y/N. And if you don’t I can make your life very miserable.” It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. “Now be a good girl and listen to what I tell you.” God how she wanted to slap the smirk right off his face.

She clenched her jaw but made no move to do or say anything else. “Until you can be trusted not to be a danger to yourself or others you will remain here. The staff is, of course, at your disposal, but they will not help any of you with any ill-conceived escape attempts. They are nothing if not loyal to this house.” She nodded slowly, and he seemed content that she understood and was listening. “Once I’m satisfied that you’ve… adjusted, you’ll be allowed free reign of the house and the gardens. You will not be allowed outside the estate without my supervision, though I suspect you won’t be ready for that privilege for a long time.”

The look he sent her was pitying, and it did nothing but make her skin crawl. They both knew that he held no pity for her. He was more than pleased to have her settled within the confines of the estate. Marcus had been a controlling and vile man, but he had never actually locked her away from the world. This was a new form of torture even for her.

“You are a rare bird, and I enjoy your fire, but I will not condone the same behavior I saw today. You will not swear. You will behave in a way that befits the lady of this house. And you will never lie to me. Do you understand me, jagiya?” He asked leveling her with a hard stare. “I’ve already told you that any more of your ill-conceived attempts at freedom will result in punishment. Oh!” He paused as though a thought had just come into his head. “The windows. I’ll be having them sealed until sure you won’t try to throw yourself out of them again. I’d prefer not to put bars on them, but I will if I have to.” He warned, and she knew he meant it. No more window themed escapes for her.

“Don’t fret, jagi.” He cooed getting up and strolling around the coffee table to kneel in front of taking her hands in both of his. His hands dwarfed hers. “You’ll be well taken care of here. I even have a gift for you.”

“What more could you possibly do to me?” She spat trying to pull her hands away from his, but his grip tightened preventing her from doing so.

“I haven’t done anything yet, jagi.” There was that smile again. It would have been such a warm expression if only it could reach his eyes, but those remained cold and hard. “I have no intentions of hurting you.”  

“I doubt that very much.” She huffed trying once more to pull her hands from his though the effort was futile.

He took one of his hands away to reach for something on the coffee table, a little black box that had previously escaped her notice, and her eyes widened at the sight of it. The box was opened to reveal a ring nestled against the velvet. It was large and glinted wickedly in the light. The center stone rested proudly in a nest of smaller diamonds that ringed it in sharp contrast all tied together in a silver band. The black diamond shimmering in the middle reminded her rather sickeningly of his eyes. They were both dark and cold.

“What is this for?” She asked eyes the piece of jewelry suspiciously. “Please… please don’t tell me this is meant to be a wedding ring.”

He smiled at her again, this time the expression reached his eyes, and she wasn’t sure which expression was worse. The cold hollow smiles seemed to suit him. They were unnerving and dangerous, but they suited him. This smile held a genuine fondness to it that was far more disconcerting. It suggested that somewhere in that twisted head he actually cared for her, and that was far more terrifying than any anger he could show her.

“Of all the jewelry I plan to give you, jagi, this is the most important.” He explained carefully, removing the ring from its box and taking her limp left hand in his. “This ring is never to leave your finger.” He slipped the offending jewelry onto her finger keeping her hand tucked between both of his. “And I do mean never, Y/N. You won’t like the consequences of if it does.”

“What are the consequences?” She whispered her eyes transfixed on the stone that now weighed down her finger.

He hummed contemplatively reaching up a hand to tilt her chin up so that she was looking at him. That retched smile was still there accompanied by those damned dimples. “I won’t hurt you, Y/N. I’m not a man who takes pleasure in beating his woman like some savage, but I have other ways of punishing you, rest assured. I went to a lot of trouble to bring you here. I won’t have you harmed while you’re under my care.”

She huffed out a laugh bordering on the hysteric as she moved her head away from his hand. “I’m sure the great RM had so much trouble kidnapping one foreign girl.”

“You will call me Namjoon, never RM, not to you.” The correction was emphatic as though it offended him to hear her call him by that name any longer. “You are after all for all intents and purposes, Mrs. Kim.”

“No.” The word came out as a whisper. She shot up from her seat breaking away from him to pace in front of the fireplace ignoring the nausea and light headedness the sudden motion caused.  “No!” She was more frantic now. “You can’t… you can’t…” She had stopped pacing a rush of dizziness going through her causing her to lean on the fireplace for support as she swayed on her feet.

“Y/N.” Concern colored his features as he slowly rose to his feet. “Y/N, come sit down.” He held out a hand to her trying to convince her to come back to the sofa.

“You can’t just… just…”

He watched horrified as the color drained from her face, her eyes wide, blinking in an attempt to banish the black dots that spotted her vision. And in the next moment she dropped crumpling like a rag doll as she did.

part 8

[lyukablau]

Kunikida helping his s/o who suffer from self harm.

TRIGGERS WARNING: cutting behavior, blood, slight angst and grammar errors.

Type: Scenarios, fluff and comfort.

A/N: Hi it's Lyuka! This is the second scenario I wrote, I hope it doing fine! Please make sure you see the warning first and avoid the triggers for your own safety! You have been warned.

Word count: 1.7k

Every morning you wake up, you keep wondering how come you are still alive, after all the trauma you have? How come he still stays by your side, even though you are broken inside?

Y/N woke up in an empty bed, cold bedroom, and silent house. You feel like the world has reached its end and now you are alone.

You miss him, again. Although you guys meet each other every day and a couple are you, you always feel like he is not by your side anymore.

Not good, you need to see him right now. But first, you have to clean your dried bloody wrist, you can’t let him see that.

You get out of bed, go to the bathroom and do your morning routine. You look at yourself in the mirror, eyes puffy, tired face and exhausted look. Maybe you should take a day off and sleep because last night you couldn’t. You consider that you should stay at home today, or ignore the pain and go to work like usual.

That’s it. You should rest and do your best tomorrow, you are not sure if you can work properly today.

Y/N go back to bed and shut the curtains, put the blanket on your body and close your eyes. Your wrist is still itching, and you don’t have the urge to place the band-aids on them, let say that you can’t, you want to but you can’t. All you must do right now is call the resident, told him that you feel sick and can’t go to the agency today.

When the resident told you to take care and allowed you to have a day off, you sigh in relief and close your eyes immediately, the long sleep is all you need after a rough battle with your mind last night.

“Y/N-chan couldn’t go to work today? Oh no! Then who would I commit double suicide with?”

“All you can think is just that?”

“Of course I’m curious too, maybe she caught a cold and has a high fever right now. Not good, I need to call her!”

“Stop right there you wasting-bandage machine. You have work, don’t you remember?”

“All right. I just want to remind you to check up on her, she’s your woman, right? Kunikida-kun”

“I know that much, so stop talking and do your work now, Dazai”

Dazai smiles and sits at his desk, puts on his headphones and leans his back on the chair.

Kunikida wondered why you didn’t call him, saying that you can’t go to the agency today. Maybe you are exhausted because of the fever and you forgot to do it, he will call you after this paperwork is done.

You woke up again, in the same bed, the same bedroom. It’s already time for lunch but you are too tired to get up and find something to eat, both physically and mentally. You opened your eyes and stared at the curtains, thinking about last night and the images of you cutting your wrist like it wasn’t a big deal. You have already gotten used to it for a long time.

A long time? When did it start? You have been in this state for how long? A month? A year? Or ten years? You don’t remember.

You get your heavy head up, tiredly go to the bathroom and again, you see yourself in the mirror.

“Stop looking at me”

You said toward the mirror, such a nonsense sentence. You keep staring at your own eyes reflected in the mirror, see how disgusting you have been and how much you fucked up. You can’t stand it anymore, you hit your knuckles to the wall next to you, strong and hard enough to make your hand bleed.

Again, it’s coming to you.

The feeling of not doing anything good, the feeling of failure and disappointment about yourself. You run out of the bathroom, rush to your desk in the bedroom and grab the paper knife and start cutting.

But the ringtone from your phone stops you after one deep cut.

It’s him.

You hesitated to pick up, but you feel helpless right now. You need him, for a very long time, you feel the need for someone to help you.

You pick up, the tear begins to fill your eyes and drop on the floor. Your chest feels heavy and hurt so much that you can’t answer his question.

“Y/N, are you okay? Answer me please”

“Doppo…”

“What’s wrong?”

The emotions are so strong that you can’t bear them, this is the first time you have such a feeling like this. Your heart is beating so fast that you can’t breathe properly. Before you could say something to him, the darkness covers your sight, and you can’t hear anything else.

“Y/N? Y/N!”

Kunikida was completely in panic and worry, he was sure that you collapsed during the call. Were you that tired? He calls Dazai, tells that man everything just happened and helps him to tell the resident that he has to go to Y/N place right now. Dazai seems to know everything and just says okay. Kunikida grabs his stuff and leaves the agency in a rush.

He ran to your house, remember that you have allowed him to keep a spare key to your front door. Kunikida cursed to himself when he struggled to open the door.

Kunikida dashes in to see the dark and cold room, your house always like this? He takes off his shoes and finds you laying on the bedroom floor, wrist bleeding and unmoved.

“Y/N!”

He holds you in his arm carefully, his eyes seek the instrument which damaged you and he sees the paper-knife. Kunikida’s eyes were wide open because he understood what just happened, that you didn’t have a fever.

Kunikida carries you to your living room, puts you on the couch and goes to the bathroom to grab a towel. His eyes caught the bloodstains on the wall next to the sink and it didn’t take so long for him to recognize where that had come from.

He drenches the towel and comes back to you laying on the couch, still unconscious. Kunikida kneels, grabs your left arm and starts washing the blood around the cut. After that, he goes to the first cabinet on the right side of the kitchen, takes out the first-aid kit, and now he knows why you tell him where the first-aid kit is and why you allowed him to have a spare key.

Kunikida was patching you up carefully and silently, he saw the other cut which had started to heal up slowly, he counted, its ten cuts in total.

So there were ten times you needed him but he wasn’t there.

Kunikida lifted his head when he saw you shifting. You open your eyes tiredly and almost jump out of the couch when you see him kneel next to you.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“What happened…?”

“You collapsed while we were on the call, so I came here to check on you”.

You are confused a bit and try to remember the time before you fainted, then you scare again.

Now Kunikida knows everything, you can’t hide it anymore. He will leave you, he will reject you and he will break up with you, and you will be alone again.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Am I not trustful enough?”

“Of course not! You are the person that the entire agency can trust, and so am I. I was so happy that a gentle and strong man like you is my boyfriend, but… If I tell you, I won’t be your ideal woman anymore”

The last sentence stabs Kunikida unemotionally, he didn’t think you would think that way. Both of you stay silent for a while until Kunikida wraps his arm around your shaking body, his face in the crook of your neck and hugs you tightly. You can tell that he is crying.

“Please don’t do that again. I love you so much to see you doing this to yourself, I can’t lose my ideal woman, I can’t lose you”

“How come? Now I’m completely a mess! Nobody in this damn world can love a person with mental illness, especially the idealist you are. I can’t ruin your life any further, I don’t want to hurt you because of my goddamn problems!”

Kunikida silent. He keeps hugging you and even tightens the hug, but you insist. You keep pushing him away, not because you don’t love him, but you see how disgusting and pathetic you are.

You don’t deserve him.

“Y/N, you are my ideal woman, no matter how you reject yourself, you are still my woman. I’m not gonna leave you, and I will prove to you that a person with mental illness can be loved. Together, we can get through this, if you allowed me to help you”

Kunikida talking slowly and calmly. It is clear that this is not written in his notebook, but he will fix it with you and he won’t leave you, he loves you so much to do it.

Your heart sink even deeper into the way Kunikida comforted you. You hug him back and crying like a child, Kunikida strokes your hair and rubs your back soothingly, kiss your face randomly.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You did a great job, you were so brave and strong. I’m proud of you for living until today, you don’t have to suffer by yourself anymore”

You recognized the reason for living and stop cutting after crying a while. If you have gone, your boyfriend will be hurt and you will break his ideals, and he will be hurt even more.

You need him, and so he is.

“Did you eat something?”

“No, I haven’t eaten anything”

“Can I borrow your kitchen? I’ll make some food for both of us”

“Let me help-”

“Leave it to me, love. It won’t take long, now go wash your face then we can have lunch together”

“Okay”

You hug Kunikida again, his scent calms you down and his strong arms make you feel safe and warm. Just thinking you will eat lunch with your boyfriend, the fear and loneliness vanish away from your mind.

The pain on your wrist no longer bothering you.

[the-avengers-ate-my-tongue]

Scars (Smut)

Scars

Summary: You hadn't seen Will ever since the day he left you to chase Hannibal in Florence, finding out after a while that he got married to someone else. But with the murders of the tooth fairy, Jack asked him to come back to help, and he couldn't stay away anymore, showing up for a visit. Will the old scars of your heart burst open in new wounds or heal completely?

Pairing: Will Graham x reader

Warnings: SMUT, angst, swearing, spoilers from season 3.

Word count: 3.381

A/n: this is the first smut I write in English, it's not my first language, so I hope it's alright. Any mistakes or anything, just let me know. This is another one with my boi Will, I just love him so much AAAAAA

As I read The Wuthering Heights for the hundredth time sitting in the living room, I heard someone ring the doorbell. I sighed, staring at the clock. It was still early. The person I was expecting would just come in, after all, Alana was a close friend and she knew she was allowed to do so. I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't expecting anybody else.

My dog, Sally, started to bark thunderously, sniffing under the door. I closed the book lethargicly, rolling my eyes as I got up the couch in a lazy mood, walking to the door and opening without asking who was outside, realizing perhaps too soon it was a mistake.

Will Graham stared at me, a light smile in his handsome face that didn't reach his eyes. I felt like something was twitching my stomach, and probably turned albescent. I hadn't seen him in over three years. Alana warned me he was back in town to work on the tooth fairy's case, but I didn't think he would stop by for a visit. Not after so long. 

"Good to see you, Y/n." He tried, obtaining no response of mine. "I… I was just around the neighborhood and I wanted to see you. It's been a while."

"Who gave you my address?" I retorted, probably sounding more hostile than I intended.  He stepped back, scratching the back of his neck, probably already regretting the impulsive idea. 

"Jack."

"Of course he did. What else did he tell you?"

"Was there anything else he should've told me?" I searched his face for any sign of emotions, but didn't get anything that could tell me what he was feeling. The old Will was someone I could always read, no matter what. After Hannibal came along, he just started to show less and less emotions, till his face became a cold mask, his deep eyes empty, opaque. I missed the sweet, caring Will. 

I was just standing there, silent. Sally found some space between my legs and managed to get out the house, launching at Will, wagging her tail and trying to get close enough of his ears so she could lick them. Will laughed lightly, crouching down to pet her. 

"Who's this?" He asked, scratching behind her ears. I crossed my arms, I gave everything to that dog, undying love, a bed, high quality food, and now she backstabs me. 

"That's Sally. She's a stray I took in one year and a half ago. Sally, sweetheart, come inside." I whistled once and she obeyed, running through my legs again. I sighed, stepping away from the door so he could come in. Maybe he wouldn't stay for long if I just let him in. He hesitated, but entered, passing through me. I could smell the air as he passed, he still used the same aftershave. That hurt even more, and I could feel my eyes watering a little. Why did he have to come? Why was he here? What does he want? 

I tried to hide it, opening the kitchen door so Sally could play in the backyard, then walking to the sideboard where I kept whisky.

"Would you like some?" I inquired, still not feeling safe enough to face him. "I'm pouring myself one."

"Sure. Please. Neat." He replied, and I could feel his eyes on me, watching every single movement I made. That made my hands tremble a bit, and I cursed in a whisper when I spilled a little bit of the drink. So fucking clumsy. 

I finally faced him when I felt my eyes get dryer, smiling lightly as I gave him the glass of whisky, neat. Our fingers touched a bit and I sat beside him, albeit a little far, taking a long sip of my glass. We stayed like that for a few minutes, two strangers that used to know each other, love each other. My eyes traveled through his face and I distinguished some new scars, probably from the great encounter with Hannibal Lecter and Mason Verger​ a few years ago. I remembered the way I used to kiss every single scar he had, I loved every part of Will, his scars were part of his story, part of who he was. 

He lowered his eyes for a moment, smiling as he saw the book standing on the coffee table.

"Is it still your favorite? Wuthering Heights." He grabbed the book, opening the first page. There was the name I didn't use anymore. Y/n Graham. He gave me that edition as a Christmas gift a long time ago, and I couldn't get rid of it, fantasizing that after such a long time, I could still feel Will's scent in it. 

"Undoubtedly. Every time I read it it's like the first. Except maybe now it's even more bitter." I avoided facing him, staring at the book, suddenly feeling pretty silly. He didn't ask. He knew why. 

"I suppose Heathcliff's still your favorite character."

"Now more than even, guess I finally understand his suffering." I regretted sounding so harsh, but it was said now. Will clenched his jaw.

"So you're saying I'm your Catherine?"

"I don't know. Am I?" I teased, hugging my body protectively. "Why are you here, Will? Why did you have to come? To torment me? You left three years ago after I begged you to stay, you just had to go after Hannibal, pursue your hunt. I allowed you to go, but I couldn't be there when you returned. I didn't even know you would return alive or if I would see a miserable Jack Crawford knocking on my door with grief in his face. I wouldn't bear it. So I left, but I kept expecting you to come find me if you ever got back. Then, Hannibal was finally arrested. I thought it was finally over, but you never came. You left again, and a while later I heard…"

My eyes traveled through his hands and I saw it. The wedding ring. That hurt so much I finally felt tears wetting my face, and dismissed them quickly with one hand.

"So it is true. You did get married." My voice sounded venomous, sharp as a knife. "Lucky girl. We didn't even get to that stage. Engagement was the maximum."

He was silent, allowing me to vent. As I haven't done that a lot with Alana already. His eyes were finally wet, finally some emotion on his face. That handsome face. That face I would never get tired of. I wanted to kiss them away, hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but it wouldn't. That teacup would never gather itself up again. We were two broken souls. 

"I thought you wouldn't want me anymore. I wasn't the man you once met, the man you fell for, I was no longer good for you, if I ever have been. Hannibal changed me in ways you could never understand, ways even I don't understand."

