#like why does my body have to act like its dying every month

[sk3l3t0n444]

i would like to sit in the fetal position and cry at the moment

[luvly-writer]

XOXO

Ch. 19 Every corner of this house is hunted

-•-

Author's note: There is just something so satisfying about writing angst while listening to sad music. I'll try to not break your hearts too much. Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @grandstrangerphanthom @1lellykins @cangosleepnow @dreamspectrum @its-maemain @tamimemo @nightw-izhu @trasshy-artist @gabriiiiiiii @cassini-among-the-stars Masterlist:

-•-

"What?" Tim was taken a back by what I said, "What do you mean over, Y/n?"

I take a deep breath and exhale, it is a little shuddery. "This entire thing, Tim. Our ruse of being a couple, it is over. We can end it. We aren't tied to each other anymore. We won, right?" you say

Why does it feel like I'm losing then?

"I don't understand," Tim said, "We-"

"We were never a couple, I know, I know, it was just acting jaja! I know that, silly! I..Ok let me clear thing's up. We are done acting of course, you don't owe me anything anymore, you know. You are free too! I mean um, I um, ok give me a break" I panicked. Of course. Y/n don't be dumb. He knows you weren't a couple. He was just acting. He didn't see it the same way I did..

"Do you want to come inside so that we can talk about this better?" He asks concerned.

"No! It's okay, I...uh... have to go, so I..let's.. make this quick. I um, Tim...Thank you, for helping me. You didn't have to, now knowing you better, you could have gotten out of it and found a loophole easily but you still chose to go through with this..with me. Thank you, I have never had so much fun with someone in my entire life the way I did with you and that will always always mean something to me, you will always mean something to me...always, Timmy, and we won, Tim. We won. I am free and OH! So are you! I made sure to delete all the files on you know what and it is all clear, I can bring you my laptop and you can check I have nothing on it. You can finally say it, I am no longer holding something over your head, and we won, Timy, we did a great job, frankly we made a great team and-"

"Wait, wait wait wait, Wait! Y/n Vanderbilt is this you saying goodbye" he said incredulously, "Cause if it is, you are being a real shitty person right now and I know that's not who you are. I know you."

"I don't know," you say dejectedly, "I don't want it to be, Timmy. I appreciate your friendship way too much for me to say goodbye. I lo...I...I care so much about you and want you to be in my life, any way I can have you"

"Anyway?" Tim said, hope in his heart. The last few weeks have been fucking hell if he were to be honest. He missed her. He missed her scent on his clothes, on his sheets, on his apartment. He missed her touch, her caresses. her lips, her hands on his. He missed her so much that he thought he was dying. Dick and Jason like to call him lovesick because of how much he was moping. It's funny how two months can make someone become such a strong part of your routine. He missed talking with her before going to sleep. Whether it was by phone when she was in her apartment, or in person when she stayed at his, the point is he missed her voice. He had come to terms with how much he loved her after Christmas and was so happy to tell her because he thought it was reciprocated. The way she looked at him, their connection, their conversations, their inside jokes, their trips, the movie nights, it was real. He was a little grateful they hadn't had sex yet...he wasn't sure he would be able to recover if he ever felt her body on his and got to explore and adore every single part of her and then have it taken away. He felt it was real. It was real it had to be. All of that for her to be finally here, frankly he thought she was part of his imagination at first. He had been having so many dreams of her that he couldn't believe it was her at first until she started talking and shattering his heart...but she said she'd have him any way she could right. Ask away, Y/n, I am yours, utterly, completely, from head to toe, from heart to soul, mind and body...please ask.

"OH!" Fuck..He is thinking of a relationship and the way he opened his eyes is telling me he does NOT want it... "You know what I meant, Timmy, as friends! I mean if we can't fake date, why not stay friends. I haven't been able to connect with anyone else like this ever and I...well...you are my first friend who has been such you know a friend! Of course" She said nervously. Dig a hole and bury me in it. I don't want to deal with this..

"Of course, yeah, no no, I definitely got you. Cause you know, you are right, of course" He said sending her a tight smile. "It's alright, we are alright. You know we will always be alright." He says as he feels his chest tightened. Of course. Of fucking Course. She wants to be friends. "This won't ruin us, Angel, I'm still here for you"

Y/n smiled, "And I'm still here for you, you know"

Do you hear that? It is the sound of two hearts shattering. Y/n nods, holding her tears back and whatever is left of her dignity. Tim looks up, holding himself together enough to not show her. They both know the other person is not okay. But would they cross the line? She takes a step back and whispers one soft see you later and gets on the elevator. Tim watches the doors close and closes the door. He places his back on it and slides down, breaking down because fuck his heart hurts and he feels like he is suffocating. For once, he is not drowning himself in work, for once he won't turn to cases to numb the pain. For once, he just wants to let the pain out and feel it because God damn it, she is not his, and every fiber of himself is hers.

Y/n walks back to her car and once the door is closed, she just lets it out. All of the pain, all of the yearning. Her heart is entirely his and she will have to settle for just friends. What a time to be alive. The great Y/n Vanderbilt was brought down all because she liked a boy. Her driver had the decency to give her the privacy to mourn the feelings that do nothing but grow. She gets to her apartment, tears still rolling down the apple of her cheeks. Once inside, she drops all of her stuff and preps a hot bath. She soaked in it, crying until she felt numb. Tomorrow she was going to call the girls, she needed their company.

—•—

Week one:

It had been a week since Tim and her broke their agreement. Everyone close to them knew the truth of it already. They had both made a public statement that they had "broken up" but remained best friends. The public had shared their sentiments, after all, the most beloved couple in Gotham was done. There was no bad blood they assured from both parties. Clara and Satine stayed for a few days and let her mope for a little. Classes were starting soon and she needed to get it out of her system. Dick had assigned everyone to do a routine check-up on Tim. They were taking care of the cases, Wayne Enterprises, and patrol. They too were letting him get it out of his system.

Week two:

Classes had begun. Y/n, having something to distract herself began her routing as usual. Wake up early, eat breakfast, go to class, exercise, do homework, meet with contractors for her new gallery, call Mom, call Aurora, call Charlisse, call Grandma, call Dad, play tennis with Clara, have lunch with Satine, dinner with whoever invited that day. Everyone seemed to be on high alert on trying to take care of her, but she insisted she was fine.

Tim had gotten back to Wayne Business, still not cleared for patrol yet. His secretary, and elderly woman who used to work for Bruce, looked at him with sympathy, it was as if almost everyone did these days. He had been back on taking pills to get his sleep schedule checked again. He had moved to the manor for some time per Alfred's and Bruce's request so that they could make sure he was eating and getting better. He insisted he wasn't a child.

Week Three:

The first time, Tim and Y/n saw each other. She was exiting the same coffee place where they had met. They smiled at each other and made small talk. They never did small talk. They knew the most vulnerable points of each other, they never did small talk. Tim swore she gets more radiant every day. Y/n claims she never noticed how intoxicating his perfume was.

Week four:

They crashed into each other whilst Tim was going on a run through Gotham Central City Park. Satine had taken Y/n to do a yoga session in the park. This time the conversation was less small talk, a few jokes were exchanged even. Has her laughter always been such a melody? Have his eyes always been this blue?

Later in the week, he called her by mistake. They went 3 hours talking on the phone about everything and anything.

Week five:

They spent 4 days in a row talking on the phone at least once a day. He knew her schedule by heart and she knew his patrol route as if it was the back of her hand. Why does talking to you feel like a breathing air after being underwater for too long?

Is it because my lungs are filled by my love for you?

Week six:

They finally made plans to have lunch. The paparazzi caught them and everyone is speculating and hoping for them to get back together. Someone pointed out that the two of them haven't erased their pictures together. Neither have the guts to delete them, neither want to.

They have been seen together more often. Y/n's mother is convinced it is because they are meant to be. They call each other on the phone more often. Tim called her when she was having dinner with Satine and Clara. They both wiggled their eyebrows at her and teased her. She insists they are just friends and is just happy to have him back as her friend. "Friends, my ass" "SATINE!" "She's not wrong."

Why is is that when something happens, you are the first person I want to tell?

Week seven:

He crashed at her place after one rough patrol. They spent half of the night laughing. He was helping her with some of her homework. The way the light hit her eyes and illuminated her face stole his breath away. Have your lips always looked so soft?

She was so close to kissing him quite a few times. His smirk when was able to help her with something successfully made her dizzy.

I'm yours and I'm fine with that.

She finally visited the manor, everyone was elated to have her back. The entire day, everyone was witnessing how obvious and oblivious they were. When are you both coming to your senses and seeing that the love of your life is right in front of you?

That night, as he was walking her to her car, he mentioned that the Wayne's were having another charity ball. He invited her family. It would be their first official appearance as "exes who are now friends". That night, she said yes and kissed his cheek goodbye.

—•—

extras:

One thing Y/n always wanted for Tim was to take care of himself emotionally and that meant feeling his actual emotions instead of analyzing them and shutting them out. He honors her by doing exactly that

He literally worships the ground she walks on, don’t know if you guys have noticed.

Everyone is trying to get them to realize that they are meant to be but they don’t see it. Bruce and William even started to do business together so that Tim and Y/n would realize that they belong together. They are dumbasses cause they didn’t think it through (Tim is not focused on that and Y/n doesn’t want anything to do with the family business). They are dumb your honor, but they mean well.

Aurora, Charlisse, Grandma Margaret and her mom have been throwing hint after hint on how Tim is the perfect fit for her and there is no one else. Charlie and Aurora even got their husbands on board.

The batfam is trying to make a plan for them to get back together. Damian actually came up with the idea because as much as he denies it, he is a child who cares for his older brother and Tim has not been as witty as he normally is so it bothers Damian because they don’t have their normal banter:

[bloodbound-twins-blog]

Butchers Cabin Masterpost:

“You have stumbled into a lair of blood smeared walls and scattered bones. A place where the echoing screams of long dead victims cry out. The horrors are replaced with the sweet smell of…Meat Pies?

Tread carefully my friend or you will end up like the Rest…”

Hey there, @puppet-strung-moon Mod/Strings here! This is my (Genderbent) Bloodmoon/TSAMS AU RP/ASK Blog! So let’s get down to business and introduce the Twins!

Bones:

She is the hooded one, slightly shorter and chubbier than her sister. She does most of the hunting purely to get some exercise and because she doesn’t have the patience from baking as her sister. She is the stronger of the two and can be quite brash but they’re learning to think every once in awhile.

Bones uses She/They Pronouns

Bones text is like this

Mutton:

Mutton wears the jester cap. Mutton is taller than Bones and handles the baking of their little treats in their cabin whilst its sister goes out to hunt for more ingredients from their meat pies. Mutton is the Calmer one of the two, hence why she handles the baking. She actually enjoys baking it gives her something to do since it cannot hunt like they used to.

Mutton uses She/They/It

Mutton’s text is like this

How this Blog/AU Works:

So in this AU, Mutton didn’t die but simply went offline to make Monty and Foxy assume she was. Bones knew she still lived because their connection was not severed but it was faint. Once left alone, Mutton turned back on and scampered out of the Plex (after fixing herself up and stealing a few datachips nanites) while Mutton was in hiding, Bones but on one hell of an act for the passing months after her sister’s ���death”, until it all came to ahead with the final showdown and Moon/Nexus trying kill Bones to bring Solar back, Puppet gets involved and “erased” Bones. In actuality, Bones had given Mutton a chip and plans for a body if they were to die. So the moment Bones “died” she would awake in her new body.

Now these Bloodtwins live in the woods in a quaint cabin, making meat pies and selling them. They still kill people but they’ve mellowed out a bit since essentially “dying again”

Rules: Be Respectful, Have Fun, Don’t Start Nothing. Won’t Be Nothing.

Important Tags: Butchers Cabin (General Stuff), Marrow the Mod (for me), Meat Pies is for occasional Food/Vampirism/or Blood/Gore related stuff

ASKBOX: OPEN [ALWAYS]

[ethernetmeep]

here is a summary of the days events:

horror. horrible. death. decay. misery. slight exaggeration for the adjectives. worried the whole day, no time given to relax. nowhere to go but continue onward. certain derogatory term is muttered twice. discussion of politics. i am afraid of dying. i am afraid of my rights being taken away again

try to stuff down the odd, indescribable feeling besides the vague term ‘agony’— works for another hour. illusion of neutrality soon dies. ring, call failed. call failed. restart phone. call fails. call finally doesn’t fail. asked why i am crying before i actually am. back & forth.

i end up back where i was, on the cold tile floor. its calm when nobody else is around, but i do not have this luxury. people pass me. i hear muttering. absolutely petrified of shuffled footsteps made possible by either slides, slippers, or long pants that extend to the floor. depends on the clothing structure. terrified of it. keep crying, even when i try to force of will my eyes to stop. hand covering side of face, turned to auditorium doors. two people come along to ask me what is wrong— one a past professor, another a man of.. odd relations. gave me the dune book. i tell him i do not wish to speak to anyone in that moment. he gives me a fist bump, reaches out to have me reciprocate i mean. i make a “beep” noise of recognition to the shared act once done. main reason i could not speak is because i did not know what exactly was wrong with me or what upset me besides the entire world feeling like a nightmare.

the system of events in the district is constricting, which does not help. you cannot go here, you cannot go there. you cannot stay here for too long or this person will be upset. i am angered to have to show my emotions to another human being i would rather not show my emotions to, but i am glad to be out. the car windows are up.

when it is only me & one other person i mumble my truth, of events i was reminded of. cried. the world is quite unfair, or maybe it is fair and i am sharing a modicum of others’ pain. if so, it is petrifying how long it lasts. i admit something i rarely admit to others, at least upfront: i am afraid. i am afraid, & it is stupid, but i am afraid.

i proceeded to go to my bathroom mirror and try to tweeze out a bump near my eyelashes. i stopped after a few attempts, primarily because i do not want to accidentally ruin my vision in my right eye forever. i am laying down under a white blanket. i do not know what i feel. i asked my friend if over their month break our event of going to see a movie has a plus one, to get an answer of no. oh thank god, oh thank fucking god. i would rather get every nerve ending burnt aflame and my body desecrated than experience that torture again, was essentially my thought process

at least i had my horseshoe crab plush with me….

[mejomonster]

Mysterious Lotus Casebook, ep 2:

So I really like Joseph zengs character. He gets better at acting each show i see him in. I love Fangs personality

Fang really did follow this doctor to his tiny mobile house and said You're Having me at Dinner, I brought drinks, work with me, drink with me whether you like it or not, my shifu is like xianyu and my uncle was the guy he died for (that lianhua is relentlessly still searching for the body of). ;-;

Fang also said your cooking sucks, my case here was kept private so fuck you help me More, also I can't actually pay Even though I'm used to being a rich bitch, I hero worshipped li xianyu, I saved your life TWICE DUDE do what I say (you can tell he's used to getting his little way uvu), and "I ran from an arranged marriage I'm not made for politics feel bad for me, i was made to bring justice to the world and make a name for myself~" and li lianhua hit him back with the "-.- I couldn't give a shit about your sob story or anyone's, I'm not looking to be heroic I'm just trying to mind my business dude."

