#one day after Hero is in a rough accident. sitting on their floor and trying to patch themself up in a shabby apartment

[catcatb0y]

And the context is that they are gay and in love.

Dialogue prompt

"That’s funny I don’t see your dear friends here. Seems like nobody is coming to save you!"

"Oh but I know it. I've known it for a long time already."

"… And you see that’s exactly why you should have let me kill all these bastards."

Villain to Hero, somewhere.

[seijorhi]

Cry-Baby

A commissioned continuation of this soulmate AU by the lovely @pokemonfreak666 - thanks for your patience, bby!!

Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader, Kirishima Eijiro x Female Reader

TW non-con, nsfw, double penetration, rough fucking, minor mentions of blood, kidnapping

The water’s not hot enough. 

It should be; it should burn. The knob’s twisted all the way up, steam rising in billowing clouds, fogging up the bathroom mirror, but it’s not hot enough. You can still feel them on you. Everything else – the blood, saliva, their cum, you’d watched it swirl down the drain, sitting on the shower floor, arms curled tightly around yourself as if that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart and shattering entirely.

But the water’s scalding, and you can still feel your soulmates’ hands crawling over you…  their mouths… their cocks tearing you apart from the inside out. Why won’t it wash away? You’ve scrubbed and scrubbed, your skin’s red and raw but the filthy feeling won’t go.

And they’re just outside. Sitting in your bedroom, or maybe wandering around your living room, sprawled across your couch flipping through channels on the TV. Maybe they’re out there looking at the pictures that line your walls, you and your family, your friends. Fuck, maybe they’re in your kitchen, rifling through your fridge for a late night snack after fucking their soulmate six ways from Sunday.

You can’t go back out there. You don’t want to see them.

Is it awful to hope for some kind of horrifying villain attack or massive accident to force them to go and leave you in peace?

… Would they? 

You can’t imagine Pro Heroes not running off to do their duty, but before a few hours ago, you couldn’t imagine them holding somebody down and raping them either, and clearly they had no qualms about doing that, so maybe your Heroes aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. 

Then again, what difference would leaving make? They know where you live, probably where you work. There’s no anonymity anymore, it’s not like you can just slip away and hide from them. 

You’ve been in the bathroom too long already, you know that – you can almost feel their anxious energy seeping through the crack in the door. Too much longer and they’ll surely come bursting in. 

Patience clearly wasn’t their strong point, and it’s nothing short of a miracle they let you come in and shower alone. Kirishima at least had been more than eager to come join you, grinning widely and tugging you by the arm towards the bathroom– it’d been Bakugou, watching you pale and flinch through red, unreadable eyes who’d reined him back in. 

Maybe he saw how scared you were, how fragile the thread that was holding you together was. Maybe he thought that gifting you these precious minutes alone after what they did would in any way come close to starting to mend the damage they’d just wrought. 

Maybe he just hadn’t cared enough beyond getting his dick wet. 

You’d grown up thinking your soulmates would make you happy, love you in a way that nobody else ever could. The possibility of ever deliberately hurting them seemed like such a foreign and uncomfortable concept to you. But obviously they didn’t care enough about your feelings or your lack of consent to stop them from forcing themselves onto you, maybe you were nothing but an object to them. Something to take and fuck, because naturally you were made for them.

What did it matter if you didn’t want it? 

Your eyes drift down to the timers on your wrists, run down to zero. A quaking sob rips from your throat and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip to stifle it. 

“Why am I even here? In less than an hour you’re gonna meet them, and what am I supposed to do then, hmm?” your friend had asked with a laugh. “Be the world’s most awkward fourth wheel?”

You’d laughed with her, knocking your shoulders against hers with a fond little smile, “Well if they’re gonna be in my life for the long haul, don't you think it’s important that they meet the person who matters to me the most right off the bat?”

You’re terrified of going back out there and facing them, but what other option do you have? The only window in the bathroom is too high and too small to squeeze through, and even if you could, getting an apartment on the seventh floor had seemed like a great idea at the time, but it doesn’t exactly lend itself to an easy getaway. 

The flimsy lock on the bathroom door is all that’s keeping them out – with their strength it’s hardly much of a barrier at all, but it’s all you have.

Here in your bathroom, under the scalding water, you’re safe. They can’t hurt you.

You’d like to think that now they’ve gotten what they wanted, now that they know that you can’t run and their reputations can’t be tarnished, they’ll go. And there’s a little voice inside your head that tells you it’s a stupid, foolish hope. You know that the moment you set foot outside that door, things’ll never be the same again.

A few years back, you read an article on some tabloid website about an up and coming Hero who’d disappeared out of the blue after joining Hawks’ agency as an intern. Supposedly, they were soulmates, and once the Pro realised it, he’d swooped her up and taken her to some secret safe house to hide her away from the rest of the world, supposedly ‘for her own protection’. It was all rumours, of course. No way for them to actually prove the theory – and no one actually cared about some missing, low level Hero at the end of the day. It was news for a week and then everybody moved on.

Are they gonna do the same thing to you?

Spirit you away to some hideout where they can keep you all to themselves – so they can fuck you whenever they want without having to worry about you running off? You’ll never see your family again, or your friends… they’ll be your entire world, and just like that intern, everybody else will forget you ever existed.

Or maybe they’ll be satisfied enough just forcing themselves into your life, letting you go back to your job, your boring, mundane nine to five, never knowing when they’re going to pop up and take what they want. They’ll come over and play house, acting as if this is a normal relationship, waiting for you to come around and accept them. 

Love them. 

The thoughts makes bile rise in your throat. Your entire body aches from inside out. There’s bitemarks and bruises littering your skin, marks that won’t fade for days… you can’t let them do this to you again.

As if they can hear your panicked thoughts, a knock sounds on the bathroom door, and your heart clenches.

“Hey, babe?” Kirishima calls out, “You okay? You’ve kinda been in there a while…” 

That same voice, chanting breathlessly above you, “I love you, I love you– f-fuck– I love you!”

Panic, cloying and sharp tears at you. You try to answer, tell him to leave you alone, that you need more time, but the words catch in your throat and all that comes out is a pitiful squeak and he knocks again, louder, more insistent and it’s too much.

They're gonna break down the door and hurt you again. Hot tears well up and spill down your cheeks with an audible sob, and you clutch at yourself tighter, willing them away–

“Babe? Talk to us, sweetheart, you’re making us worried.”

The door handle jiggles insistently, and you bury your face between your knees breathing rapidly, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna–

“Move, Kiri,” Bakugou snaps.

You don’t register the snap of the lock breaking or the frantic footsteps that approach, the harsh sound of your heaving gasps drowning out all else. Then suddenly there’s strong, muscular arms pulling you out from the water with a muffled curse.

It’s Kirishima who’s holding you, you realise as a flash of blond darts back behind you to turn the shower off. And it’s suffocating, the way he clutches at you, big hands running along your back, pulling you closer, holding you tighter, words of comfort you can’t hear over the pounding of your own heart spilling from his lips. 

And then Bakugou’s face is filling your vision, the scowl on his face growing more pronounced as he studies you – shaking, teary, eyes wide and swimming with fear– 

Something inside of you just gives and you don’t fight it when the darkness swallows you whole.

—

When you come to, you’re lying on something soft – a bed, you realise, but not your own. There’s an arm slung over your waist; corded with muscles, tan, covered in fine, golden hair and faint white scars; Bakugou’s.

Which means that the warm breath gently tickling at your neck must belong to him as well. 

You’re not naked at least; a quick glance down at your body revealing they’d dressed you in one of your old tees and a pair of panties. You’re not sure whether that observation is supposed to calm or unnerve you; you’d rather be clothed than not, but the thought of your soulmates rifling through your things, dressing you while you were unconscious… is not a pleasant one. 

“You’re awake.” It’s an observation, not a question.  His voice is gruff, an edge of sleepiness clinging to the words, but it lacks the heat you’ve come to expect from the explosive Hero. He sounds comfortable almost – at least that’s the sense you get as his face presses up against the nape of your neck, his arm drawing you closer with a low groan.

Still, you haven’t uttered a sound. 

It feels surreal, lying there in your captor’s arms – and he is your captor, soulmate or no, there’s no denying that fact anymore. There’s a part of you that realises that you should be panicking, kicking scratching and clawing because you don’t know where you are, but it’s certainly not your apartment and you definitely don’t want him touching you after what he’s already put you through. 

But rather than the sheer, unrelenting panic that had gripped you before, it’s just… nothing. Dormant, lying simmering just below the surface, and you’re almost scared to draw breath, to shatter the sweet, tender facade between the two of you.

There’s no point in asking where you are, no point in demanding he let you go. They’ve shown you that what you want doesn’t matter here, so instead you ask the obvious question.

“Where’s Kirishima?”

Bakugou grunts, burrowing himself closer. It’s not cold in the room, but his bare skin burns like a furnace, just on the wrong side of comfortable. “Makin’ breakfast.”

Breakfast. 

You swallow tightly, but Bakugou isn’t done. 

“Scared the shit out of us, fainting like that,” he scoffs. “Should’a fuckin’ known you’d need us to come take care of you.”

His fingers, resting over your stomach, dip lower, sliding roughly beneath the hem of your panties as he grinds his hips along your ass. He’s hard already, you can feel every inch of it, long and thick pressing insistently up against you. 

Shame and indignation flare up like a match struck, but before you can even open your mouth to snap a retort, Bakugou yanks his hand out of your underwear to stuff his fingers inside your mouth.

Your first instinct is to bite down, but the blond at your back just growls, “Suck,” and you’re not stupid enough to think that hurting him (or trying to at least) is going to stop what’s about to happen.

Or maybe you’re just scared to test exactly how far you can push them before they really hurt you. 

Obediently, your tongue swirls around his thick digits, hollowing out your cheeks and earning a grunt of appreciation from your soulmate. 

“Always thought that my soulmate was gonna be someone strong,” he mutters, his hips still rocking up against yours. “Somebody who could keep up with Kiri ‘n me, hold their own in a fight. Never thought you’d be some weak as shit, quirkless little cry-baby.”