"Hannibal changed all of us. Like a poison ivy that found its way into our cores and grew roots there. I can still feel his damage inside me, like… A cancer. It spreads. It tastes like metal at the tip of my tongue. I saw his face in my dreams for a very long time after you left. I still see him sometimes, not necessarily in my dreams…" I stopped talking as he grabbed my hand, caressing the palm with his thumb. I realized how much I missed his hands. They were a little rough due to how much he worked with them, but it never bothered me. It was ridiculous how much he could still affect me with a single touch, a look. 

"I wanted to start over. Leave everything behind. I wanted to… Flee from that darkness that nested me. But it followed me, as it does wherever I go. I wanted someone pure, so it could contain it, or even diminish it. But you, Y/n… You never left my mind. I could never suppress you." He raised his hand, touching my cheek with cold, pale fingers. That touch made me close my eyes, his voice working like a balsam inside of me. I sighed, totally giving in. 

Will got closer, his lips touching mine with such delicacy. I touched his hair, grabbing some on the back of his neck, pulling it lightly. That made him release a low groan, as the kiss started to get deeper. I moved my body, wanting to stay as close to him as the laws of physics allowed, and when I felt his tongue touch mine, fireworks eclode from my chest, my heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's. 

I still loved him, of course I did. I never stopped. All the bitterness he left with his departure started to boil on my chest, becoming something else, something I couldn't figure out yet. His lips moved from mine to my neck, and I moaned a little louder, sinking my nails on his shoulders. One of his hands moved to my thigh and I allowed myself to lie down on the couch, pulling him with me. He lifted my leg and I embraced his waist with them, feelings mixtured inside my chest. That was wrong, he was a married man now. He had a wife waiting for him back home. 

But, for a moment while he stared at me, our foreheads glued together, I saw my Will in his eyes. I saw the Will I first met, the socially awkward man Alana introduced me years ago and couldn't even stare me in the eyes, the kind, caring man I once knew. One single tear fell from his eye, and I knew he was probably conflicted as well. I kissed it away, kissing his lips again, a deep, slow kiss that made my insides chiver. I needed him so much. Even if it was just one time. Just for today. I needed that kind of closure.

I unbottoned his shirt, sinking my fingers into the skin of his biceps. He threw it on the floor, going for my clothes, and I thanked myself mentally for a moment for wearing a dress. He'd seen it before, he'd taken it off many times. He lifted the piece of clothing above my head and I threw it away gladly, kissing his neck while opening his pants. He kicked off his shoes, doing the same with the pants and underwear as I took off my bra. He took a while to stare at my body, his pupils so dilated with lust his eyes were almost completely black.

"No one looks at me the way you do." I said, noticing I haven't heard that tone in my voice for a very long time. 

He pulled my panties off and rested his hips on mine, shutting his eyes as he slipped slowly inside of me. I let out a low gasp, trying to stabilize my breathing. Will hid his face on my neck and I could feel his hot breathing and the light scratches of his beard. Still slowly, he started to move inside me, thrusting back and forth. I bit my bottom lip as I tried to suppress a groan, and one of his hands grabbed my breast, his thumb stimulating the nipple. Will knew all my "buttons". Where to push, where to hold, so I could melt in his hands. 

He started to thrust faster and faster, and I could feel the familiar feeling growing at the bottom of my stomach. A few more minutes and I lifted my head up, shutting my eyes as the pleasure started to grow.

"No." Will said almost in a whisper, pulling my chin down. "Let me see your face. I need it." 

I stared at him while we both climaxed, a loud cry leaving my lips and Will's almost louder groan echoing through my ears. He dropped his body on mine, both of us covered in sweat and bodily fluids. We stayed that way until we could breathe normally again, his head on my chest and my fingers playing with his hair.

I wanted to say so many things. How much I loved him. How much I wanted him to stay. How much I've missed him. But he knew. He always knew. After that, we showered together to get rid of the sweat, and even then we couldn't stay away from each other. He hugged me while the water washed our body, kissing sometimes my lips, sometimes my forehead, my neck, my shoulder. I kissed every single one of his scars, as I used to do. I thought I'd seen tears on his face, but it might have been the water pouring from the shower. 

After we finished the shower, he got dressed and I put on a robe, my hair wetting the silk. Will took my face in his hands, kissing my lips with tenderness. I wanted to ask him to stay. He knew that. I wanted him to leave before I made a fool of myself.

He was still holding my face when the door suddenly opened and I pushed him away quickly.

Alana entered, looking from Will to me, and I knew I would get scolded later for that. She noticed, always cunning. 

"Well, just look what the cat dragged in." She said with sarcasm, the door still open. "Hi, Will. Long time no see."

"Alana." He said, seeming surprised. She didn't have time to answer, though. Her son, Morgan, entered the house accompanied by my little world.

"Mommy!" The dark haired child ran to me, bringing a smile to my face as I crouched down to hug him.

"My beautiful boy! Did you have fun at the zoo?" I asked, forgetting about Will's presence for a while. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble, Alana. Henry, did you behave?"

"Mommy, we saw a lion! He roared, and then we saw the giraffes, and the tiger…"

"Look at you dodging my question! Very canny." I laughed, hugging him again.

"He always behaves, you know that. He's a good kid." Alana answered, but she wasn't looking at me. She was staring directly at Will.

I looked at him. His eyes were on Henry, he seemed shocked, astonished. 

"I'll be on my way, then. I'll call you later." She said almost like a threat, making me smile.

"Okay. Bye, Morgan. Send my regards to Margot, Alana, and come to dinner at the end of the week."

"Will do. See you around, Will." She closed the door behind her, leaving me with the two people I loved the most. 

"Henry, this is Will. He's an old friend of mommy's. Won't you say hello?" I brought him closer to Will, and he got down on his knees, his eyes wet. 

"Hi, Henry." He greeted, smiling with joy. Real joy. I smiled back, caressing Henry's hair. "It's nice meeting you."

"Hi." He replied with shyness, hiding behind my body. That made me laugh lightly.

"Baby, why don't you go upstairs and draw a picture of that lion you saw? How about that?" I asked him, kissing the top of his head.

"Okay, mommy." He started to climb up the stairs as Will still stared at him, seeming amazed. 

"Is he… Is he…" Will tried to formulate his words, emotion breaking his voice.

"Yes. He's yours. Not difficult to notice, right? He looks just like you." I replied, wiping the tears away. "I found out I was pregnant a few days after you left. When you came back and Hannibal was arrested, I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want you to stick with me just because of the baby, so I just… Didn't. He was about a year old when I found out you got married. Alana is his godmother, she helped me so much. She and Margot. He's just a little younger than their son, Morgan, they're best friends. Henry's very smart. He's a joyful child. He's kind, caring to others. He reminds me of you all the time. He's my biggest accomplishment."

Will's face was blushed from crying, but he smiled through the tears, cleaning his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Mommy!" Henry called from the top of the stairs, crayons on his hands. "Can I show Hannibal the drawing?"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I grimaced, feeling Will's gaze on me. He wasn't supposed to find out that way, I didn't even have the time to tell him slowly so I could try to explain what made no sense. 

"Ahn… Sure, honey. Sure. If you want. Now go to your room for a bit, okay? Mommy will see you in a minute, and then you can show me the drawing." I waited until he entered the room, hearing the door shut. I turned myself to Will.

"Did I hear it right? Hannibal?" Will raised his voice a little and I gestured him to keep his voice down. "Hannibal has seen the kid? You're taking him to see Hannibal?" 

"I know how it sounds, just let me explain…" I asked, noticing the change in his eyes. They were once again cold, but sharp. He was angry. 

"How do you explain this? Y/n? Have you lost your mind?"

"Yes! Yes, I fucking have! I lost my mind when you left, goddamnit!" I screamed, covering my mouth, hoping Henry would not come out of his bedroom. "Hannibal was the last link I had with you. So I sought comfort with the only one who would understand what was like to lose you. Because no one fucking did. Even Alana couldn't help me. So yes, I turned to Hannibal. Because he knows what's like to love you, to ache for you. And you don't get to judge me for that."

Will's eyes were wide, like he couldn't believe what I was saying. 

"Besides…" I sniffed, rubbing my face with my hands "Hannibal cares for him. I know it. And Henry just adores him, Will, you should see…"

"My God, listen to what you're saying, Y/n! Listen to yourself!" He grabbed my face with his hands a little roughly, making me hold his wrists. "He's a killer. He's a cold killer. Can't you see how dangerous it is?"

"Well, we're all fucking killers!" I pushed him away, breathing hard. "Or have you forgotten about it? The night we killed Randall Tier? You really think that wouldn't stain me? Or maybe you do, and that's why you married another woman, with all her purity, because you couldn't bear to see how much you and Hannibal have broken me!" 

He kept staring at me with that look in his eyes, the cold, sharp look that made me shiver. For a moment, I felt the danger of him trying to take my kid away. Would he even consider that? No. No one would take my child away from me. He was mine. 

"This was a bad idea, I should've never allowed you to come inside. Please, leave." I asked, pointing to the door.

He stayed put.

"Will, you better leave. Now. I'm warning you." I stepped away from him, but he pulled me closer, hugging me tightly. I hid my face in his chest, sobbing, hitting him weakly on the shoulders with my fists. "Just go, please. Just go."

"We'll figure it out. Everything will be fine." He kissed me for the last time, letting me go. I knew he would be back. He stared at me once more, and finally left, closing the door behind me. 

"Mommy, why are you crying?" I heard Henry's voice and turned to look at him coming down the stairs, kneeling to hug him. "Please mommy, don't cry!"

"It's okay, baby. Mommy is fine. Everything will be okay. How about a nice bath before we go see Hannibal, uh? Let's go."

"With bubbles?" He asked, clapping in joy. I smiled back to him, caressing his hair.

"With bubbles. Lots of bubbles." I kissed the top of his head and rushed him to the bathroom, an uneasy feeling pumping on my chest. I knew that wouldn't be the last time I saw Will. He would be back. Yes, he would. 

[snowpeawritings]

oh hear is a fun scenario Kill la kill Ryuko's and satsuki reaction to there male S/o saving them whiles wearing senketsu / junketsu (yep in the activated forms) and their male S/o looked hot whiles wearing them

Reader is male

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Swearing, suggested sexual content, diverging from canon events, slight gore, blood tw, slut as an insult is used once

❄ Snowpea’s words: THIS REQUEST SOUNDS SO FUNNY BUT I LOVE IT SDFDSFLH

| Ryuko Matoi |

God, why did anyone allow students to have military-grade weapons? Carrying Senketsu in your arms, you hurried across the broken debris of the school as you tried to find some semblance of another human person. Goddammit, of all days that a random Satsuki-lackey could attack, why on a day where you had to submit files for the teachers? Sometimes you curse yourself for being a class president. But you had to hurry. It was your fault that your girlfriend is practically defenseless without Senketsu. God, why would you reassure her that she didn’t need Senketsu when you two are in the lair of your enemies? Why are you such a bad boyfriend? Feeling a tug on your arms, you looked down to see Senketsu’s only eye looking annoyed. You raised your eyebrow, only to wonder if you were monologuing your self-hatred on being a bad boyfriend. You stretched his fabric, glaring at the eye on the collar. “Can it! I’m very stressful right now!” Jumping on a concrete ledge, you carried yourself up and scanned the area with the leverage. This is was left of the cafeteria, you recalled, you were sure you saw Ryuko running in here as soon as the rando attacked. A tug from your arms and soon Senketsu was pointing at a certain direction. Your eyes widened, looking at where he was pointing and you felt your heart jump out of your throat. Her battered body slumped against the counter, looking so foreign when you were so used to her having less clothes on when she’s injured. ... That came out wrong but regardless, you hurried to her. Senketsu already extending his sleeves just so he could reach her but a giant force stopped you in your tracks. Skidding your feet on the ground, you nearly stopped in front of a giant syringe. It’s eerie-looking liquid made you squirm as you stepped back. Looking back, you gasped at the skimpy nurse outfit the assistant student was wearing. You recognized her as one of the student assistants that helped the nurse when she was out of commission but you never talked to her before. You tried your best not to squirm at the amount of skin she was showing as she twirled a scalpel in her fingers. “Look at you, little student assistant! How adorable that you came here for you girlfriend!” You steeled yourself, clutching Senketsu like he could comfort you. “Shut it. I’m not above hitting women, you slut.” She immediately raged, taking more scalpels from behind her (how does that tight thing hide those scalpels?) and brandished them dangerously. “No one gets to call me a slut and gets away with it!” You yelped when she threw them at you. Your legs immediately running behind any obstacle that could block them but you were fucking sure she must’ve taken strength enhancement drugs because of the scalpels stabbing right through the concrete, leaving holes after its wake. It only took one lucky swipe on your cheek to make you flinch. Soon, three more scalpels stabbed you in the calf as you screamed in pain. Crumpling down on the ground, you clutched Senketsu tightly around you. Tears of pain formed in your eyes but you refused to let them fall in fear of fueling her ego even more. “Who said you were going to hit me?” She cackled, hearing something move from the ground as something metal skid across the debris. You gasped, taking gulps of air as you crawled away from her. Away from danger and try to recuperate but all you could muster was pained gasps before ultimately slumping down on the floor. In your delirious haze, you heard Ryuko’s voice screaming out your name. It was a welcome voice but it wasn’t enough to wake you up. Black spots soon spread to the corner of your vision as you let out a shaky breath. “Sorry, Senketsu.” You coughed out, the fresh scar on your cheek now dripping blood. “Guess your gonna listen to me monologue even more...” You were afraid to see any sort of sharp object come and kill you, so you closed your eyes and awaited the final blow. Senketsu struggled in your grip, feeling his sleeve wipe against your cheek where it was bleeding. You chuckled weakly. Leave it to Senketsu for comforting you, huh? ... Why do you feel so cold? Opening your eyes, you looked down to see Senketsu stripping your clothes hurriedly. The sight alone made you wake up and scramble to get Senketsu off of you. In your panicked state, you could barely register an ‘Oh my!’ from the skimpy nurse or Ryuko’s aghast screams at Senketsu. With you only in your undergarments, you shivered at both the blood loss and the cold before Senketsu opened his giant maw. You couldn’t even let out a scream before you felt the kamui swallow you whole. Outside of the kamui transformation, Ryuko could feel her heart jumping out of her chest when she saw Senketsu swallow you just like he had with her. What would this mean? Does this mean you’ll sync with Senketsu? Will you get to hear Senketsu? Would you suffer blood loss like she has before? Those questions rang across her mind like a bell but she didn’t even question the most important part until the transformation finished. Feeling blood rush to her cheeks, she screamed out an “Oh my fucking god!” Senketsu said in passing that her father had worn Senketsu, the image not wanting to be imprinted on her mind so she pushed it back to the farthest reaches of her mind. But seeing you don Senketsu had brought all of the embarrassment back full force. Your entire upper torso was naked, letting the entire world see your chest and stomach as the sleeves covered your arms and neck. Senketsu’s eyes were still the same, sitting in front of your clavicle as he stared at you in concern. She was sure he was asking you if you were okay. That’s not even the last of it. Looking down was a horrible plan when she saw the skin-tight black and red suit hugged your legs deliciously. She saw how the skin just spilled from the clothes as the pants were hung low on your hips. She hated it even more when the lines and the suspenders pointed straight at your crotch area and oH GOD DON’T GET HER STARTED WITH THE CROTCH AREA-- “Senketsu!” You screamed at the kamui, stretching the suit on your thighs like it would help. “What the fuck?!” [Sorry, but you were going to die.] He stated simply before his eye moving towards the assistant nurse. She still looked dazed, a hot blush painting her cheeks as she stared at you in hunger. [And you’ll still die if I continue to drain you, so hurry up and get her already!] You gulped, cringing at how the suit on your neck stuck to the skin. You sighed before crouching down, arm brought back and glared at the offender. With the combined strength of Senketsu, you jumped, going at almost lightspeed before throwing your fist at the girl’s face. Feeling her bones crack under your fist brought you a sense of euphoria as she was sent flying across the room. Her now-unconscious body broke through the wall and the wall after that and soon, there were 4 holes in the shape of an assistant nurse. Steam from Senketsu poured out from you like a pipe. You breathed in and out heavily, the rush exhilarating to you. Quickly realizing about your girlfriend, you whipped your head to see her only to find her absolutely red and steaming. You hurried to her and if it was possible for her to be flustered more, it’s happening as you knelt in front of her and carried her away from the rubble. Since you have godlike strength now, it was a cinch to carry her with even one arm. “Babe! You okay?!” Oh god, she can feel your pecs oh god this is more skin she’s touching in her lifetime oh god oh shit oh god-- “Ryuko?” You questioned gently, not wanting to surprise her out of her flushed-stupor. You could see her eyes trying not to stare at your chest or your crotch but it was incredibly obvious. [... She’ll be fine.] Senketsu said after a beat. If one were to listen closely, one could hear the mirth in his voice when watching Ryuko getting turned on from you wearing him. [We should go home and get treated immediately though.] You nodded at Senketsu, securing Ryuko more firmly in your hold (and making her break down even more) as you hurried to the Mankanshoku’s place. Maybe one day, Senketsu thought, he would make you wear him again just to tease her.

| Satsuki Kiryuin |

“God fucking dammit--” You seethed, adjusting your belt to cover your crotch more. “I’m gonna murder that fucking blonde bitch I swear--”

Trying to aim at Nui, your finger hovered over the trigger before the modified sniper rifle shot the specialized needle. The needle to stop Nui in her place flew across the air before impaling an empty space.

You cursed, hearing the blonde bitch’s giggling.

Getting away from your position, you hid for cover as you reloaded your rifle. You took a glance as you do, the reloading becoming second nature to you. The battered down slums of the city made the situation even more dangerous as a dense fog crawled into the vicinity. The tall, dingy houses for squatters towered over you as you controlled your breathing.

You, Satsuki, and Nonon were supposed to be back at Nudist Beach base. It was supposed to be an in and out mission. But some fucking blonde bitch had to step in and ruin everything for the heck of it.

Sucking in a breath, you whipped around the corner of your cover, rifle aiming at the air before gasping at the sight.

“There you are!” Nui said gleefully, waving Satsuki’s lifeless body like a light stick. “I was wondering when you were gonna show up!”