He saved li lianhua twice that's so fucking funny to me. So like, I had a running count once of How Many Times wu xie swooned in dmbj dramas (lmao you can guess how BIG that list got) and how many times xiaoge saved him (if you guess once per episode that's probably the rough average). So it is. Particularly funny to me that wu xies actor is now the guy chronically saving another damsel. I hope fang saves li lianhua at least once per episode! Fuck it, I love twice per episode why not continue that! I want li lianhua falling in his arms repeatedly, nonstop, to the point its expected. I would very much enjoy that trope (and letting Joseph zengs character get to be the savior in said trope more uvu)

It's also funny cause wu xie was a prickly kitten of a damsel in distress. Whereas li lianhua is adamantly acting like he was NEVER about to die in the first place. There's mm... there's probably character details in there... something to be said about li lianhua not afraid of dying, or emotionally heavy enough he wouldn't mind getting to after 10 years of not dying from a poison when he Should Have and a mortal wound when he Should Have. Idk about other people, but when I got really chronically sick and I was in the ER almost dying a lot for months. Mm. It got to a point where I was like why can't my body just hit me all at once and let me live or die like when I got appendicitis, why does it have to be hurting me slowly and I just have to bear it and it's slow enough I have to get up and fight it every day and it may never end. And it's like I dunno, I see in li lianhua the ghosts of those kind of feelings. Maybe. We'll see I guess if it gets that emotionally heavy. Back to the point though, I find his character interesting and different than sifeng (which again I really appreciate lol)

I just. I love Joseph zengs character in this

I like the episode structures so far??? It feels like 2 parters, which helps to break up watching. And it seems it cheapened out on wasting time on some scenes in order to spend more time on case plots, which I think is a good choice

My gay rating? Not as gay (yet) as Word of Honor or Lord Critical World. Though reminding me of both shows. (Lord Critical World is WILD BTW and full of dmbj actors so I highly recommend it for a Weird Time). It is however striking me as having the potential to have as shippy vibes (at minimum) as Ultimate Note. Which I mean. I'm optimistic I guess?

Anyone else beyond refreshed to see a real dog instead of a cgi animal in one of these shows?

I'm curious how closely this follows the novel. Because I'm quite liking the show. If the novel is Just as good or better, I'll definitely be checking out the novel.

I am l...doubting it's intentional, but li lianhua's whole Setup feels VERY modern ordinary man, despite the wuxia setting and him being The Best Heroic Swordsman ever 10 years prior (and the Miracle Medicine Man/smart liar now). Despite the very belonging to this genre Character Setup, cheng yi plays him like a modern ordinary 35 year old, and a lot of character Details just strike as. Very relatable. Having a dog you share dinner with, living in a small mobile home (ultimately), having your own little garden (and budget being tight), trying to learn how to cook because you have to make good food for Yourself, lying to protect yourself in a shady environment (rather than playing Brazen Hero who picks a fight like one expects in this kind of shows hero type), been sick a long time and in no way in their prime anymore (even though he's relatable to me thats also lol just generally relatable to anyone who's aged and realized they can't be The Best at sports anymore or something), focused on people he loves now and being roughly fair instead of Saving the World (a very relatable goal and one I feel like a lot of people gravitate toward as they age: you don't always keep believing you personally will be a superstar or billionaire or save the planet on your own, and while it's awesome if you still do, you also start realizing you're satisfied to also just make sure your loved ones are supported and your local neighborhood has a food pantry you support and you get invested in what you can do today right now everyday to help in little ways).

[throbbingwish]

I wrote a long post ranting about my loneliness and longing for the basic romantic connection I have never gotten, and of course it decides to error and not post so now my whole blog seems horny and weird. Yes I may come off as a horny loser but in reality I am extremely lonely and depressed, and that stupid paragraphs long text block described all that I was feeling at that moment and in general (but of course the dingus decides to not post, anyways...). If only I was prettier then I would be seen as weird and cool instead of off putting... if I was blue eyed and pretty, with pale skin, then I would be worshipped. But because I'm not either ugly or insanely pretty, I'm seen as an invisible plain jane who if I do something slightly similar to others then I must be copying them, even if I had the idea first- even if it's barely similar at all- even if I made sure to not copy others and held myself back from doing things I had wanted to do in the past, I held it back for months or even years just because someone else did it when I was just about to. And of course I am also seen as a fucking weirdo creep. Great stuff! If I ever made people uncomfortable, or was seen as a creep, I would kill myself! And that's a large statement considering my biggest fear to exist is death. I cling to this guy that I'm not even sure I really like, just because he has a few good qualities and gave me attention. It feels like I have a crush on him, but I'm not sure. Either way it doesn't matter, he probably does not like me. He may be nice and funny, have beautiful blue eyes and dark hair, but his film taste is atrocious. Also he doesn't give a shit about me, and probably likes that pretty girl who everyone from his group has liked apparently. Of course since I dyed my hair months or maybe even years after this girl might I add that means you have to go behind my back and be like "oOh ShE dId It FiRsT" I KNOW!! You really think I would be copying a girl that I have literally never had a single conversation or even interaction with?? Plus, its a completely different shade too! It would be different if she did it the day before I dyed mine, but no, as I said it has been months maybe even a year! Just because she's prettier and you all have a crush on her doesn't mean I'm copying her! Either way, back to the topic, I'm so fucking lonely. I seek attention in every body. My crippling abandonment issues cause me to cling and then simultaneously push people away with my desperateness, my anxious attachment style stresses when people don't respond immediately or if they act slightly different, I either think people are in love with me if they interact with me once or they hate me and think I'm a creep. Maybe its all a reaction to loneliness, never having anyone (except creeps who go for any girl) like me when I have been growing up and even up to now, not even having my first relationship, watching everyone around me falling in love or having crushes on others and just sitting here wondering what's wrong with me and why can't I have that. To be cursed, someone as romantic as me never gets and probably will never get any love or affection, even on basic levels. Don't you know how painful that is? Either way... I better do that stupid thing I forgot about...

[d3nt4l-d4m4g3]

A few days ago, I emailed my former professor about a paper on women’s food practices in the middle ages. At least, that’s what I told him it was about, initially. 

But actually, I wanted to discuss heresy. This professor teaches a women’s rights course every year. Every year at the beginning of the class, he calls attention to why he, a man, is talking about women’s rights. He looks us in the eyes and says, no one else is doing it, and I’m sorry it’s me.

This man made us read the SCUM manifesto, Gerda Lerner, Maria Mies. He grazed the subject of the Lesbian Sex Wars, delicately, so gingerly, posing the question: “Can sex work ever be just work?”  And my  (all woman) classmates, generally mute—in a Women’s Rights class, they all seemed averse to saying the word “woman,” at all. Then one woman raised her hand. and she said, “Sex work is real work.”  A statement that, as I hope you know, is a deflection and a discussion killer.  

At the time I was non-binary. Hah. I submitted a comic at the end of the year of my final project. My thesis for that project was this: the very language female people have to use for themselves was constructed by the patriarchy. for example, the english word “vagina” comes from the latin word for “sheath”. so the vagina invokes the act of penetration upon its utterance. Whereas the word “penis” has no clear etymological root, implying that it is original while the vagina is constructed for him. Why should I carry the fact that I will always be a tool, the hole, of the human that is man? My solution, at the end of the comic, was to continue using they/them pronouns, to shield myself from the horror of being a wo-man, a s-he—an appendage of Him. 

I got a good grade. A stellar report. And it wasn’t a bad comic, for what I knew then. For my condition of blindness and deafness. I made a compelling argument, using sources from class.  But oh, how much older I feel now. I’ve always felt old but now I feel almost like I’m dying. Like I don’t have enough time to fix the world before I disappear. And women’s stories never survive. They are not surviving. networks spring up like mycelium and then every century at least they are burned. Witchcraft is in the air shared by women in a room of their own, and witchcraft is doused in gasoline.

I don’t have enough time to explain how the veil lifted for me. Maybe I forget the big moment. the days after were a blur of searching the no-no tags like radical feminist, GNC, gender critical. Amazed at the wealth of journals that these women linked to with real statistics showing that children are being sterilized for no reason. Mostly gay children. like me, a lesbian, who now lives in a house with three  “non-binary afabs”. This summer, one of these women, who I have known since freshman year, will start taking testosterone, a procedure I took up  for three turbulent months during my freshman year of college. I get to watch her become what I turned away from, knowing the experience fractured my sense of self to a point of  terror and estrangement. I get to watch her hide from her problems and cut herself off from womanhood the way I did for 3 years. I am not a woman, so do I not feel Woman’s pain, she is telling me, I told myself, when I was in a dream.  She has so many problems, she laughs. But trans is a separate problem that has nothing to do with those other problems. A coincidence.

 (For any trans people reading this, you may think: This transtrender fake-trans never-was-trans woman is treating these nonbinary people as if they were dead! as if they weren’t happy people finally living their truth! —well. I put my mom through the process of trying to convince her that I should have always been a man. and I did lose her, for months. For her it was the height of cognitive dissonance that I should want to go on a life-altering hormone to cure my lifelong social awkwardness and self-hatred and self-harm and depression. And I blamed her for not accepting my real self. I was basically made to shun her and my family because of transphobia.. It is disrespectful to anyone’s sanity and integrity for me to perpetuate that cognitive dissonance in this post.)

So I eventually got through to the professor. I knew because of the texts he had us to read for class. He is gay.  He has read all the theory, and lives by it.  And no (woman) student wants to speak to him. To bring the theory alive. They cannot breathe into it and it sits dead in his mouth.

Maybe it is because he is a man. because the presence of one man in a space of all women immediately sends up alerts.  lockdown. Certainly that is the case. Radical Feminists here: I know he’s a man. But I don’t have a woman. And I felt on the strength of the texts he’d given us that he would be my best bet. Maybe somewhere in the corrupted, rotting heart of my college there was a person who knew about thoughtcrimes and was thinking them anyway.

My professor starts with diversion. He starts by talking about my paper. I find it disconcerting that he starts that way. I worry that he won’t want to refer to my email. Where I say: I have woken up from a dream to the apocalypse—Does this man think I’m crazy? Chipper and kind of frantically, he lists off  primary sources of medieval nuns and women saints. for my paper.  Does this man think I’ve turned into a bigot?  Am I confessing lunacy, like a flat-earther?

But I steer the conversation to the meat at his first tentative encouragement. I tell him something like: “children, mostly gay children, a whole generation of gay children, are being sterilized. Porn is a symptom of late-stage capitalism—men’s ownership of women’s bodies. trans is an extension of this. I was part of this. I was in a cult.” I was shaking a bit. I don’t think I’d uttered those words out loud. They sound crazy. Some of the things I said did sound far-fetched. disorganized, remote. But I prayed that my professor would believe some of it, any of it. 

 What I will say is that he believes me.  Thank fuck, right?

He tells me something along the lines of this, vocalizing my fears: 

that all of academia is being scrubbed of anything that doesn’t support Trans.

And it is trans-identified female students and women who are reporting him to Title IX, who spend all their time in his classes fuming at the lack of validation for trans women in the  history of women. My sisters, footsoldiers for the cause. What cruel irony. This man is holding onto this class by his fingernails, speaking through his teeth, hoping any of the twenty young adult women staring blankly or angrily at him will hear him and listen.

 Looking back, the professor’s responses to my emails are vague, completely refusing to acknowledge a point of view other than “WOW. I look forward to discussing this.”  I think he thinks he could be blackmailed. Anything he says on gmail dot com can and would be used against him. It’s like, really, really, really that bad. 

No ideology should involve a cultural cleaning of women’s history feat. witch hunts. 

I will end here with an excerpt from my first email to this professor:

I'm sure you know what a total bummer it is to realize this. 

[therenlover]

One Last Night In Madripoor (An 18+ Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Tags: Smut, SoftDom!Zemo, Hook Up, Semi-Public Sex, Drinking, Safe Sex, Explicit Consent, First Meeting, Wall Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 4200~

This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!

---------

Madripoor was a place like nothing you had ever seen.

It wasn’t that the sights were anything special. You could find seedy criminal underbellies lined with neon where the streets ran red with blood anywhere if you looked hard enough. Even the ocean view didn’t do much to set it apart from any other place visually. No, Madripoor’s scenery and architecture weren’t what kept your eyes wide with wonder whenever you found yourself wandering through the winding back-alleys without a purpose. It was the people that kept you around.

Thieves, pirates, and miscreants had been taking shelter at the docks since before anyone there could remember. It was a city borne of the underbelly of society, the people nobody sees, but you saw them. You saw them every day when you stood in the main market waiting for an easy bounty. There were faces everywhere; big and small, tall and short, scarred and flawless. No two people in the streets of Madripoor were ever exactly alike. If you needed to remember someone, their unique face was right there waiting in your mind.

After living on the island for almost 6 months, most people were already cataloged neatly in your mind as friend or foe. This man, though, he was new. He was different.

The night was still young. There was some trouble at the Princess Bar that ended with Selby dead and a few murderers loose in the streets with a price on their heads, but you steered clear. Going after the killers meant going up against hundreds if not thousands of trained bounty hunters and assassins and no amount of money was worth dying over now, not while you were so close to freedom. Instead of chasing your doom, you decided to head to your room, get dressed up, and head out to wherever the music was loudest in search of a place to forget about your problems for the night. The thudding sounds of poorly DJ-ed club remixes led you to Leonardo’s Place. That’s where you found him.

You were two drinks in and sticking close to the wall when he stumbled into your line of sight. What initially caught your eye was his dancing. He couldn’t move for shit. What kept your attention, though, was his face.

There was transience to him, like at any moment someone could bump into him and he would disappear without a trace at their touch. Despite that he was gaudy. Everything about his clothing screamed wealth and fine taste from the thread count of his obnoxious purple turtleneck to the shine on his boots. He was strange, a walking contradiction, and one who had never had the pleasure of gracing your presence or screwing you over in the past. In the simplest of terms, he intrigued you. With nothing left to lose you downed the last of your cocktail and made your way to the gap in the crowd where the stranger had staked his claim. It was game time.

“You come here alone?” You asked. Your voice was barely a whisper above the heavy thrumming of the music.

He gave you a long look up and down before answering as if he were trying to size you up. Something about having his gaze linger on your body made your heartbeat soar. “I’m not looking for company,” His accented tone was gruff but left a sliver of room for reconsideration. You took the chance. What could go wrong?

With as much tact and grace as you could muster you let yourself slip a little closer to him. “What, do I look too expensive for you?” you teased, before backing off with a grin, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not here for that. My job is a little more… dangerous.” As you danced, the hem of your dress rode up your thigh just enough to reveal the knife holster in your garter belt. It pleased you greatly to see this handsome stranger do a double-take; that meant he was looking at your upper thigh in the first place. “I just liked what I saw in you… do you like what you see in me?”

Somehow, your little joke had endeared him to you, however minutely. Instead of brushing you off the man paused his jerky dancing for a moment to really take you in. Then, he caved. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.

You smirked. “Who would I be if I turned down a free drink from a handsome stranger,”

He met you in the middle as he offered you his hand. “I never promised it would be free,”

So, the two of you found yourselves at the bar, bodies leaned into each other and away from the rest of the sweltering crowd as the bartender slid you your order. The stranger was drinking a brandy straight while you opted for a sidecar. It was enough alcohol that you were starting to feel pretty buzzed, but you still felt in full control of yourself. You took a long sip before speaking. “So, what should I call you?”

It took him a moment to respond but once he did, he seemed sure of himself. “You can call me Helmut, but Baron is fine as well,”

You cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that a nickname?”

“More of a title,”

He took a drink as you gawked. “Like royalty?”

“Not like. I am,”

Your cheeks flushed. The rational part of your mind was so stunned by the ease with which Helmut lied that it seemed to short circuit completely, leaving you very puzzled and more than a little intrigued. “Well, pardon me, Mr. Baron. What’s royalty like you doing in a place like this?”

“There are plenty of reasons a man like me would have business here. A woman as beautiful as you, though… not so much,” he waved his hand in loose gestures as he spoke, “Why risk your life and beauty for this? A life living in the underground where you cannot so much as dream of seeing the stars?”