It stings more than it has any right to. 

Slowly, his fingers slide from your lips, a long, thin glistening strand of saliva connecting the two. It’s hard to fight the whine that escapes you as they return to your pussy, angrily shoving aside your panties before thinking better of it and ripping them off of you completely. The warm puff of breath that ghosts across your skin sends shivers down your spine, and though you can’t see his face when he speaks next you can tell that he’s grinning.

“But fuck, sweetheart, you’re goddamn perfect – everythin’ we didn’t know we needed.”

He kisses you as his index and middle fingers plunge eagerly into your cunt, not the rough, biting kisses he’d gifted you with the night before, no. These are almost tender, sweet – or at least as sweet as a monster like Bakugou is capable of – entirely at odds with way his calloused fingers curl inside of you, fucking you, stretching you out while he cruelly thumbs at your clit.

Katsuki wants you strung out and whining for him. For Kirishima.

He wants you helpless.

“We’re gonna keep you nice ‘n safe, baby. Won’t have to worry about a goddamn fucking thing ‘cept keepin’ your soulmates happy.”

It sounds more like the passing of a sentence than a reassurance, but you can’t tell him that you don’t want this. He knows – he has to by now. He just doesn't care.

You don’t hear it when Kiri comes back, not when Bakugou’s sucking at your neck, your pussy throbbing with need as his fingers drive relentlessly into you, hitting your g-spot with every flick of his wrist.

You might not have noticed the redhead lingering in the doorway, his cock tenting in his pants, eyes dark and glazed over as he watches the show unfolding before him, but Bakugou certainly does.

“Oi, shitty hair. You just gonna stand there and watch or are you actually gonna fucking do something?” His voice is rough and a little breathless, closer to a growl than speech – it makes your gut clench, a shiver run down along your spine.

When your eyes finally do meet Kirishima’s, your heart squeezes, your stomach flipping. Kirishima’s staring at you like a wolf readying itself to pounce, like he wants to devour every inch of you and savour the taste.

He grins widely, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Bakugou’s the one with the bad reputation – as explosive as his quirk, brash at the best of times and overly aggressive even with his friends – you have every reason to be terrified of him, even before he broke into your home to take you. 

Kirishima might be kinder, gentler with his touches (at least, he tries to be), but you’re a fool if you think you’re any safer with the redhead. 

“Thought you said you were gonna wait,” he says, advancing towards the two of you as he kicks out of his shorts, but the grin on his face doesn’t waver for a second. He’s not nearly as put out as he pretends. “I could hear the pretty little thing moaning all the way in the kitchen.”

Shame would be enough to flood your cheeks with heat, but it’s the sight of Kiri’s cock, flushed an angry red, veiny and thick, hanging heavy between his muscular thighs that does the job. The spit in your mouth dries, your heart thumping unevenly even as pleasure pools in your gut courtesy of Bakugou’s attention. You let out a sharp shriek as he quickens his pace, one hand reaching to grab at his wrist, the other clutching desperately for purchase at the bedsheets, but it’s not enough. 

Heat burns at your core, and unwittingly, you find your hips bucking up against him, fervently searching for more.

At your back, the blond chuckles, you feel the deep vibrations echoing through your chest, “Yeah, well you were taking too long.” 

There might be more that he says, but at that moment he slides a third finger into your dripping cunt, calloused fingertips slamming against your tight, gummy walls and you’re robbed of the ability to think. 

Your first orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, the building pleasure snapping like an elastic band stretched too far. A strangled moan slips out of your lips, and you don’t even notice the teeth sinking into your shoulder, Bakugou once more staking his claim as you cum for him. You quiver and quake in his grip, your cunt tightening around his digits and sucking them in further with a lewd squelching sound that you might be more embarrassed about if you could focus on anything but the pleasurable aftershocks of your peak.

All the while, Kirishima drinks you in, salivating at the sight of your drooling, fucked out expression, the syrupy slick that’s all but dripping out around Bakugou’s thick fingers, still stuffed deep inside of your pussy.

And maybe if he were a better man, he might allow you a moment to breathe and hurtle back down to earth, but patience has never been a virtue of his. He lunges forward faster than a man of his size has any right to, jumping onto the bed and all but tearing you out of Bakugou’s hold. You’re still reeling, panting and sore and dizzy with pleasure as Kirishima’s lips crash against yours, stealing what little breath you have left in a burning kiss.

Your attention’s caught on the way his tongue’s sliding against yours, trying to coax you into kissing back, the sharp, minty taste of him – you miss the way he grasps at his flushed, leaking cock, dragging it along your puffy slit. You miss the sound of Bakugou shedding his own pants.

You’re still weakly trying to push at his chest when Kiri slides his cock into your warm, welcoming cunt, his low, guttural moan lost to your lips. And despite Bakugou’s attempts at preparing you, it still burns, the sheer girth of his fat cock filling you up and stretching you uncomfortably. Tears sting at your eyes, a whimper catching in your throat as he hums in pleasure, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, impaling you further onto his length.

Yet you’re not given a moment to accommodate the massive cock inside of you – not as you feel another blunt, flushed cockhead pressing up against your already stuffed pussy. Realisation hits a moment too late, your face blanching, your heart skipping a beat as panic – sheer panic – chokes at you.

You try to push back from Kiri’s embrace, only to feel Bakugou once again pressing up against your back, trapping you between them. You squirm in vain, trying to kick and push, fighting even as the blond’s cock, not as girthy as Kirishima’s but still far too big for you to take with Kiri still inside of you, starts to force its way into your plush, velvety walls.

“F-fuck, she’s tight,” he grunts as you arch up against Kiri, your tits, still covered by your thin, cotton tee, squishing up against his bare chest in an attempt to writhe away from the overwhelming feeling of fullness, the burning, stinging, throbbing pain between your legs.

But your soulmates are far from considerate, not even as you start to wail, your nails raking down the redhead’s broad shoulders. 

“Your pussy’s a fuckin’ dream,” he continues, swearing with a hiss as he finally bottoms out.

It’s too much, you feel like you’re being split in two. Every twitch and throb of their dicks, every vein, every inch of them is pressed too tightly against you, your walls struggling to take them both. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, oh god it hurts so fucking bad, but neither one of them care as you start to sob–

No, Kiri just kisses away your tears, taking your face in his large hands and cooing sweetly when you beg them through gasping, heaving sobs to stop.

“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Look how well you’re taking our cocks – it’s like you were made for us,” he laughs at his own stupid joke, and all you can focus on is the pain as he starts to draw his hips back, your oversensitive walls screaming in protest. “We’re gonna make you feel so fucking amazing, just wait.”

And it’s not his wide, beaming grin that shatters you, or even the hunger blazing in those crimson depths. It’s not Bakugou panting at your back, his hands coming up to shove your top up so he can palm greedily at your tits, or even the lewd almost feral sounds the explosion Hero’s making as he and Kirishima settle into a maddening rhythm, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath and steady yourself as they fuck you.

No, it’s the sheer, feverish love you can see written across his face clear as day, the softness with which he holds you, even as he chases his own pleasure.

This is their version of love, and you – quirkless, weak as shit and entirely at their mercy – have no hope in hell of escaping it. 

[notchesandbullets]

Tangy Starfruit and White Sea Foam (Tiger!Todoroki x Reader)

Warnings: none, unless you count ridiculous amounts of fluff and shenanigans (oh and cursing). hints of BKDK and Kami x Jirou, pro-hero AU, aged-up!AU, Todoroki’s a tiger as a result of a quirk accident that happened on the job. Todoroki and reader are in a established relationship. Bakugou gets tied to a tree, Shinsou and Tsuyu are good friends, you and Todoroki may have a mishap on your hands in the near future. Featuring the rest of class A + Shinsou.

A/N: third and final piece for @ultimate-astridwriting​ ‘s hybrid collab!! i had an entirely different thing written out for tiger todoroki, it was 2.5k words full of angst bc real life is shitty atm but then bam, i got an idea while eating dinner and now here we are xD. get ready for sun and sand at the beach with a graduated class A!!

Words: 7k

Golden sun raised high in the sky scorched the earth below, turning the pristine white sand into scalding hot lava. But that didn’t hold back the group of 22 from surging forth.

Happy squeals that tumbled from the girls as they caught sight of the sparkling blue waves dancing on the horizon turned into wheezing laughs and yelps as the sand burned their bare feet.

Jirou whooped, a wide smile stretched across her face as she grabbed Yaoyorozu’s hand. “Last one in is a rotten egg!!”

“No fair, Kyoka-chan!!” Uraraka huffed as she pumped her short legs to go faster and catch up. 

Kaminari hollered obnoxiously, screaming all the way into the ocean as he tore right past you. 

“Do not run!!!!” Iida yelled, trying to make himself be heard above the clamor but to no avail.

You smiled at him sympathetically but he merely shook his head and followed after them to make sure none of his former classmates hurt themselves. 

They’re lucky to have you… You thought to yourself, clapping a hand over your mouth when the sound of him scolding Mina and Sero reached your ears from all the way across the deserted beach. 

You had found this isolated spot a long time ago, back when you lived on your own and had yet the privilege of calling anyone family. This was a place of comfort for you, a gem hidden away from the greedy eyes of the world looking to corrupt anything and everything that was pure. 

Here, you found solace. You found peace.

After you graduated from UA and everyone was giving each other teary goodbye hugs in the common floor filled with all the boxes of things they all had to move into moving trucks, you offered up one day. One day, if everyone wanted to come, you would show them a place very special to you.

The girls had a vague idea of where you guys were going based on the swimsuit dress code. In all honesty, maybe you should’ve made it a little harder for them, but they were your friends. And you were too excited. 

Here, on this beach hidden by dense foliage and sheer cliffs, your little piece of paradise remained a secret. Until now.

“Y/N, come on!!!” Hagakure shouted, waving excitedly for you to join them.

“In a minute!!” You yelled back, looking back to see if your boyfriend was following. “Shouto?”