Satsuki’s battered body made your blood boil but it made you furious even more when Nui waved her around like she was nothing. What made you afraid even more was that she wasn’t wearing Junketsu. The sight of her being only in her undergarments while Nui paraded her around had never made you want to stab the needle right through her other eye.

You gripped your rifle, taking aim at Nui. “Drop her or I’m fucking dropping you.”

She giggled, dragging Satsuki’s body in front of her. Blood dripped down from her numerous cuts, decorating the ground as her limbs swayed. You could see her chest still moving but it doesn’t ease your worries.

“Don’t you dare or else you might drop your partner!”

You snarled, hands shaking on your weapon. Satsuki’s bangs covered her eyes as her mouth was hung open. But you could see them moving for a small moment.

Your heart dropped.

You nearly dropped your rifle but you took hold. Seeing Nui’s stupid smile behind Satsuki’s shoulder made you fume but you can’t just tear a whole through your girlfriend. Even if she wanted you to do it.

You were sure Nui would’ve been impaled just to see it too.

You slowly lowered your rifle all the while glaring at Nui but not until the shrill shriek of “Aim your fucking rifle back, overachiever!” before feeling cloth cover your vision.

Nonon, who was trying to find you and Satsuki ever since being separated from you two, breathed heavily from constant shouting and carrying Junketsu. Yes, while she had proper vocal training and breathing exercises so that it wouldn’t tire her easily, having to carry a sentient kamui was hard enough as it is. She was careful not to nick her skin on anything sharp so that Junketsu won’t react.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen,” She started, staring at Junketsu eating you whole, “but I sure hope something good happens!”

She then turned to her best friend, glaring at Nui as she stared in curiosity at your transformation. “Hang in there, Lady Satsuki! I’m sure your boyfriend can handle Junketsu!”

Hearing the transformation stop, she quickly turned to you, about to bark orders but could only let out a squeak of embarrassment.

The transformation ended, leaving you wearing a version of Junketsu that was reminiscent of how Satsuki wore them. Your entire upper torso was naked, save for Junketsu’s ‘eyes’ covering your shoulders and your arms which were covered with the white and blue sleeves.

What made it worse is that the suspenders pointed all down to your crotch area, the frills on the thigh-highs accentuating the spilling of your skin over the boots. Nonon, as Satsuki’s best friend, tried to avert her eyes from you but the sight of you looking so fucking sexy wearing Junketsu was forever imprinted in your mind.

“Oh?” Nui drawled out. “How interesting! The lover wearing the kamui and withstanding its hunger?”

“Hey!” Nonon screeched, glaring at her despite the redness on her face. “Don’t you dare ogle him!”

Satsuki, who was nearly unconscious for the whole time, twitched under Nui’s grip. She coughed out blood as she stared at you. You were still standing proud, your rifle aimed at Nui with newfound vigor as the strength that flowed through Junketsu now flowed with you.

She never could’ve been prouder for you.

Amidst her weakness, she smirked at you, printing the image of you standing proud wearing Junketsu in her mind. “Make her pay.”

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Sup folks! I apologise for my complete lack of schedule for posting but, as I promised @perseusannabeth , here we have Part Three! Delivered on Saturday, the last day of my self imposed deadline lol

Our dear boy Cass is back, so grab some popcorn and enjoy the show!

In which she makes a friend, Part Three

Two months and two weeks.

Cassian had been away from Windhaven for seventy-five days.

Seventy fives days spent going to each of the fifty war camps, overseeing the trainings – specially the female’s — and trying to cease the fire that seemed to be leading to the first Illyrian civil war since the Night Court’s High Lord had taken control of the land.

He was tired. Both physically and mentally. His wings seemed to weight ten times more, and he couldn’t help but think of the female he had left alone in his secluded cabin.

He had not wanted to leave.

He had not had a choice.

He should have written to her.

Should have tried to ask her to go with him.

He remembered Feyre saying in passing how Nesta once wished to go and sail the world. But that was a long time ago. When she had been human. When she had not suffered the horrors of the war.

Cassian was not concerned about her safety. He had wards on his house, wards that made it impossible to anyone deemed dangerous or suspicious to get inside. Specially other males apart from him and his brothers. Although Cassian didn’t think that Nesta would try and take anyone to his house. He had made sure to scare the fuck out of every male in camp once Nesta and him had arrived at Windhaven. They knew to not get close to her.

Nesta going to their houses seemed as much unlikely. She had not left her room since they’d arrived. He doubted she’d do so after he had gone away.

No, Cassian was concerned about her health.

In the first month, Cassian had taken upon himself the task of helping Nesta go through her detoxification. Not that she had wanted his help at all.

It had not been pretty. It was not an easy process. Cassian knew it. That was why he had been so concerned when she’d locked herself in her room and went through the pain all alone.

He had stayed awake, listening to her empty her guts day and night, unable to comfort her. To hold her hair back from her face. He’d leave water and food outside her door, the best he’d offer given the situation.

She usually took all the water. She left most of the food.

In the last week of her detoxification, the worst phase, he stood in front of his closed door all through the week, awake. Just waiting for a sound that would have him throwing the door open and running to her room, her anger at him be dammed.

She didn’t call for him. Or for anyone. She stayed unusually quiet.

Cassian died a thousand deaths during that time. He had been so afraid he had dared to open his door and almost knocked on hers. But he heard her breathing.

She was sleeping so quietly that only Fae ears would have been able to hear her.

That night, he stayed outside her door. And when he heard her wake up on the next day, he quickly went to the kitchen.

Acted as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t prayed all night for her well being, his stomach filled with dread.

He left food for her and went to oversee the morning training.

The males were smart not to provoke him that day.

And so their relationship stayed that way, Cassian trying to give her space. Waiting for her to talk to him. Or scream at him. Even hit him.

She did no such thing. Stayed practically all day in her room. In good days, Cassian would see her sitting in the stone bench outside his house when he came back. Those days were rarer then he liked.

And then he left. For two months.

She did not leave his mind not even for a second of those seventy-five days.

Landing outside his house, Cassian took a deep breath, bracing himself for what awaited him.

He entered the house, silence being his only greeting. He was not surprised. He had left Ironcrest as the sun was raising, eager to return home, and Nesta was not one to wake up early.

Cassian had stayed at Ironcrest for longer than the other camps, given how that prick Kallon was raising distress among the Illyrians.

He hoped Kallon met his demise at the Blood Rite that year.

But something was amiss in his house. Cassian spotted a duffel bag beside the sofa, which had a pillow and a blanket neatly folded on it. And there was a new scent, one which was not Nesta’s. His heart started to beat faster, his mind running the possibilities. Had the wards became weaker somehow? Had someone gotten inside his home? Or was this some arrangement Nesta had made? Was she planning to leave?

Dumping his things in the hall, Cassian practically ran towards her room, and after knocking and receiving no answer whatsoever — not even a low curse — he opened the door to find the room empty. The bed was made, and Nesta’s scent was still there, which calmed him a little bit. But where the Mother was she?

Closing the door, he strained his ears to listen to something, anything that would tell him that she still was in the house. And then he heard it, a voice coming from outside, very faintly.

He went to the kitchen and opened a side door that connected to an outdoor patio behind his house, which he used for training when he wanted to let off some steam instead of sparring with the other Illyrians.

The scene which Cassian was now seeing made him believe he had fallen sleep and was dreaming, for Nesta and an Illyrian kid were outside, doing what appeared to be some sort of training.

There were four tree stumps positioned to form a big square, in which Nesta was standing inside while the young Illyrian stayed airborne.

“FOUR!” the kid shouted, and flew towards what Cassian guessed was the stump marked as number four, Nesta running towards the same stump. She had just come close to it when another number was shouted, both the kid and Nesta moving towards the new spot.

And Cassian realised, after the initial shock of seeing Nesta outside, of seeing her filled with energy, that the young Illyrian was training Nesta. The exercise in question was one of the first the small Illyrians learned once they started training, to both create a sense of direction and balance while flying and having to suddenly change positions, and to start building their stamina.

He could not believe that somehow Nesta had started training, that she was wearing the Illyrian leathers he left for her among her other clothes. He had done it out of hope that she’d warm up to the ideia of training, to help her manage her powers, to help her learn how to defend herself, so she never found herself in a situation similar to the one with Hybern or his twin spies, all that time ago in Velaris’ library.

The leathers were a little big on her, and she still looked like she should eat at least five full banquets, but something had changed in the time he had been away.

Cassian was afraid to move. Was afraid to even breath. He remained frozen, and kept staring and staring at the female in front of him. A female that two months ago was a shell of her previous self, but that now had a little spark of life back in her eyes. A reminder of the untameable fire she once held.

“Anak”

The word — Commander in Illyrian — caught Cassian’s attention, and he came back to reality to find Nesta looking at him, unmoving, whereas the kid was back on the ground, one fist across its chest, wings tucked and head bowed down.

A soldier, greeting the Commander. A soldier, waiting for orders.

“Küroch” Cassian said, and the young boy raised his head, taking a relaxed attitude, with his feet apart and hands behind his back.

“Kaelin, you should go” Nesta’s voice broke the awkward silence that had fallen among them, and Cassian eyed their interaction with interest.

“But—”

“No buts. You have training in an hour right? You may go”

Kaelin’s eyes darted to Cassian, and the boy hesitated a fraction before muttering a quick goodbye and launching to the skies.

Leaving Cassian and Nesta alone.

~•~

“So you’re back”

“Did you miss me sweetheart?” Cassian teased, hoping to ease some of the tension in the air.

Nesta had gone back inside as soon as Kaelin had left, not bothering to give Cassian a single glance. He had obviously followed her inside, and now eyed her from the kitchen door as she gulped down a glass of water.

“Did you feel so alone that you got yourself a roommate?” he said, pushing her, wanting to get some reaction.

But it seemed the wrong thing to say, for Nesta stiffened and became a pillar of ice and steel he had not seen since the war.

“If Kaelin goes, so do I” she said, fire burning in her eyes “Do not blame me for taking him in and not consulting you when I thought you’d left for good. Two months. For two months you didn’t—”

She stopped herself, and Cassian was reminded of another conversation like this.

“You didn’t come to—”

“The next time, Emissary, I’ll come say hello”

Another broken promise. Another failure to add to his ever growing pile of mistakes.

“No one is going anywhere” he quietly added, trying to bury those memories again “But I’d like to know the reason why he’s here”

“He’s an orphan. He’s a thirteen year old kid who has nothing and no one to take care of him. And who’s left to live in some piss poor tent in the mud while the weather is as cold as Death’s kiss.”

“I lived like that too” Cassian said, reminding those cold and harsh days before Rhysand’s mother took him in, before he knew what it felt like to sleep on a bed, to have a warm meal and hot bath.

“Does it make it right then?” Nesta snapped, and the way she seemed to care for Kaelin made him think that maybe he’d judged her wrong.

She had pleaded for both humans and children’s lives back at the High Lord’s reunion. Had passionately demanded for them to stop being selfish and save them.

How could he have ever thought that she’d let Feyre go hunting as a fourteen year old and say nothing? Do nothing but just twiddle her thumbs while her youngest sister risked her life? With each passing day, Cassian found himself being more and more drawn to the interesting persona that was Nesta Archeron.

“No. No it doesn’t” his voice softened, and he decided to try and be a little less of an asshole “He stays. For as long he wants”

Cassian thought he saw Nesta almost sigh in relief and got even more curious about their relationship.

“How—” he cleared his throat, hoping to find a neutral topic “You are training”

“I figured that if I was to stay here for Mother knows how long I’d better find something to kill time with” she snorted “It’s not like there’s a library here”

“I can— I can ask for books to be delivered here” he gave her what he hoped was a teasing smirk instead of a grimace “I’m sorry my small private collection was not enough stimulation”

Cassian was tripping over his words, he knew that. He thought he must sound pathetic, but he had gotten Nesta to talk, and if his two months away had taught him something it was that he was done keeping his distance.

Nesta only shrugged, in thanks or dismissal he didn’t know, and walked past him to leave the kitchen. Probably to take a bath and get rid of those leathers.

“Stay” he grabbed her fingers, softly, just to hold her back.

She turned her face to look at him, their proximity and the meaning of his words making Cassian drop her hand and place some space between them.

“Have breakfast with me” he quickly added “You should always eat after exercise to regain the lost energy, and breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

He waited for a heartbeat. Two.

“I mean, I don’t know about you but I’m starving. I left Ironcrest too early and didn’t eat and—“

Gods, he sounded like a green boy talking with a girl for their first time.

“I’ll keep you company” Nesta cut his blabbering short, and sat in the kitchen chair, the ever picture of the mighty queen she was.

Cassian almost jumped with joy. Almost. Because she said she’d keep him company, not that she’d eat with him. And she needed to, desperately so.

Washing his hands and typing his hair back, he went through his cabinets and gathered lots of different ingredients. Nesta stayed silent while he cooked, and when he placed the food on the table — also giving her a plate — she only raised an eyebrow in question.

“This is Imu Yanisa Kiyauriri” he said, gesturing to the dish in front of her “It’s a traditional Illyrian dish. Kind like the human for porridge, but better.”

He didn’t wait for Nesta to start eating, but secretly eyed her as he ate.

“It tastes better hot” he tentatively said, silently willing her to grab the spoon and eat.

He cheered internally when she did, and swore he heard a silent moan of pleasure when she swallowed it. Imu Yanisa Kiyauriri was a dish know for its high energy potencial, and consisted of milk, water, sugar and mbe'yu, a type of wheat that the Illyrians grew. It was a simple dish to make, and was the first Cassian had ever learned to cook. He had faint memories of his mother feeding him Imu Yanisa Kiyauriri, and had almost begged Rhysand’s mother to teach him how to make it, if only to get closer to his mother one way or another.

Cassian had also cooked eggs, bacon, made some toast and brewed coffee. He left it all on the table, and didn’t force Nesta to take it. He would have to take small steps to help her. He could only offer her the possibilities and pray she would take them.

But as he sipped his coffee — the hot drink warming his tired body — he thought that maybe the new occupant of the house would turn out to be a very precious ally.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030-blog @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan

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[lunacyxxx]

Your shoes hit the concrete of the sidewalk as you ran trying to ignore the numerous shouts behind you, the sound of your beating heart echoed in your ears as well. Your mind was racing, you were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time while walking home from your last class, your curiosity got the best of you when you stumbled upon a drug deal going wrong.

You knew and heard rumors about the mafia being in town, but you didn’t think they’d be this close to your neighbourhood. Turning down an alley, you pushed your body to keep going; tears pricked in your eyes and you wiped them away when you saw the street your house was on come into view. Your rejoice was cut short when a sleek black car skidded to a stop in front of you swinging the door open, before you could stop you skidded into a pair of heavily tattooed arms that wrestled you into the backseat of the vehicle.

A cloth was pressed to your nose and you ended up inhaling the bizarre sweet scent that came from it, black dots claimed your vision while a male with black hair and blue eyes smirked down at you.

You woke up with a gasp as cold water was dumped over your body, you cough and struggle slightly to wipe your face only to find your arms tied behind you. You were on your knees and you could feel ropes digging into the skin of your legs, your limbs were bound making your calves press against your thighs. Someone clears their throat and you finally look up to a white haired male with red eyes, behind him were two other people as well.

You could recognize the tattooed dude who dragged you into the car and knocked you out with the chloroform drenched rag, there’s a blonde that’s smirking at you standing next to the black haired man. An audible gulp escapes your mouth once the guy who seems to be the leader starts to speak.

“I’m gonna just cut to the chase here you dumb girl, first of all how much did you see and hear,” the lanky male circled around your form and you nervously lick your lips before answering with a shaky voice. “I only saw when the money and stuff was being exchanged, and when someone pointed out that the money was counterfeit, I turned to leave when things got serious and one of the guys saw me and that’s when they started chasing me.”

“I was surprised at your speed though Babybird, you almost got away from me,” your eyes trail to meet golden ones. You couldn’t tell if the marks by his eyes were makeup or birthmarks, something glints in his hand and you’re shivering now. “I wasn’t done speaking Hawks,” Shigaraki crouched down in front of you and took your chin in his hold.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t put a bullet in this pretty little head of yours.”

Your breath hitches and you look between the three males, it finally clicked in your mind that you were dealing with the mafia and you swore they could possibly hear your heartbeat too. “Awe c’mon Shigs, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She seems like a really good girl too, she hasn’t put up a fight or anything either. What’s your name, even though I’m still gonna call you Songbird or Babybird.”

“Its Y/n,” Keigo nods and a ring cuts through the silence. It’s the personal ringtone you have set for Katsuki, you and him were best friends. He had ‘practice’ today so he wasn’t able to walk you home today, “Katsuki? Ah, I’ve heard about that kid. He’s a really good student with a shitty personality though. And he’s involved with Deku’s gang.”

You honestly forgot Shigaraki and Dabi were in the room until the white haired male spoke, “Do what you need to do then get her cleaned up before she gets a fever. I don’t need a cold floating around here,” you heard the door close leaving both you and Hawks alone.

Katsuki never told you he was participating in the mafia.

“Let’s answer this phone call shall we?”

“Wait! Please don’t,” Hawks ignores you and he props the phone up before answering the video call and walking back in front of you.

“Hey Shitty Girl, you didn’t call when you got home so I- what the fuck?”

The blonde’s red eyes were wide as he took in the sight of you bound on your knees, he felt awful for getting slightly aroused.

Hawks brought up a chair behind you and sat down pulling you back to lean against his form, fingers decorated with a few rings circled around your throat. The cold barrel of the gun lightly taps the edge of your jaw making you flinch and lean away, “How bout we play a game? Let’s meet up, but you have a few things to tell me first before you get your precious girl-.”

“Listen you cockatoo reject, Y/n has nothing to do with anything that fucking happens between our group and yours so let her go.”

A short scream escapes your mouth when the ceiling is shot, “I wasn’t finished you explosive brat.” Hawks’ grip tightened on your neck as he placed the hot barrel against your inner thigh making you cry out and squirm. “Everytime you cuss and or interrupt me, this cutie right here gets burned. Be mindful of what you do or say because I don’t plan on wasting the last bullet.”

Your breath comes out in short pants and Keigo releases the hold on your neck to take a hold of your jaw making you face Katsuki, you plead with your eyes towards your friend who grits his teeth. “What the f-what do you want from me?”