You finished your drink in one large swig. It burned down your throat but you relished in the pain. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be born in a place where we can see the stars. Funny enough, though, I’m just about to get out,”

“Is that right?”

“I finally saved up enough money from small jobs to buy my way out from under the Power Broker’s thumb,” Something about the way Helmut smiled at you made you feel safe. It was like you could tell him your worst, darkest secrets and not feel an ounce of fear or guilt. “I’m nothing special here, a small-time bounty hunter, and I kept it that way for a reason. I’m not valuable and I don’t know much. If I just pay my dues and keep the money coming until I can get their claws out of my back, I should be free to leave with a freighter tomorrow morning,”

Helmut was quick to respond. “Ah, travel by freighter. It’s terribly dangerous to be a stowaway, you know? Impossible to predict quite what the seas will be like,”

“Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take to get out of here and stop… what was it that you said I was doing? Risking my life and beauty?”

The two of you chuckled as Helmut took one last drink to empty his glass. Then, the conversation stilled. Around you people were alive, gyrating to the music as their pulses thumped to the beat, but it was like they weren’t even there. Instead, your whole being was focused on the strange man in front of you who had stolen away your sensibilities with his cool tone and thick accent. He made you feel alive. No, more than alive. Every color was brighter, every sound was sharper, every sip of your drink was crisper. He was a once-in-a-lifetime man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime night. Oh, to hell with it!

“I like you, Baron,” you purred, pressing yourself close to him. His breath hitched the moment you touched him. He acted as if it had been a very long time since he was last touched like that. “And I think you like me too. In fact, I think you like me enough that we should take this conversation somewhere a little more private. What do you say?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his gloved hand made its way around your wrist, and in a moment’s time, he was pulling you across the crowded dance floor towards a small, secluded hallway. You assumed that meant yes.

The instant you made it to the shelter of the shadows Helmut was on you like a man starved. One of his hands was quick to explore the skin just above the hem of your dress as the other pressed against the wall, caging you in and holding you as a more than willing hostage to his affections. He didn’t kiss your face, and you weren’t complaining about that, but he did put his mouth to good use sucking a dark bruise into your collarbone. His ministrations only stopped when a high, keening sound escaped your lips.

“You like that, don’t you, meine kleine schlampe?” he growled through gritted teeth. Something about his tone turned your already weak legs to jelly. The second you went limp in his grip, though, he pulled back. Straightening himself out, he offered you a steadying arm. You took it without hesitation. “I’m terribly sorry to be so rude. I assure you that I am not usually the type of man to hook up with someone on a whim, I’ve simply been… indisposed for many years and haven’t had many opportunities for pleasure, especially not with a woman as beautiful as you,”

His compliment was enough to have you blushing like a schoolgirl. You had killed more people than you could reasonably count, and probably fucked even more, but something about the way Helmut looked and sounded and acted made you feel almost innocent to his advances. He was a drug and you needed to get your fix before he disappeared forever.

“Does that mean you think I’m special?” You asked, all doe eyes with an innocent smile. Helmut ate it right up.

“Yes, schatzi. Very special,”

You hitched a leg up, letting your heel dig into his expensive dress pants and drag him closer to you once again. “First your little slut and now your little treasure? Which one is it, Helmut?”

“And so smart,”

“Move, Baron!”

At your insistence, Helmut was on you once again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck as he fiddled with his gloves, yanking them off and shoving them in his back pocket before he continued. “So demanding,” he chided, and yet he continued to lavish you with affection, his hand climbing higher and higher up your thigh. Your back was pressed flush to the wall now, and you were painfully aware of just how warm Helmut was. He smelled like a rich man’s cologne and yet his skin tasted of cheap soap when you leaned in to give him a bruise of his own.

“You love it,” you replied. He let out a husky laugh.

“I suppose I do,” he chuckled, and then his fingers brushed over your core. Your knees buckled. Helmut kept you upright with his body as he continued to taunt you through your underwear, but he seemed more confident now, almost cocky. “My needy schatzi, have you no patience?”

Your response was breathless; a confession.

“Not with you,”

Something about your words lit a fire in Helmut’s eyes. In an instant he had your leg hiked up while he ground his hardened length against your clothed wetness. Your mind went blank. He felt big. A mindless whimper fell from your lips.

“How do you want me?” Helmut asked. As he spoke he ran a light finger down your elevated thigh. You offered up another whimper. “I’ll need you to use your words and tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” His tone had you wet enough that you worried you were dripping.

With a gulp, you managed to fumble out the words. “I’ll blow you first if you promise to fuck me,”

That had him grinning like a wolf. “Perhaps you are my little schlampe, so eager to get down on your knees for me…” And you were. Even on shaky legs, you found yourself happily falling to your knees as the Baron fumbled with his fly. It was only then that you found yourself gazing down the hall towards the cacophony of lights and sounds and people maybe 20 feet away from your hiding place in the shadows. As if he could sense your discomfort, Helmut paused. “Are you alright?”

You nodded quickly. “I just forgot we were out in the open for a second,”

“Do you want to stop? If the location is the problem, I would gladly pause so we can find a new hideaway,” he stopped short, looking down and meeting your heavily lidded gaze, “or perhaps the idea of putting on a show excites you?” Your heart jumped out of your chest. Helmut noticed. “Well, if my little schlampe is so keen on putting on a show, she should get a move on,”

That was your cue to get to work. In a swift motion, you finished unzipping his fly and shifted his boxers, letting his lovely cock spring free. It was a pleasant penis and far as they went, average in length but thick with a leaking purple tip at half-mast. Just looking at it made you clamp your legs together.

Slowly, you gave a tentative lick up the underside of his length. He felt heavy on your tongue in the best of ways. Helmut jerked upward, a man possessed. You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a long time, huh?”

“Less talking, more working little schlam-” you cut Helmut off quickly by taking most of his length into his mouth. That seemed to shut him up. His wolf-like grin had dissolved into a slack-jawed mess the second you started to suck him off. Oh, this was going to be fun.

For the most part, the Baron let you set the pace, bobbing your head and taking as much of his length as you comfortably could, but after a short while his hands were buried in your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your throat, hard. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, Helmut pulled away.

“You are an angel from heaven, schatzi,” he groaned, pulling himself slowly from your mouth as you got your first good deep breath in a while, “but a deal is a deal, and it wouldn’t be quite fair if I got to have all the fun, now would it?” Your breath hitched in your throat. Finally time for the main event.

Helmut was surprisingly gentle with you as he offered you a hand and helped you back up, only pausing to wipe a line of dribble off your chin with his thumb. With anyone else, it would have felt wholly humiliating but with Helmut… well, it did things to you you would rather not admit. You quirked up an eyebrow, though, when he got on his knees in turn, mirroring your past position. “What are you doing, Baron?”

“I simply assumed my sweet schatzi would enjoy a reward for taking my cock so well,” his words had you biting your lip as your cheeks flushed, “now be a good girl and take what I give you. I want to hear those pretty noises you made earlier,” With that, his face disappeared under your skirt. He pulled down your panties and… snickered?

“What now?” you groaned, squirming as his hot breath hit your exposed nub.

“You’re sopping wet,” he replied. Out of habit, you moved to shut your legs but found Helmut’s large hand was holding them open. “I do enjoy being sandwiched between your thighs, but you shouldn’t hide yourself from me. Take your pleasure. You’ve earned it,” That was when he began his assault on your folds.

You had been with plenty of partners over the years, all with varying proficiencies when it came to giving pleasure, but no one had ever made you feel quite as good as Helmut did while you gripped his hair and rode his face with reckless abandon. He always hit just the right spot, alternating between sucking on your sensitive clit and running his rough tongue in sloppy circles against it. In no time flat your pleasure was building toward’s its peak as your knees trembled.

“Helmut,” you squeaked, “Helmut I’m gonna cuuuUUOH!”

You were suddenly thrown over the edge of pleasure as the Baron worked you open with his fingers, pressing that spot inside of you just right. It was a revelation. Nothing would ever compare to him and you hadn’t even fucked yet. Once you had regained some semblance of stability he emerged from his place between your thighs, face slick with your juices, wearing the expression of a cat that got the cream.

“You make such lovely sounds for me, schatzi,” Helmut groaned, rising from his place at your feet and reaching into his pocket. While he fumbled for a condom you took the time to actually remove your panties, lifting one shaky leg at a time before balling them up and tossing them on the ground. You could grab them later. Or not! In all honesty, your ruined undies were the last thing on your mind as your watched Helmut roll the condom onto his proud cock, pumping himself a few times. “Now, are you sure you want this?”

You had never felt more sober in your whole life despite the drinks you’d downed earlier.

“God, yes,”

“Wonderful,”

He caged you into his body once again, lining himself up on your slick folds, and then with a pronounced bite against your collarbone, he was entering you. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, you just felt full, like a missing piece of your body had been completed. For the first few thrusts, you were too blissed out to really take note of anything around you, but once you tuned back into the world of the living you realized Helmut was talking. Well, babbling was more like it. He seemed to simply be speaking his stream of consciousness into your ear as he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. There was a jilted rhythm to it, but the abnormality kept you on your toes.

“I won’t be letting you go any time soon, schatzi, and definitely not on some dank freighter like a rat from the gutters. No, you will travel with me. Once I help my friends and slip away from the front lines I can take you anywhere your little heart desires. Paris, Vienna, Australia… Mein Gott, what a sweet cunt,”

Any sane woman, after hearing his sex-drunken musings, would have run. They would have heard the wild ramblings of a madman and left after their little fling was done to never see him again. It was only rational. He didn’t even know your real name. Sane women didn’t run away with strangers claiming to be barons they hooked up with in a seedy club selling stolen Van Goghs in a hub of the criminal underworld.

The only thing was, though, that you weren’t a sane woman.

You were a killer, a child left in the streets to live or die who had scraped themselves together and dragged themselves towards life. So what if the idea of some rich mysterious benefactor with a good dick coming in to save the day sounded fantastic? It was fantastic. Like your own personal version of Pretty Woman. Even if he wasn’t as rich as he claimed to be, being poor and getting dicked down by him was better than being poor and alone.

For just a moment, and with no regrets, you let yourself get lost in the fantasy and just let go.

It was as if Helmut could sense a difference.

“Are you close, little schlampe?” He gasped, letting his thrusts take on a faster staccato rhythm.

You could do little more than moan and nod as he pounded you into the wall. That seemed to be enough for him to get the message, though.

“What a good girl,” he purred. His mouth was so close to your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh with each heaving breath he took. As he chased his own climax, he brought a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight, wet circles around your clit. It was already sensitive, your body was only barely recovering from your first orgasm, and yet something about the overstimulation was thrilling, like racing towards an impossible dream. With a shout, you came for the second time, melting into Baron Helmut’s arms as he quickly followed.

The two of you stayed there, slumped against the cool wall and still connected by your dripping sexes, for a few moments, breathing heavy. Surprisingly, you were the first to speak.

“Wow,” you breathed, letting a soft laugh escape your lips.

Helmut returned the sentiment. “You were wonderful,” In a strange moment of intimacy, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, but then he pulled out, tying off the full condom and tossing it to the ground as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his fly.

“Are you just gonna leave that there?” you made a gesture towards his litter.

“They have janitors,”

A burbling laugh escaped from your lips. “That they do,”

Back in the main room of the party, the crowd had only grown larger as the night progressed. Nobody had seen you, nor had they noticed your cries as they danced and drank and made merry under the neon lights. You were, for all intents and purposes, invisible at Helmut’s side. Within and without. There was something exhilarating about knowing he was the only one that truly saw you in a room packed with hundreds. It was like something out of a twisted fairytale.

“So…” you broached the subject gently while you pulled down your dress to protect your modesty, “Did you mean what you said back there about Paris and Vienna, or…”

“Oh, you heard that?”

You snickered. “It was pretty hard not to with you breathing in my ear,”

“I apologize,” he leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, “but yes, I meant what I said. I-”

Suddenly, from down the hall, a booming voice interrupted your moment.

“There you are!”

“Goddamnit, Zemo, I thought we told you to stay low not hire an escort,”

There, at the mouth of the hallway, stood two massive men. They were obviously displeased, and though their faces were obscured by the lights you could tell you weren’t the one they were after.

They called him Zemo… where had you heard that name before?

Helmut stepped away from the wall with a shrug. “At least I didn’t cause a scene by forgetting to put my phone on silent,”

The larger of the two men stayed where he was, while the other walked to meet the Baron in the middle.

“I swear to God, man, you’ve gotten ten times more insufferable since I learned you were rich.

The Baron shrugged. “It comes with the territory,”

“But you don’t have to be such a jackass about it,”

You felt it was a good time to chime in.

“Thank you so much for that, Helmut, but I think I should give you guys some privacy,” you said, straightening out your dress and walking deeper into the hallway. There had to be an exit somewhere…

“Wait!” When you turned, you found Helmut rushing to meet you. The men in the background looked shocked and almost smug. “Save your money. Meet me out at the airstrip tomorrow afternoon if you feel like seeing me again. If not, know that the Power Broker doesn’t let go of assets cheap, and you just slept with a man with a million dollar bounty, so buying your freedom isn’t an option. If you want to go without me, you’ll have to hitch a ride on a cargo ship but not as a stowaway. Working for your keep is the best way to stay under the radar. Nobody can touch you once you’r-”

You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll see you at your private jet, Baron,”

He smirked. “So you will,” With as much gusto as a man could muster, he returned to his companions but not before offering one last goodbye. “Farewell, schatzi, until tomorrow,”

As you leaned up against the wall once more, you watched them go with a twinkle in your eye.

“Who was that?”

“None of your business, James,”

“Guys, what the hell did I just step on?”

“I believe that was my used rubber,”

“ZEMO!”

-------

a/n: I hope you enjoyed the filth! I haven’t written for Zemo before, even though I’ve loved him for years, but he’s definitely going into my main rotation now. If you have any ideas, send them my way! I’d love to fill the void, because there just aren’t very many Zemo x reader fics out there. If you enjoyed this, maybe reblog or leave a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks again!

Please do not post my works to any other sites, thanks! <3

[little-fairy-forest]

Could I request the same scenario with his s/o on her period but with Bakugou instead of Tenya? Like, she gets insecure while she’s on her period and tries to act how she normally would (even tho she gets angry easier). I’m curious to see how Bakugou would react to periods in general. •Have a great day! And good luck on your bigger fic!!•

☘Hey lovely! Thank you for the request, I'm always a softy for bakugou :)

Bakugou helping his s/o on their period

Bakugou x fem!reader, fluff

Bakugou grew up as an only child, he doesn't have many close female friends other then his mother and yourself

You thought Katsuki would be grossed out with you being on your period since he seems to be a neat freak

When you decided to hide away in your room on your period to be within the comfort of your bedroom and have anything you need on standby, seemed to annoy Bakugou

He asked where you were and people presumed you were either in your dorm or training– but you only trained with Kstsuki so you must be still in bed, really? Its noon!

He makes his way up to your room, he knows its unlocked so he just gives his little knock he does to alert you it's just him and he barges in looking to see where you were

Only to find you hunched over in your bed with a hearing pad looking quite sickly

"Oi dumbass– what happened?? Who the fuck do I have to beat the shit out of?! Oi tell me-"

"Be quite pleassseee, I have a headache" you say as you try and bare with the pain all over your body, your pain medicine hasn't kicked in yet

Katsuki is annoyed– firstly why didn't you tell him you were in pain, and secondly– why were you in pain?!

"What happened" he asks in a tone that says "tell me or I'll make you"

You answer as you look up at Katsuki sitting on the edge of your bed "just some cramps...my period is really bad this month.."