You spun around in a full circle when you couldn’t find him, a frown twisting your features until Shoji came up behind you and tapped you on the shoulder.

“He’s coming.” He told you, jerking his chin back a few paces the way you guys came to signal where he last saw him.

You shot him a look of relief for his well-timed reassurance. “Thanks.”

Shoji dipped his head, hoisting the basket slung over his shoulder higher as he motioned for Tokoyami to pass you. “No problem.” 

A skeptical Tokoyami followed the gentle giant, muttering under his breath why the use of quirks had to be banned for today. Koda waved to you shyly and you smiled.

Iida had made it a rule for the day that no quirks were allowed to be used unless in case of an emergency. This was to do damage control and hopefully prevent a fight between Bakugou and literally anyone else. 

No one had any arguments. They were all here to relax, not think about their work life. All villains and life outside of this paradise was put on hold until tomorrow came.

You decided to wait until Todoroki caught up with you, and since everyone had raced on ahead, eager to soak up as much sun as they could on the one off day they were all able to get off together, you leaned back against the rough rock and tilted your head up to the sky.

Sighing wistfully, your eyes fluttered shut as the sun’s blazing afternoon rays warmed your body.

You knew what showing them this place meant, and you knew that your friends were fully aware of it. It had been something so special to you for so long that you sharing it with them meant that you trusted them a great deal. 

They were honored.

As rising pro-heroes in the world, they were constantly swamped with malicious villains, endless paperwork, press conferences and training the next generation. There was no time for rest.

But your former classmates were insistent that time be taken out for that purpose amidst all the craziness, especially Bakugou. 

Down time was important. It was necessary. Or else you all would burnout and then none of you would be any good to save anybody. 

This is why you chose this place. 

It was secluded enough where there was no paparazzi, no cameras, no exposure and no one was the wiser. Here, you guys could be as loud and as free as you wanted because there was no one around to threaten that fragile bubble of happiness. 

Heaving the bulging bag full of food and other amenities that you had swiped from Yaoyorozu as soon as you guys arrived higher on your shoulder, you wiped the bead of sweat from your forehead as it started to drip down your face.

“Shouto, c’mon!!” You encouraged aimlessly, since you didn’t know where he was. “Don’t you want to join the others?”

A faint rustle came from the bush a yard away from you and then it stilled. “No.”

You fought back a smile at the curt reply. You could almost envision that pout on his lips. Cheeky boy.

“Shouto~” You sang, fishing out a piece of his favorite food and waving it in the air, knowing that he could smell it. “I have a present for you…”

A beat of silence passed, and then two fluffy ears, one white and one red, poked out from the brush.

You suppressed a smile, knowing that would only make him leave in a huff and then his stubbornness wouldn’t let him come out and joy you for another hour. You couldn’t do that, he would miss all the fun!!

Waving it a bit more so that the enticing scent of the delectable food encouraged him out of his hiding place, you opted to hold your ground. “C’mon, Shouto. I promise, no tricks.”

His facial expression didn’t change but his ears perked up a bit and you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped you. He was adorable.

Todoroki’s face fell the second he heard you laugh. “You’re laughing at me.”

You stopped immediately and straightened up, shaking your head. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” He pushed back, crossing his arms over his chest as he stepped out of the bush with stray leaves clinging to his fur and branches sticking out of his head. Plopping down on the dirt, he puffed out his cheeks.

Your eyes softened and you set down the heavy bag, keeping your form relaxed as you tuned out the splashing and shrieks of laughter coming from the ocean.

“I’m sorry I laughed.” You apologized sincerely, never once breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. “I just thought you were very cute.”

Todoroki snorted, a sound so unlike his normally stoic and guarded demeanor, burrowing his face into his arms resting atop of the knees tucked into his chest. “That’s not funny…”

Your smile saddened a fraction as a memory washed over you as though it just happened yesterday. 

Trouble had a habit of finding your beloved boyfriend and last week was no different. 

The villain he was fighting against had a particularly interesting quirk, since he could manifest certain traits of people into their animal counterpart based solely on their personalities. 

Todoroki wasn’t put off until someone pointed out that he must have rage like a tiger, making him internalize everything and now a good seven days later, he still had yet to come to terms with his appearance and strange habits involving a diet of primarily meat. 

Fuyumi had sobbed how grateful she was that you were willing to take care of her brother in your apartment until the effects of the quirk dissipated. He was arguing with his father a lot more than usual and the tension in the Todoroki home had skyrocketed.

You brushed it off, merely telling her it was the least that you could do. 

Your boyfriend had a tough time adjusting to his new normal. Things were hard for him to grab and he couldn’t cuddle you like he was used to. He liked walking on all fours since he found he could go a lot faster when he used all his appendages instead of only half. 

His quirk, however, had been giving him a particularly rough time and the finesse he had honed of over the years disappeared overnight.

To say that Todoroki was upset about it was an understatement. 

He would do nothing else but sit in his room for days when you brought him home with you, refusing to let you in unless you came with a peace offering. 

That always smoothed things enough for you to talk to him and you were hoping it wouldn’t fail you now.

Todoroki eyed the fish skeptically, tilting his head curiously when you offered it up to him once more. With the pace of a snail, he uncurled from his protective ball and padded forward slowly, raising his nose in the air to sniff.

“Hungry?” You asked sympathetically. 

Todoroki hesitated a second before nodding slowly. 

Your shoulders dropped and you knelt down, holding it out to him. “Here.”

His eyes lit up and his tail flicked back and forth, gaze darting to you instinctively as though to ask if it really was okay.

You bit back a smile but the corners of your eyes still crinkled and you inclined your head to give him the go ahead.

Before you could blink, the fish was swiped from your hand and as soon as your eyes focused, you burst out laughing.

There, Todoroki crouched on the ground, chomping on the tasty treat.

Wiping off the palm of your hands on your hiking shorts, you beamed down at him, offering out your hand for him to take. “Feel better now?”

“Maybe…” He mumbled quietly as he polished it off before reluctantly accepting the invitation.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you or love to shower you with affection, it was just that he was used to doing all of that when he was fully a human, not a hybrid. 

It was weird.

He found himself clinging desperately to your old t-shirts when you left the home to go on patrol, waiting around for you to come back. He heard when your heartbeat would speed up whenever he was around and how your breath hitched when he leaned in to kiss you goodnight.

Ever since the start of your relationship, he had been the one to take care of you. And he liked it that way.

This dynamic was foreign to him. And he wasn’t sure if it was because he truly disliked you taking care of him, or if it was because of something else. 

Todoroki was broken out of his deep thoughts the instant you came to stand right next to Iida. 

Before he knew what he was doing, the edges of his mouth pulled back in a menacing snarl and he pounced.

The unsuspecting Iida landed hard on the white sands with an ‘oomph’.

“Todoroki-kun!! Please control yourself!!” Iida shouted, doing his best not to hurt him as the tiger hybrid clawed at him.

You gasped. “Shouto!! Oh my gosh, Iida, I’m so sorry!!”

Pulling him off of the other, you went rigid as your boyfriend whined in your ear. The sound was too low for anyone else to pick up on, but you heard it. 

“What’s wrong?” You whispered as Iida brushed off his swim shorts, thrusting his hand straight up into the air to stop Kaminari from drowning himself in an attempt to prove to Sero and Mina that he could hold his breath longer than they could.

Todoroki wrapped his arms around your waist, mouth pressed in a thin line as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. 

You allowed yourself to relax against him as he pawed feebly at your sides, getting as close to him as possible. 

With the increase in physical contact, the tension melted away from Todoroki’s broad form and you heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Awwwww~” You cooed teasingly, reaching behind you to pinch his cheek gently and tugging until his smile morphed into a scowl. “Who’s the big scary tiger?”

Todoroki swatted you away, scrambling back until he was free from your affectionate hold on him. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t control his protective instincts and it certainly wasn’t his fault for reacting the way that he did when he smelled Iida’s scent all over you. You were his.

Of course he was going to protect you.

Baring his teeth at the tease, he hissed, tiny fangs on display. 

You shouldn’t have found that as cute as you did.

Two more bodies shouldered their way past you and you grinned. 

“Took you two long enough.” You smirked, wrangling your boyfriend back when he struggled in the firm grip you had around his arms to prevent him from knocking another person over.

The power couple had a habit of falling behind their ranks while getting lost in their own world. It was disgustingly cute.

Bakugou rolled his eyes angrily and gnashed his teeth. “Now you’re counting, dumbass? You’re worse than the shitty nerd.”

Midoriya ignored that comment as he sidled past you warily, forest green eyes sympathetic once they fell on your significant other. “Todoroki-kun still hasn’t changed back yet?”

He had seen the news coverage on it when the incident happened. Luckily, he wasn’t physically harmed, just physically altered, but it didn’t look like it was going away anytime soon.

Planting your hands on your hips, you yelped as Todoroki ripped himself from your grasp to tear off after Shinsou and tackled him next when he got too close to you. “No, not yet.”

Spraying white sand everywhere with his hind legs, it was almost endearing how his head raised and heterochromic eyes blinked back at you as soon as your voice sounded, silently begging for permission. 

You followed his gaze to the ocean spray behind you and shook your head fondly, suppressing a smile as you jerked your head in Yaoyorozu’s direction. She would watch over him and make sure none of the other boys bullied him.

“Go on.” You encouraged softly, and that was all he needed.

While Bakugou set up the tent for him and his boyfriend so that Midoriya wouldn't get sunburnt, not that he would ever admit to doing it for that reason, your best friend eagerly asked for updates on all the latest changes.

Whipping out his hero notebook, his eyes shone with enthusiasm. “What has he been eating?! Does he prefer tuna or white cod? Oh, oh, oh, is there a difference in his quirk?! How does it impact his—” 

Midoriya’s endless and excited rambling was cut off by his fuming boyfriend as he smacked him over the head and he cried out in pain, clutching his head. “Wahhhhh, Kacchan!!!”