“First of all, a shame you kept this cutie hidden away. I guess you just wanted to be a good friend and keep her safe, you calling just made things a lot easier though.” Katsuki sucked his teeth and crossed his arms, “We’re gonna meet up and you’ll give me all of your gang’s current plans. If I find out or suspect you’re lying, this cutie right here is gonna suffer the consequences of your actions. I’ll be sending you the address shortly.”

“You bastard, I’d rather fucking die than give up that damn nerd Deku,” Katsuki immediately regretted his words when another gunshot rang out and your scream echoed through the speakers on his end. The tip of the gun was pressed up higher on your inner thigh then Keigo shot the ceiling for a third time and dragged the barrel of the gun from your hip up making your shirt ride up.

You were panting and whimpering, your body shivering from the cool air, Keigo let out a small groan. “I wonder what other sounds you can make Babybird. We can possibly find out now maybe?” A look was in Keigo’s and Katsuki hated it, the younger blond gnawed at his lip, mixed emotions were flowing around his mind. Katsuki was possibly just as guilty as the other male, the sight of you bound, water dripping off your body excited him.

The way your chest heaves with every breath you take, “Like I said. I’ll send you the address and you better be on your way as soon as you get the text.” Before Bakugo could speak, Hawks reached over and hung up the phone. His golden eyes landed on you, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You could feel the ropes coming undone and you rubbed your arms then legs to get the blood flowing through them.

“You’re not gonna hurt him are you?”

“That all depends on how he decides to approach this whole situation, truth be told you should worry about yourself.” Hawks had a sly smile on his face before he picked you up leading you through the same doors Dabi and Tomura used. You were led through what seemed like a maze of halls before Keigo stopped at a door, “This is my room. There’s a bathroom in there for you to use and we can just grab something of mine for you to wear, after that we’re gonna meet your friend so don’t take too long or try anything.”

You nodded and he unlocked the door ushering you in before coming in and pointing to the bathroom, your feet lead you to the door before opening it.

The bathroom was simple, a bit larger than the one at your home but you knew this was the base of their operations so there was no need for extravagant spaces here. Keigo taps your shoulder and you jump lightly, folded up in his hands is a pair of sweats and a shirt. You thank him softly and take the clothing before closing the door, after about twenty minutes you were done and you come out seeing your captor laid out on his bed texting away.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road,” he smiles at you but your gut tells you something more is gonna happen. He takes you by your wrist and leaves with you trailing behind him, “You don’t have to be so scared Babybird. I don’t think I have it in me to actually hurt that pretty little face of yours unless you’re into stuff like that. I don’t kink shame.”

You sputter softly and your cheeks redden brightly, Hawks laughs shaking his head and soon you’re being pushed into yet another car; Keigo slides in beside you resting his hand on your thigh.

Katsuki doesn’t tell anyone about the ordeal that he’s in, he knew that if he did Deku would want to wait it out and make some dumbass plan. Katsuki was always protective of you, seeing you bound like that in front of the other blond made him upset yet turned on. He watched his phone until it lit up with the text containing the address, Bakugo was already pacing in front of his door beforehand.

Exiting his home, he plugged the address into his maps and saw that it was only a fifteen minute walk. He made sure that the hood of his jacket was up to stop anyone he knew from recognizing him being out this late.

Katsuki stood in front of what seemed to be a penthouse and snorted before ringing the buzzer to be let in.

Hawks gave you your phone to unlock it before snatching it back out of your hands to text Katsuki as soon as the two of you made it to his place. He ushered you inside and told you to sit on the couch, “What did you mean when you said I had to worry more about myself earlier?”

“Ah that’s still on your mind? Well maybe I could just show you,” he stalked towards you and placed his hands onto the back of the couch beside your head. You audibly gulped as your eyes gazed into his own golden ones, “Your friend isn’t exactly who he seems. I know he never told you about his gang affiliation but I’m sure he’s never told you about how he’s also a double agent.”

You blink owlishly opening your mouth to ask what he meant until there was a buzzing sound, “He’s here already.” Keigo strolled to the front door pressing a button, his hand looked around your bicep when he walked back urging you to follow him to his room. A startled yelp leaves your mouth when he tosses you on the bed telling you to stay put, Hawks leaves the room and you keep quiet.

The door opens and you could hear an exchange of words, both of their voices mingling a bit before there’s a shared laugh. Your heart speeds up as they enter the room, Katsuki smiles at you and the whole situation becomes even more confusing.

--

Your breath came out in short pants, your legs were shaking and you were trying your best to wrestle your hands from the iron grip that pressed them to the comforter. Red eyes stare down at your teary e/c ones, “P-Please. I-I can’t..let me c-cum please!”

Keigo gave a hard lick against your clit while slipping his soaked fingers from your aching pussy, “Oh come on Babybird. You can hold out just a bit longer can’t you?” Katsuki leaned down to press an upside down kiss to your lip, “Yeah Teddybear. If I knew you were such a fucking slut, I would have snatched you up before this birdbrain right here did.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were trying to hide your boner through that video call Sparky. You should be fucking thanking me that you’re here with me, I didn’t have to send the address and shit.”

A squeak leaves your mouth when Keigo leans back down taking your clit back into his mouth while reinserting his fingers back into your quivering cunt. Bakugo’s insults are ignored as Hawks noisily (and sloppily) eats you out like he’s been starved. Your thighs are quaking and the gold eyed male huffs sitting up, “Grab her thighs.”

“W-wait I-“ you’re suddenly sitting upright but Katsuki has you in a full nelson position leaving you completely exposed to Hawks. Your head knocks back against Bakugo’s shoulder and he places kisses along your neck. “Look at you all spread out like this. You love the fucking attention don’t you? Being fucking dominated by two guys that could do literally anything they want to you.”

You were babbling softly as your hips twitch, Bakugo’s words and Hawks’ mouth turned your brain to mush. You slick walls were clinging to Keigo’s fingers as he hooked them upwards making you scream.

Keigo let your clit go with with a loud wet smack before bringing his face towards yours while finger fucking you.

“There we fucking go, you ready to cum? Yeah? You wanna cum after we took turns edging you over and over again, go ahead and cum so we can fuck your brains out.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and white flashes behind your lids as a shaky keen erupts from your throat as you finally cum. Your essence gushes out soaking his fingers and the covers below, “Holy shit Teddybear. To think you were a fucking squirter.” Katsuki kisses your temple and lets your quivering legs down while Hawks licks his fingers.

The both of them give you about a minutes to come down from your high before Bakugo pulls you into his lap, you look down gulping seeing that he’s already naked. His cock pressed against your puffy lower lips before his hot hands gripped your waist, he soon began rutting against you making your juices coat his cock.

“You’re gonna sing me a song right Songbird? Let everyone know, especially the one behind you know who this pussy belongs to?” You look up through your lashes at the older blond smirking down at you, “Shut the fuck up you damn Tweetybird. My Teddybear knows who she really belongs to, you don’t know her like I fucking do.”

You’re snatched up from Bakugo who growls and Keigo holds you up hovering your dripping folds over the head of his leaking cock. “Let’s see who can make her cum the most amount of times then we’ll decide who gets her.”

They were talking and snapping at each other as if you weren’t right here dangling over a cock. Your hands place themselves on Hawks chest, during their banter you were able to somewhat calm down to think again.

“Ah you’re back with us finally Babybird?”

You give a soft nod and swallow hard, you adjust yourself so you’re properly straddling him hissing softly when the tip of his member grazes your clit. Warmth covers your back as Katsuki leans over you to kiss your cheek.

“I’m tired of having your fucking back to me.”

Your world spins and now your back is pressed to Hawks’ chest, you gaze up into red irises as Bakugo claims your mouth in a heated kiss. Hawks rolls his eyes and gropes at your breasts playing with your budding peaks, you feel a prod at your back entrance making you jolt slightly.

“Sorry Kid, I should have warned you but I’m dying to get inside of you. Just relax for me okay,” Katsuki breaks the kiss and pulls away to spit on your pussy and watch his saliva flow down to the puckered ring of muscle.

“K-Katsuki,” you were shocked at the display. You and Keigo both knew you were already wet down there anyway, “You sly bastard. Just know I’m still gonna make her scream my name more than yours.”

Hawks gripped one of your thighs while his other hand took his cock guiding it to press at your hole again. “Relax and be a good girl for me yeah?” You nod and glance at the other occupant in the room who’s stroking his cock at the sight of you spread out like this. You and Hawks sigh out in unison when he finally slips inside of you, “Ohhh fuck.”

Keigo’s voice drops an octave or two while he slowly pushes his member deeper into your gummy walls, “You’re so fucking tight. Fucking hell.”

You were panting and trying not to squirm too much until you could feel his hips flush against yours.

“Fucking finally you damn extra.”

Katsuki was back over you, his cock lightly tapping at your pussy before it slips inside of you. Both men hiss at the way you squeeze their cocks, the three of you lay there panting.

Your hips soon begin to wiggle, the stinging melting into pleasure. “Someone’s a little eager. Ready for us to fuck you, pump you full of our cum Babybird? Ready to show this amateur who you belong to?”

Katsuki suddenly delivers a sharp thrust making you and Hawks yelp, “You talk too fucking much.” Katsuki sets the pace and Hawks soon followed, they’re moving in sync so that when one of them is pulling out the other is pushing in.

The room is filled with a chorus of moans, filthy promises and skin hitting skin. Your hands are scrambling to find purchase on either of the guys as you could already feel your orgasm approaching, “I’m gonna-I’m gonna c-cum!”

Katsuki’s hand flew down and his fingers started rubbing your clit making you arch your back, you were about to cry out his name until Hawks shoved his middle and ring finger into your mouth making you gag. Katsuki clicked his tongue, “That’s fucking cheating.”

“And you stroking her clit right as she’s about to cum isn’t,” Hawks sasses back. The both of them are too involved with their bickering to notice you cumming until you went limp in their hold weakly pushing on them.

Your muffled plea for them to slow them was ignored as Hawks picked up the pace, “We’re gonna have to redo that one Babybird.” Katsuki nodded as his hand left your clit to wrap around your throat, your eyes struggled to stay open as they both wrecked your body overstimulating you until you ended up squirting again.

You could feel the throbs if their cocks as they too began to reach their climaxes, their dirty talking to you (and maybe some to each other) was drowned out by the overload of pleasure.

With a final thrust, they both cussed and groaned as they filled you up with their seed.

The three of you lay there trying to catch your breaths, your eyes widen slightly when you feel Keigo twitch inside of you. “You tired already Blasty? I bet I can last more rounds than you ever could.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue and gave an experimental thrust while his teeth dug into his lower lip, “Shut the fuck up.” Hawks rolled his eyes and shifted, “I wanna fuck her pussy next so move.” Katsuki gets up slowly slipping out of you and he watches his cum drop out of your pussy, “You look so good with my cum dripping out of you Princess.”

Your meek voice doesn’t seem to reach them as Keigo sits up with his member still inside of you. His right hand wraps around your throat while the other grabs your hip, “I’m gonna fuck you while you clean him up. How does that sound, Babybird?”

You nod and the younger blond cups your cheeks as he kisses you, a moan comes from you as the other male in the room grunts. You feel the blunt head of his cock pressing at your pussy until he slips in, Keigo had a slightly larger girth than Bakugo but he filled you up so well.

Leaning down after breaking the kiss with Katsuki, you wrapped your hand around his cock and took his tip into your mouth. His warm hand made homage on the back of your head while he let out a guttural growl, his hips began bucking slightly making you take more of his length.

Hawks cooed at you and told you how much of a good girl you were being for taking them both like his. “You love having your holes fucked and stretched like this huh? You like the idea of both of us filling you up with our cum, who knew such a cutie like you would be a cumslut.”

Bakugo would never admit it to anyone, not even himself but the way Keigo spoke to you combined with your glossy eyes gazing up to him drove him wild. He didn’t expect to cum again so quickly, Keigo massaged you’re throat making sure you swallowed all of the other male’s seed before sitting back on his knees with your body to his absolutely pounding into you.

You cry out when Hawks spanks your thigh, “Look at your best friend. He’s such a pervert for watching you being fucked like this, I’m pretty sure he’d love it even if Dabi were here. Hell maybe even my boss, we’d pass you around and take turns filling you up and fucking you until you can’t remember your own name. But you’d damn well remember ours, you like the sound of that? Your pussy clenched down on me, you gonna cum again huh? Don’t fucking close your eyes and let him see you cum all over this dick.”

You were reduced back to stutters and soft babbles as you weakly reached towards Katsuki who interlocked your fingers together and grabbed your chin. His tongue collected the drool coming from the corner of your mouth before he slips his thumb between your lips and spits in your mouth again.

“Don’t fucking swallow,” Hawks turns your towards him and does the same thing. You couldn’t stop yourself from swallowing before a choked up sob exits your throat as white flashes behind your eyelids. Your legs are practically vibrating now and you slump completely against Katsuki when Hawks lets you go to grab your hips. Feral growls come from the man behind you as he reaches his peak yet again making sure his hips and as close as they can be against yours.

“Y/n you swallowed when I told you not to,” Bakugo grumbles wiping your tears with his thumbs. Hawks pulls out of you and you fall into Katsuki’s arms, your mind was fuzzy and you could only murmur softly as you came down from your high. Keigo rubs your back and kisses your shoulder, “Maybe sharing with this pipsqueak won’t be so bad.”

“Tch, shut the hell up you damn flamingo.”

[onecanonlife]

careful son (you got dreamer's plans)

Wilbur was dead. Now, he is not. He can't say that he's particularly happy about it.

Unfortunately,  the server is still as tumultuous as ever, even with Dream locked away,  so it seems that his involvement in things isn't a matter of if, but when.

(Alternatively:  the prodigal son returns, and a broken family finally begins to heal.  If, that is, the egg doesn't get them all killed first.)

Chapter Word Count: 2,169

Chapter Content Warnings: swearing, c!Wilbur’s current mental state

Chapter Summary: In which Wilbur is resurrected, finds himself alone in a forest, and very much objects to this whole concept.

(masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(next chapter)

Chapter One: soldier, keep on

Wilbur gasps back to life with mud between his fingers and rain in his eyes.

It is an ugly thing, reviving like this. His body does not remember what it is to live. The sensations are overwhelming: the ground beneath him, cold and wet, the freezing air against his skin, the force of gravity that keeps him pinned down. It takes a moment for him to recall how to breathe, to even recall that he needs to do so at all, after that first instinctive inhalation. His lungs are burning, and fear washes over him, builds within him—but the memory comes. His lungs inflate. Deflate. Too quickly, at first, too shallowly, but he falls into a rhythm soon enough.

Breathing. He is breathing. He is alive. His fingers curl into the grass, the slick dirt, and he shudders at the feeling. He thinks he might shake apart right here, right now, shake apart and back to death again.

He doesn’t want to be here.

His mind is fuzzy, whirling, confused, and his thoughts are so much scattered snow, but this much he knows. He does not want to be alive, does not want to be here, does not want this—

But since when has he had a choice in the matter?

Sitting up is slow. Strange. It takes more effort than it should, and it sets his head to spinning as he blinks the water from his eyes. His vision clears enough to see where he is: a forest, not too dense, the trees sparsely placed. He is sitting beneath one, and as if to reward the realization, the leaves jerk in a sudden wind, dumping several large drops of water on his head. He frowns up at them, and at the grey sky beyond. And then has to look down again—there is more rain in his eyes, and the sting of it is unpleasant, too sharp. Every sensation feels like too much, too present and too raw and too close.

He should stand, he thinks. But he stares at his legs, and wonders if they will hold his weight. They don’t look as if they will. They are shaking. His whole body is shaking, shaking apart and back to—

(you could only be so lucky)

He stands. He lurches to the side, at first, has to grip the tree for balance as his legs adjust to holding him up. His head pounds, spins, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the wave of vertigo.

And then opens them.

The laughter comes unbidden, welling up from somewhere dark, somewhere despairing. It echoes in his ears until it’s all that he can hear, all that he knows, curling around him, manic and wild. It is a villain’s laugh. A villain’s laugh for a villain, a villain with blood caking his hands and madness pressing on the edges of his mind

(is it progress, that he can recognize it now?)

(but is it madness? or is it just him? what is real, the brother that he used to be, or the shattered, destructive thing that he became? can he blame his actions on madness when he enjoyed every moment?)

and now a heart pumping in his chest, alive, alive, alive. Alive, when he never wanted it, when he explicitly told Tommy not to—

Not to what? To bring him back? Tommy wanted him, but Dream is the one with the power, or so Tommy said. Dream, alive just like him, when he has no right to be. A villain just like him, but not, but worse

(who do you think you’re fooling? how much of Tommy’s pain can be laid at your feet?)

for all that he’s done. To Tommy, to everyone on the server, even to those who once counted him as a friend.

(He was one, wasn’t he? In the early days, in the peaceful days, before the war? They were all friends, then, when Dream invited them to his world, invited them to make a home and to stay, and he really thought that he could settle here, with his little brother and with everyone else. He was friends with Dream, then.)

(The war was a game, in the beginning. He can’t pinpoint the moment when that changed.)

And perhaps Tommy forced the issue, forced the resurrection. But Dream still made the choice to do it. In the end, he is back at Dream’s behest and at no one else’s, and anger stirs in him, that he is in any way beholden to that bastard, to the asshole who caused so much pain, so much suffering, who tormented and abused his little brother

(but you did the same, don’t forget)

to the point of—

He is not Ghostbur. Not in any way that matters, just like Ghostbur wasn’t truly him. But he remembers what Ghostbur knew, more or less, and more than that, he understands in a way that Ghostbur was never capable of. In a way, part of him envies Ghostbur his naivety. Most of him doesn’t, though, isn’t capable of anything more than a vague disgust at best. Naivety helps no one, does nothing. The naive either learn better, or they die. That’s the way the world works, has always been the way that the world works.

The point is, he has perspective that Ghostbur didn’t. He knows what Dream did. What he’ll do again, if given the chance, and he will have that chance. Tommy’s decision to spare him has guaranteed as much. Even the most inescapable prison cannot hold someone like Dream forever.

He forms a fist. Punches the tree. It smarts, and finally, here is a sensation that does not overwhelm him, that is almost comforting in its familiarity, that clears his head and allows him to focus. There is solid ground beneath his feet and water dripping from his soaked hair onto his face. He is in a forest that he doesn’t recognize. His heart beats in his chest.