That's it? Just your period? lol ok girl

"Move mover dumbass" Katsuki says as he pulled your covers over the both of you as he then placed his palm is his hand on your lower abdomen

He heated up his quirk slightly

"How does that feel?" He asks quietly

"Nice...it works better then my heating pad.." you say amused that he is even helping you

"Tch of course it is, I'm better then that shitty thing"

Katsuki lays with you for a while before he asks if you need anything at all

You didn't need anything because you get everything since you are prepared for your period each month, you also didn't want to walk anywhere whilst the worse of your cramps hit

He insists on ordering in your favourite take away because quite frankly he doesn't want to leave your side if you in pain

You are happily enjoying your take away beside your boyfriend as you watch your favourite movie as he is weirdly quite beside you

"You okay 'suki?" You ask as you turn to him looking at his thinking face

"Why didn't you think I could handle your period? Did you think I'd be grossed out or some shit?" He asks as he wants a direct answer from you

You answer honestly "well most boys seem grossed out by periods or just don't understand how painful it can be,, so I thought you would call be weak over some cramps and a headache" you say quietly as you see Katsuki's face changed into one of displease

"Why would I think your weak? Look I fuckin' listened in health class. I know enough about periods to understand that you have to tear away your inside or some shit and rebuild it and expect to do about your daily life as if your not basically fuckin' dying"

Katsuki has so much respect for the people who go through periods and especially the ones who are in hero training, have you seen the shit yous are made to do? And you expected to join every class when your already in pain?

Those are the people who are true heros.

Katsuki and yourself snuggle together as you finish the movie, Katsuki gets your shower reader for you as you get ready.

He heats up your pyjamas for when you get out of the shower aswell as some vitamins for you to take

Pretty much this boy generally thinks your badass for going through this shit every month and be expected not to through a hissy fit

Thank you for reading!

-> masterlist

[catzula]

tell me where you are, honey

So, I should tell you that that this is not my fiction, its heavily based on real life. If you want to check it out, the mentioned band is a Turkish band called 'Duman'.

Genre and warnings: hey guys? This is pure angst. Just angst. Heavy heavy angst. First of all, major character death (not Suna), tw: mentions of suicide, tw: mentions of death, tw: mentions of depression and anxiety, mentions of alcohol, if there's anything else please tell me!

Suna closes his eyes as he sings the words, trying to forget the uneasy feeling stirring in his chest. 

He feels the sweat drip from the sides of his face, making him glisten under the blueish lights of the bar. 

A chilly wind makes his overheated body shiver. Your face comes before his eyes, and Suna can't help the bitter smile finding its way on his lips. He stopped taking song requests a long time ago, so instead, he leans to the mic and asks how's the night going with a broken but charming smile that makes the crowd excited.

It has been a while. Suna shouldn't feel a lump in his throat, a stinging in his eyes. But he does. He can't help it when a fan calls out to him, asking for the song. 

Reminding the rest of his fans of the song, they start chanting the name of it like it's a prayer, holding a rhythm and hoping for him to sing it.

The song he hasn't sang in a long, long time.

The choking feeling is instant, the heaviness pressuring his chest, making it impossible for him to breathe in the foggy room. Atsumu interjects, telling the fans to cut it out, that they are well aware Suna won't, can't sing it.

Osamu sends a glimpse at the lead singer's direction, not surprised to see his fox-like, almost lifeless-looking eyes already damp. Suna runs a hand through his hair frustratedly, Osamu can't tell what he's thinking, but it appears hard on him. 

Atsumu cocks his head when Suna backs away from the mic. "It's okay," he grits his teeth, he looks like he's in pain. "I think- I think I can sing it this once."

The truth is, Suna missed you this song. Suna missed the song he knew that you loved so much. So he sends a smile to the crowd, picking the mic and biting his lip. It was a song he promised he would never sing again, never again after that last time.

But here he is, hoping you could hear it.

"Darling, you are my honey," Suna sings, and it comes out as choked and strained, but the fans are just surprised he actually did sing it.

It's the first familiar chords that cause him to choke on his breath. Suna's already crying, and if the fans looked closely, they could see the others are, too.

Suna's mind wanders off to the last time he sang the song, the last time he spoke those words. 

It's the first big concert his band was going to do. Suna had been trying to make it happen for months now, and if it went well, it would be a big turn point in their careers. 

"Can't you- can't you come a little earlier today?"

"Rin, where are you?" He heard you say from the other side of the line, making him sigh in annoyance. "I've been texting you all day!" Suna pinched the bridge of his nose. He was already aware you were texting him every five fucking minutes, and that was the very reason he hadn't opened one of them. "I'll be home in a few hours." He grumbled, almost inaudible, but you managed to hear him.

He didn't think much about the few seconds of silence that followed his answer.

Your voice was a mere whisper, and you sounded so sad, almost desperate, and Suna closed his eyes. "We have a fucking concert today. We're doing the last cheks." He sighed when you stay silent. "I'll try to come a little earlier."

"Okay, I love you, Rin." He heard you smile, and it made the weight on his chest feel a little lighter. "Love ya too, honey."

Honey. 

It wasn't a word anyone would expect Suna to speak, but it was what he always called you. He always said it with so much emotion, so much thought and love, and it never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

"You taste like honey." He once told you when you asked him, leaning in with a smile and stealing a kiss.

It was your favorite song.

"My soul is already addicted to your taste," Suna sighs the words. The fans are surprisingly silent, watching their favorite singer shake with wtiholded sobs at the lyrics and the love he lost. It's obvious he's out of it, lost in the memories, holding the mic so tight that his knuckles turn white. 

Your love story was one of the most famous ones at the time, more than Suna himself, and was known by almost everyone.

But lately, you had started to feel like it was dying. 

It wasn't, of course. Suna loved you more than he did anything else, and you loved him more than life itself. It wasn't anything in particular that made you feel that way, too. Many little things combined, the depression you were falling into, the stress he was under, the more than often fights happening lately.

Your relationship wasn't the best lately, that, you admitted. Suna was rarely at home. You only saw him a few minutes each day, and that if you were lucky. Even when he was at home, all you ever did was to fight. Not even about anything worth fighting, but they always caused broken hearts on both sides. 

Despite all the stress building over him, Suna was trying to make it better, too. Making compromises of himself, agreeing with you in fights despite your nonsense arguments, not saying anything about you blowing up on the smallest things. 

"Where are you...love..." He cries. He should've thought more, cared more. Suna was guilty of not thinking why you were acting like this instead of how to stop it. He was busy with the upcoming concerts, their band was about to turn the corner, but that couldn't be an excuse.

Suna had gone home after his band practice that day. The apartment was dark, so silent, it scared him until he opened the lights and found you lying on the couch. 

You weren't sleeping, he thought it was because you wanted to see him, but it was because of the anxious thoughts roaming in your mind. Suna should've seen the trembling of your hands, how cold you felt, how limp and numb you seemed. 

"You stink." Those were the first words you told him, your face souring when you took note of the alcohol and cigarettes clinging on him like a second skin. "Did you drink?" You sounded suspicious.

"No, I already told you we were practicing."

"Then why do you smell like this?" Suna gritted his teeth when yiur voice raised, resembling a shout.

"Because we work at a fucking bar? You know all this, why the fuck are you acting like this?" Suna sneered, it was only for a second he had lost control, but it was enough for your face to contort with hurt. 

You felt guilty when he sighed, seemingly admitting defeat. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? But I'm already stressed enough for the concert, and I can't deal with this shit right now." You watched your boyfriend run his fingers through his hair, his words hurting you more than they should. You were acting nonsensible, you knew, but you couldn't stop.

"This shit? You mean me?" Your voice was now a little higher, making him flinch. "Y/N, for fucks sake! You know I didn't mean that!"

"Tell me where are you, honey,"  There were things you were dealing with, shit he didn't know, you hadn't told. He couldn't have known, he couldn't have known, but he should've. If he had, Suna would never have told you all those that day. He wouldn't have made you cry, sob in the room, dark and by yourself. 

He would've stayed with you, told you he was there, that he loved you, everything would be fine. Honey, he would call you. But he hadn't. Instead, he chose to act selfishly.

"Stop being so fucking pushy." He had told you when you asked where they practiced, who else was there but the Miya's, who was that girl you saw in a picture with him, which was taken months ago, why were they standing so close? It was an argument you had gone over five times already, he had told you it was Atsumu's friend and nothing else, but you kept bringing it up.

"Just give me some space, goddammit! You're suffocating me!" Suna shouted. It was rare to see Suna raise his voice, and it made you freeze in your place. You looked in his slitted eyes, only seeing hate, disgust swimming in those greens. 

You didn't say it, but Suna noticed something was wrong, and you were crying too hard, so hard he feared you were going to pass out. "Hey, hey- I'm sorry." He muttered, acting quickly to wrap his arms around your shaking body like he was the only thing holding you together.

You were wrong, and all Suna was feeling was distress, and he could never look at you with anything but love, but your anxiety told you otherwise.

Do you hate me? The question is on the tip of your tongue. It feels like everyone, everything hates you lately, hell, you yourself do, too. You only need an answer, yes or no, since you can't tell by the foggy depression blurring your thoughts.

Do you? Do you hate me? Please don't hate me, I'm sorry, please don't look at me like that.

(he was)

It felt like hours as you cried between his arms, and Suna pressed an occasional kiss to your hair. Neither of you talked, the heaviness of the fight still lingering in the air, and Suna decided to talk about it after the concert. So you just stood there between each other's arms. Maybe you would've told him you felt broken, and you couldn't take it anymore, you didn't-

It was on the tip of your tongue as he pulled back from you, pressing one last kiss on your hair. "I have to go, honey." He told you, checking the time on his phone. "I'm going to be late for the concert."

Suna didn't notice how you flinched when he pulled back, how tears gathered in your eyes, how you couldn't look him in the eyes. "Okay." He heard you whisper. Watching you smile at him, he smiled back when you leaned in to press a kiss on his lips. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pressed your body closer to him, surprising and making him chuckle. It was a kiss that screamed goodbye, but he was too nervous to notice. 

"A good luck kiss, I presume?" He laughed when you pulled back. "I'll see you there, yeah? Let's talk about this after."

"You are with me from now on, honey," Suna should've noticed your lack of response. If he had, maybe he wouldn't be sobbing on the stage now. He feels Atsumu pat his back, Suna's holding on his mic like it's the one thing holding him alive, sobs breaking his words, making him shake.

His fans watch him as he wipes the tears off his face with the back of his hand, the rings adorning his fingers sparkling under the dim light. 

"Tell me where you are, honey,

All the members are crying, not just him. They all loved you, and you were a part of their lives, such a lively, kind person. At the very least, you had managed to tie Suna down.

Its impossible not to cry as people who had heard his cries echoing out of your apartment that night.

You are with me from now on, honey," 

Something was different with Suna's performance that day, and all the others had noticed it. The tired-looking and feeling boy was pumped up that day. He sounded energetic, and Suna gave the best performance he ever had before.

It was all for you, Suna thought. He was singing just for you that day, something he hadn't done in a while. Picking all the songs he ever wrote for you, the ones you liked, just for you, hoping you would feel a little less angry when the concert ended. 

He was smiling the whole time he was singing, but his smile was dropping each time he gazed at the crowd and couldn't find your face, smiling back at him. Were you sitting in the back? Were you that angry with him?

The night proceeded, and the whole band knew it was a success. 

A few songs time left, Suna was frowning since he still couldn't have spotted you. There was no way you hadn't come, but you might have been hiding still. 

Deciding to pull out the big guns, Suna gave the sign to Osamu. They could tell what he had in mind, and Suna smiled with the first hearing of chords. He sang it, sang with a bitter smile, looking at the crowd to finally spot you. 

"You are my soul from now on,

You are my only part that remains alive," 

The concert came to a halt. You weren't in the crowd, and Suna was already in the middle of the song. "Suna- Suna, stop!" Osamu and Atsumu stopped playing, Suna sang the last word alone.

"What the-" He was about to shout at them for making him stop so abruptly, but the terrified look on Osamu's face made him stop. All the blood had left both their faces, and both the twins were shaking, but why were they crying?

It was hard to tell him what happened, and it might've been a mistake, too. 

Wrong time. 

You can't tell a man the love of his life died, she took her own life, right in the middle of the song dedicated just to her.  

What happened after that was a blur. 

Atsumu and Osamu tried to stop Suna from rushing back to the apartment, but he was quick. Suna had no idea how he drove back home, but he was standing in front of the door of your apartment, knocking on the door like a madman, praying you would open it for him. he would see your smiling face, greeting him, or maybe angry with him, crying, screaming- whatever. All he wanted to do was to- to-

He was punching, kicking the door, shouting and crying, crying and crying, and as more seconds that pass, Suna thought he could go crazy. 

It's a miracle when the door opened, and for a split second, Suna thought it was a lie, a cruel joke, a misunderstanding. You were here, you opened the door for him-

It wasn't you. 

You weren't the one who opened the door, but your sister. Her face was damp with tears, and Suna's eyes locked on the figure that stood behind her. 

It was the hardest thing to try and make Suna let go of you, try and calm him, stop him from pulling you back to between his arms, and never let go. 

Osamu arrived right after him. 

He arrived at a scene he would never be able to forget.

His best friend was on the floor, your body limp between his arms. Osamu couldn't hold back his cries when he heard Suna's loud cries, begging and begging for you to wake up, holding your hand, trying to warm you, he was shouting, the pain so raw in his voice, people around him feel tears pricking in their eyes.

"Please, honey, please-" He sobbed brokenly, his body was shaking like a leaf.

He sat there, sobbing in his hands, his agonizing screams audible even from the outside, sending chills down everyone nearby. They think they never in their lives heard pure pain like this in someone's voice.

Osamu and Atsumu were crying with Suna as he finally let you go. He couldn't watch as they took you away, out of the room. 

But they don't hear him crying out your name, instead, it's a sweet pet name they hear. It makes the twins shake with more cries.

honey honey honey

He figured too late, how you were battling with severe depression, how your personal life was a mess, how you needed him to be there for you. He was too late. 

Suna hadn't left the apartment for 15 days straight after that day. He didn't want to speak or see anyone, barely ate and drank. 

He refused to see his family, the twins visiting him.

No one knew what happened in those 15 days, but when he came back out, they could tell by a look he had changed. Not only physically (even though he looked like he was starving and sick), but also mentally.

It was his fault. If he had been more attentive, more at home to see you, ask you if anything was wrong, "honey, are you okay?" maybe it would've been fine. It was his fault.

Even after he left the apartment, even after he started smiling, it was evident Suna was never the same. How could he be? He had lost a part of him, no, he had lost all of him. And all that left was the shell that merely resembled him. 

Suna had tried to sing it more than he could count, but the moment he heard the first chord, he broke down crying. This was the one day he succeeded, and even though it was barely audible, it sounded like agonizing cries instead, he was singing it. 

For you. 

Can you hear me, honey?

honey, honey, honey.

[katsukikitten]

WARNINGS: 18+ DUB CON/ NON CON? WEREWOLF BAKUGOU, THIS IS PURE FILTH JUST PURE SMUT 

You were never the best at running, especially not through the woods. So it is no surprise your heel snaps off causing you to trip over a small log. Your pelvis bone connects with the thick trunk, brushing your hip as your dress threatens to expose your underwear. 

A howl is heard in the distance paired with something moving through the brush at an ungodly speed, gaining on you much faster than you thought. 

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself, panting as branches seem to reach out. Their sharp, splintered claws grabbing at you and only catching your body con dress. Tearing it piece by piece, you are unsure if your faux bunny ears are still atop your head.It was unfathomable how wrong tonight had gone and how quickly. 