“Shut the hell up, Deku.” Bakugou snarled, stomping past him to throw a bottle of sunscreen at you. “Put this on, shitty woman.”

You grinned, already squeezing the tube to squirt some onto your hand and slathered it on your arms. “Aw, you do care.”

“Go die.” He hissed, turning on his heel so abruptly that he almost slipped.

You refrained from giggling as he furiously, yet meticulously, took out various food items from the picnic basket that he had brought with. No matter how much he claimed he didn’t care about any of you, actions sure spoke louder than words. 

Class A had graduated from UA all together and each and every one of you had secured a spot as a sidekick for many top pro-heroes all around the country. Before a year had even passed, all 22 of you had made a name for yourself, so much so that you were all almost as famous as the pros.

Midoriya was the first one to start his own agency, no surprise there. But what was a surprise was Bakugou following right after to build one right next to his.

The general public suspected it was because that area where their agencies were was riddled with violent crime, but you knew better. You all did, really.

How could anyone miss the lingering gazes filled with adoration and passion?

“Y/N, come on!!” Shinsou hollered, ducking under Shoji’s arm to sprint back towards you. “You’re missing all the fun!!”

“Be right there!!” You shouted back, rearranging the tablecloth on the ground so that it would lay flat.

You still needed to grab the bag you left at the foot of the cliffs because it was getting too heavy for you to carry. But you chanced a glance up and the glimpse of your friends had a wide smile breaking out on your face. 

Todoroki was splashing in the shallows, completely soaking his fur. Jirou and Hagakure shrieked as Mina chased the two of them around, sparking an impromptu game of tag. Koda was in the middle of showing Tokoyami his seagull friend when Uraraka bumped into him. 

Tsuyu and Kirishima were beachcombing for shells a little bit away when Kaminari skidded to a halt in front of them with Yaoyorozu in tow.

Aoyama, Ojiro, Sato, Iida and Mineta were playing beach volleyball with the inflatable ball that the former class president had brought along with them. 

Dragging the beach bag behind you over to your spot that you set up far away from the shore so that when the tide came in, it wouldn’t wash everything away, you took out an array of towels, more sunblock, floaties, snacks, water bottles, coverups and a pair of sunglasses for Aoyama in case he forgot his again.

Standing up tall, you cupped your hands over your mouth and yelled, “Lunchtime!!!”

Several whoops and hollers pierced the salty air and you snorted when Midoriya almost tripped over his boyfriend’s outstretched feet in his haste to get there first. 

Amidst the clamor and friends swarming around you, you twisted around, looking for your tiger hybrid boyfriend. “Shouto—”

“I’m here.” 

You jumped as the low rumble sounded right by your ear, shivering unconsciously as his warm chest pressed up against your back. 

“Hey…” You murmured as he mashed the top of his head in between your shoulder blades before planting a soft kiss there. “Did you have fun?”

He nodded, resting his chin on your shoulder to look over it as everyone rearranged themselves in a large circle. 

You and Bakugou took care of the food prep while all your friends engorged themselves on the pre-made sandwiches and finger food.

“Oi, half-n-half bastard.” Bakugou growled, breaking the bubble of peace you two had with his temper that came out the longer your hands stayed motionless. “Stop bothering her, she’s not doing shit.”

Normally Bakugou’s crude language didn’t bother or upset Todoroki in any way, so you were shocked with a snarl echoed, washing over the group and effectively silencing them.

You squeaked as his arms tightened around you almost protectively and landed with an ‘oof’ as he pulled you to the ground.

“Shouto?!” You cried out incredulously as he unabashedly nuzzled his face into the hollow of your throat, setting his thick thighs on either side of you.

You rolled your eyes when Bakugou went rigid with anger. You could feel the heat emitting from your beloved’s glare as he locked stares with the pomeranian who was furious that the dumb extra thought he was flirting with you.

“That’s enough.” You scolded, though it was unclear who you were really talking to. 

Neither wavered.

“Icyhot, you dumb fuck.” Bakugou spat, never once breaking eye contact, even as the chatter picked up again. 

Todoroki snarled but the expression of rage contorted into meek sheepishness as you ran your fingers lightly through his hair, being mindful of his ears. 

Humming softly, you coaxed him back down to earth long enough for common sense to return to him. 

Todoroki bundled you up in his arms, tail swishing back and forth lazily as he held you. “Sorry.”

You shook your head at his apology, knowing he couldn’t fully control his impulses sometimes. “Not your fault.”

Bakugou snorted, smacking Kirishima in the face with a fish fillet when he asked to see what he was cooking. “Yes it fucking is.”

He just barely managed to dodge the shoe you launched at his head, straightening up with an enraged scowl etched on his features.

“OI!!!!”

You giggled, wiggling back to get comfortable against Todoroki’s chest. “You deserved it.”

“TAKE THAT SHIT BACK!!!!!” He thundered, smoke coming out of his ears.

“Kacchan!!” Midoriya cried out, wrestling back his boyfriend before his temper tantrum could reach the two of you. 

He begged Jirou or Kaminari to help him but the two of them simply flipped the bird to Bakugou, and he exploded. 

Literally. 

What happened next was a flurry of the class rep containing the situation and a spark of green lightning before it was over as quickly as it started. 

“I’m going to fucking kill all of you.” Bakugou seethed angrily, eye twitching from where his loving boyfriend had used One for All to pin him to the ground, tying him to the trunk of a nearby coconut tree until he calmed down.

“Ah…” Midoriya winced sheepishly as his glare turned on him. “K-Kacchan—”

Jirou’s loud slurping of the smoothie that Sato just made interrupted him and she regarded the fuming grown man disinterestedly. “Who’s up for a game?”

“Oh, oh, oh, meeeee!!!” Hagakure shouted, raising her hand high in the air alongside Uraraka and an intrigued Tsuyu. 

“MEEEEEE!!!!” Mina screamed, nearly blowing out Kaminari’s eardrums as he collapsed on top of his girlfriend.

Jirou pushed him off without hesitation, fighting back a smirk when he let out an overexaggerated whimper of pain, knowing full well that he wasn’t actually hurt.

Shoji stopped what he was doing to pay attention and even the usually shy Koda looked interested in her proposal on how to deal with the tied up pomeranian thrashing in place. 

Jirou raised an eyebrow slyly and everybody held their breath in anticipation.

One.

Two.

Three.

“PIN THE TAIL ON THE BAKUGOU!!!!!” Jirou screamed, holding up a sticky dart that they all regularly used for training.

How she managed to sneak equipment out of the agency she worked at was beyond you.

Jirou whooped, scrambling forward and held it up high. “I’m going first!!”

“Me next, Kyoka-chan!!!” Uraraka pleaded.

“Class A, this is highly inappropriate!!!!” Iida shouted, trying to curb the situation before it got out of hand.

Too late.

As the girls, save for Yaoyorozu, clustered gathered around a livid Bakugou, Tokoyami uncrossed his arms and pushed off of his post from where he had been keeping watch over the perimeter of the beach.

“I will join.”

You and Todoroki were both surprised, not expecting the normally reclusive individual to join in on the shenanigans. 

Your dropped jaw caught Tokoyami’s attention and the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. 

“I find great satisfaction in tormenting the souls of the wicked.” He declared impassively and a light bulb went off in your head. 

“Ahhhhh,” You drew out with a grimace. “I get it.”

Back when you guys had lived in the dorms, Bakugou had made the fatal mistake of scaring Tokoyami during Halloween, making the latter let out an inhuman scream that traveled all the way across campus. Even though he had sworn to the moon and back that it was accidental, that there was no way he was actively participating in the game that Raccoon-Eyes and Flat Face had going on, Tokoyami never forgot it.

And now it was time for his revenge. 

Tokoyami caught the tomato that Sero threw his way and tossed it up in the air with the most menacing glare on his face as everyone advanced to the struggling pro-hero.

“Bakugou, you ready?!” Kirishima shouted excitedly, removing the gag from his best friend’s mouth.

“PISS OFF, SHITTY HAIR!!!!” Bakugou exploded once he was free, yanking at his restraints even though he had no chance of getting out of them. 

His boyfriend tied them.

Hagakure tapped Jirou’s shoulder warily. “You think we should’ve left it on?”

The other girl shrugged nonchalantly, unbothered by the rage rolling off of him in waves. “Eh, he would’ve found a way out of it eventually.”

Shinsou twirled a piece of Tsuyu’s hair that he was braiding, boredly looking on at all the chaos as they all pushed and pulled each other. He had asked Aizawa to teach him how back when he lived in the dormitory so that he could do it for Eri whenever she came over to visit. 

“Shinsou-chan, are you going to take a turn?” She asked curiously, staying still so that he could braid her long hair properly.

He shrugged even though she couldn’t see him. “I don’t really see the point in it.”

“Kero,” She ribbeted thoughtfully. They were the only two not contributing to the shouting other than you and Todoroki. “I see.”

“Ehhhh?!?!” Kaminari exclaimed, losing his footing as he accidentally tripped over Kirishima’s foot and crashed into Shinsou.

Shooting him a sharp glare as all his hard work undid itself, Shinsou pushed himself off the ground, not sparing him a glance as he marched back over to the frog girl to fix it.

You giggled to yourself at Kaminari’s expression of mock hurt but pursued your lips quickly when his head snapped towards the sound. Pure smile dripping with innocence, your shoulders shook with laughter when he turned all the way around suspiciously, piercing gaze landing on his girlfriend as she doubled over with laughter at something Yaoyorozu said.

Bakugou thrashed helplessly against the coconut tree. “I’M GONNA FUCKIN’ KILL YOU, EARPHONES!!!!!”

But Jirou’s boisterous chortling was all that answered his threat.

You sank back against Todoroki, sighing blissfully despite the war raging on as they started the game, Bakugou protesting violently all the way. 

Angling your head up, your eyes squinted against the sun but you still smiled as soft fur brushed your cheek.

“Are you happy, Shouto?” You asked softly, quiet enough to not catch the attention of the others as they yelled for Midoriya to keep his boyfriend still.