Alive, alive, alive.

“What the fuck have you done?” he murmurs, and his voice is a broken, frayed thing. Unsurprisingly, he receives no answer, and his mind is left to invent them, each more terrible than the last.

This much is clear, though, he needs to

(find his family)

(see Dream dead)

(blow them all to hell and back because why not, what more is there to lose)

(run run run as far and as fast as possible)

get to Tommy? Get to Tommy. Yes. That’s the first step. Get to Tommy, shake the life out of him until he owns up to whatever the hell he was thinking with this. Learn more about how he defeated Dream in the first place, because surely that will be relevant information, because surely the second step will be to kill Dream. He’s too dangerous to be kept alive, and he’s outlived his use anyway.

If Tommy truly spared him just so that he would… resurrect Wilbur, well. He’s served his purpose. There’s no reason to keep him breathing.

Even if—

Well.

He’ll think about it when the time comes.

(he doesn’t want to be here, please, let him rest, let him be free)

For now, he is here, and he has a goal, has a plan. So he takes his first step forward, and finds walking easier than he expected. His muscles seem to remember how to do it, now, and his strides grow longer and longer until he is a hair’s breadth away from running, sprinting through the trees, and his legs begin to burn, and it is a good burn, a burn that comes from simple exertion, from the revolutionary act of living, and the rain pours down and giddiness fills him, if just for a moment. If just for a moment, he thinks that perhaps this might not be such a bad thing after all.

If just for a moment.

He breaks through the tree line. And stops.

He knows where he is.

He hadn’t realized before, how cold it was. Or rather, he realized it distantly, in the manner of things that don’t quite effect him, that he acknowledges but doesn’t have to think on. But it does effect him, and as his adrenaline wears off, chills run across his body, his skin erupting in gooseflesh. He’s not dressed for this climate, is wearing the same clothes he died in, the white shirt and the trenchcoat that does little in the way of providing warmth.

But he knows where he is.

Or rather, Ghostbur did, so now he does. There is snow in the distance, about a twenty minute walk, perhaps. The border of the tundra. From there, it isn’t far to Techno’s base. Another half hour on foot, if the weather isn’t too bad.

Techno.

He hadn’t even thought to go see him. Hadn’t spared a thought for his other brother, or for his father, who he knows is staying with him. But they are so close, right there, and his objective is to get to Tommy, but

(he wants to see them, wants them so bad, wants his brother’s protective glare and his father’s warm embrace)

he doesn’t know where Tommy is, does he? He has a general idea, but no more than that, and even besides, he doesn’t know anything about the current politics of the server, other than the fact that Dream is locked away. Who does that leave in charge, if anyone? Who is on whose side? What sides are left at all?

He needs more information. Techno isn’t likely to be in the loop, all things considered, but even a little bit of intelligence would be better than no intelligence at all. And he’s closer. A warm house sounds very nice right now.

He considers his objectives, and makes a mental readjustment. Tommy can be second, Dream third. That’s fine. Techno first.

If, that is, Techno allows him in. If he doesn’t slam the door on his face. If he doesn’t kill him again. He liked Ghostbur, Wilbur thinks, but Ghostbur was Ghostbur, and he is himself, and he doesn’t know where they stood with each other, by the end. Doesn’t know whether Techno will be glad to see him at all. That shouldn’t matter to him, though. It shouldn’t matter at all what Techno thinks of him,

(even if something in him balks at the idea that Techno might hate him, that Techno, his brother who he has protected and pestered in equal measure, who has done the same for him since the day Phil took his hand and brought him home and said to the piglin hybrid waiting at the door, Techno, this is your new brother Wilbur, please don’t kill each other)

since he has his goals, and those are what’s important. So really, if Techno turns him away, he’s no worse off, if a little colder and wetter. He goes back to the original plan of getting to Tommy, killing Dream. In that order.

Right. Right.  

This will work.

It will be several hours of walking through the cold. Best to start now. So he does, walking at a steady pace, aiming for the snow, and—

Something blue.

Something blue flashes in the corner of his eye, and he freezes, wheels around, his heart pounding in his ears. His eyes dart around, but there is nothing there, nothing that he can see. No movement in the trees behind him. No movement in the grass around him. No movement in the snowy climate ahead. No movement, but then, that doesn’t mean that nothing is there, that he didn’t see anything at all,

(because it’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you)

and he’s certain that he did. That he saw blue.

Blue has strange connotations for him, now. He’s not Ghostbur. But Ghostbur’s memories linger.

“Who’s there?” he calls out, and is proud of the way his voice holds steady. There is no reply, and still no movement. “You can come out, if you want to talk. I’m unarmed,” he adds, and immediately regrets it. If there is someone there, there is a good likelihood that they mean him harm. He didn’t exactly… leave on a good note, and advertising his lack of a weapon to someone who might very well want to kill him is not a good idea.

But nothing happens either way. No one steps out from behind a tree to talk. No one jumps out and tries to stab him. He waits for a few minutes before admitting defeat and turning back to his path.

Perhaps he imagined it. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that’s ever happened to him.

(but he didn’t, he knows he didn’t, and he’s pretty sure that there’s something he’s forgetting)

He’ll be alert. Careful. Watchful. It’s all he can do at this point.

So, with a heart beating in his chest and lungs that breathe and feet that touch the ground, Wilbur goes off to find his brother.

---------

As a note, I’m new to writing for this fandom, so while I don’t have a taglist for it yet, I’m happy to make one if anyone would like, so feel free to ask!

[zeppelin-and-unicorns]

Black Peonies preview

A/N: This is the first chapter of the J/H soulmate AU fanfic I’ve been working on for a really long time. I do not plan on posting it on AO3 or ff.net for now, because I have yet to finish writing the last couple of chapters.

That being said, I hope you enjoy this sneak peek.

Trigger Warning: Explicit child abuse

Chapter one:

January, 1970

Steven Hyde walked through the dark streets of Point Place alone. Mr. Forman’s brother from Chicago got hurt, and the whole Forman clan went to see him for the weekend, which means that Hyde had nowhere to go.

He stayed with Kelso and Donna for a big chunk of the day, but Bob doesn’t like when Donna has boys over after it was dark out, so he and Kelso had to take off.

He walked Kelso to his home, because Hyde was not in a hurry to get to his own house. It was a Saturday, and Edna tends to go a little crazy on Saturdays, that’s why he would often sleep over at the Forman’s.

He was lucky Bob and Midge made them snacks too, because Edna rarely buys any food for the weekends. She tends to spend the little money they have on booze and drugs.

He spent as much time as possible walking around, trying to avoid going home to Edna, but there wasn’t much he could do, it was very cold outside, and he didn’t have a nice jacket to keep him warm, he needed to go home. It was trashy, but at least there was heat. He hoped Edna would be passed out by now, but he doubted, it was still early.

The minute he reached his block, he sighed. He could already hear the sounds of beer bottles clinking and the voices of his mom’s stoner friends, she definitely was not asleep, crap.

Someone threw a beer bottle at his direction, and the glass shattered all over the shitty pavement. He glanced at the direction the bottle came from, and saw his mother’s laughing figure sitting on the porch. Fucking fantastic.

“Home already, kiddo?” She asked, slurring with her words and blowing the smoke from the cigarette in her hand.

“It’s cold” He shrugged, and tried to get inside the house before his mother would start with her usual drunken ramblings, that usually ended up with her blaming him for her shitty life.

His mother grabbed his arm to stop him and he sighed in frustration.

“You couldn’t have stayed with your friend today?” She asked bitterly

“He’s outta town with his folks” He answered, hoping she would drop it and let him go to his room.

“It wasn’t enough for you to ruin my career, now you have to ruin my weekend too?” She said, puffing out another cloud of smoke

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I had somewhere else to go” Hyde answered 

“Aren’t you a smartass?” Edna taunted him, and laughed slyly.

“I want to go inside, it’s cold” Hyde said simply, if he learned something from all of his 11 miserable years with Edna, is that there was no use in arguing with her.

“I know something that will warm you up in a second” She slurred out and laughed, forcefully grabbing his right hand on her bony fingers and putting out her cigarette on his skin.

He felt his skin burning and tried to pull his hand off her tight grip, the pain brought tears into his eyes and it was almost unbearable. But she held on tighter, pressing the burnt stub onto his skin as she laughed.

"Tears?" Edna mocked at the sight of Hyde's teary eyes "Aren't you supposed to be a tough guy?"

He held himself back. He wanted to tell her to fuck off so badly, but he knew better. If he did, he would have to spend the night wandering the streets, and he wasn't in the mood to freeze to death.

She flicked the bud onto the snow, and finally let go of his hand. The pain didn't go away though, in fact, it got worse. He thanked a God he wasn't so sure he believed in for making Wisconsin winters so cold. He would be able to hide the burn by wearing gloves and ease the pain by shoving his hand onto the snow that probably accumulated by his bedroom's dingy window.

Hyde glanced one last time at his stoned and drunk pathetic excuse of a mother and headed inside the house, holding his right hand on his left one.

Sometimes he wished the soulmate thing wasn't real. He doesn't like the thought of an innocent girl suffering all the pain his mother puts him through.

But he knew better, the universe never cared about his wishes, otherwise he would have a different mother. He just hoped that the girl who had the bad luck of being his soulmate had a strong support system or whatever, because his shitty reality isn't changing anytime soon.

Meanwhile, in Point Place's community theater…

10 year old Jackie anxiously tried to peek through the closed blinds, today was probably one of the most exciting days of her life, she was about to play on her first piano recital ever! She was trying her hardest to not be nervous, because she’s a Burkhart, and Burkhart’s excel on absolutely everything they do – according to her mother. She practiced every day for hours, she wanted to be perfect, because both of her parents promised they’d watch her play today.

“Miss Burkhart, it’s almost time, are you ready?”

“Yes I am, Mrs. Crawford! I have my sheet here with me – even though I don’t need it, just as a precaution” Jackie said excitedly, and her music teacher smiled

“You’re going to do great, Jackie” She said with a small smile “Go wait over there, you’re up next” 

Jackie nodded and went to wait where her teacher indicated. Her heart was beating so fast, and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She couldn’t wait to be praised by her parents.

They already missed her dance recital, and neither of them were there when she won the trophy for “Prettiest Ballerina”, but they promised they would attend her piano recital, that’s why she decided she would play one of the hardest songs, so she could impress them.

She knew none of her colleagues had the ability to play this song; most of them were playing “Fur Elise” or “Ode to Joy”. She wanted to be the best, so she chose “Clair de Lune” by Debussy, one of her father’s favorites songs. He likes to listen to it when he’s smoking his cigars, so she made sure to learn just to make him proud.

When she heard Mrs. Crawford calling her name, she’d put on her stage smile, the one her mother taught her so long ago. When she entered the stage, she glanced at the audience, trying to find the familiar faces of her parents. She didn’t see either of them, and she had to repress the urge to cry.

They bailed on her, again. They promised they would make it!

She took a deep breath and saw Martina’s familiar face. She was giving her a sad smile, and Jackie sighed. She likes Martina, but she would never fill the hole left by her mother. It’s not like Martina wants to be there anyways, she only went because she’s paid to do so.

Jackie quickly forced a smile and went to sit at the piano bench. If her parents didn’t want to be there, that’s their loss. There was a good amount of LOPP’s mothers there, she hoped they would tell her mother later how she played beautifully, and her mother better feel bad.

She stretched her fingers the way Mrs. Crawford taught her, and placed the music sheet on its proper place. The second her fingers touched the piano keys, she felt herself relaxing a bit, and when she started to play, she genuinely smiled. The first couple of minutes of the song went smoothly, some people even clapped when she mastered the transition from the slow part of the song to the slightly faster one.

Then she stopped playing, and not because the song was over.

Out of nowhere, she felt a blinding pain on her hand. She whimpered in pain and held her right hand with her left one, tears involuntarily falling from her eyes.

Mrs. Crawford quickly ran to see what was going on with her best student, and she sighed when she saw a black peony forming on the girl’s hand. 

“It’s burning, Mrs. Crawford” Jackie cried, and the older woman placed her hand on her shoulder.

“I know honey, you know what that means, right?” She said, and Jackie nodded.

That means that her soulmate was hurting. Again.

Last week Jackie got a new flower on her shoulder, and the week before that, she felt like someone was slapping her on her face.

Thank God that bruises on the face don’t leave flower marks, otherwise people would see her as a freak, because she feels like she’s being slapped or punched on at least once a week.

Mrs. Crawford guided her out of the stage, and made her sit on a small bench near the dressing rooms. Jackie carefully rubbed her hand, the pain was starting to subside a little, the black peony marking the exact place where it was hurting.

“Do you want to go back and start again, Jackie?” The woman gently asked, and Jackie shook her head.

All she wanted to do was go back home and pray for her soulmate to get the help he needs. She doesn’t know why he gets hurt so often, but she wanted it to stop. For both of their sakes.

[tooyoungngolden]

Prompt:

Bed sharing au:

The heater broke and I’m freezing. Get over here.

A little over 4.2K words

————————

Y/N hated the winter. Absolutely despised the cold weather and how it made her bones ache. She hated the fact that her apartment went from being toasty warm to freezing fucking cold, hated the fact that she had to wear 9 different layers to even stay a little bit warm. Hated the fact that she spent it alone.

And now here she was. On her bed, wrapped in her duvet and every single blanked currently in her apartment, still shivering. The heating had broke a little over 4 hours ago and the landlord had told her that he wasn’t going to be able to fix it until the end of the week. So here she was, wrapped in ever blanked imaginable- freezing. The warmth that had once filled her apartment had very quickly evaporated as soon as the heating had shut off, and her home was cold within an hour.

Y/N didn’t know what the hell she was meant to do. She was wearing 4 different layers and 3 pairs of socks and her body still didn’t want to stop its shaking. She didn’t have her portable heater, that she’s lent to one of the girls from work and she didn’t have the heart to ask for it back now, especially when it was so cold outside. She’d sooner stay cold then make someone else cold.

Y/N didn’t even have anywhere she could go. She didn’t really have any friends in the area, she wasn’t close enough to the girls at work to even think about asking to stay round any of their houses. And Harry wasn’t due back in England for a couple more days- he’d just finished he’s tour and was wrapping up with interviews and a few little things before he got on a plane home. And even then, he’d be in his nice warm hotel room while Y/N suffered in the cold.

She turns over, squishing her face into her pillow, huffing out a small breath, she pulls the duvet up over her head. Trying to at least trap a little air in with her that could potentially become warm while she was under there. She whines, tears pricking at her eyes as she shivers. She doesn’t want to be cold anymore.

She so busy not paying attention to anything around her that she doesn’t hear keys being shoved into the lock on her front door. She doesn’t hear the door sticking and being shoved open, doesn’t hear the voice her best friend mutter out a quick “shit”, or the door being shut behind him. She doesn’t hear him come down the hallway, but she definitely hears him push open the door to her bedroom because it scares the shit out of her. She throws the duvet off her head and launches herself up in the bed. She stares at him, her mouth slightly, eyes focused on Harry.

“H?” She whispers. Pulling the duvet back up to her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m home early,” he says back, his voice a little louder than hers, “‘s only a couple days, I finished everything yesterday,”

She nods, moving herself up the bed to pat the space next to her. Harry grins, reaching down to pull of his shoes before he throws himself on the bed as well.

“You alright love?” He asks, moving so that he was laying next to her.

She nods, pulling her body down so that she was laying next to Harry. Pulling her body as close to his as possible, trying to absorb as much of his body head as she could. He body starts up with its small shivering again.

“Yeah, jus’ cold,” she whispers again, trying not to let Harry know that her teeth were chattering in her mouth.

Harry moves again, wrapping his arms around Y/N and he looks around the room, noticing that all of her blankets were in the bed with her, noticing that she was shivering a little, he looks down at her. Eyes squinting as he asks, “whys it so cold in her love?”

Y/N laughs, a small little huff working it’s way past her lips- she’s so not amused though- “Fucking heating broke and I’m freezing. David said he can’t fix it til Friday, so I’m stuck like this. Now please, got over here. I’m so cold”

Harry laughed back at her, moving further down the bed so that Y/N could completely wrap herself in his arms. She shoves her head into his neck, breathing out short little warm puffs of air, tickling the skin right by her mouth.

“Why didn’t you phone love? You know you could’ve gone to mine? You’ve got the keys to my place?” He mumbles down at her, his chin moving her head slightly.

“Didn’t wanna be a bother. Don’t like it when your not there,” she whispers back, her lips lightly grazing the skin on his neck.

“I know love. I would’ve been home by Friday though. You still could’ve gone,”

Y/N nods her head back, she knows that Harry has always said that his house is her home too, knows that he’s always said that she’s welcome- even if he’s not there. “Didn’t wanna go though,” she murmured.

“‘S okay my love,” Harry whispers back, “have you been in bed all day?”

Y/N shakes her head a little, not wanting to move away from the heat that Harry’s body was letting out, “Couple hours. Heat went out a little after lunch,”

Harry frowns, he knows that the time is a little after 5 so the fact that it had gone off a little after lunch means it’s been of for a little over 5 hours, which means that she’s been freezing for well over 5 hours.

“Do you wanna come back to mine love?” Harry questions, “with me this time?”

Y/N shakes her head again,”don’t wanna be a bother,”

Harry reaches up for her face, lifting it from where it was tucked into his neck, “Your never a bother love. Ever,” he states, making sure that his eyes were locked with Y/N’s as he muttered those words.

Y/N blushes. A hot red flush quickly taking over most of her face, she looks down. Moving her head out of Harry’s lose grip and back down into his neck. She smiles, she’d always loved how Harry would always take care of her. No matter what.

“You sure?” She questions, her voice slightly muffled for where she was asking her questions, “don’t wanna get it the way,”

“Your fine love, your never in the way when your with me, plus not gonna be doing anything till the end of the month anyways,” he pats her thigh under the duvet, making Y/N clench her legs together, she prays that Harry doesn’t notice that.

“‘Kay, I’ll come back to yours. Not gonna stay tho,” she added, also hoping that Harry didn’t hear the last bit. He did of course, but he chose not to answer it. He knew that she’d be staying. He sure as hell wasn’t letting her come back to a freezing cold apartment.