But then again it was Halloween and a full moon at that. They say the full moon has the power to make people act crazy and especially so on a blue moon.  Which made your panicked mind wander to the rumors about this town and what happens every blue moon. There were whispers of the older families having dark secrets. Fairy tales of beasts and mating but a second full moon in a month was so rare those murmurs and scoffs were supposed to be just that, rumors, stories. 

Not actual werewolves who couldn't control their urges during this magical event. The blue moon either filling them with unchecked rage or undeniable lust should they not take the necessary precautions. Although no one would say what exactly those precautions are. 

Your first hint about the rumors being true should have been the local news station. You thought it a Halloween prank when they advised women ages of 20 to 30 to remain indoors for tonight, to lock their windows and doors. To adorn their throats in silver to protect them from unwanted bonding. You had rolled your eyes as you got ready for your daily college classes, jumping into your black skinny jeans and blood red sweater.  

Your second hint should have been the absence of your good friend Kirishima. He always walked you to your English class since his history course was in the same building but this morning he was a no show. He didn't even respond to your texts last night asking if he wanted to go to a Halloween party with you. 

Your final hint should have been when the normally aloof, irritable and "untouchable of the big three" lab partner you had for biology growled in your direction. This would be the first thing he had said all semester.

"Don't go out tonight, got it extra?" His voice is clipped and he is acting strange, his left hand gripping onto his right forearm so harshly a bruise was beginning to bloom. You chalk it up to nerves for the upcoming exams. 

"Oh is someone gonna bite me like the news anchor said?" You giggle, turning your focus back on your work only for the professor to cancel class early. You pack your things as Bakugou sits rigid, still. He fixes you a harsh glare before he stands, pulling the strap of your purse causing you to become a little off balance.  His eyes dance over your frame, over your exposed neck but you do not notice, barely see his canines elongate as he snarls. 

"You'll wish that's all that they did." 

Looking back you wish you had noticed it before, then maybe you wouldn't be in the situation you were in now.

You burst through the trees and find yourself in a clearing. Here you would a sitting duck to whatever the hell was chasing you. Still not believing your eyes and you crossed paths with a giant wolf. Fur golden in the moon light and eyes a haunting, gut wrenching familiar red. It wasn't too long after that did it give chase. 

The howl behind you is too close for comfort as you barely have time to jump into a patch of briars and thick prickly bushes that sit on the edge of a creek. By some odd instinct you grab onto the ice cold mud and smear your arms and part of your neck with it, clenching your jaw so your teeth do not chatter. 

Suddenly a large beast bursts into the clearing, wet nose sniffing at the air and ground before it shifts in the clearing under the moonlight. It is a haunting sight. Bones snap and grind as features twist into grotesque angels until it finally forms into that handsome familiar face. The ash blonde fur retreats until it is only on the top of his head, faded beneath while the top looks finger brushed and wild. He is shirtless and his pants are torn from the calf down, the only beastly feature he keeps is the glow of his blood red eyes. You swallow, biting your lip to stop from shaking; this is not the Bakugou you knew. Not that you knew him that well in the first place but there was some power in having a crush. You had learned his mannerisms in the first year here at University, somehow always in a class with him, with one of the three legendary "heartthrobs" of the school. He was as hot headed as the rumors said and he was just as handsome if not more so. Itching for a fight and yet oddly quiet when in close proximity to you. An action you took to mean he either hated you or didn't even know you existed. 

So it's safe to say you're unfamiliar with this manic, wolfish grin. 

Feral incarnate. 

He sniffs the air. 

"Where are you little ooooonnne?" He calls cruelly, "I can smell you." 

His body goes through the motions of tensing and relaxing, another howl breaks through the eerie silence but this time much farther away. Bakugou's ears perk, his grin twisting in such a way it screams malice, unbridled rage and yet excitement. 

"You must be in your mortal heat. Guess I'm not the only one who can smell it. Didn't I tell you not to go out tonight?" His voice is dark, haunting as the wind catches down from you, carrying your scent away from him. 

"I knew your dumb ass would ignore me, I took a precaution to that and yet you didn't even bring your fucking purse?!" 

Your purse? 

Is that how that red cloth and weird silver dollar got into the bottom of your purse? 

Bakugou shifts his weight, giving his back to you as he prepares for something coming that you cannot hear. In the meantime you allow your eyes to study his physic, following his scarred back, broad shoulders all the way down to his deadly hands. One of his palms is burned in the shape of a perfect circle, you swallow thickly. The sound causes his ears to twitch and look over his shoulder, making eye contact with you through the brush. 

But he does not have time to react as a black furred beast with glowing ruby eyes jumps into the clearing. Sniffing the air wildly before baring his teeth towards Bakugou. The beast huffs and growls before finally shifting into his human form, a cold sweat settles in your bones. 

"Where the fuck is she?" You have never heard your friend use a tone so dark as Eijiro continues to pace, keeping his eyes glued to Bakugou. 

"Fuck off Kirishima, shes mine." 

"I don't see a bonding mark on her yet." Its more a feral growl than anything, "You said you didn't waste your time on mortals." 

"I fucking changed my mind. And you know why, her smell is…" He inhales deeply, testing to see how much of you can be sensed. The most he can tell is that you're close by but he cannot pinpoint you, he fights to keep his eyes from falling over his shoulders to see you. 

He's dying to know how you masked your scent without with an Alpha's pheromones or a silver piece. But that would have to wait, at least if he wanted to ensure it was his seed that stuffed you. He bites his lip, the thought sends a shiver down his spine. First he had to deal with Kirishima then he could take his time making you his. 

"Well you know how it is don't ya? Didn't know you were such a pervert, Eiji. Is that why you walked her to class? Hoping she'd make you her boyfriend or some sappy shit?" Bakugou taunts, head tilting in mock question, "Guess you can't hold back anymore can you? Dreaming about giving her your knot?" 

Kirishima bares his teeth, fighting the urge to buck at another Alpha, especially one he knows he will have to fight with full force. He opens his sharp toothed mouth to retort but yet another beast finds it's way into the clearing coming from the opposite of Kirishima but to the right of Bakugou. 

The beast looks wild, heterochromatic eyes glisten beneath the full moon as white and red fur clash all the way down his spine. A collar around his throat catches the light as a broken chain drags across the ground, there are shackles around his wrists and ankles as well. Bakugou smirks, adrenaline fueling his excitement over what is about to be a damn good fight. 

"You watchin little slut? Look at what your scent can do." He changes his stance into that of a fight, "You've got two normally non aggressive Aplahs ready to get their asses handed to them and for fucking what?"

The three of them shift their eyes and bodies this way and that before Bakugou licks his teeth.  

"God I can't wait to bury my face in that soaked pussy." He lunges, transforming mid leap into a hauntingly powerful wolf. His teeth are exposed, lip curled up in a snarl as his targets Kirishima first.  Kirishima barely shape shifts in time, pearly white teeth sink deep into his shoulder before gnashing at his throat. Deafening growls and yowling surround the clearing. Kirishima attempts to kick Bakugou off of him as they tumble closer to who you assume is Todoroki who bares his teeth. He launches himself at the other Alphas. His teeth find purchase in Bakugou's shoulder, blood staining white and blonde fur a like. There is no yelp or howl, just a stomach churning growl before Bakugou turns his attention towards the two toned wolf. Snapping his jaw as he attempts to get a grip on the chained wolf who dodges. Bakugou's teeth gleam with dripping crimson, a snarl of warning before he propels himself towards Todoroki. Sharp teeth bite at two toned fur as Shoto bares his teeth, growling, snapping his jaw at his opponent. Kirishima begins to get to his feet, limping as he avoid putting weight onto one of his front legs, crimson drips down onto the chilled dirt. He keeps his ruby red eyes on the two dancing wolves.

Bakugou strikes faster than Todoroki can dodge, and angry teeth clamp down at Todoroki's throat. The collar snaps from the force before Bakugou sinks his fangs deep into Todoroki's throat. 

An ear ringing yelp is heard as blood pools into Bakugou's stained muzzle, white fur marred in crimson as Todoroki begins to sway. As the hot head's jaw is locked onto tender flesh, Kirishima attacks. Biting at the nape of Bakugou's neck and yanking him from Todoroki with force, tossing him with ease. The light colored wolf flies into trees snapping the thick oaks as if they were twigs. Buying some time for the two injured wolves, any other alpha would have seen this as a win, knowing the two from rival families would retreat to lick their wounds. 

But Bakugou was no normal alpha. This gut clenching fight taught you as much. Todoroki struggles to keep consciousness, his throat dripping an insane amount of blood. He falls to his side huffing almost wheezing before he shifts back into human form, shackles shrinking to readjust to his wrists. Kirishima whines nudging at the unconscious, possibly dead man. All the while crimson red eyes peer through the unsettled dust before soaring through the air, landing on top of the black wolf. Pinning his back onto the ground as dark paws claw at bared teeth. Trying desperately to keep him at bay but with one fucked front paw it is a futile attempt. Quickly Bakugou overpowers him, sinking his teeth too deep into his friend's throat and keeping his muzzle there until the whining and yelping stops. Until he too shifts back to his human form. 

You fight to keep your own whimpering in, still hidden in the brush while you hoped, prayed that he somehow got disoriented. That he forgot where you were. 

His head snaps towards you, mouth dripping saliva and thick red blood. His eyes glow as his stalks closer. He stops just before the underbrush shifting back into that devilishly handsome face. He is soaked in blood, scratches line his face and chest. He wipes at his mouth but not once does his fist wipe away the cocky smile he holds. 

He scares you but what scares you most is how your body is reacting to such a gruesome sight. A muscular man dripping in sticky red, droplets tracing the outline of his abs and a smile of triumph as two people lie wounded, possibly dead behind him. It made your pussy throb, the strength, the raw need and want to win and for what? For you, for your essence and the promise of a futile womb. 

He can smell your fear as he yanks you from the bushes and thorns. 

"Don't worry, it's not my blood." He grins, pulling you closer to him as you try to push away. Just like you're trying to push away these odd feelings that swirl in your chest, in your stomach; of a weird pride and arousal. It was of no use, like pushing dead weight up a forty five degree hill, this too was a losing battle.  

"K..kirishima." Your eyes are glued to his unmoving body, causing a deep rage to form in Bakugou's chest. He grips your chin forcing you to look at him his other hand goes straight for your sex, cupping the underwear allowing his fingers to swipe over the damp fabric. 

"Don't you ever say his fucking name while you're wet for me. Got it?" His fingers are causing divots in your cheeks as you whimper from his contrasting touch. Harsh grip, soft strokes. As if reading your mind he takes a deep breath, not meaning to inhale so much of you.  

"They ain't dead, you're worth the trouble. But not that much trouble. Now focus on me." He let's go of you, drinking you in smirking when he sees your costume. Or what's left of it anyway. 

Thick irony that you would choose to be a bunny of all nights. He fingers the fake ears with earnest. 

"Fitting." He purrs before taking both of his hands to the front collar of your dress, ripping the fabric from your torso. He growls audibly mumbling to himself "Much better." As you stand with your tits exposed, your lacy underwear catching his attention beneath fishnet tights. He bites his bottom lip, pulling you to him as he buries his face into your tits. Nipping sucking and biting as he eases your buckling legs towards the ground. 

"Fuuuuck." He groans, pressing his cheek harshly against yours, trying to scent you as best he can without claiming you fully.  It's hard, fuck is it hard. It always has been, since his first class with you.  

You weren't a beta nor an omega. Hell you were of no wolf relation and yet you reeked, oozed of pheromones that drove him and apparently the others mad. He had tried to protect you, he really had, scenting a piece of an old t-shirt and even burning himself on silver. 

He wanted you, he needed you, his cock ached for you. Weeping now at your arousal making his canines ache with an even greater pain. 

But you were fucking mortal and he was betrothed. Technically all three of the aplahs in that clearing were betrothed to omegas.  It was evident your smell seduced them as well. 

He brings himself to your shoulder, biting hard enough to draw blood, claws, stuck halfway between human and wolf, rake down your back and ass making ribbons of the flesh. Still you moan and he occasionally swallows those whole as he kisses you. Letting you taste copper as his tongue placates yours, he subconsciously secretes soothing and lustful hormones and they are strong enough to make even you high. His hand finds your nipple and when you arch into him he loses his shit. Breaking the kiss to sniff you, nosing and biting until he finds that sweet spot. He opens his mouth, salivating at the thought as his teeth and cock beg for relief. He freezes, squeezing you to him for a moment. The action causes your ribs to creak in protest and yet you feel warm, safe. 

His mouth hovers over your pulse point, the salty sweet taste of you, breaths away from the exact spot he would need to sink his aching teeth into to make you his.  

In a quick motion and a test of will he shoves you onto your back, ripping at the fabric between your thighs after he forces your legs open. You do nothing to stop him, not that could. 

Not that you would.  

He slips his tongue between your folds and licks up, swirling the wet muscle when you buck against him. He hooks his arms around your legs gaining control over your hips and eats. 

See Bakugou is a glutton and he will not stop until he is satisfied. It would be a gift and a curse for you.  

He works his mouth against you thoroughly as the coil in your stomach snaps over and over again. Your hand fisting his hair as you cry out in hoarse gasps, legs shaking around his head, thighs squeezing his skull as he coaxes another high from you. 

Your entire body is shaking, worn out already from however long he sucked, nipped and lapped at your core. Finally he seemed to come up for air but only to watch your sex convulse. He looks up to you causing your heart to skip a beat. His hair is that much more wild, his intense gaze glowing red in the low light and his face glistens with your slick.

"Fuck!" You cry out, letting your head fall back into the ground. 

"What's wrong bunny? Can't handle a little head?" He shoves two fingers deeply into you making a come here motion. You ride another body quaking high as he tries to stretch you to accommodate him. His breathing becomes frantic, as he chases a smell you're emitting. Thrusting harshly into you as his other hand abusesyour clit until that deliciously addicting smell he's chasing crescendos. Your scream echoes in the woods as clear liquid shoots over Bakugou's forearms, all the while you held fluttering eye contact, practically melting in his hands. His fangs grow and he cannot hold himself back any longer. He shoves his pants all the way down, even off of his ankles as he sinks his lengthy girth into you in a snap of his hips. A mixture of pain and pleasure shoot through you like a live wire as you begin to mewl, needing him to move. 

"More, more." You whine, tears prick your eyes as he smiles a deadly smirk. 

"You're such a talkative cock sleeve. You want my knot that bad? Then take it." He thrusts into you setting a deep harsh pace. Alternating between quick succession and slow deep throats. Biting at the skin of your chest and shoulders, torturing you in such a way.  

Punishing you for being mortal. 

"Why?" It's a guttural growl as your mind is lost on another plane, "Why do you have to be mortal?" 

He emphasizes each word with a thrust of his hips earning him a lovely raspy moan from you.

"I want to...to fucking mark you.  Make you mine. The thought of any other alpha or even fucking human touching you…." His thoughts have him chasing two very dangerous highs, snapping his hips so he comes closer to your throat.  

"Please...please Bakugou." You whimpering encourages him. 

He breathes you in, tasting you without even a flicker of his tongue. Your arousal, your damp hair sticking to the column of your throat, the faint scent of your shampoo. 

Somehow he reigns himself in again. Teeth elongated enough they almost scrape your skin.  His breath comes out hot and heavy as you squirm beneath him for friction, wanting nothing more than to be filled. If he does this, if he makes you his mate, it would surely complicate everything. 

"You have to tell me you want it." He's panting, vulnerable as he looks at you, your heart shatters from the look. Deafening reason and logic as it screams how badly you want to be his and he yours. 

"Not just because it feels fucking good right now." His voice is husky, rasped as he fights the weight of his instincts, "Not because I'm fucking hot or a novelty to you mortals. If I mark you, you'll always feel something for me and vice versa. We'll be tethered and attracted to one another even if we fucking hate each other." 