He paused, choosing to play with the fringe of your shirt instead of responding right away. “Right now?”

Your smile dimmed a fraction, not expecting that answer. “... I suppose I meant just in general, but you could answer with whatever comes to mind…”

You trailed off, leaving the question itself open ended so that he could opt not to answer it if he didn’t feel comfortable.

Todoroki hesitated. “Where… Where is this coming from?”

Outright frowning now, you pushed off his knee so that you could sit across from him to see him better. 

“I was just wondering...” You said slowly, trying to keep the defensiveness out of your voice. 

Was he not happy? Why did he hesitate? Would he be happier with someone else? Did he not want to be with you anymore?

You shook your head at the insecure thoughts invading your head. That wasn’t right. He would’ve told you if he didn’t want to put work into this relationship anymore. You two had made that pact when you started dating, to break it off if one person no longer wanted it instead of stringing the other along and ended up hurting you both in the long run.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down from spiraling too far, you steadied your heart before opening your mouth again.

“I asked because I wanted to know.” You told him honestly, speaking from the heart. “Your happiness matters a lot to me, I always want you to be happy. That’s why I wanted to ask.”

Placing a hand on his knee, you smiled apologetically at him and the shenanigans from your friends faded into white noise as you tuned out everything else besides him. 

Your Shouto. The person you loved the most in this entire world. The one who had been with you through thick and thin and the one who swore he would never abandon you. 

He knew what those words meant to you. He had your heart.

And you had his. 

Todoroki’s heterochromic eyes softened a fraction and his ears and tail drooped as he realized that he had acted so defensively out of reflex.

“I—”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You reassured him swiftly, clearly. You knew what he was going to say. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Todoroki’s rapid heartbeat steadied at the loving conviction in your voice and a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in whooshed out of his lungs.

Reaching out, he laced his slim fingers with yours and tugged you closer to rest his forehead against yours. 

He closed his eyes and sighed. 

“I am happy.” He murmured quietly so that only you could hear him, emphasizing the soft declaration with a gentle squeeze of your hand. “I feel… the most when I am with you.”

Despite his words growing softer and softer, you still heard them and your heart leaped in your throat.

Swallowing thickly, you gave him a wobbly smile at his admission and fought to keep the tears at bay as you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips, commending him for his bravery and vulnerability when it came to expressing his innermost thoughts. You knew it wasn’t easy for him to do.

“I’m glad.” You sighed, trying not to get too caught up in the moment so that your emotions didn’t run away from you. “And I’m honored you feel that way around me. I will continue to do my best to make you happy.”

This time, Todoroki was the one to frown, his nose twitching in displeasure. 

“You do not need to do anything.” He stated matter-of-factly, tilting his head in confusion. “It is your company, I believe, that makes me feel this way.”

That was an understatement. You elevated his heart and spirit in all the best possible ways. With your encouragement and kind nature, he felt like he had the strength to do anything. Including tough out this quirk incident that was causing a huge inconvenience in everybody’s lives.

Todoroki ducked his head and hid a smile, recalling to mind the time you blurted out in passionate fervor that it was not an inconvenience to anyone, let alone you, when he confessed thinking such to you. 

You really were too kind to him. He was going to make sure you were protected forever and always. 

Nudging your temple softly with his nose, Todoroki purred contentedly as your sweet scent washed over him like the summer breeze. 

“Starfruit and coconut?” He questioned curiously. 

Ever since his temporary transformation, he had been picking up more and more of what you smelled like, and he loved it. But this certain combination was brand new to him.

The tips of your ears burned red and you gnawed on your bottom lip shyly. “Y-Yeah… it’s a new lotion. I liked the scent.”

Todoroki hummed thoughtfully, another throaty purr emitting from his chest as waves lazily crashed upon the shore. His arms tightened around you in silent request and his ears perked up as you repositioned yourself so that your back was flush against his bare chest.

“It smells good.” He finally admitted, glancing down at you.

You shifted in his hold, stretching out your legs and crossing your ankles. “Yeah?”

Todoroki buried his nose into your soft hair and inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as he thought about how lucky he was to have someone like you in his life. How much tragedy and hurt he had to go through, what he had to sacrifice almost to the point of giving up, when he met you.

You were his light, his partner, his everything.

Vibrant turquoise and cloudy grey hues softened imperceptibly as they gazed down at you, his tail coming around to wind around your thigh, clutching it almost possessively. 

“Yeah…” He whispered, allowing his eyes to finally slip shut as the sun got to him, exhaustion washing over him like a tidal wave. 

And you, you sat there in his embrace, ready for whatever this life threw at you next. Because in spite of the hardships, you knew that you could face it together. 

Playing with his fingers, you relaxed against him and wriggled more comfortably into his side. 

“Hey, Shouto,” You murmured under your breath, fully aware that he couldn’t hear you based on the even rise and fall of his chest. “When we get home…”

Hooded eyes darted to the bag you brought with you, honing in on the small cube outline bulging from the pouch on the side. The size of a ring box.

“I have something to ask you.”

Bonus: 

Everyone had worn themselves out. Night had fallen, the ambiance only broken by the occasional remark of the ocean spray as they made themselves known. 

Stars twinkled high in the sky and the group of 22 felt the most at ease that they had been since they assumed positions in society as top pro-heroes. 

Well, all except one.

Bakugou glowered at his boyfriend sitting a couple paces away from him. “Deku, I swear to fucking—”

“Kacchan, shh!!! I’ll never get this opportunity again!!!” Midoriya whisper-shouted at him, furiously scribbling in his hero notebook. 

He glanced up once in a while at your sleeping form draped against Todoroki’s white and red fur. 

He had turned into an actual tiger halfway through the night when everyone else had fallen asleep and Midoriya had no idea if it was because he felt at ease enough that he let go, or if this was another step in the quirk manifesting itself. Either way, it was incredibly interesting and he was jotting down everything he noticed.

Rolling his eyes when his fanboy of a boyfriend didn’t put down his pen, Bakugou tapped his foot impatiently. “Of course the fucking Number One Hero still is hung up over these shitty extras.”

Midoriya squealed excitedly despite the other’s discontented grumbling, clutching his notebook close to his heart. “Kacchan, it’s so cool though!!!”

Bakugou huffed, turning away but that was so he couldn’t see the pinking of his cheeks.

Alright, look, it wasn’t his damn fault the shitty nerd was so fucking cute when he got like this!!

Tugging at his restraints purposefully, Bakugou burned a hole in the back of Midoriya’s head when he refused to look his way.

“Oi, let me out of this shit.” He demanded hotly, trying to blast his way through, only to find out that the ropes were made of some kind of quirk-cancelling material.

Fuck.

“In a minute.” Midoriya babbled, waving him off as he scrambled closer to his slumbering friend to get a better look. “Todoroki-kun is so cool!!”

Bakugou’s eyebrows scrunched together at that and he frowned. “What the fuck, you shitty nerd?!”

Midoriya yelped as a red aura emitted from him. “Eep!!! K-Kacchan?!?!”

“IS THAT A CHALLENGE, DEKU?!?!?!?!”

“N-No, of course it’s not!!!” Midoriya replied desperately, waving his hands to ward him off and hopefully stop him from waking everybody else up.

That hope was diminished as quickly as it came as Bakugou roared. “WAKE THE FUCK UP, ICYHOT!!!!!” 

“I really rather not.” Came the dry reply, catching the both of them off guard.

Bakugou recovered quickly and his expression contorted into fury. “WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”

Midoriya approached him cautiously, hoping to placate him. “K-Kacchan, maybe we should—”

“HAH?!?!” His head whipped around towards him, wrists already chafed from how hard he was yanking against it. “YOU STILL THINK FUCKIN’ HALF-N-HALF IS BETTER THAN ME?!?!”

“I didn’t say that!!!” Midoriya cried out.

Bakugou leaned back against the trunk, vermilion eyes glinting dangerously. Every muscle in his body was coiled and ready to strike. “Get the fuck over here, damn nerd.”

Midoriya’s feet moved before he knew what he was doing until he came to a standstill directly in front of his boyfriend looking at him with an entirely different expression on his face. 

One of mild interest and pure determination.

Bakugou smirked. “I’m gonna make you eat your damn words, Deku.”

His eyes lit up at the implication and he ground his fist into the palm of his hand before untying the bonds. 

“Bring it on, Kacchan.”

.

.

.

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU TWO DO?!?!” You shrieked, horrified at the sight that greeted you in the morning. 

The two of them were covered head to toe in bruises and scrapes, and absolutely soaked. 

Iida was the most upset. “NO QUIRKS WERE ALLOWED ON THIS VACATION!!!!”

Bakugou stuffed his hands in his pockets and scoffed. “Vacation’s over, Emergency Exit.”

“THAT IS NO LONGER AN APPROPRIATE NICKNAME!!!!” Iida corrected and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I can’t believe this.” You mumbled to yourself exasperatedly. “You guys actually sparred all night?!?!”

“L/N-san, it was awesome!!!” Midoriya rambled enthusiastically, the glow in his eyes never faltering even as Iida continued to chew out a bored Bakugou. “Kacchan was so cool!!!”

You sputtered. “This was supposed to be a vacation!!!”

“It was!!” Midoriya insisted with a determined pout and you shook your head.

“You don’t understand the concept of a vacation, hospital boy.”

“Hey!!”

Tokoyami nodded, satisfied as Iida punished Bakugou with a week’s worth of chores despite the fact that none of them lived together anymore. “Vengeance is served.” 

“Anyone got any food?” Hagakure chirped while Mina whined in the corner about how hungry she was.

Kaminari was already rifling through the beach bag you brought with you, fishing out every single piece of food you had left. 

You looked on fondly at them as they handled the food emergency themselves. You were lucky to have friends like these. Ones that could goof off whenever and be as silly as you were, as well as be there when it counted. 

Todoroki tapped you on the shoulder with the tip of his tail, offering up a bagel he had managed to snag before everyone else emptied out the reserves. “Hungry?”