“Come on love, let’s get you packed. We’ll leave as soon as you’ve finished,” he stated, moving the duvet off the bodies. Y/N whined, reaching out to pull the duvet back over them. She was finally warm and Harry was just gonna let all that heat escape from the cocoon that they were wrapped in.

“Don’t wanna move. I’m finally warm H,” she wined, shuffling further down the bed so that her whole head was almost tucked under the duvet. Her head now buried down into Harry’s chest.

He laughed, the sound causing his chest to move, making her head move with it. “You’ll be fine! We’re going back to mine anyways love. Where the heating actually works,” he added, after his laughing had finished.

She whine again, seriously debating if it was worth moving out from her pillow of warmth and into the frigid air that filled her bedroom. She ultimately decided that it was obviously worth her not freezing to death and moved up so that her face was level with Harry’s. She looked at him, squinting her eyes at the grin that was spread across his lips.

“What you smiling at?” She questioned, sitting back a little.

“Nothing…” Harry’s smile got bigger. He reached down, patting her on the thigh again, “now come on! Let’s get your bag and we can go to mine,”

Y/N nodded in confirmation, moving her hand down to shove the covers off both of them she moved back a little more, letting Harry wiggle his was off the bed before she quickly followed, shuddering at the feel of the air against her skin again.

“Come on!” She urged Harry to help, he knew where everything was in her home, he could help her pack her bag so that they weren’t staying in her freezing cold apartment for any more time than absolutely necessary. She reached down, pulling her oversized- not quite duffle- bag out from under her bed.

She walked over to the set of draws by her door, opening the top one she pulled out a couple pairs or underwear – she most definitely did not pick out her favourite most prettiest ones- and shoved them into the bag, making sure that she had the matching bras she closes the draw before moving down the the pyjamas, she doesn’t know why she’s even bothering to pack any, she knows for a fact that she’s probably going to end up sleeping in Harry’s clothes anyways, she packs three pairs, just because.

Next is her choice of clothing, Harry’s already got that covered as she can clearly see that he’s pulled out her favourite pair of leggings and a pair of jeans, all folded neatly on the bed waiting for her to put them in the bag. She can also see that he’s eyeing up one of the jumpers that he’d gave her, debating on if he should pull that out of her wardrobe or not.

“Can you give me that jumper,” she asks, beating Harry to asking her and ending his internal debate with himself.

He knows exactly what jumper she’s on about, goes straight to it and pulls it off the hanger, passing it to Y/N to be folded and placed into her bag alongside her other clothes. He grabs another one of her jumpers, one of his personal favourite and passes that to her as well. He pulls out a couple T-shirt’s for her to put in the bag and closes the door. Moving to stand next to her and ‘help’ her pack the bag.

Y/N laughs, shoving at Harry’s hands and he tries to help her pack the bag, all he’s actually doing is getting in the way and ruining her perfectly folded clothing. She shoves him again, slapping his hands to get him to leave the bag alone. Once she’s sure he’s not going to touch the neatly placed clothing in the bad she moves into the bathroom, collecting up all of her skincare and pieces of makeup she wares she shoves them into her makeup bag, not bothering to pick up her toothbrush, knowing full well that Harry has one at his place.

She moves back into the bedroom, Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed, scrolling through something on his phone, when she comes out of the bathroom her looks up at her, smiling at her as she grins back at him.

“Think I got everything,” she states as she shoves the small makeup bag into her overnight one, making sure that the zip was all the way closed, she picks the bag up, throwing it over her shoulder as she walks out of her bedroom and into the living room. She picks her phone up off the coffee table, noticing that she had a text from Harry that she obviously hadn’t seen, she reads the small print, another smile working it’s way back onto her face as she reads the small letters, ‘I’m home. Coming to you x’

She shoves her phone into the side pocket on her bag, making sure that it’s in there before walks over to the front door, Harry trailing behind her the whole way. She places the bag down by the door, shoving her socked feet into her batterer boots she zips them up, standing again she notices that Harry had picked up her coat and was holding it open for her to slid her arms into, she does and pulls the coat on comfortably before she looks down for her bag, Harry had already picked it up and it was currently resting over his shoulder, he was dangling his car keys from his fingers, a smirk on his face as he looked at her.

“Ready to go back to mine and eat trashy food and watch trash movies?” He questioned her, wiggling his eyes brows as soon as he even mentioned the word movies, his smile getting bigger he more he talks.

Y/N nods her head, her own smile getting larger, “Yeah, lets go H,” she pulls open the door, grabbing her own keys off the table and ushering Harry out. Slamming the door shut behind her she shoves the key into the lock, making sure that the door was locked she follows Harry down the hallway, shoving her arm through his, he pushes the button the call the lift up to them. Standing there in completely comfortable silence, they waited. Stepping into the lift as soon as it arrived at her floor, Y/N pushed the button for floor zero, thanking God that they didn’t have to wait for other people to get into the lift with them.

Once they reach the ground floor they walk out the building, Y/N’s arm still through Harry’s as they walk over to his car, him clicking the button to unlock it he open the boot, he gently pulls his arm out from hers, pulling open the boot he shoves her bag in and walks around the the drivers side, Y/N already sitting in her seat waiting for him.

“You okay love?” He questions, looking over at her.

Y/N nods back at him, a sleepy smile crossing her face as she replies, “yeah… I’m okay H, can we go?”

Harry nods at her, he shoves the keys into the ignition, twisting them until the car starts, he cranks the heat up as high as possible, waiting a minute for the car to start heating up. Once he feels a little bit warmer he pulls out of his spot outside her flat, indicating where he want to go he start the short 25 minute drive over to his own place. Looking over he notices that Y/N was drifting off, her head rested against the car window, he body finally warm.

——————

The drive from Y/N’s house to Harry’s is over before he even realises that they were at his, he was pulling into the driveway, making sure that the gate was closed behind the car before he pulled as close to the front door as he could.

He pulls the keys out of the ignition and looks over at Y/N, who was now completely asleep, resting her head on the window. Harry looks at her, just sitting there for a minute- staring at his best friend. He doesn’t know why she didn’t call him, doesn’t know why she didn’t just come here. Harry shakes his head, gently reaching out to pull his door open. He jumps out the car, strolling round the the boot to get Y/N’s bag out. He leaves her the for a minute, walking up to the front door to unlock it and place her bag inside before he walks back out to the car.

He gently pulls her door open, making sure that he’s hand was right where here head was resting so that she didn’t nearly fall out the car.

“Y/N,” he shakes her gently, reaching over her with his other hand to push the button to release her seatbelt. She groans, reaching up and stretching.

“Did I fall asleep?” She whines, her neck clicking.

Harry nods, grasping her hand to pull her out the car and onto the ground next to him. He clicks the button on the car keys to lock the car, walking her over to the still open front door.

“My bag-“ she starts,

“‘S already in the house,” Harry finishes, interrupting her before she can ask where her bag was.

Y/N nods again. Her movements still a little slow, her body heavy with sleep.

“You wanna go to bed love?” Harry asks, turning around to pull the door shut behind them as they get into the house, still not letting go of her.

She moves her body back towards Harry, nodding her head in answer to his question, not really using her words.

“Come on then,” he bends down, picking her bag up from where he left it and walks over to the staircase, stopping before he reaches the bottom step.

“Hang on, let me just turn the heating on,” he walks over to the small little box by the living room down, flipping down the cover before turning the temperature up to something that would warm the house quickly. He turns back to Y/N where was leaning against the handrail by the stairs. He smiles at her, quickly moving back to where she was standing so that she didn’t over.

“Come on love, up with you,” he moves behind her, making sure that she was stable on the stairs as she was walking up. Once they reached the top of the he guided her into his bedroom, dumping her bag down the side of the bed.

“Lets get you changed into something comfortable love,” he states as he walks over to his own chest of draws to pull out a top that she could wear, she knew that shouldn’t have bothered to pack things to wear to bed, knew for a fact that Harry was going to give her his own clothes.

Y/N takes the shirt off Harry, shuffling her way across his floor and into the bathroom where she quietly snips the door closed behind her, she’s not bothered about changing in front of Harry, they’d done it a million time’s, she just want feeling like it at the minute. She pulls her own clothes off, dumping them into a pile in the corner of his bathroom to be picked up and shoved into her bag at some point later in the evening. She pulls Harry’s top over head head, yanking it down so it sits comfortably on her body, the top falling to a little bit above her knees. She bends her head down, lifting the top a little so that it rested over her nose, breathing in deeply her nose is filled with the smell that is entirely Harry.

She pulls the top back down, breathing in the air around her to clear her mind slightly, she pulls the bathroom door open to see that Harry was also dressed down, he’d pulled off his jumper and T-shirt- leaving his chest bare for her to stare at his tattoos- and had swapped out his jeans for a pair a sleep trousers. He looked soft, and cuddly.

“You gonna nap with me?” She asks, cocking her head to the side, staring at him- her eyes not leaving his face. Heaven forbid she stare even a little bit at his chest, her face would be as red as a tomato as soon as Harry even realised what she was doing.

He nods, walking over the the bed and pulling the duvet down on both sides, “Yeah, not for long tho. Gonna have to get dinner on soon,” he reminds her.

She walks over to what she likes to think of as her side of the bed and slides in, her body was warm all over- she was no longer cold but she sure as hell wasn’t going to resist cuddles of her Harry Styles. She waits for Harry to get comfortable before she moves over to him, wiggling down- in his so much better than hers bed- she moves so that her head was resting against Harry’s chest, listening to his heart beat.

Harry wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, he bends down, resting his own head on top of hers, breathing in the fresh smell of apples and vanilla that was her shampoo. He absolutely loved the smell of her, always breathing in as deeply as possible whenever she was around.

The phone of the other side of the room had an alarm set for a little over an hour. They’d get to nap until around quarter to seven before Harry makes them get up to make dinner of some kind. He doesn’t worry about that now though, letting out a deep breath he lets his body relax, pressing a kiss to the already half asleep woman spread across him he closes he’s eyes, mumbling out a quite “love you,” he doesn’t think that she’s going to hear what he says, let alone even remember the words. But she does.

She hears him mumble them, her heart filling with a little more love for him than it was earlier. She turns her head slightly, letting her lips drop a small kiss to the swallow that rests above his heart she mumbles back those three little words, knowing for a fact that Harry wasn’t asleep already and that he definitely hears her.

That fact is proven when his body tenses a little, those kind of confessions were definitely done when the other partner was asleep. When they couldn’t hear what you were saying, where they couldn’t respond. The fact that Y/N was able to hear every word that Harry said makes him a little- just a little- but tense. His body becoming rigid beneath Y/N’s head.

She looks up at up him, angling her body so that she could see his face- it’s not the most comfortable position but she wants to see his face. She smiles at him, noticing that his eyes were a little wide.

“You know, you don’t have to say that when you think I’m sleeping. I love you too,” she mummers, her eyes not leaving his face. She’s glad that she doesn’t look away from him, she glad that she didn’t miss his face flushing and his mouth opening slightly.

She laughs, moving again so that the top half of her body was raised, actually looking down at Harry as he laid there, “You’ve honestly got to be stupid to not be able to see that I’m in love you,” she grins, her voice teasing at him. All signs of sleep that had just filled her body were gone, her voice a little shaky with nerves.

“You know… when I said earlier that I didn’t like coming here, it’s not because I don’t want to be a bother… it’s because your not here. And it’s not home when your not with me,” she confessed, her voice just loud enough for Harry to hear.

Harry moves his body, sitting up a little bit so that Y/N falls towards him, her face smacking into his chest as he sat up. Y/N laughs, reaching up to rub at her nose before she sits up as well. Grinning up at him she settles back down, crossing her legs and shivering a little as the thick duvet falls off her shoulders and back onto the bed.

Harry looks at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar, not a single word works it’s way past his lips. He just sits there, and stares at her.

Y/N looks down at her hands, buried in her lap she can feel the nerves and self consciousness creeping up her spine. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

He nods slowly, he thinks that his mind is finally beginning to wrap itself around the fact that she loves him. She’s actually in love with him. The feelings that he’d felt for the longest time ever possibly imaginable were returned, actually reciprocated.

“You… you love me too?” He stuttered, reaching out to pull her hand into his, his fingers tightening as soon as he got a good grip, Y/N smiled down at their joined hands, moving her other hand up to run across his fingers.

Y/N looks up at Harry, her smile becoming sweet as she looks at him. Her head moves in a small nod her eyes still not leaving his.

“I love you too,” she repeats, her voice more confident than how she said it seconds ago.

He laughs, a happy, content laugh that echoes around the room, filling Y/N with her own happiness. Harry pulls on her arm, pulling her across the bed and into his lap, her arms coming up to wrap around him as his arms wrap around her waist.

She bends her her down, finally connecting their lips like she’d wanted to do so many times before.

Their both laughing, their first kiss as perfect as it could possibly be. They pull away, her head resting against his as they both grin.

“Love you,” they both say at the exact same time, another laugh working it’s way out of their mouths again.

Harry stretches up, connecting their lips together once again. This kiss is so much better than what their first one was.

She’s so glad that her hearing went out. So glad that Harry came home early, so so glad that she finially gets to be with him how she wants to. How she’s always wanted to.

She snuggles back down in the bed, this time not bothering to move her body off Harry’s, she stays where she was. Laying back down on his body, her whole body connected to his as every possible area. She shoves her head back into he’s neck, leaving small little kisses where her mouth lays against his skin.

She moves her head, laying it back on Harry’s chest, going back to listening to his heartbeat as she feels him kissing her head. She smiles, completely and utterly content in this moment.

——————

Another friends to loverssss... I really do have a thing for this prompt. I can’t stop writing them it actually kills meee....

I liked the idea of this one, thought it was kinda cute! Send me something guys! Need more ideas on what to write while I’m stuck inside for the next 3 weeks!!

Give me feedback! It’s much appreciated and loved!

Be nice and treat people with kindness!

Love Dari🌻

[soulwillower]

buttercup • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: Would you mind writing a Richie Tozier X reader soulmate AU where Richie is VERY self conscious and he finds out that the reader is his soulmate and the reader is well known and very pretty, so he’s just like djjdjfgjjcbvnfnf but once they actually meet she really likes him? :0 thanks if you consider!

warning: swearing, angst, richie being edgy and also a bit unstable (king shit), neuroatypical richie!!!, fluff, soulmate au!! <33 also sorry this may be rough, i havent edited it at all

[reader + losers are in college]

lmk what u guys think of this one,... idk LOL

4.1k words

♡

richie was about to be sick. yes, he really, really was going to vomit in approximately ten seconds and he didn’t know what he was going to do. the room, full of barely-adults chugging jungle juice was sweaty and bustling and the walls were closing in on him quick. those people who weren't in the main rooms were doing sniff in the bathrooms and blocking his pathway to heaven (the toilet) so he quickly stumbles towards the sliding-glass door.

he passes a guy who claps his shoulder and says in a deep voice, "you good, bro?"

no, no. he's not good, bro. thanks for asking, though.

as he finally breaks free of the plastic, out of the crusty balloon that was holding his body hostage, he takes a deep breath and sprawls himself on the back deck, staring up at the clouds in the nighttime sky. maybe he should go home and mull this over, before he crams it down his own throat and chokes to death, alone and broken on the back deck of a 22 year old business major's rental house.

he laughs to himself - an image which he's sure would be a full on maniacal scene to an onlooker - as he lights a cigarette with very shaky fingers. even if he chooses to give this situation some thought, he will end up being forced regardless because this is, quite literally, richard tozier's destiny.

y/n y/l/n is richie's destiny, and it makes him feel like complete shit.

you see - his whole life, richie knew about the fucking soulmate tattoos. of course he did, everybody did - it was, like, one of the first things you learn, ever. he knows that there's basically a soulmate for every person and often times the soulmate marks were different, the ways of finding your soulmate were wide and far.

for most of richie's life - actually, almost all of it up until the last month - he'd had a big, fat 0 tattooed on his arm and below it a humiliating phrase that was quite the epitome of richie himself.

yet it never changed, which led him, his friends, and his parents to determine that he'd gotten a time-counter soulmate mark, which he likes to pride himself on believing he did not give a single fuck about.

the number is supposed to count the amount of time that you've spent with your soulmate, and there's usually a sentence or phrase that's associated with your soulmate's first thoughts of you below it. and yeah, of course the first thing the lucky guy or gal thought of richie is 'wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.' pretty fucking on-brand, if richie says so himself.

so yeah, he never really paid attention to his soulmate mark - partly because the thought of emotionally opening up to someone enough for them to know his whole and true self was repulsive and terrifying enough to make him physically ill, enough for him to develop a crazy sense of humor as a less-than proficient coping mechanism for the insecurity and fear that lives in his mind rent-free, 24/7 365. but mostly he didn't pay attention to the mark because, you know, he thought it was lame.

that is, until it changed from the 0.

it happened on the first day of classes fall semester of this, his freshman year of college.

which, honestly, was a huge fucking bummer, because he literally came into contact with almost 800 new people that first day through classes, dorms, walking around campus, and the dining hall. and yet, as he got back to his dorm and smoked a bowl with bill, he'd noticed that his arm had said 00:51:26.

bill had been so excited he'd almost lifted richie through the roof, because 'holy sh-shit, rich, y-you did it!'

it was hard to believe someone was out there for him, though. and yeah, he didn't give a fuck about it, but he also kind of did.

richie, now thinking back on that day, groans a bit. if he'd just known, if he had just fucking looked at the thigh of the girl in front of him with the soft-looking grin and the alluring scent of orange creamsicle shampoo, who'd smiled a bit when he borrowed a pen - if he'd just known then that y/n was meant to spend the rest of her life with him, he could've... well, he's not really sure what he could have done.

he thinks to that moment in time, as he was blowing smoke out the dorm window with bill and giggling as he ate an entire bag of cheez-its, and how much he wanted to know who it was back then.

but tonight, it had become a nightmare when the information practically fell into his lap. he's at this house party in late september, and about five minutes ago it was just boring enough to warrant sitting on the rug in the living room and just fun enough to actually stay.

“-yeah, she said the first time you guys met was in microeconomics, right?” ben says, and richie huffs in agreement as he picks at the skin on his nails. ben was talking about her again, and richie's heart was beating stupidly hard. y/n, one of his closest friends that he'd made outside of the losers, never failed to make his heart run a goddamn marathon.