Slowly you nod, again he grabs onto your chin, sliding it down to your throat as he squeezes. 

"This isn't some good acid trip, this isnt some fucking dream. You'll have to meet the elders. You'll have to deal with my ruts." Again he's panting, shaking from holding himself back, having half a mind to just kill you. Still you do not move away from his touch. 

"My jealousy. My rage. My need for territory control. I'll come home dripping in blood. I'll kill other Alpahs." He breathes your name in such a way you clench around him. He growls from the sensation. You struggle to speak beneath his grip, head floating but some how in the right spot. 

"I...I can handle it. Mark me Bakugou Katsuki. Fucking make me yours, fill me use me. Just…" He stares into your eyes until he can no longer take it. Pounding into you in a harsh pace, finally giving in  

"You'll take my knot like a good slut won't you?" His eyes watch you nod before they fall to your breasts. Watching them bounce from the force of his thrusts. His hips turn sloppy as your high builds again. You claw at his back and his smells your high as he tries to time it right. He sinks his teeth into your throat, keeping it just a hair above a marking. 

You feel a growing pressure as his tip stretches you even more until he finally sinks his teeth into you with a grown. His thrusts stuttering as hot ropes paint your walls. Your cunt flutters around it as all you can do is become limp in his grip. His arms are fully around you, his mouth still to your throat as he slowly eases up. His body giving off a bonding hormone so strong that even your moral senses can pick up on. It you drown in a high scented in spice caramel and heat.  He pants heavily, his arms shaking as he kisses you fiercely, teeth bumping into yours before he pulls back.

Weakly you claw at him to hold him as he whispers praises. He lifts you, pulling you towards his chest to keep you safe as you begin to drift. His mouth is pressed to your ear and you can hear the cocky smile in his voice. 

"Get some rest while you still can mate." His hand snakes around to your stomach, his fingers lightly caressing the skin.

"We aren't done until you're carrying my pups."

Tags

@katsukisprincess @avellanagamer100 @bakugotrashpanda my number one fan

[inkykeiji]

i’ll keep you in mind, from time to time

cactus anon said: had a little dream about daddy tomura, but it's when his princess gets sick... like very sick. seemingly out of nowhere. we know he's always cautious about your health and well being, so this is odd to say the least. you could have got it simply from getting the mail or sitting out on the balcony. well you see, daddy has a very strict rule when he's working - you mustn't disturb him when he's in a vital meeting. and you feel so ill that you know you can't just wait until he's done (whenever that will be - it's hard to tell sometimes). you feel like you have no choice but to ask for help 🥺 and there's not many people daddy would allow in his home to come see you when he's not present. except for... dabi...

genre: angst

notes: is this set in the bmb universe????? tbh, yeah, probably. i wrote this with bmb tomura and bmb dabi in mind (my mind just goes straight to bmb tomura the moment i see daddy tomura ehehe). do you need to read the monster that is bmb before reading this? absolutely not, since it’s technically a prequel of sorts! | title credit: moose blood’s first album ehehehe

warnings: sad boi dabi, very sick reader, it’s implied that tomura has cut her off from everyone she knows, pining, daddy kink, mention of drugs

words: 2.9k

Nestled under Tomura’s fluffy comforter and curled in on yourself in his mammoth bed, your silk babydoll sticks to your damp, sweaty skin, teeth clattering together so violently it’s almost painful, even though your flesh is scalding to the touch. It’s a surprise that Daddy can’t hear it, that incessant clackclackclack echoing down the vacant halls, a surprise he didn’t come running immediately—like he always does—at the sound of your pitiful little whimpers as you burrowed deeper into his mattress.

He must be really, really busy today.

And you know better than to interrupt him when he’s really, really busy.

But—But it all hurts so much, head pounding with such vigour you can barely see straight, muscles aching and weak, a loud whine escaping your lips as you roll over, groping around in the blankets for your phone. It’s too bright when you finally locate it, eyes squinting and a hiss catching in your throat as you bring the screen too close to your face, quickly scrolling through your contacts in a desperate attempt to find someone—anyone—to come to your rescue.

You know you should wait. Really, you should. Your Daddy is jealous, and protective, and possessive, and there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he’s going to be upset when he finds out that you called someone else to take care of you.

But—But it could be hours until Daddy’s done with his work—sometimes he spends the entire night in that stupid wood-paneled office, and you can’t risk it. It’s terrifying, this nightmarish illness that seemingly appeared out of nowhere, with its sudden onslaught of concerning symptoms worsening by the second, and you’re beginning to wonder if something is seriously wrong, the thought sending icy spikes of anxiety shooting through your veins.

No, you can’t risk it—you can’t wait.

A thumb hovers over your mother’s name in hesitance, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you consider. Her place isn’t necessarily close, but she’s the relative that’d be able to reach you the fastest—even so, it’d take her at least two hours to get here, and that’s assuming there’s no traffic on the roads. But she isn’t exactly fond of your boyfriend, and the last thing you want to deal with while feeling like you’re dying is a fight between the two of them. You know how nasty they can get.

So you keep scrolling, fingers halting for a second time as your best friend’s name flies past your eyes.

It’s been months since you last spoke—Tomura being the topic of your last conversation, of your last fight. You’re spending too much time with him, they had claimed, eyes cloaked in a glossy sheen of tears as they frenetically searched your face, almost begging you to understand. It’s unhealthy! It’s unnatural! They had said with a vicious shake of their head. He has you in a fucking chokehold, can’t you see that?

Eyelids squeeze shut tightly against the familiar burn of tears, their last few words echoing through your mind, bouncing off the walls of your skull and reverberating, louder and louder and louder—

No. You can’t do this right now, your head throbbing in retaliation, a painful lump nestling into the column of your throat. It’s too much, too much, and you don’t want to think anymore, can feel that neediness rooting deep at the core of your body, a longing to just be taken care of and nurtured, frantically scrolling back up as urgent eyes search the names blurring by on the screen. A gasp falls from your lips as his name whirs by, fingers scrambling to scroll back down and find it again.

Dabi.

Daddy trusts Dabi, doesn’t he? Daddy likes Dabi, right? They’re friends, aren’t they? Out of all of the people you just scrolled through, Dabi is evidently the best choice, the most correct choice, is he not?

Your thumb trembles a little as it levitates over his name—you don’t know him well, have only spoken a mere handful of words to him in the six months you’ve been dating Tomura, but...but he appears to be your only hope.

His voice is rough when he answers, abruptly cutting through the dull second ring, evident surprise bleeding into it when you whimper out your name, mumbled against the receiver. He regains his composure a moment later, tone hardening as he asks you why the fuck you thought it’d be a good idea to call him, of all people.

Tears blur your vision, sniffling a little as you explain the situation, frail voice breaking as you tell him about how you’re terrified you’re dying, and Daddy’s too busy, and last time—last time you interrupted him you got in real big trouble, and he’s your only hope, you need him, and please, Dabi?

And God, he’s chuckling into your ear, low and hoarse and inspiring a flock of butterflies to soar through your stomach, a sensation you swear is from whatever sickness has infected your body. You’re so lucky you’re fucking cute.

He hangs up directly after that, doesn’t spare you a second to respond, arriving at in penthouse in ten minutes flat, and you’re not sure you’ve ever been happier to see his tattooed face.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes when he sees you, curled up beneath the fluffy comforter, strands of hair shining with sweat and sticking to your skin. Pace quickening, he places his knuckles against your forehead, your sore eyes slipping shut at the cool relief his skin provides. A sharp hiss slips through his clenched teeth and he yanks his hand back, a soft whimper getting caught in your throat as you try to follow his touch.

A head of inky tousled hair shakes back and forth as he hastily leaves Tomura’s bedroom. Glass and ceramic clink together, the sound echoing down the hall, as Dabi roots around in the kitchen, swearing softly to himself when he can’t find what he’s looking for.

A cup of water is in his hands when he returns a few moments later, aspirin clutched in his other fist, still muttering under his breath about the thermometer not being where it’s supposed to be, and why the hell doesn’t Shigaraki have any cold and flu meds like, at all?

Perching on the edge of Tomura’s bed, he acts as if it’s such an inconvenience to him, as if he’s so annoyed that you’re sick and needy, but he really doesn’t hide it well enough. Because you see through his thinly veiled act even in your inebriated state—see the concern in his sapphire eyes as his eyebrows push together just a little, a tiny crease forming between them, see the way the corners of his lips keep pulling downwards with every single one of your pathetic little noises. A heavy sigh leaves his chest a moment later, body shuffling towards you, cobalt eyes still saturated with worry.

A large hand pets your sweaty hair, soft and gentle as the other tilts a glass of full water towards your lips, Dabi’s deep voice startlingly soft as he orders you to drink, princess.

And he doesn’t mean for the nickname to slip out, tells himself he only used it because he’s so accustomed to hearing Tomura use it—accustomed to hearing Tomura overuse it—panic’s sharp claws gripping his heart the moment it leaves his lips. But you seem too sick, too delirious, to notice or care, obediently swallowing the pills just like he told you to.

Good girl.

The praise just slips out too, those two simple words falling from his lips unconsciously, involuntarily, uncontrollably, and he chooses to focus on the fact that you drank the entire glass instead of the cute noise you make in response to his commendation, a trembling hand placing the empty cup on the oak bedside table.

The mattress dips as he prepares to get up, to move away, to put some much needed, necessary distance between the two of you, but a small, clammy hand catches his forearm, his entire body freezing in shock, stiff and still like a marble statue.

Sapphire eyes snap to the tiny hand gripping his arm, hyper-aware of the heat radiating off the sticky palm and seeping into his skin, and then dart to your face, wide and frenetic. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? he wants to snap, words turning to ash on his tongue. Because, Christ, you look like you’re about to fucking cry, staring at him through your lashes with those terrified eyes, begging him softly, shyly, not to leave.

“I’m not leaving,” he says with a roll of his eyes, yanking his arm free from your weak grasp, a soft whine escaping your lips as you grope the air for him again. “I’m 90 percent sure you have a dangerously high fever—there’s no way I’m going to leave you on your own until your asshole of a boyfriend is done doing whatever the fuck he’s doing. I’m just gonna move to that chair over there—”

“No!” you gasp, coughing on the word in your haste to reach for him again. “Please, stay, here,” you look down at the bed pointedly, gazing drifting back to his a moment later. “H-Here, with me,”

Dabi isn’t stupid. He knows Tomura will be seeing red the moment those scarlet eyes meet ice blue when he re-enters his bedroom from a day full of sifting through documents and yelling on conference calls. But when your boss’s plaything, his most prized possession, calls you in tears blubbering about how she’s sure she’s about to fucking die, well—coming by to take care of her is the lesser of two evils, don’t you think? Really, Tomura should be thanking him.

But Tomura returning from a day full of sifting through documents and yelling on conference calls to meet ice blue in his bed, next to said prized possession? Well, that’s a different story entirely.

He’s frozen as he mulls over it, your blunt nails digging soft, tiny crescents into his flesh, little marks that will fade only a few moments after you let go.

“I can’t do that,” he says softly, almost regretfully, and his tone of voice surprises him, startles him, scares him. Clearing his throat, he steels himself, pulling free from you again. “It isn’t right,”

“Please, Dabi,”

He’s sure you don’t miss the sharp, sudden intake of air sucked through his mouth when those two words leave your lips. He’s positive of it, because then you do it again.

“Please, Dabi,”

Your voice is softer this time, and the look he gives you is nearly heartbreaking, the perfect picture of a man being torn apart from the inside out, tortured and beautiful all at once.

“I—”

“Just until I fall asleep?” You try to bargain, bottom lip pushing out into an involuntary pout. Crystal eyes hold yours for a second longer before he sighs, chest heaving with the force of it.

He isn’t happy about it, about his apparent inability to say no to you, grumbling about it the entire time—you’re such a little fucking brat, y’know that? and only until you fall asleep, understand?—as he settles back against Tomura’s stupidly massive headboard, body going rigid and words hitching in his throat the moment you latch onto one of his thighs, nuzzling your face into his hip.

And really, he should tell you to get the fuck off of him. He should push you away, scold you for such behaviour, remind you that it’s wrong. He should. He wants to.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

The realization has his heart pounding against his rib cage, breath stilling in his lungs and then accelerating, escaping his nostrils in short, quick huffs, lithe fingers curling in the cotton sheets underneath him. Don’t be a fucking coward, his inner voice growls at him, berating himself for such disgusting weakness. It doesn’t matter if she’s fucking sick, that isn’t an excuse!

Because that’s why he can’t find his voice, right? That’s why his fingers are twitching with the need to comb through your hair and caress you jaw, right? That’s why your cheek, burning hot through his black jeans as it snuggles into his upper thigh, sends a whole slew of unfamiliarity—excitement and terror and all sorts of things he doesn’t know how to explain, can’t begin to explain—rushing through his body, right?

Yes, that’s why. Of course that’s fucking why.

The thoughts cycle through his mind like a mantra, as if repeating them enough times, branding them into the tissues of his very brain itself, will make them true.

That’s why he allows you to sleep on him. That’s why his stomach flutters at the way your tiny fingers curl in the denim of his jeans as they readjust, pulling him closer. That’s why it feels like a zap of electricity buzzes through his veins as you murmur his name in your sleep, whimpering a little as your leg hitches over his calf.

That’s why. He’s sure of it.

His head snaps up the moment the double doors fly open, and he’s never been more relieved to see his boss’s face in his life.

Those crimson eyes scan the room twice—the first time quick, frantic and furious, the second slow, cold and calculating—before they finally connect with cobalt, gaze blazing.

“Care to explain to me what the fuck is going on here?”

“Oh thank God,” Dabi breathes, words slipping from his lips subconsciously, body shooting off of the bed as if the mattress had pierced him, his movements jolting you awake. “She called me,” he snaps before Tomura can speak again, bewildered ruby eyes darting between the two of you. “She’s sick as a fucking dog, boss,” the words are spit between clenched teeth, all those nasty feelings, the feelings delayed by you, no doubt—anger, hate, jealousy, melancholy—finally surfacing, bubbling and boiling in the center of his chest. “She was too scared to interrupt your work, so she called me,”

And Dabi can see it, the vicious jealousy that flashes in Tomura’s eyes, can see the way it makes his jaw clench, makes his molars grind together, makes his breath slice through the air with each sharp exhale through flared nostrils.

“Daddy,” you whine, tears collecting in your eyes, glimmering in the golden sunlight as it sinks beneath the horizon. “D-Daddy, it hurts, it hurts so much,”

All of the derision etched so deeply, so firmly into Tomura’s face melts away in an instant as you make grabby hands for him, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and leaving gleaming trails of salt water in their wake, little half-sobs of that stupid pet name hitching in your throat.

“Now that you are no longer preoccupied,” Dabi draws Tomura’s attention back towards himself, raising an eyebrow in challenge, daring his boss to retaliate. “I’ll be leaving. I trust that you can take care of her now, yeah?”

The words are practically snarled out, almost patronizing in tone, but he doesn’t wait for a response, tucking his head down as a shoulder knocks against his boss while stomping out of the room, heavy boots echoing throughout the quiet penthouse. Eyes squeeze shut tightly as he tries to ignore Tomura’s gentle coos, tries to ignore your cute, pathetic little wails and whimpers of Daddy, Daddy!, tries to ignore the sudden inexplicable ache that sears through his chest, settling deep at the core of his body and throbbing.