You shot him a thankful look, breaking it in half to share with him before munching on your piece happily. “Very.”

The two of you basked in the momentary peace the sunrise brought as Bakugou argued against Iida that he wasn’t even the one to start the brawl, even though it fell on deaf ears.

You bit back a smile as Todoroki’s tail looped around your waist, pulling you into his side and you laughed lightly. “Is this your way of telling me you want to cuddle some more before we have to go back?”

“Maybe.” He mused, gaze filled with adoration and humor as he fixated his eyes on you.

Todoroki blinked slowly, dipping his head down to draw your head close to his. “Y/N?”

You tilted your face up at his inquiry. “Yes?”

The depth of love in your eyes was reflected in his heart.

“Later today, if you get a chance, stop by my agency.” He requested somewhat timidly and you raised an eyebrow in surprise at the odd desire.

“Yeah… okay, sure.” You affirmed with what you hoped to be a reassuring smile to put him at ease, even though you had no idea what this was all about.

Todoroki chuckled softly at your lost expression. You looked cute when you were trying to figure out what he was thinking. No chance though, you could think about this one all you wanted, you were never going to figure out where he was going with this. 

“There is something I would like to ask you.” He hinted with a mysterious smile, unlocking his grip around your waist to stroll over to Koda and help him pack up the picnic basket.

It took a second for you to process. And then another passed before you realized what he meant.

“W-Wait a minute— Shouto!!!!”

Ringing laughter was all that accompanied your cries and torrent of questions as you asked over and over again if he was insinuating what you thought he was.

In a moment of bravery, he threw you a wink. “You have to wait to find out, Y/N.”

“No fair!!!”

“Patience.”

“UH UH, YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE A GIRL HANGING LIKE THAT!!!!”

“I don’t see how it’s any different than what you pulled last night.”

“... I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Todoroki shrugged nonchalantly, aiding Iida and Yaoyorozu in packing up the rest of the supplies. “Okay.”

“TODOROKI SHOUTO, GET BACK HERE!!!!”

“Wait six hours, Y/N.”

“SIX HOURS?!?!?!”

Your wailing only made that grin on his face grow. “I could double it.”

You shut your mouth at that ominous threat. Like hell he was going to do that to you. 

Todoroki smiled triumphantly but it only lasted for a second when you glared at him.

“You’re a cruel, cruel man, Todoroki.” You proclaimed dramatically, stumbling back when Kaminari took that opportunity to plop a heavy basket in your arms to make you carry it.

Todoroki’s shoulders shook with laughter at your attempt to catch yourself. You were as clumsy as a newborn deer. “I learn from the best.”

Your eyes glittered with mischief and throwing down the basket, you sprinted over to somewhere behind the rocks, disappearing from sight.

But your voice still carried.

“BAKUGOU, I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!!!!!”

[amethystpath-writes]

Hi!!

Villain’s lover finding out that villain is a villain?

You did something like this before and I really liked it lol

<3

Hiya! I definitely don’t remember doing something like this (maybe the love potion/spell story?), but I’d be happy to write this haha.

******

Pacing in the kitchen, Lover bit her nails until her teeth met skin. A few fingertips bled and even then, she continued to chow down on the dead skin surrounding her short nails. She didn’t know what else to do with her hands; they were shaking, and they wouldn’t stop.

The news still played in the background. Lover considered time and time again to turn it off, but she couldn’t because moving on would be easier if she turned it off. This wasn’t something to be ignored. Not at all. But at the same time, when she deliberately thought of it, she nearly ripped her hair out.

Where was she supposed to go? She couldn’t just up and leave, could she? That was a mean thing to do and her- her husband was…Lover looked at the tv again. The same image was on the screen- blurred from a clip of action, but no less recognizable. The masked villain- now unmasked for the first time ever- was, without a doubt, Lover’s significant other. What would he do to her if she left?

But she was running out of time. She didn’t know that for sure, but if she were a villain- or hero, or anyone who needed to hide her identity- and her face was realized, she would haul ass back home, or- or anywhere where she wouldn’t be known. So, maybe Villain wouldn’t come home at all. Maybe her internal conflict was pointless for this very time being, but…if he did come home and she wasn’t gone, she’d be trapped. And if he did come home and she was gone, she’d be likely hunted. Right? Isn’t that what happened in the movies? Or books? Or…well, Lover hadn’t really seen this scenario if she was honest.

Lover liked to watch the ditzy princess movies. She even had a magazine subscription to “Royals Suggest…”, a collection of fashion statement clothing worn by royalty around the world, all too expensive for Lover to ever buy, but she enjoyed looking. This. This is what Lover knew; a bunch of too-expensive designer clothing brand names. She didn’t know what to do when her husband was a madman who destroyed cities just to listen to their screams. Or what to do when-

A door clicked open and Lover’s eyes went wide. She let her bloodied fingers drop to her sides, then thought better of it and hid them behind her back. Maybe she should have grabbed a knife.

Listening intently now, Lover heard her partner’s footsteps tread through the house. He was in the living room, she could tell, and she suddenly felt very sorry for herself for having not turned the television off earlier. She squeezed her eyes shut and sunk to the cold, tiled floor quietly. Behind the island counter, Lover hoped she wouldn’t be found. Villain would have no reason to come into the kitchen- not yet at least. He always took his bag- that’s where his suit and mask must have been all along, dammit- to their bedroom after greeting Lover.

What if he didn’t go to his bedroom before trying to find Lover? She’d be found easily. Their house wasn’t enormous- not necessarily small, but Villain wouldn’t have to wander around forever. What was she even planning on doing, though? Lover’s mind was so panicked at this point that she only wanted to hide forever.

Wouldn’t that be a trip- for her to hide in her own house forever without Villain knowing and chasing her around city to city? Lover sighed, shaking her head. If she did that- or if she left at all, Villain would destroy even more just to find her. Then it wouldn’t be Villain’s fault, it would be hers. A villain’s accomplice, even if she hadn’t meant for him to respond that way.

So, what did she do, then? Self-sacrifice? Live with Villain, despite knowing who and what he was- what he was. What he is. He’s capable of so much- just to preserve everyone else? Lover couldn’t be with this man, but she couldn’t let anyone be harmed because she decided to run away.

“Lover? What are you doing on the floor? And with the lights off?”

Lover gasped, putting a hand to her even-more-rapidly beating heart. She sighed, setting herself into a calmer mindset- if that was even possible. “I- my head was hurting.” A loud bang resonated from the television- from the news, where they were still talking about Villain, but she pretended she wasn’t listening. “Actually, will you…turn the tv off? I was going to when I went back to the living room, but” -she shrugged on the floor- “I didn’t exactly make it back. It was playing-”

“Sh, sh, sh. You’ll give yourself a bigger headache if you don’t stop talking.” Villain chuckled, and began walking to the living room, but not before he bent down and planted a kiss on Lover’s forehead.

He didn’t buy it. There was no way he bought her act.

Wincing as she heard Villain hum in the living room, she watched as he passed back through the kitchen into the hall which led to their room. Lover picked herself back up off the floor and opened the fridge, pulling out a bag of whole carrots. Next, she grabbed a cutting board and a knife. She began chopping.

When Villain walked back in, she asked, “How was work today?” Lover asked this every day, but this was the first time she ever swallowed after asking. Chop, chop, chop, chop.

“It was an exhausting day, but- let me do this for you. You have a headache. I don’t want you to chop your fingers off by accident.”

“No, it’s fine. I got it.” Chop, chop, ch-

He grabbed her wrist lightly then plucked the knife from her hands. Villain nodded forward, telling her to sit on one of the barstools opposite of him. Lover felt she had no choice; she did as she suggested, even if it hadn’t been in a villainous way.

“Work was tiring. Some idiot decided to hack one of our major programs. Wasn’t as secure as we thought, so tonight I’ll have to do some repairs, and tomorrow…I’ll just have to trace the hack back to the original device and shut it down, so it doesn’t happen again.”

What he meant, Lover thought, was this; Hero managed to steal the mask off my face today in front of a hundred reporters and now everyone knows who I am, so tonight I’m going to fix my mask- just to poke the bear- and I’m going to find Hero so I can kill them.  She wanted the knife back.

“How long has your head been hurting?” The question was so innocent, but Lover knew- God, she just knew what he was getting at. The news had been on when he came home. He knew she saw and now he was playing with her.

Lover blinked, and then blinked again. Lie, she thought to herself, but she couldn’t think of a number. “I don’t know.”

“That bad, huh?”

She nodded slightly as she played with her fingers beneath the table. Her fingertips were so incredibly raw from her chewing at them in all her nervousness, but touching the sensitive spots was the only thing keeping her together. The tiny tinges of pain were grounding her.

“Did they report about the hack on the news?”

Her chest tightened. “I- I don’t know.” A sharp inhale and a thumb gesturing to the blank television. “I was watching Flintstones when I got the headache. I- uh- I stopped paying attention.” Lover looked down at her fingers before looking up again. “Do you remember the dino’s name from the show?”

Still chopping the vegetables, Villain said, “I don’t.” Chop. Chop. “I thought Flintstones played on a different channel? Weird, that it came on before the news.”

“Guess it was a special.”

Villain smiled at Lover and laid the knife down, bending so that both of his elbows touched the table. “I wonder if this happened to Hero when I ripped their mask off a month ago.”

Lover tried to control her reaction- she did. Despite her effort, her eyes widened, and she remembered to squint instead. “What do you mean?” A false and singular laugh. “Did you have a silly dream last night?” She gave a smile, a loving one, a teasing one.

Continuing like Lover hadn’t spoken at all, he said, “I’m sure there were many hugs involved. Maybe even kissing. Everyone loves a hero, right?”

“Whoever fights him clearly doesn’t,” Lover tried. Maybe if she referred to the situation from a third person perspective then he would drop it. She was an observer of the media, and she had a headache when it was on today. That was all.

“Maybe I should be happy you’re pretending not to know, but then that would just be ignorant, wouldn’t it be?”