“-she told me the first thing she noticed was that you were wearing socks with sandals. and she thought that your socks were really ugly.” he finishes with a laugh and richie’s head snaps up at that. he feels chills spill over back as if he’d been doused with ice water and he gapes at ben. “wait, what?” richie shudders, the words escaping his lips quietly enough that his friends mistake it for a forceful exhale brought on by offense at the word 'ugly.'

“well she was right to think that.” stan says from behind his solo cup, carefree, as if richie’s life wasn’t crashing to an alarming and unbelievable halt. eddie giggles faintly somewhere from the floor where the losers are sitting, but richie’s mind is reeling too much for him to react to or even comprehend anything.

“rich, i th-thought i got you to st-stop wearing socks and sandals so long ago.” bill adds, laughing into his hand. but richie’s barely registering any other fucking information because he’s staring at ben, who is finally noticing his friend’s perplexed face. “you good, rich?” ben asks carefully.

“wh-er, wait. what exactly did she say?” richie asks, really not wanting to know the answer and yet wanting to know more than life itself. it can't be her. he’s getting odd looks from everyone now, but he's starting to breathe quickly and he thinks he might vomit. he kind of regrets never showing anybody but big bill his soulmate mark, because he's suffocating right now in embarrassment and bill is a little too drunk to assume what richie's assuming right now.

“wait, y/n y/l/n, right? from my dorm. she’s here tonight, she told me- oh, y/n!” stan calls, looking directly over richie’s shoulder. it happens so fast. y/n, in the flesh, walks past at just that moment, breaking out into a breath-taking, world-halting smile. richie's chest hurts worse than it ever has before as she waves and bustles over to plop herself next to richie. and holy shit, she's wearing shorts because even though it's cold out, the house is warm and richie can see dark ink on her thigh. a soulmate tattoo. he can't draw his eyes away even though his brain is screaming to knock it off because there's going to be something there he doesn't want to accept, but he then does it anyways.

he almost hyperventilates as he reads the words emblazoned on her thigh,

27:36:08 and right below it: "holy hell her hair smells like orange creamsicle"

he almost sobs right then and there as she greets him with a soft hand on his shoulder, completely unaware of their fate and richie has to stand up abruptly because he can literally feel the numbers changing on his arm as the seconds go by with y/n at his side.

and now, mere minutes later he's out here, laying in self pity as anxiety claws at every inch of his body and fear tingles on him like the slight presence of snowflakes falling on his skin - briefly he wonders if, as an older man, he'll wonder how he never got cold wearing nothing, vulnerable as he welcomes in that falling snow.

he would be totally daft not to wonder how he ended up with a soulmate like her, someone not only so fucking attractive but so kind and undeserving of a monstrosity of a human like him. she is, in every place he isn't, a complete and utter success of a person; he's a hurricane where she's whitecaps in the sea, he's loud and abrupt while she is kind and outgoing. maybe they do work well together, hell - they spend enough time on study dates outside of class for him to know that he does really like her. but richie also knows his standoffish, happy-go-lucky and untamed personality paired with his unwillingness to make himself appear vulnerable to most people will probably have a very large impact on... whatever it is that happens with y/n.

because that's really the point, isn't it?

she is stuck with him. bucky beaver, the trashmouth, mr. i-can't-keep-my-trap-shut-for-three-seconds. y/n, the most incredible person in this world, is the kind of person that was designed for richie to admire from afar, as he is so willing to suffer through. because as much as it hurts to watch her and to love her without loving her, it is a thousand times safer for both of them than the inevitable look of disappointment that will befall y/n’s angelic features when she discovers who her burden of a soulmate is.

the thought makes richie choke out a weak sob, sitting up and digging the heel of his palms into his sockets, trying to scrub out the image of himself from his brain. awful, awful, bad.

he takes a long drag from his cigarette and for a brief moment he wonders if, just maybe, she’ll love him back eventually. the thought makes him feel like crying all over again.

huge nose, big teeth, awkwardly skinny and too tall. maybe he's got nice hair, but he sometimes wakes up too late and can only brush his teeth and swipe on deodorant before he's sprinting out his dorm with his pickle socks and stan's old sandals, trudging to class and getting in the way of y/n's future.

but he is her future, after all - how can that be right?

he doesn't have enough time to take another drag from his cig as he hears the glass door open, the noise from the party bursting through the gap in the foundation of the house and sending him back to five minutes, ago, inside. he cranes his neck and can't bring himself to be surprised when he sees her, backlit from the party inside and figure in his mind standing like the only being in the world.

she thinks he looks devastatingly beautiful tonight. she loves the awkwardness in his bones, the way he carries himself with confidence although she's not sure he always really has it. he's wearing some dumb socks again as usual, though they're mostly covered by his black pants and red high-tops this time. it makes her smile softly.

she wants to know him, really know him, as more than just a classmate, a crush, a boy who's friends with stan uris from the floor above her own room. she wants to feel his large hands on her in more than just fleeting greetings, knucks to the shoulder or jaw. she wants the sharp taste of nicotine and mint from those life savers he was always sucking on in her own mouth as he holds her tightly against him, she wants to know everything about him and be with him, even if they aren't somehow destined to be forever. which, she thinks with an array of wild animals tumbling around her chest, they might be.

after all, someone at this party is her soulmate, and she's almost 99.8% sure it's richie. it gives her the most beautiful butterflies she's ever had, even when he stares at her from the deck with glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"what’s up, buttercup?” is all she says, in her mind because he's stunned her to near-silence once again by just existing, and in his mind because she is the most perfect being.

he doesn't respond despite being completely charmed by her, because he's breathing in the nicotine and its making his fingers twitch and even though he's sober by now, he thinks he may be tweaking a bit, mostly from the overwhelming set of information that just smacked into his face when y/n walked over into that room.

he watches as suddenly she's dropping herself so she's sat next to him, her legs swinging off the edge of the deck. she eyes his cigarette. "that's so unhealthy, rich." she says softly, teasing but with a lacing of truth behind it that really makes richie itch to never smoke ever again in his life. but he's a stubborn ass, so he instead takes a deeper drag, maintaining eye contact. he can feel one tear slip from his eye and he feels so fucking melodramatic as he does so, but he's at the lowest he's been in a while, so he gives himself a bit of credit.

she reaches out and pulls the cigarette directly from between his lips, sending him a pointed look as she presses it out on the finished wood of the deck. he wipes the tear away when she's not looking. and as she turns back he smirks, unsure what else to do, as he blows the smoke out of his mouth towards her face.

"hi, toots." he says in what he hopes is a normal tone, despite his blotchy and tear-trailed face. she blinks her eyes owlishly at him but just shrugs, "you left a little prematurely back there. what, do i smell that bad?" she jokes. no, he thinks, you smell like orange creamsicles.

it's bittersweet, the irony in her statement. because he knows that she probably knows what she smells like every day, as it's literally tattooed right on the meat of her leg, on display for her and whoever else lucky enough to find themselves being acquainted with the skin of her upper thigh. the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

maybe if he were feeling a little less in-the-dumps, a little less like a complete and utter disappointment and failure that ruined this sweet girl's life, he would have ribbed her back a bit. you know, grind her gears in typical tozier fashion.

but he's exhausted and so distraught that he can't bring himself to even look at her. "i'm not in the mood" he grumbles, his heart pounding. she frowns, tilting her head.

"okay, what's wrong, richie?" she asks, and it's in that caring voice that she uses that isn't pitying but simply solicitous in nature. her calming force on him is obvious and immediate and his teeth stop rattling around in his head

he wants to scream because she's burning warm and perfect while he's frigid cold inside his body; a wasteland full of broken slinkies and half-formulated 'your mom' jokes that are melded to the crust of him with the tar that's been sucked straight from those damn ciggies. for crying out loud, if he were to so much as touch her, she'd get corrupted.

she notices as he scoots a bit away from her, and her heart hurts. he's so upset, clearly, and yet it hurts her that he can't trust himself or her enough to open up; no fault of his own surely, but heartbreaking all the same. "i care about you, and i really want to be here for you." she says it like there's going to be more, but the words kind of die in her throat as she realizes the extend of her words.

holy shit, she thinks, i'd go to the ends of the earth for him. if richie asked me to, i think i'd probably kill the queen.

"i stubbed my toe, and it really hurts." he says then, and the absurdity of his excuse makes her laugh out loud, head tilting back towards the moon as the bubbly giggles tumble from her lips. she looks at him after and his face is a twisted mix of affection and utter pain, a combination that hurts her to her core but lights a fuel in her that makes her want to help him.

"it's true." he mutters, motioning to his shoe limply, and she looks at his foot, the tip of his converse scribbled in sharpie with the word 'half-brain' and then a bunch of hearts.

"i like your socks." she says absentmindedly, grinning at him as she says it, voice teasing. but the reaction she was hoping for was nowhere to be seen as richie suddenly heaves a hiccup-sob, one so upsetting and quiet that she thinks she misheard it.

but he's keeling over and clutching his face with his hands, shaking his head, and her heart breaks. "richie, honey please tell me what's going on. or i can just sit here, if you'd rather-"

her sentence is cut off with richies own rushed words, expelled from his mouth so quickly that it's almost as if they were trying to escape while his lips tried to hold them in.

"-you're going to have to spend the rest of your life trying to force yourself to love me, and that terrifies me.”

as he says it, his stomach twists itself inwards at his admission and he thinks he's going to be sick. he doesn't deserve you, you're going to resent him for it. she's silent for a few moments, and he doesn't dare look anywhere near her as tears trail down his solemn cheekbones and drop onto the black corduroy that wraps around his jittering legs.

"richie, please, what are you trying to say?" she says quietly, sounding scared, nervous, upset... richie did that. it's his fault. he tilts his head back, his brain buzzing in guilt. "fuck," he says, and it comes out broken, "you... i- you're my soulmate." he says, looking down to where his chest rises and falls almost unnaturally, a consequence of muscle memory being tampered with by the lethally college combination of nicotine, alcohol and marijuana on an empty stomach.

earlier he was afraid that if he opened his mouth too wide he would lose control of his tongue and then the words would come out without him wanting them to, but he knows he's basically sober by now, as sober as y/n is next to him - he's just neurotic, but he doesn't want her to know that, because oh god, what if she hated him for it?

she wouldn't, right? isn't she supposed to find a way to love him?

this was a really stupid idea, but in his mind it was one that had to be done. shutting his eyes, he tugs the sleeve of his left arm upwards, taking a shaky breath. again, it's silent as she reads the words written there. wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.

she stares at the words, and the number above it, then she looks at her own thigh, where the exact same number counts on in time with his.

he wastes no time, though: "-don't worry, doll. i've got it figured out, we can just- maybe we can get yours covered and you don't have to think about it anymore. fi-find someone better, like, oh, bill - he'd treat you nice i think. just- we don't have to think about it, i'm sorry." he says in one breath, not looking at her at all.

"richie, how can i be yours if you're not mine?" she says thickly because she's fighting off tears wondering how someone so incredible and full of life could feel so undeserving.

"you can't want me, you can't." he insists, not looking at her as she gapes at him because if he were to look at her expression he may lose it. it's quiet again in their own little world here, the air silent and numbing as y/n takes a breath.

"oh my god, wait richie how are we this stupid?" she asks, perking up and lightly slapping his arm. he looks at her in shock as she begins to laugh, "we've been alone together so many times. how did we not notice?" she asks, and he chuckles a bit, shrugging.

"maybe we're not the sharpest crayons in the drawer, toots. all i'm sayin' is that i figured it out first." he says cheekily, and secretly both of them are shocked to see how quickly they fell together, as if the knowledge that they were made for each other made all their insecurities fall away.

her face softens again. "you know, i saw my timer counting tonight and i was hoping more than anything that you'd be here. that we'd be-" she adds softly, a hand landing lightly on richie's thigh, sending licks of flames up his body. she takes a breath and restarts. "do you know how fucking bad i wanted it to be you?"

and just like that, y/n unintentionally provides a luscious mix of words and tricks that fill him with barely enough confidence to let him bet when he knows he should fold.

what's life without a little risk?

he meets her eyes for the first time in a few minutes and hers are large and hopeful as they wait patiently for him to give her something. but he still can't speak without running his mouth, so instead he cups her cheeks. her lips part slowly and he stares in awe at her raw beauty, unable to hold it in longer.

he presses his lips to her quickly and to her it feels like he is trying to prove something. it makes her heart soar as he comes alive against her, pressing as enthusiastically as she is into him. he tastes, as she'd guessed, like nicotine but mostly like a mint and it makes her grin as he pulls back.

"is this okay?" he's asking then, his thumb soothing over her cheek sweetly and giving her the same butterflies she gets when he smiles; the very same butterflies that release when he says anything to her, when he comes to her dorm for a study date with two red bulls in his hand, and when she realized their tattoos beat the same.

"yeah, of course." she whispers against his lips, the feeling of his teasing lightly making her sniffle. she presses their lips together again, this time warmer, more comfortably and his hands move to her hips and tug her closer, her hands winding to his neck as his own hands explore her body, caressing her sides gently. he pulls back and holds her softly.

"your hair smells nice." he says sheepishly, and she grins so widely she thinks she may split in two. her heart flutters as she looks into his eyes, finding nothing but love. "orange creamsicle, huh?" she asks with pink cheeks, and he laughs lightly, nodding his head. "best smell ever, babe."

"you make me happy." she says it onto his lips again, and the shiver that runs down his spine is a feeling he wouldn't mind feeling forever. his heart soars because he believes her, he trusts her. she wouldn't lie to him.

"we're so dramatic, aren't we?" richie jokes, his walls sliding back up a bit, but as y/n cuddles into his chest, head against his beating heart as she presses kisses to his neck, he realizes she accepts him.

"yeah, well. we're made for each other, aren't we rich?" she asks gently as his hand falls to brush over her thigh, right over the words. "that's right, toots." he says softly, looking down at her hairline softly, still in disbelief that it worked out for him. she turns to look at him, cheeks dusted a bit as she leans up to press a kiss on his lips.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​ @simplesammyx​ @dickology64​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro​ @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs 

[hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little]

Voicemail: Part 3

Hawks x reader 

A/n: I swear I am alive, I'm just getting my shit together for college. Anyways have my half-assed attempt at a story plot. I stopped here because I'm going through sad hours and that was really going to affect the rest of the story if I continued, I mean it still might be i’m not sure. No clue how gently I feel like being to everyone's feelings for the last chapter (don’t worry I make myself suffer too).

Part 1

Part 2

-Part 3-

Part 4

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“Not alive at least. They never come back alive.”

Hawks may not have been in the facility anymore, but he could still hear the words through the speaker. After all feathers weren’t the only thing he inherited from the avian species. In-fact, a lot of predatory bird-like qualities were passed down to him, none of which were proving to be any aid.

Endeavor exited the facility talking to some of the other heroes who were caring for the two children. He looked towards the clouds watching the desperate hero who was barely able to flap his wings in a steady momentum to keep him airborne. Twitching here and there causing his flow to stutter. Feathers puffed up clearly agitated, but some others sharpened to a dangerous level. It was truly a pitiful sight. From the looks of it, Hawks was nowhere near ready to calm down. Hands were shaking while switching from clenching to unclenching, desperately wanting to hold on to something. Nail marks were indented in the palms of his gloves. Anxiety and agony evidently overriding every morsel of reason that survived up to this point.  His eyes never stopped searching, gaze switching from place to place as light-speed. Endeavor could practically taste the burning red rage sourly seething through Hawks every movement. But, nothing Endeavor could say would bring Hawks from his agitated state. He had to let it fly its course. Only then would Endeavor be able to pull him back to one of the agencies where they could recuperate. 

Lucky for the heroes, they had detained all the henchmen left to guard the facility. They might be able to strangle some information out of them. But, it was kinda strange that the main man would leave them there knowing that the heroes were en-route. However, as Rumi noted, leaving those men there perfectly diverted their attention from the escaping vehicle. A smart move on the abductors part. 

The League was pretty pissed about the whole shebang. Torturing the earlier captured men in a more gruesome manner out of pure rage. In doing so, one of them squeaked about some sort of airport. Oh, now those two were in even deeper shit. Dabi was nice enough to inform Hawks about this new information though. Calling him over for a nice group beating. 

“That’s all I know swea- ack” 

Smack!

Blood splattered the ground, painting over old splotches littering the place. 

Crack! 

One of many bones to be shattered but the blunt head of the bat.

“I’ll ask this one for time- What fucking airport?”

Silence. 

Crack!

“Hawks, the guys’ gonna be dead before you get an answer, or at least a feasible one,” Dabi grunted. 

“Fucking hell,” Hawks cursed, slinging the blood dripping bat to the side of the room with an echoing thud as the wood teetered from end to end until it settled. Hands shooting to clench his golden locks in an iron grip. He squatted to the floor, head hanging low, trying to fight the urges of a predator whose prey sits before them utterly helpless. 

A scarred hand grabbed Hawks’ shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Hawks shifted his head slightly, just enough so that he could eye Dabi's own eyes from the side. So many emotions swirled within those baby blue pools of fire. Remorse, agitation, worry, and so much more, all together forming a dangerous poison. A poison which would make poor souls scream in agony for death. Something Keigo would be glad to provide. 

Now the two might now get along most of the time, but when facing a common goal, they are not a pair to be trifled with. 

The men in the chairs started struggles in the ropes that tied them to the splintering chair. Pulling hopelessly with all their might, but to no avail. Dabi and Hawks shifted their eyes to the bastards in front of them. 

The hand, not on Hawks’ shoulder, was raised to the man's face level, resting inches away. Smoke began flaring from Dabi’s scared palm, small blue flames flickered around the heel as it heated up. The heat alone was enough to singe the man’s facial hair. Terror welled in the man’s expression as the hand was brought closer, making him whimper.

“Let's try this again.”

Horrid fumes of burnt flesh swirled throughout the air. The man was a tough one to crack, Dabi knew he would come around, he just needed a little encouragement. They got the information they wanted him. Hawks had pity on the bastard, taking a feather, slitting his throat with one quick slash. The other man could do nothing but watch as his comrade bleed out.  

“Don’t worry pal, my boss has plans for you.”

No matter how much he tried to scream all that would come out was muffled sludge blocked by the gag. Dabi, patted his ashy hand on the man’s head before walking towards the door with Hawks following on his heels. The man’s thrashing only increased as he door slammed closed, leaving him with the freshly fried corpse of the other one.