He can still smell you on his fucking skin, dainty notes of tiger orchid and toffee clinging to him. He promises himself he’ll hop in the shower and scrub any remnants of you off his flesh the moment he steps foot in his own apartment. He vows to himself that he’ll will this stupid, irksome feeling away—that he’ll rid himself of this irritating worry and unfamiliar concern the moment he gets home.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

Because no matter how hard he tries, he’s unable to get you out of his head, soft needy whines of his name and perfect pouty lips invading his mind like a virus, infecting all of his thoughts, worming their way through his brain like some sort of invasive parasite.

The whole excursion lasted a mere two hours, even though Dabi was sure he spent the entire day with you in that bed, leaving nearly his entire evening free, just like he wanted.

That is what he wanted, isn’t it?

Of course it is. Of course.

So why does he spend the entire night wondering if you’re okay, if Tomura is taking good care of you, if he called his personal doctor to come check and diagnose you? Why does he waste hours typing out a short text message to send to you, only to erase it and type it out again, over and over and over, chewing his bottom lip raw in the process? Why does he dream of you that night, of soft smiles and glittering eyes, cute giggles and tiny palms burning his skin, gentle whispers and Please, Dabi?

Why?

And he should be shoving these feelings away, should be burying them deep within himself, should be numbing them with soft white powder and pretty white pills, should be forgetting them.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

[imherongraystairstrash]

Puzzles

A/N: Idk if this is good, but I wanted to write it so bad, so I did it because I can:

Ship: Sophideon + Family fluff

Title: Puzzles

...

Sophie woke to the warmth of Gideon’s body and the crackling of the fire in the hearth. She could also hear the children, speaking in hushed tones and giggles. Cracking open an eye, she saw that they were currently sitting side-by-side by the coffee table, their backs facing her. Her left arm was resting on Gideon’s chest, and it rose and fell with his steady breathing.

She realized that their legs were tangled together under the thick blanket that she could only assume their children had placed over them. She closed her eyes and took a blissful stretch before resting her temple on her husband’s shoulder. He was still asleep, emitting soft snores that she felt in her belly.

They had been patrolling all night, and had barely gotten any sleep before their children woke them up again, ready to begin the day. Sophie and Gideon lasted until midday before they must have fallen asleep. The fact that they’d managed to stay awake that long surprised Sophie.

She wiggled her toes a little bit and adjusted herself, so that she could stretch the leg that was thrown over Gideon’s hips. His hand was warm on the small of her back, and she didn’t want to accidentally shift in such a way that would cause it to slip off her. Therefore, each movement was minuscule and delicate.

Gideon’s breath stirred the smallest tendrils of her hair. She looked up at him, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. She loved him very much. So much so, she often surprised herself, as she had never thought she could ever love someone again, after what had happened to her all those years ago. She kissed his jawline and put her ear to his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat against her cheek.

It was times such as these that she felt as if the world stopped at her fingertips; like no matter what happened, she would be fine, as long as she were here, with Gideon by her side and their children near.

She heard Gideon grunt softly, as he always did before he woke up, before slowly opening his eyes. He blinked a little, his dazed eyes slowly roaming the room, and closed them once more. He turned to where she was, resting the tip of his nose against her forehead.

“Good morning,” he muttered, his voice an octave deeper than usual and thick with sleep.

“Evening is more like it,” she replied, reaching up to stroke his impossibly soft hair.

She felt Gideon’s muscles shift as he stretched them, the hand he had on her waist tensing briefly as he did so.

Finally, Gideon let out a breath through his nose and said, “that was the greatest sleep I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

Sophie chuckled softly. “I would have thought the best sleep of your life would have been on our wedding night.”

Gideon opened his eyes and smiled, “we didn’t do much sleeping that night, though, did we?”

Sophie nudged him with her elbow. “Why is it that you’re only like this around me? You act diplomatically and mature to everybody, and yet you say the most scandalous things when it is just us.”

Gideon pressed a soft and lasting kiss on her lips. He then brought his lips close to her ear and muttered, “I’m not trying to woo everybody else,” before kissing the spot where her jawline began.

Sophie’s eyes shuttered closed, Gideon’s warm breath sending shivers down her spine, but she turned her face away from him and nodded in the direction of their children. “We should spare them the sight of their parents kissing.”

Gideon turned to where they were huddled around the puzzle. Sophie resisted the urge to turn his face towards her and kiss him regardless.

He looks back at her soon enough, his sea green eyes bright in the soft light the fire emitted.

“They’re not paying attention.” He said, brushing a strand of her hair away from her face with his knuckle. “They have their backs to us.”

“They could turn around at any second and begin shrieking, like two of them did last time.” Sophie said.

It was no mystery to anybody who the two that had done said shrieking were.

Gideon presses his lips together at the memory of that before raising his eyebrows and smirking.

“What’s that smirk all about?” Sophie asked.

Before Sophie could so much as to guess what it could be about, Gideon turned on his side and lifted the thick blanket so that it shielded them from the children.

“How is this?” He asked, kissing her nose.

Sophie huffed out a laugh. “It’s better, I suppose. At least this way, our eardrums will remain intact.”

“Hallelujah.” Gideon said, flashing her a dazzling smile, that made her insides melt. She put both of her hands on either side of his face and lowered his lips towards her own. They kissed softly, unrushed and lavishingly so.

Gideon was so warm. His body seemed to emit heat when he slept, which meant that right now, his skin was hot enough that it felt as though Sophie were standing right in front of a furnace. It ended up working in their favor, because whenever Thomas gets too cold at night, they plant him next to Gideon and he’s able to fall asleep. They’re absolutely adorable when they sleep together, if Sophie does say so herself.

Sophie giggled against his lips, causing them to break apart.

“What?” Gideon asked, his smile soft as he kissed the corners of her lips.

“I just thought about something silly.” She said, spreading her hands on his chest and roaming upward, intertwining them at the nape of his neck.

“Would you care to elaborate?”

Sophie shook her head giggling.

“Come now,” he said, playfully, “I’m dying of curiosity.”

“Alright. I was thinking about the time you slipped off the roof while we were patrolling in London.”

Gideon laughed through his nose, burying his nose in a particularly sensitive spot of her neck. “I’m never living that down, aren’t I?”

Sophie shrugged her left shoulder and kissed Gideon’s bottom lip when he lifted his head.

“Not a chance.”

His eyes fluttered shut as he kissed her shamelessly, his hands sending shivers through her as they travelled up and down the sensitive skin of her waist and hips.

“We should stop,” Gideon said, breaking apart. “Before they realize we’re awake.”

“Yes, I suppose we should.” Sophie said.

They kissed once, twice and then thrice (for good measure) before reemerging from the blanket.

Once they’d gotten over their daze, they arranged themselves in each other's arms, fitting like pieces of a puzzle, and gazed towards their children. They were quiet as they built a puzzle Sophie had left out for them while she and Gideon rested on the couch for a while. They hadn’t expected to fall asleep, but thankfully, the children were still entertained by the puzzle. Barbara had a blanket over her shoulders and had placed little Thomas in her crossed legs, periodically hugging him and adjusting the blanket, so that he didn’t get cold.

Thomas, on the other hand, took every opportunity Barbara was looking away to try to crawl out from the blankets and watch the puzzle-making action.

Eugenia was humming to herself, picking up random pieces and fitting them together. Every time she’d manage to get them to go together, she’d get up and do a little twirl, before sitting down once more and starting the whole process all over again.

Thomas was the first to realize they’d woken up. He gave them a toothy grin and crawled out of Barbara’s arms. Using the table to slowly get to his feet, he padded over to Eugenia.

When he got close enough, however, Sophie reached over Gideon’s chest and scooped him up. She tucked him into her arms and kissed his little cheeks.

“You’ve been caught by the love monster.” She said tickling and attacking him with kisses. Thomas giggled and tried to squirm away from her, but she held on tighter.

Part of her wants to hold Thomas forever. It felt like just yesterday he’d been born, four months and two weeks premature. He was still so small and light in her arms and got sick far too easily, but she thanked the Angel everyday for his life. Her miracle child. Who seemed very keen on getting away.

She stopped peppering him with kisses enough to hold him away so that she could see his face.

“You don’t love the Love Monster?”

He met her stare before putting his hands on her cheeks and kissing her forehead. Sophie

raised her eyebrows at him and when he giggled again, she tucked him in her arms.

“No,” she heard a soft voice say.

She pulled back. “What?”

“I love Mama, not the Love Monster.”

Gideon chuckled and ruffled his hair.

Sophie gave Thomas a final kiss on the forehead and let him go to his sisters.

They watched their children put puzzle pieces together, Eugenia aggressively so, going so far as to slam her fist upon two tricky pieces.

“Mama! Papa! Do you like it?” Eugenia said, gesturing towards the unfinished puzzle.

They both craned their necks to see.

“Oh. Erm…”

“We love it!” Sophie said.

“It’s lovely.” Gideon added.

When the kids turned around again, Sophie covered her mouth.

“There’s not a single puzzle piece that’s connected to its corresponding partner, is there?” Gideon asked.

“No, I’m afraid that in the hours we’ve been asleep, they haven’t managed to piece any together correctly.” Sophie said.

Gideon pressed his lips together and shrugged. “Well…”

“They’ll get more intelligent with age.” Sophie said.

“Yes, yes. I should think so.”

“I should hope so.”

They looked at each other and smiled, and then laughed, perfectly content with the life they had made for themselves.

...

Tagging: @tsccreatorsnet  @atla-lok143  @rinadragomir  @youngreckless  @autumnangel20  @julemmaes  @cupcakesandkittens  @no-scones-allowed  @ninacarstairss  @stxr-thxif  @writeforjordelia  @itsdaughterofthemoon  @jordeliasupremacy  @cordelia-cardale  @will-effing-herondale  @axoloteca  @heronstairs2014  @ilovemanicures @ti-bae-rius @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @readersconfessions812 @nightshade3465 @livvyheronstairs @zemiraa @proudtobealuthor @neurogliadudette

If you want to be on my tag list, or if you changed your url recently and your not in the tag list anymore, let me know! Also, if you want to be removed, send me a dm! I won’t be offended in the slightest :) Oh, and if you asked to be on the tag list and you’re not on it, please tell me (I’m very absentminded lol).

[rainpudding]

note; m will be in my next post, someone else already requested it >3

tw; depression,suicide and ed mentioned,alcohol dying and etc..

KAEYA | ANGST ALPHABET

catcall die kidnapped time

Kidnapped (you’re kidnapped)

Most people would say Kaeya would develop a strong alcohol addiction to forget that his lover went missing however I have to strongly disagree.

When Kaeya gets home and he can't find you anywhere he won't think much of it. Maybe you went to visit your family and forgot to tell him, or you're having a sleepover with a friend. On the outside, he seems calm as for the next three days he goes to work acting as nothing happened. But on the inside he is panicking, he gets his work done as soon as possible as he gets home just to sit down on a chair staring at the door. He Is waiting for the door to open and you to appear. He is sitting there for hours and hours.

After a week of you not appearing he blames himself for not reaching for help sooner as it may be too late to found you. He calls knight of favounius and citizens of mondstat goes in groups looking for you. Traveler makes missing posters trying to help at least a little bit.

Kaeya wants to forget you but he slowly loses interest in alcohol, it feels like it lost Its taste.

His public calm image is slowly breaking as his mind is filled with dark imaginations. He slowly forgets to eat meals or to keep himself hydrated.

Apart from Childe who gets obsessive filled with hope, Kaeya gets depressive knowing that there is no possibility you can be okay.

Jean first notices Kaeya's depression when she sees him standing in the middle of the hall. His eyepatch is missing his messy hair covering his eye. He wears only his white shirt as he is visibly confused.

The dehydration and sleep deprivation have a bad impact on him. Jean knows something is wrong and sends him home in order to take a break. Which does not help since Kaeya should have human interaction and get meds not be home.

Diluc gets worried as he makes meals for him carrying them to his house. The house is a mess as Kaeya is unable to clean which results in Dikuc quickly putting Kaeya's mess into the bin trying to clean up at least a little bit.

Kaeya, on the other hand, doesn't want to go to sleep but once he is asleep he doesn't want to wake up. He can't get out of his bed. Becoming more disoriented and slowly forgetting why he is sad in the first place.

He doesn't remember your face anymore, nor your name. He doesn't remember you at all.

And one morning when Diluc opens door to Kaeya's room holding breakfast to his surprise he finds Kaeya in his bed. Melatonin pills everywhere as he slowly realizes Kaeya overdosed himself.

But let's imagine you were found and you came home just before Kaeya got depressed.

You open the door with a crack quickly closing it as you finally feel safe. You were missing for almost three months yet since day one you were dreaming of the moment when you will be able to hug Kaeya again.

You look around finding your shared house slightly messy. The bin is filled with old food. The boxes on tables are also filled with untouched food. You wander around softly smiling at the pictures and decorations.

You pinch yourself just to be sure this is not one of the fantasies you always dreamed about. Opening one of the doors you walk in just to see Kaeya peacefully sleeping in pillows and blankets. His hair messy and his eyepatch still on.

You don't want to wake him up yet you're too excited to wait. You run to him as you hug him tightly. Sweet tears rolling down your cheeks as you sniffle Kaeya's scent.

Kaeya tries to push you away murmuring from his sleep before sleepily opening his eyes. They are dark as the ocean as the sparkles died down. His smirk wasn't decorating his face anymore. Instead, he sighed rubbing his eyes.

You would stroke his cheeks as you hold his chin softly. You're saying reassuring words while smiling with glossy eyes. He finally realizes that you're real. Grabbing your hands to squeeze them and peppering your face with many kisses.

And after a whole hour of hugging each other and you telling him about your kidnapper he decides to go to knights of favounius so they can throw your kidnapper into jail.

However, as he stands up you suddenly stop him as you look at his body. You can see how skinny he got, how his bones are seen, and how his skin is pale. Not to mention the blue hair on the pillow signalizing hair loss.

And you realize that he barely ate. That's why there were boxes with untouched food.

"Later, I'm hungry can we go for lunch first?" You smile brushing your thumb against Kaeya's hand as he nods.

- it would take some time for Kaeya to start taking care of himself again. But when you're with him he is willing to try.

- He will take a break to spend time with you as you cook together and clean the house later even going for a walk.

- eventually, give him few months and he will be healthy again.

Catcall (you’re catcalled and he’s with you)

Same as Diluc, Kaeya is well known and has a reputation. There is no way someone would catcall you on purpose. Yet let's imagine some drunk group catcalling you in front of your boyfriend.

This would go based on how bold they are.

1; if they will call you baby or any pet name maybe hinting something romantic. Kaeya will just chuckle as he is listening to them. He wouldn't get angry as he thinks it's funny how they try to flirt with you. "You should watch what you say, honorary citizens," he smiles as he is supporting his chin.

2; they would get more inappropriate or even try to touch you. This would make Kaeya slightly alerted. When they say something inappropriate he just slowly moves you next to you or into his lap. Or he has a hand around your waist. They will notice him and leave you alone. Yet if they continue even touching you he would be pissed. He doesn't want to make a scene yet he has to make a move. He stood up taking his sword pointing it at the drunk person's chest. He is glaring at that person as the person shivers apologizing. Kaeya's gaze is terrifying. But as soon as the person apologizes he hides his sword sitting next to you again.

The person will probably never come to the tavern again.

Time (you’re ill and only have a few months to live)

Kaeya started noticing that the last few days you didn't felt very well. And the symptoms you were experiencing were quite unique. Pale skin and black bags under the eyes because of insomnia. Hairloss and muscle pain. You not being hungry and constant vomiting. Scars and bruises randomly appearing on your skin.

His eyebrows were scrunched as he had a sad expression on his face. Yet every time you greeted him he quickly smiled and giggled pulling you into a hug and giving you lots of affection. You knew something wasn't right with you too, but you tough maybe it was an allergy or just some mental illness that could go away with few herbs.