“Villain, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are…Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should take a nap.” She didn’t want to, but Lover reached across the island counter and intertwined her fingers with Villain’s as they were lain on the table. “You said it was a rough day at work. A nap is always a nice stress reliever.”

He hummed in return, just like he did when he turned the tv off. Lover had thought asking him to do that was such a brilliant idea- thought it proved she was paying no attention to it. “You had a headache you couldn’t even stand from, but the moment I walked away from you, you found an excuse to start chopping carrots.” His fingers flexed- barely- as he said the word ‘chopping���. If anyone had been watching the interaction, they wouldn’t have even noticed the way his grip became tighter.

Lover told him, “It was no excuse. I always make dinner when you come home- even through a headache.” She smiled at him again. How long could she keep this up? How long until he accepted she was telling the truth?

“Come here. I’m going to show you something.”

“But the carr-”

“The carrots will be fine.”

Villain pulled her along through the kitchen and the hall until they walked into their bedroom. Lover could feel her heart throbbing against her chest. She already knew what he was doing. He was making it so that she couldn’t deny what she already knew anymore; Villain was a villain.

“You can sit on the bed while I grab it.”

There was no way out of this. Maybe she should have insisted she stayed in the kitchen while he grabbed his bag, but he wouldn’t have fallen for that. He would have known what she was up to, even if she didn’t.

Lover remained in the doorway of their bedroom, feeling safer there than in the bedroom where there was no hall to run down as an escape. “If I sit on the bed, I might fall asleep in it,” she said to Villain with a tiny chuckle.

“Naps are always a nice stress reliever.” She didn’t like how he threw her own words back at her.

Maybe she should just admit what she knew. Maybe if she did, this wouldn’t be so prolonged and drawn out. If she admitted it, she could stop wondering what he would do to her.

With a deep breath, she began, “I-” but what to say? Lover nearly told him she wanted this relationship they had to be normal, that she just wanted to go back to being a regular, human, husband and wife. This wasn’t what she wanted, though. She wanted to be rid of him. “I saw the news, if that’s what you want to hear.” Her head ducked down as Villain dropped the bag and walked towards her in the doorway.

His hand touched beneath her chin and she sucked in a broken breath. Villain tilted her head up gently. “It wasn’t so hard to admit, was it? Tell me why you were so scared to tell me.”

Shaking her head and squeezing her eyes shut, she reached up towards the hand on her chin, wanting to push it away. Villain caught her wrist with his free hand. She didn’t use her own free hand to try again. His touch was gentle, but Lover knew what it- what he- was capable of. He could crush her. Easily.

“Why couldn’t you admit it?”

“Don’t,” She gasped because of her panicked lungs. “Don’t make me say. You know the answer.” Because she was scared. Because everything was up in the air, now, unpredictable. He was unpredictable. What if he tried to kill her?

Villain’s head tilted and he stared into his lover’s eyes. “You aren’t the only one who knows. You aren’t the only one to watch the news. It would be foolish of me to act against you because then I’d have to do the same to everyone else, too. Exhausting.” His hand left Lover’s chin and went to her hair. He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. “Not to mention, I do love you. You know that, right?”

She shook her head again. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because- because you- you’re…” He was a monster, but she couldn’t say that, not so blatantly.

Taking a deep breath, Villain smirked- not deviously, but intriguingly. “I haven’t the opportunity to use this yet.”

“W-what?” Lover’s breaths picked up speed, and she didn’t feel as terrified as she used her free hand to push Villain away. “Use what?” What else could he do? On television, he could fly, and he was strong, but that- that was it! There was nothing else. “Stay away. Stay away from me, Villain. Please.” She kept her head at a downward angle, not wanting to face him- never wanting to face him ever again.

Villain was perfectly calm as he took a step towards her, forcing her back into the wall of the hall. She had no room to run. “Look at me, Lover. Just look at me, okay?”

“No. No, why?” Her hands were pressed, fingers flayed against the wall behind her.

“Because,” he said, and placed a hand on her cheek. She flinched, but what he said next made her stupidly look up. “I want you to see how much I love you. Eyes are windows to the soul, aren’t they? Just look at me, the way you did the day of our wedding.”

‘Eyes are windows to the soul.’

Yes, they certainly were.

Lover blinked, her eyes falling to Villain’s nose- a button nose, one that made her smile. She bopped it with a finger as she always did. “You’re home,” she said to Villain. “How was work?”

[bonny-kookoo]

Pretty Girl (J.JK x Reader)🎀💜☁️🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: (oh boy here we go on this one) good old sprinkle of angst, non-penetrative sex, foreplay, steamy make out session, mild DDLG themes, Dom/Sub dynamics, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Subspace, Teasing, Suggestive gestures, dirty talk, really, like JK can’t shut up smh, Koo is getting kinda rough with GG, sex in the kitchen twice (again), shower sex (pls stay safe), protected sex (again, we wrap it up in this economy and you should too), edging, cumplay, aftercare (a warning bc he’s so soft you might melt fam) yeah I think that’s it

Summary: an accident such as yours mainly affects you, that’s a fact. But people around you, especially Jungkook, may have been more unsettled by the events than he lets on.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl

During your recovery, Jungkook had changed a bit. It was a slow process, yet you noticed the fine details in the way he would treat you a little differently. It wasn't a bad change in any way- you guessed it was just because of the shock he'd gotten after the accident, which was totally understandable. Your dynamic had always been quite cliche in a way, with his bad-boy persona and your gentle nature. He seemed like the big bad wolf while you were the red riding hood, innocent and emotional. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

So how exactly did things change? Well, he wouldn't leave you alone for starters. It wasn't like he didn't give you space or anything, but he was more.. needy in terms of skinship. Whenever he played video games for example, he'd sit you on his lap, have you sit in between his legs with your back against his chest, or simply your head on his thighs when you were taking a nap or reading on your phone. When you both slept he'd be more clingy towards you than before, always reaching out to either hold your hand or have an arm around your middle. He started to become almost dependent on your affection and attention, and it was cute, you admitted that; yet it also made you worry a bit. It has been a week since you had gotten your stitches removed, yet he still seemed on edge. You hoped it would dissolve over time, yet you told yourself to talk to him about it if it continued. Something was going on in his head, that much you knew, but what exactly it was you didn't.

Getting back from grocery shopping, you immediately went to take one of the bags out of Jungkooks' carrying hand, one which held the ingredients for todays dinner in it. Yet he raised it up, making you pout. "Ah-ah Babygirl, 'lemme unpack the other bag and then we'll cook." He said, and you nodded, a bit suspicious. His culinary skills weren't.. too impressive if you were being completely honest. He knew how to cook ramen in his sleep at this point, but that was pretty much it. He'd also never shown much interest in cooking before, happily watching you cook- and that was fine with you too. You always found cooking and baking almost therapeutic, making something giving you a feeling of success you would crave on days were you felt low.

Yet once he'd unpacked everything, putting all the items into their proper place, it got obvious that this time around, you wouldn't cook anything. Because just as you had started to get out a cutting board, strong arms suddenly wrapped around your middle, his nose brushing over the crook of your neck playfully. He slowly walked you away from where you were trying to work, and backed you up against the counter next to where you'd put the cutting board. "Jungkookie I gotta cook-" You whined, but he wasn't having it.

"Nop, come on. Up." He said, but his eyes didn't hold the usual impish spark they usually had whenever he had something different in mind. You complied, simply because it was an instinct at this point, and he grabbed your hips to help you sit on the counter. "Tell me what I need to do, and I'll cook." He said, already searching for a knife. You furrowed your brows at him.

"Jungkook you never cook." You questioned, leaning your head to the side to show your confusion. He chuckled at that, mumbling something about maybe needing to change that, when you were suddenly grabbing his wrist which held the knife, making his head snap to it in horror. He was about to say something when you moved the hand to cup his cheek. Now it was his turn to be confused. "What's really going on 'Koo?" You asked, and his tongue started to move against the inner lining of his cheek, pulling his lower lip between his teeth- a sign that he was clearly nervous. "Is it still because of what happened? I'm fine Kookie, really." You said, and he sighed, placing his larger hand on your thigh, thumb slowly running in circles over your skin. He did kind of looked like a kid getting lectured, yet it also showed you that you were hitting a nerve. "Don't get me wrong, I love how close you keep me these days, and I adore how gentle you are with me, but 'Koo.." you said, making him look at you. "You're not being yourself." You said, and he ran the hand that wasn't occupied through his hair.

"I actually don't know either." He grumbled, yet you knew he wasn't being too honest. Your gaze was still demanding, needing a proper answer, and he suddenly sat down at the kitchen table, head in his hands. You carefully jumped down the counter- well, not really jumping but sliding off with one foot reaching for the floor to balance you. The doctors told you getting the entire functionality of your legs back would take a while, and you still needed physiotherapy every week, but that didn't mean that you always took their advice. You usually got your ass smacked by karma personally though, as you would get punished with agonizing muscle cramps if you overdid it during the day. Jungkook would gently massage your legs if it happened, a worried and almost apologetic glint in his eyes whenever he did it, always the hero who wants to take the pain away- though he couldn't, and that made him feel helpless, useless even. He's still feeling guilty, yet he's also not talking about it, dancing around the topic as if he had to try and explain to his parents that he'd gotten someone pregnant on accident. It felt uncomfortable since he never truly had to stand up for his mistakes, and even now he technically didn't have to since it wasn't even his fault- but he felt like he did. "I'm having nightmares." He mumbled lowly, face still in his hands. You sat down next to him, unsure what to do.