“What’s the plan from here?” Dabi asked.

“If they wanted to sneak on the plane unnoticed, they would have to do it at night, when no one else could potentially spot them.”

“It's a private jet though.”

“Yes, but the guys said it was being held with other private jets.”

“Whatever, your dumbass logic gives me a headache sometimes.”

Twice popped out around the corner where they were talking.

“Please don’t screw each other in the lobby.”

“Twice, what the hell. I would rather set myself on fire.”

Hawks gave Dabi an offended glare. Dabi in return rolled his eyes, walking away from Hawks. 

“Just hurry up. Go get your boy scout in line and save her already”

“Who said I was doing this as a hero?”

Dabi halted, back facing Hawks. A smirk tugged at the corners of his charred lips as his eyes darkened. 

“You don’t have the balls to fly that far from the nest bud. Your stupid heroes commission the only things you truly value in society.”

Hawks glared, but held his tongue. Dabi glared back with just as much hatred taking a couple of steps back towards the winged hero. 

“That damned heroes commission seems to be the only thing you seem to stay faithful to.”

“What the Hell does that mean?” Hawks squawked.

“It means you are more likely to leave her for the vultures before ignoring your duties to those shitholes. Oh, wait a second, that's exactly what you did.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Really now? So let me get this straight, you didn’t push her away, become a complete asshole to her because of them. Hawks at the end of the day all that matters in that brainwashed head of yours is that shitty organisation.”

“Shut up.”

“Fine, let's pretend that it wasn’t the commission pulling the strings. In that case, you are a really shitty person. I mean, you ARE the reason they're in this mess to begin with.” Hawks’ blood ran cold, Dabi gave an exasperated chuckle “What makes you think she even wants YOUR help?” 

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh how you harm me with your words.” Dabi mocked 

“Who’s fucking side are you on? Where the hell is this coming from?”

“Let’s be clear about one thing, birdbrain, just because I want her safe doesn’t mean i’m on your side. You fucked up. And that guilt is only because you feel responsible for her kidnapping, it isn’t because you’re disgusted with all the shit you put her through. So listen when I say-”

“No, you listen here, asshole. Do you honestly think I can't see the damage I did? I am not making an excuse for my behavior, looking back I can see how fucked up I was towards her. I was blessed with an angel, I had never in my life been genuinely cared about. I had never been so committed to someone, so attached to another person. Someone who felt the exact way as I did. It was terrifying.” Hawks paused face falling downwards, scrunching up to fight away the tears building up. “I didn’t have the balls to face her as time went on, so I did what I did best, I put up a front and moved forward. Avoiding our relationship, avoiding her, just because I was scared of commitment. I never bothered to think about the effects it might have had on her. I’m a real douche for doing it and I know it.”

“Shame what it took for you to figure that out.” 

There was nothing sympathetic in Dabi’s tone, no, it was as sour as biting into a ripe bitter melon. Hawks said nothing, he was right after all.

“Go home Keigo. You're not welcome here right now.”

Dabi watched as Hawks turned and walked to the door. Waiting till he was about to close the door on his way out to let out one final stab.

“Oh and Keigo,” Hawks paused “when she’s safe, hope she realizes you’re not worth it.”

SLAM!

Dabi was pretty sure Hawks broke some of the hinges when he shut it behind him.

“Bastard,” He muttered, clearly not into Hawks’ delinquent behavior. Dabi stomped off to the bar to talk to the others about what to do next.

What the actual fuck, Hawks thought as he took off into the dusk set skies. Yes, he knows he screwed this up, Dabi didn’t need to rub it in anymore.

Taking out his phone, Hawks shot a text to Rumi informing her of the newly found information. It was always kind of surprising that no other hero ever questioned where all his exclusive information came from, but oh well. Hawks went straight for the place, not giving anyone time to regroup and set out a plan. It didn’t do much good last time and he wasn’t willing to risk it again. He had an hour or so before the moon set in place, if he was lucky he would make it there before anyone else did. 

Wings soared through the clouds as he scanned the area below, searching for the facility. His sights locked onto a large gated perimeter, surrounding multiple runways connected to a couple of buildings housing the aircrafts. It was one of the many private airports in Tokyo, a place where the rich kept their collection of aircrafts. Hawks descended to a large window in the center of the middle building in the facility. The place seemed to be more of a showcase then anything, some of the jets looked like there were fresh out of manufacturing. 

The place looked empty, no sign of any life in the facility. If it wasn’t for his abnormal vision he would be able to see anything in the pitch black room. No gates or doors were open,  no runway lights shined behind him, no unusual vehicles were in sight. So either he beat everyone here, or he’s got the wrong place. 

He was about to take back off into the sky when he spotted a jet that matched the description the man gave him. A sleek black metal covering, twelve square windows spaced evenly on each side of the jet’s middle, matte silver nose, blood red paint rimming the edges of the wings. It was big enough to carry a small army. The jet seemed a little out of place next to all the smaller, more compact aircraft.

It was clear the jet had yet to be tampered with. They must be waiting till the moon was at its highest to hide their escape. If that was the case they would be there for another hour or so meaning Hawks could have a look around the place. Maybe sabotage the plane enough that it might not function properly. 

Using a feather Hawks carves out a circle into the glass, just big enough that he could fight through and not get stuck. The tricky part was putting the glass back into place so that the bastards weren’t suspicious of the giant whole in the window. But, he managed to do it with only a couple of close calls.

Though he was alone, Hawks still had to be careful nonetheless. Fingers felt around the side of his goggles in search of the night vision button. However, a glowing group of infrared blobs that only grew bigger by the second appeared in his sights. With great haste Hawks hide in the cramped empty space behind one of the two stairwells one either side of the balcony of the window. The tight squeeze forced his wings to fold into uncomfortable positions against the base of his back. 

It stopped right outside the giant corridors leading out to the building runway. While his the blurriness of the image made it hard to fully make out he counted seven or nine of the now van sized blobs. The one in the middle was to first to make any sort of move, a panel sliding to the side as figures exited the vehicle. Others to the right and left followed suit. All filing out into the open, crowding to the center one. Though all the bodies it was he could barely make out a body hauled out onto the ground next to boxes gathered for the other vans. His attention was so zeroed in on the limp body that he didn’t notice the dozen or so figures heading for the corridor. 

CREEEEAAAAK!!

The heavy metal scraped against the asphalt as it was forcefully pried open by the figures. They didn’t fully peel the doors back though, only enough so that a couple of men could head in. About six men entered the dark area, flashlights swinging around in search of anything intruder. Hawks scrunched farther into the wall, missing the beams of the one of them by millimetres allowing him to go unnoticed by the men. The continued their inspection, not very thoroughly Hawks noted, until they each gave a thumbs up signally to the others nothing was out of place.

“All clear,” One of them yelled out behind.

All six men then approach the designated aircraft. Hawks wanted to bang his head on the wall from his own stupidity, since he chose the staircase opposite of the plane. 

He let out a quiet hiss of frustration; “dammit.”

Biting the inside of his cheek he started trying to devise a plan. Maybe, just maybe, he could sneak some feathers inside to take them out. So he did just that, sending one feather for each man and one extra just in case. 

The men had clearly let their guard drop as they focused on their tasks. He had no problem maneuvering the feathers around them as they worked. Two men were in the cockpit, two in the carriage, one taking storage in the backroom, and the last of the six was making his way to the single bathroom of the aircraft.

The man made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his pants before pulling out a phone and doing some unspeakable things that made Hawks want to vomit in his tiny corner. The poor guy had no clue that he was going to be the first to go, Hawks literally caught the bastard with his pants down. A mental note was made to just leave the dagger in his chest, after everything he just witnessed with that feather there was no way he wanted it back in his plumage. 

One down, five to go and next up was the storage guy. A feather hovered right above the back of the guy as he checked off boxes on his clipboard. Moving forward, but still sticking to the wall in order to give the feather a better angle to slash his neck. However, the bright colors contrasted with the white wall, catching the attention of the man.

“What the fuc-”

Swish

It sliced through the air, not giving the man any time to process the situation. Hands instinctively flew to his throat in a pathetic attempt to stop the life escaping him. Bright red blood seeped through the cracks between his fingers, leaking down his front as he wobbled on his feet. The harsh thud of a body crashing to the floor never sounded through the air as the feather slipped down the back of his shirt to guide him quietly to the ground. Once he was laid out noiselessly on the now red stained ground the feather took off to regroup. 

They all stayed as flat as paper against the slick interior of the plane, making sure never to be in the line of sight. Three feathers arrived at their next destination, the passenger section. The two men were just goofing off. Neglecting their assigned duties in favor of gossiping like highschool girls. Hawks could help the twitching of his upper lip, sharp canines baring each time the muscles spasmed. Sexist comments were slurred back and forth between them as they talked about his dove. Feral instincts screamed at him torture them till they were pleading for death. But, he needed to keep his composure or else risk getting caught and that was not something he could really afford right now. 

The feathers slithered down the aisle when the assholes turned their backs to one another. One feather took off to lock the cockpit hatch from the outside, making the two on the inside unable to interrupt Hawks. Both the men were facing the side wall of the aircraft making it easy to string two feathers into position to swoop up and dispose of them just like like the now rotting corpse in the storage compartment. 

Swish

Hawks really wished he could have prolonged their suffering, but he had more important matters to worry about, unlike those sexist bastards. Oh well, he would just have to be sure to spit on their corpses later. 

The last two in the cockpit worked to get the carrier up and running. Hawks could hear them from the two feathers locking inside with them as they ran their diagnostics. Just as the feathers were about to capture their lives the roaring of an engine coming to life sounded throughout the facility. Blinding bright headlights buzzed on pointing to the corridors as if asking to be let out. 

CREEEEAAAAK

Hawks peered over the corner of the wall hiding him, he saw more men pulling the door fully apart to make way for the giant aircraft. With all the new lighting Hawks had to turn off the night vision mode on his goggles so he could see. Through the orange tint of his lenses he could spot [y/n]’s limp body laying on her side facing him through the legs of the surrounding guards. Her whole body looked as though they just threw her to the asphalt from the van door.  A grimy brown sack covered her head that hung to the floor slightly supported by the shoulder on the ground unnaturally scrunched up by her neck. He could see the raw skin surrounding the bonds tightly wired around her bare wrists. What really unnerved him was the slow unsteady half-rise of her chest every so often. He doesn’t know if it was due to the bag covering her airway or the utterly traumatized state of her body, but it wasn’t hard to tell her lungs were starting to give way. There was no way in Hell she would make it through the plane ride. She needed medical attention and she needed it fast.

The shifting of wheels brought Hawks out of his panic as the aircraft propellers spun around in place,  making the plane go forward ever so slightly. It stopped one it was centered with the doors in the front of the facility. If he slashed his feathers upon them it would surely arm the onlookers. Eyes once again shifted to the body of his dove.

Helpless. He couldn’t make a move without stirring up their attention. And if they threatened her, there wasn’t even a sliver of a chance he would make it in time. 

TING

The sound echoed out from his pocket. The phone vibrated letting out another sound to alert him of a notification. 

Hawks’ heart dropped to the ground as everything around him moved in slow motion. Heads took their time spinning in his direction when in reality they snapped his way in milliseconds. 

He didn’t have time to look at his phone as bullets flew his way. Faster than ever, he took to the air, dodging the oncoming hellfire. Since all was turning to shit, the two cockpit feathers slashed the hell out of the men inside with zero mercy whatsoever. Using some spare feathers he sent them lashing at the tires preventing their second escape. He’d rather be plucked for everything he was worth before letting them get away again, especially not when they were so close.

His earpiece rang to life as he wound through the air. 

“What the fuck is happening” a harsh feminine voice that sounded like Rumi screamed from the other side.

“Shit hit the fan, send help.”

That was all he could say before getting nailed in the right shoulder. Wings stuttered in shock, but adrenaline pushed them to keep flapping. 

“Hawks!” She called.

He could barely hear her through the blazing bullets piercing through the air.

“Heading….. Minutes…… Endeavor…… Way.”

Static cut out sentences leaving him with only a couple of words from the other line. He didn’t have time to decode the meaning though.

In the midst of frantic maneuvering a blast of fire hit the window behind him sending him flying forward as a bullet lodged itself in his right thigh.

“Friendly fire!” He screamed behind him. 

Now shit was really hitting the fan, Hawks thought to himself as he looped through the new hole created by none other than Endeavor. He made his way to the top of the building, the roof partially deflecting some of the ammunition flying at light speed. A new wave of confidence gassed his system with the brigade of heroes quickly approaching from behind.

“I know I annoy you, but do ya really need to fry me right now?”

Endeavor only grunted as he landed next to the winged hero, Rumi was soon to join them. The bullets had ceased to pierce the air for a moment, Hawks could hear the head guy yelling at his underlines like an abusive dog owner. Naturally they tried to retreat to their vehicles, but found the tires were lacerated enough that they were rendered useless. The yell turned into hushed whispers. 

All heroes crowded up onto the roof, hastily devising a plan that would hopefully let them safely extract the beaten girl. Time was ticking fast as two beautiful lives were draining from the mother's body every wasted second. They needed to make a move and they needed to do it now. 

“Fuck plans”

“Hawks don’t be rash” 

Endeavor could get fucked by fire for all Hawks cared. He was going in sending flocks of lethal feathers to shred them while he used the remaining feathers to take to the sky. 

It only escalated from there on. Quirks were activated from both ends, but the heroes had to be careful, they may have the upper hand power wise, but the enemies had a hostage. Hawks could see his dove start to stir among all the commotion, but his attention was quickly redirected as a first sent him flying into a wall.

In the midst of the battle one of the lackey’s managed to discreetly snag [y/n] and a couple of the packages into a small aircraft. All which were messily tossed into the back of the cargo compartment before jumping in the control seat. All engines were a go and it was off to the runway from there, splattering some of his comrades into the pavement on the way. Hawks wasn’t having it though, redirecting all of the feathers slashing around to chase the jet as it wobbled in the sky.

“Your feathers are going to do jackshit, GO!” Rumi encouraged, no longer holding back. 

That was all he needed to hear, as he darted to the air, targeting with pinpoint accuracy.  The door of the storage holder on the side of the jet cracked open. Opening more and more as the pilot tried to steady the plane in the sky. The jet lagged in the sky as it swerved to the side making package after package plummet out. Hawks was tailing the jet, but the pilot kept taking sharp turns to try and lose him. 

Hawks spotted [y/n’s body starting to slip to the edge of the open door. One final turn from the unsteady jet was all it took to send her descending into the air. Hawks immediately dove after her, wings tucking flat to increase his speed, arms stretching out towards her, hands ready to snatch her at the first given chance. 

The ground was approaching uncomfortable fast. [Y/n] was just out of his reach, fingertips brushing against her own. 

His wings gave one last flutter against his back, pushing him just far enough to reach her forearm. Hawks latch his hand onto her arm hauling her into his arms before spreading his scarlet wings in an attempt to catch in the air. A hiss passed his lips as the opposing velocity strained the muscles at the base of his wings. 

Just before the hit the ground Hawks caught his bearings, letting them at least land somewhat safely. He stumbled on the turf, the hand that wasn’t holding [y/n] shot out to the ground where he keeled making sure to not fall over onto her. They landed a mile or so from the gates of the airport. 

BOOM!

Hawks watched as sparks erupted from an explosion a little ways from them. Looks like the poor bastard couldn’t fly after all.

His breath was heaving, the adrenaline of the situation still pumping through his body. Lifting his hand from the ground he untied the rope holding the sack over her head, pulling it off, freeing her beaten face. Scarce breaths passed through her cracked lips. 

Hawks was quick to let the rest know he had her. Endeavor let out a sigh of relief through the otherside of the line. Rumi yelled with happiness. When asking about her condition, he was hesitant to say anything, only saying that he was rushing her to urgent care immediately. 

Weakly she stirred in his arms, whimpering as her bound wrist rubbed the harsh unforgiving rope peeling her already raw skin. Hawks plucked a feather, slashing her wrist and ankle constraints, finally setting her aching limbs free. Tears welled in his eyes, partly because she was now in his arms once again and partly because she was suffering in his arms.

“Shhhhh, baby bird, I’m gonna get you some help okay?” 

He couldn’t tell if she heard him, but he wasn’t going to bother waiting for a reply. Wings spread behind him once more, screaming at him from pure agonizing torture they had already suffered. Limbs burned, fire setting every vein ablaze with even the slightest of moments. 

All it took once one more heart wrenching soft cry passing her lips to get the adrenaline rushing again. No wound or pain could hold him down as he flapped his wings aggressively through the thin air. He kept staggering up to the clouds and low to the ground. It was definitely not his smoothest flight, but it was doing the job. She was held securely in a tight embrace against his chest. One of his hands gently caressed her cheek with the thumb in an attempt to pass her his wordless love. 

Some of the feathers started to give from those once giant eyes. Every feather lost was another piece of [y/n] drifting to the light of eternal rest. She was a rose that was slowly shedding its abused petals, wilting from the mortal world. 

Hawks could see the hospital in his sights, in his moment of overwhelming relief he almost hit the ground, but luckily he was able to bring them both up just in time. 

White doors slammed over as a body crashed onto the hospital lobby tile. The receptionist rushed over to the counter spotting the hero, wings clings around his front to cushion their landing. Looking at the lady in scrubs he lifted one of his wings revealing the beaten woman he cradled to his chest. The lady screamed for help as doctors and nurses flooded the room. A stretcher was brought in as [y/n] was carted into one of the back rooms, nurses flocking the stretcher trying to assess her state. 

A separate stretcher was brought in for him. A light smile graced his face as he watched them take care of her while they hauled him onto the cart. One of the nurses was trying to ask him questions, but he paid them no mind, only watching his dove.

The smile quickly faded as he saw more doctors dash to her room, panicked expressions present on each of their faces. He tried to stay awake, he tried to hear what was going on, but the last thing he heard was a doctor yelling one word that echoed in his ears even as he lost touch with reality.

“CLEAR!”

Then everything went black.

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Also I want to thank you all for reading this, it makes me so happy. I literally cried at all the love you all gave the first chapter. I wish I was kidding I actually cried.

TAGS:

@assassinslittlesister @anxiousgoddest @moonpawss @regularkacchan @austriasmariazelle @murkyrosewrite @hawksexual @imuziawi