Eventually, after the symptoms continuing Kaeya decided to visit Albedo. This resulted in you spending the whole weekend at Albedo's place. He took your blood and saliva, checking your bones and trying to massage the muscles. Taking detailed notes very carefully.

And when the tests were done and you got to know you're slowly dying as your organs are slowly collapsing, you couldn't do anything but blankly stare onto the wall. You felt hopeless. You knew you had few days to live before dying a painful death yet you weren't ready. All your dreams and goals were left in the dust.

Kaeya on the other hand couldn't believe it. He was following Albedo around asking him if It's true and how can he help you. He pinched himself several times, trying to get out of this nightmare. Kaeya grew desperate as he begged Albedo on his knees to make medication. Albedo would of course love to help but he didn't know how so he would dismiss Kaeya over and over.

Kaeya's wasn't mentally well. He would be obsessed with finding some medication. Contacting Baizhu from Lyuie. Spending all his money on different doctors and different people. He didn't even realize that at this time he should pay attention to you and go on dates with you. Instead, he was away in different nations looking for herbs and scientists.

Die (their reaction when you die/your reaction when they die)

And once Kaeya finally arrives home full of despair as he got few herbs but no medication he slowly walks around the room. But before he can hug you and reassure you and spend time with you he finds you on the floor. You were just taking few painkillers writing a diary entry as you collapsed eventually your organs giving in.

He would sit down in panic his eyes glossy as his breathing is slow. "Breathe, common please breathe, to the archons. Lord barbatos y/n breathe," he repeats himself over and over as tears roll down his cheeks. His hands shaking as he cheks your heartbeat.

Your body so cold and your eyes blank. Without a pinch of life. And that's when he breaks down.

Completely sobbing at your dead body. Brushing his hands over your skin as he peppers your face with kisses. "I'm sorry I didn't try harder, I'm useless, I'm a burden. I can't do anything right," he kisses you. But nothing.

You didn't wake up.

He kisses you again expecting you to wake up. In movies, they always wake up.

But this is not a movie.

This is a painful reality.

[holykillercake]

Emergency Light

ᴋᴏʙʏ x ᴍᴀʀɪɴᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

word count: 2.6k

summary: 

Female reader developed a crush on Koby since he stood up against Akainu in Marineford. Someday at a party at the marine´s, you get drunk, too drunk. Koby takes you to your room before a disaster happens. You two get stuck in the elevator while everyone is busy partying.

highlight:  You wondered if they were training kamikaze marines now.

warning: 1. ¨Do not press random buttons.¨ - LAW, Trafalgar; 2. Trafalgar Law is not part of this story, but his wise words are worth of quotation. 

notes: *knock knock* Hi, guys! After a terrible writing block, I finally finished @pure-kirarin​´s lovely lovely request, which I used as summary since it was really good! I really hope you like it! <3 A little disclaimer! At some point, the ¨too drunk¨ part vanished from my brain, so our reader is just... drunk, hahaha. 

𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖!

¨Y/N-san!¨ 

You were wiping a sweat drop from your forehead when the pink-haired boy appeared beside you, offering an isotonic drink and a warm smile. 

You did your best to hide the tiny heart attack you had.

¨Koby-san!¨ you shouted, smiling awkwardly. ¨Oh... is it for me?¨

¨Of course! You have been working really hard these days.¨

¨Thanks.¨ you took the drink from his hands. The heat and condensation caused a layer of cold sweat to wrap the bottle. ¨I just don´t know why they are making us help prepare this party. They have a team for this, Koby-san! Besides, we´re Captains now.¨ you pouted the last bit. 

¨Yeah...¨ he scratched the back of his neck. ¨well, at least we get to spend some time together!¨

¨I know, I just-¨ you stopped talking as his words processed in your brain. 

You felt your blood vessels dilating on your cheeks, leaving a hot sensation on your face. 

Perhaps he was just being polite, or maybe you were making a big deal out of this, but you couldn´t help. You have been fond of him for a while now, and you couldn't stop that involuntary reaction of your body when he said such lovely things. 

Koby realized the words that came out of his mouth, and the scene that followed made even your spirit giggle. His eyes opened wide, and you could almost feel his throat running dry with all his stuttering.

 If that was a blushing competition, you would be down to the second place. 

¨W-We´ve been on separate missions for ten months, right? I m-mean... and it´s not dangerous or anything, and-¨ 

¨Yeah, you´re right, Koby-san.¨ a smitten smile blossomed on your lips, and you tried to hide it by sipping the refreshing drink. 

As stated by the boy, you had spent almost a year in different locations of the Grand Line, leading missions of your own. That was the kind of thing you had to do as promoted Captains.

You had no idea where Koby ended up going. These subjects could not be discussed over snail transponders, just for precaution. In fact, you barely spoke to him during this time. There were only a few nights when you would exchange coded messages. 

Since you became Captains, your tasks have kept you apart for much longer than before. You couldn't help but miss him and wonder how he must be doing during those times. 

You have already met thousands of Marines. Some even stronger and more agile than him, but no one had his willpower. You would put your hands on the fire for that. 

Whenever you felt unmotivated or helpless, the memory of the boy standing up against Sakazuki, putting his life on the line to honor his fallen comrades made your blood burn hotter. 

He did what no one else had the guts to do. 

Too blinded by the bloodshed, in the end, the number of casualties made it clear that accomplishing the task was no reason to celebrate.

When the sole of your shoes stained with blood and the blade of your sword sliced through anyone who didn´t wear the justice symbol on their back, you questioned if the Marines had finally lost their purpose. 

You should be civilized and do justice, but not at the expense of soldiers who had families to return to. If the target had already been eliminated, why were you still fighting? 

A chill ran down your spine when, for the first time, you looked up and faced the massacre. It was as if before, you could look at everything and, at the same time, see nothing. 

If Koby hadn´t stood up at that moment, you wouldn´t be here today. Maybe for leaving, maybe for dying. But his act of braveness and courage returned a bit of your hope. 

You wanted to see how far he could go, and hopefully, you would be by his side. 

Before, you used to watch him, along with his colleague Helmeppo, getting beat up and beat up by Garp and always put himself back on his feet. 

You wondered if they were training kamikaze marines now. 

From your room, you had a perfect view of the training circuit, so you could see the cycle repeating itself over and over again. Boys, seduced by the idea of absolute justice, strength, and power to fight bad guys, came to Marineford willing to prove their worth. They would fall a few times before the sparkle in their eyes started to fade. 

Eventually, they would fade too. 

Those boys, however, fell and fell, being punched to a pulp, then patched back together only to suffer on Garp´s hands again. Watching them became your late-night entertainment, and seeing their improvements and growth turned out to warm your heart. 

At some point, you were assigned to be their opponent, and from that moment on, your days became brighter. They would share the craziest stories and tell the funniest jokes. Or not so much tell jokes. They were naturally clumsy and fun. 

Although, if you could choose, you would prefer to spend more time with Koby. Nothing against Helmeppo, he was just too much sometimes. But apparently, they came in a two-for-one pack. 

                                                             ***

It has been only a few hours since the party started and you reached the jackpot. You had taken all your frustrations on alcohol and rice cakes, and it showed. 

Every ten seconds, the memory of what you wanted to do disappeared, and that was somehow hilarious, making you explode in laughter and cause commotions. So for every ten seconds during the first hours, one of the last remaining sober in the enclosure had tiny cardiac arrests. 

Everyone was drunk enough to have a good time without causing any trouble. But the detail worth mentioning was that your party had started a little earlier, under the statement that you needed a little incentive to help you through the night. 

It meant that your energetically loud phase was close to reaching its end, giving place for your sleepy and distracted persona. Your eyes felt heavier by the second, light dizziness fogging your brain, but it felt relaxing. 

¨You know Koby is a type of meat?¨ you said, resting your chin on the table and giggling to yourself.

¨Y/N-san, I-I don´t think that´s the name of it.¨ his face turned red as he shifted on the cushion, adjusting his posture. 

¨Ugh, you´re so nervous Koby, you should relax.¨ you sang the last syllable. ¨Look at Meppo, he´s relaxing.¨

Your lips bent in a goofy smile as you watched your comrades building an okaki tower on Helmeppo´s head. The blonde had passed out on the table a few minutes earlier, too exhausted and drunk. He looked so peaceful in his sleep that a yawn escaped your mouth, catching Koby´s attention. 

¨Y/N-san, you should go to bed already. Y-You look tired.¨ his voice trembled when he took sight of your sparkling but sleepy eyes, rosy face, and messy hair. 

¨Hmm, no... I´m still good.¨

Another yawn. 

¨Come, I can walk you to your room before you relax like Helmeppo.¨ 

Your brain was working in slow motion, so by the time you thought of answering him, your grip was already tight in his. A little tighter than necessary, but you were afraid your wobbly legs would cease, and honestly, he didn't object at all.

The air outside the salon made your nostrils hurt within every breath, not because it was freezing cold but because the alcohol made your body run hotter than usual. Your ears felt like they were clogged, but that was merely the tingling silence on the empty hall. 

When he guided you inside of the elevator and pressed the corresponding button to your floor, your gasp, which echoed through the narrow walls, made Koby jump back, scanning for any sign of danger. 

¨Oh my God, look at this, Koby!¨ 

He watched you walk closer to the panel, completely mesmerized. ¨Uh... what, Y/N-san?¨ 

¨Wow! They never did this before!¨ you shouted, falling on your knees and leaning in like a child on an ice cream shop showcase. 

The boy kept staring at you, who pressed the buttons in a row with shimmering eyes. What was in that saké?

¨They never did...?¨

¨Look!¨ you clicked some more. ¨When I press the buttons... they light up!¨

A moment of silence fell upon the two of you, and although Koby always felt comfortable in your presence, he wasn´t sure what to do now.  

You, on the other hand, didn´t seem to mind, too focused on your groundbreaking discovery. 

¨Y/N-san, they have always...¨

¨This is so cool!¨

¨Y/N-san... I don´t think you should...¨

¨What does this one do-¨

A loud shriek escaped your mouth when the shaking of the elevator took you off balance, making your butt meet the floor in a thump. The lights flashed a few times before everything in your sight was pitch black. 

You heard Koby call your name, asking if you were hurt, but all you could do was hold still, fearing for your life. The alcohol made the bouncing feel like a devastating earthquake. 

¨Y/N-san!¨ you felt light pats on your shoes. ¨Are you ok? I can´t see anything!¨ 

Koby crawled on the floor, using your foot as a way to locate you. 

¨Koby, stop moving.¨ you whispered, but he seemed not to hear, lost in his rumbles. ¨Koby, stop moving!. We´re going to fall.¨

¨Wh-no! Y/N-san, are you hurt?¨

¨No, I don´t think so.¨ you answered, head swirling and heart racing in your chest. 

¨Y/N-san, did you press the emergency button?¨ 

¨No!¨ you stopped for a second, failing to hold your drunken giggles for yourself. ¨But that´d be a great idea right now. I think I remember where it is!¨ 

You twisted your body towards the panel, ignoring Koby´s attempts to stop you, and started to touch the many buttons, searching for the emergency one. 

Click. 

Click. 

Click, click, click. 

¨It´s not worki-¨ you squealed when the elevator struck again, piercing sound of creaking metal cooling every disc in your spine.

¨Y/N-san, please stop pressing the buttons!¨ Koby cried. 

The feeling was too strange. You felt everything rocking slightly, no light was coming in, and the adrenaline made it difficult for you to calm down and adapt to the darkness. 

Your breathing had already become irregular and heavier when the emergency light turned on. It was dim and greenish but better than nothing. 

¨Oh, no.¨ he said.

¨No, no. Don´t say oh, no.¨ You shook your head. 

¨Y/N-san, that´s the emergency light.¨

¨Yeah, so...?¨

¨So the elevators are not a priority now.¨

¨And that´s bad...?¨

¨Well, yes, because the energy is being used somewhere else.¨

You stared at him for a few seconds. All of his words made total sense, and in a normal situation, you would be able to handle it without further complications. 

¨Koby, I don´t know if you´re getting somewhere...¨

¨Y/N-san, there was probably a problem with the generators, and they had to redirect the energy consumption.¨ you nodded, starting to connect some dots in your head. ¨I think they are sending everything to the kitchen beca-¨

¨Wait.¨ you said with a terrified expression painted all over your face. ¨We´re stuck?¨

He saw the panic grow in your eyes. 

¨Y-Yes. B-But it should be back soon, don´t worry. Someone will come.¨ 

You remained in silence for the first hour, mainly because you kept falling asleep.

Little by little, the effects of the alcohol on your body began to cease and your temperature to cool down. Added to that, the darker the night fell, the chillier it got. So at some point, you couldn´t sleep anymore because your bones wouldn´t stop shivering. 

Koby handed you his coat as soon as he took notice of your discomfort. 

¨No, you don´t have to-¨

¨Y/N-san, you´ll end up getting sick.¨ he spoke, leaning a bit forward so you could take the piece of clothing. 

¨Thanks.¨

A huge smile rose on your lips when the coat fell on your shoulders. It was incredibly warm and had his soothing laundry fresh smell. 

Maybe with a hint of meat from the party. 

It served you like a cape, so you pulled the collars closer to your body and curled up to retain the warmth. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel like it was him. 

That granted you another nap. 

Still, after about twenty minutes, something woke you up. This time it was a sneeze from Koby, who leaned against the wall, hugging his legs close to his body. 

Guilt hit you right in the guts. 

You crawled towards him, gently poking his leg. 

¨Koby-san...¨

He raised his head and mumbled something you didn't understand. Maybe he asked if you were ok. 

¨I... I´m still a little cold... c-can I sit by your side?¨

¨Uh? Yes, of course.¨ he shifted on the same spot, only to return to the previous position. 

His voice was a little nasal and rasped, probably from the cold. You hoped he wouldn´t get a sore throat. 

The coat became a blanket that you used to cover both of your legs, although he made sure you had gotten the bottom end since it had more fabric.

¨Are you feeling better, Y/N-san?¨

¨I am, thank you.¨ you whispered.

¨Y-You can lay on my shoulder... if you want.¨

You smiled and did as he suggested, curling up closer to him. It took you very little to fall asleep once you rested your head on his shoulder. His body began to feel warmer, and he even asked if you wanted to hook your arm with his to maintain warmth. 

Using the last bit of boldness provided by the saké, you reached for his hand. You had this sensation, deep down, that the feelings you carried for him were reciprocated. But you could deal with this some other time. For now, you focused on calming down the fireworks inside of your chest. 

[EXTRA SCENE]

A roaring noise followed by a ray of light fished you out of whatever dreams you were having. You pulled the blanket up to cover your eyes and snuggled deeper into the warm body in front of you.

Nothing crossed his mind at that moment. All you wanted to do was get rid of the light and have a few more hours to sleep. However, a sound like a throat clearing caught your attention.

You blinked a few times, images of last night taking form in your memory. The last thing you remembered before blacking out was you leaning against Koby.

I must have slipped to the floor at some point. 

Your hands were wrapped in a turquoise fabric, and it didn't take long for you to realize that the fabric was wrapped around someone.

Koby's scarf.

Koby!

You ended up lying in front of each other, sharing his uniform. Your face a few centimeters from his chest.

After yawning a couple of times, you opened a distance to look at him. 

His face was wrinkled, brows furrowed, and lips turned into a pout. The round glasses were no longer on his head, and the bandana, like his hair, was frowzy. 

So adorable.

A louder throat clearing made you turn your head. The groggy smile on your lips disappeared instantly with the image of the elevator repairer, Garp, and dozens of other marines staring at the two of you.

[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.