You decided you would give him the same treatment whenever you had a nightmare back when you were younger; your mother a firm believer that these unpleasant dreams could only be resolved if you talked about them. "Tell me about them." You said, not asking like you usually would. He shook his head, taking a deep breath as if he would prepare himself to bury the pictures again until he'd eventually had to face them tonight again. He didn't tell you, but he never really slept an entire night ever since you'd gotten back from the hospital. He would wake up in a cold night's sweat, craving to turn the lights on like a frightened child in fear of not being awake yet, yet he only settled with shining his phone screen on your form, calming himself down by counting every breath you took, each one proof that you were okay, that you were just fine, that you were still beside him. "Koo please. I wanna help you.." You pleaded, a soft whine to your voice, slowly making cracks in his walls. You sat down on the floor next to his slightly turned chair, making him snap his gaze at you, wondering what you were doing. You simply placed your hands on his thigh, your chin resting on them to look up at him with puppy eyes. Maybe this would make him talk. He chuckled, patting his lap after scooting back a bit. You gladly sat down on his thigh, legs dangling between his, his arm resting around your middle, fingers playing nervously with the hem of your skirt.

"They're about you." He started, swallowing, eyes not meeting yours. You decided to just lay your head on his shoulder, hugging his chest and making it easier for him to talk by not looking at him. "It's either- like.. sometimes it's the moment I ran to you when.. when you were uh.. laying on the sidelines you know? But I can't.." He took a breath, now tightening his grip on the small part of fabric. "I can't get to you I just- you're-.. I can't get closer, all I see is that young dude trying to like, do something, this like- Urgh I don't remember the word for it like- this shit where you push onto your chest to keep your heart beating, you know, that stuff.." His voice is wavering a bit you start to notice. You simply nod into his neck, giving him a sign that you're listening. "It always ends with the ambulance arriving, and they- fuck.. they just put this trashbag shit over you and I- god. I.." His voice gets a bit higher, a sign that he's close to tears. Yet you let him go on. "The uhm.. the other one is, like.." He inhales deeply again, and you tighten your grip on him, making him let go of your skirt, but instead put both his arms around you. "I'm like, at a churche and, oh god, you're like, in a casket, I know it's you, but every time I want to look inside the fucking thing closes, like, slams onto my hands, and I wake up. Like when you dream of these weird staircases where you stumble you know and you like wake up instantly." He said, hand moving to gently run through your hair.

"Do you still feel guilty about it?" You asked softly, quietly, because you didn't need to be louder due to the amount of distance you both only had. He simply nodded his head, still looking down. You knew it wouldn't help him if you went on and on about how it wasn't his fault at all, how he had no say in things like that whatsoever, that no one had, because that was exactly what hurt him. Jungkook was a bit cliche when it came to things like these; he wanted and craved control, he needed it to ground himself, which may was the reason he felt so comfortable and good around you. You both fit together perfectly because of this, since you came from a family where independence was taught from a very early age, having a father who'd demanded you to move out as soon as you had turned 18, and a mother who showed you how to run a household when you were just a little girl. While he loved being in control, you craved to let go and be lead without having to fear to be used like you'd been before. Yet right now exactly this character trait of his was making him feel miserable. "That's fine." You finally said, making him hum, urging you to explain that statement. "It's okay that you feel bad, it's understandable." You mumbled, nuzzling the crook of his neck. "Wake me up next time please. You wake me up when you have nightmares, and I'll let you carry me around as much as you want-"

"Deal." He said with a smirk, happy that the tension was finally snapping and letting go, clearing the air around you both. He indeed felt a bit lighter now, as typical as it sounded. Yet you always knew what to say, and it felt good to talk about it, that was something he had to admit. "I love you." He blurted out, and he could practically feel your cheeks heat up against his skin. He chuckled, hand slowly creeping under your soft sweater, caressing your bare skin underneath until he could feel the edge of your bra. You knew what he was hinting at, by now familiar with his need to be close to you after moments like these. It was times like this when he felt most vulnerable yet also the most sensitive to things- like a nerve stripped bare of its fleshy armor. It may seemed odd, but it was his way of grounding himself again, giving his pride and overall confidence a restart after having him expose his feelings like this. You happily agreed, nosing at his neck before kissing, making him smile. His hand opened your bra with well practiced movements, before he slipped his hand underneath the cup, caressing your breast in a gentle gesture.

You moved around a bit, spreading your legs over his lap to dangle off his thighs, palms stopping your hands from moving your sweater over your head. "uh-uh baby, you're gonna get cold." He mumbled before leaning in to kiss your lips, immediately feeling a sense of euphoria he would've never thought he could feel from a gesture like this alone. You whined a bit, but he simply deepened the kiss, tongue demanding entrance you happily gave him. Your hips moved on their own, yet it was in vain with how far he'd your legs spread, not giving you any chance of friction. He loved how your hands moved to only grip the hem of his jeans, yet not going further- it wasn't that you didn't want to, oh hell you did- but recently, he'd started to give you certain rules. Just for fun of course, mostly his, but you had agreed to them, so it was your fault of you wanted to complain- which you certainly didn't. He loved how it just added to his ego, yet it also filled him with a sense of even more will to protect you. If that made sense. "Hm? What is it?" He mumbled between his kisses, eyes still closed, as well as yours. They only opened a fraction once you whined, mumbling something he didn't hear clearly enough. "Louder princess. I can't hear you." He said, a teasing tone to it.

"I said uh.." You started, looking at him, eyes almost hazy. He loved this look on you, as if you slipped into a different mindset around him. He knew by now that you actually did, he'd read about it online, and he felt powerful yet also filled with pride on how much trust you had in him to let yourself go like that. "I said can I please have it?" You mumbled out, cheeks read and oh so endearing to him. He smiled at that, moving his hand over your cheek, having you lean into it like a touch starved animal.

"Good girl. Can you say it clearer though? What do you want?" He asked, and you slowly lowered your gaze, mumbling something incoherent again, and he chuckled. "Alright alright, small steps. We're getting there." Jungkook had started to make it a regular thing to try and get you to communicate with him more clearly, even in a state like this. After all the mishaps you both had in the past due to bad communication between you, he decided that things needed to change. He slowly placed your hands on his shoulders so you couldn't slip off of him, and carefully unbuckled his belt. "Hm.. but I can't put it in baby, you know that right?" He said gently, and you nodded, even if you pouted a bit. It wasn't that he didn't want to go bare, but you didn't take birth control because you hated any form of pills, and he understood that, never pressuring you. He however didn't believe in 'pulling-out' being a good idea since he knew he would never be able to control himself to this extend- so you both agreed on using condoms, just to be safe. Both of you were definitely not ready to parents yet, that was for sure. "Alright." He said, grabbing your skirt and moving the fabric out of the way so your underwear was exposed to him. The darkened fabric was already glistening as he playfully ran two fingers over the spot, making you whine and shift around impatiently. Laughing again he pulled himself out of his underwear, before grabbing your behind and showing you closer to him until his length pushed against your folds, finally giving you a form of release. you wrapped your arms around his neck, moving your hips while he made sure to push himself against you in a similar rhythm. breathing heavily, the tension began to rise around you, air feeling stuffy and thick as he squeezed your behind with both hands, grumbling sounds of pleasure against your neck, mouthing against your skin. He was quick to get both of you to the edge, shamelessly letting himself cum over your underwear as he sighed contently. You seemed to get sleepy, arms pulling him closer, whining when he moved you to get down from his lap. "We only had a small breakfast to eat, and I won't let my princess starve in this household." He mumbled, speaking to you in a deep and low voice you could drown yourself in. His gaze fell on your inner thigh, still glistening from his and your releases, and he stood up, playfully slapping a Hand against your butt. "Now go you messy baby, first to get clean gets to eat the leftover shortcake!" He said in excitement, and you wordlessly ran (still a bit wobbly, but way better than weeks prior) to your bedroom, Jungkook gladly letting you win.

"Are you sure I'm not supposed to lift the lid- OW!" Jungkooks intense need to look and check on everything was funny, but also nervwrecking to say the least. He wouldn't even let the pasta cook in peace, constantly trying to lift the lid- even though you told him several times before that no, they won't burn, and yes, the lid is indeed very hot. You had the lid a little tilted so the steam could escape a bit better, and you had told him seemingly a hundred times prior to just leave it like that, but this was Jungkook we were talking about. The lid clattered a bit as it closed on top of the pot, he himself sheepishly turned around to you who stood behind him, looking at him with a gaze that clearly said 'I told you so'. Yet he would never truly listen to you, as funny as that would be. "You gotta kiss it better now!" He exclaimed, and you laughed at his wide eyed look as he held his pointer and middle finger in your direction, the tips of his digits slightly red. You kind of wanted to tell him not to be a crybaby about it, but two could play his games of teasing- and you felt proud at the way his eyes widened even further with the next bold move you made. Typically you never did things like this, but over time you had slowly become more and more comfortable around him, giving you more and more confidence and ease in your actions around him. Proof of that had been the fact that you had started to grow more self-assured whenever you gave him oral- something you had never thought you'd do before being with him. Gabbing his hand with both of yours, you kissed the tips of his fingers before boldly placing them insider your mouth, soft lips closing around them. His pupils dilated dangerously, and this was one of those moment's you could've sworn his entire eyeshape changed- his typical doe eyes becoming slender and sharp, as he pushed his fingers down on your tongue, making you open your mouth. His own lips parted a bit at the sight, the way you showed him such an amount of pure submissiveness making him feel almost high of some sort- yet the moment was broken at the sizzling sound of the water dripping down the sides of the pot, the closed lid making the water foam angrily down onto the stove.

You both had split apart from one another like it was your hands touching the hot plate and not the water, and the way you scrambled to turn around and pretend like setting the table was the most interesting thing to do. Jungkook had swallowed hard, grabbing the red and blue oven mitts to take the pot from the heat source, shutting the oven down and draining the pasta. You meanwhile had to calm yourself down, now in a weird state of- well, what was is? Embarrassment maybe? Possible. Yet you didn't have time to think about it much when you heard the fabric of the gloves Jungkook had used to not get burned, hitting the stone counter with a little more force than they should. The man in question had stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you worried that maybe something had happened- automatically assuming that it was your wrongdoing that had set him off. Studying the wooden surface of the dining table, still bare of any porcelain you should've put out by now, you didn't notice how he'd crept into the room again, hard gaze and frustrated features. You only did too late when his hands had already turned you around by your shoulders, hooking underneath your arms to place you ontop of the table with ease. With almost comically wide eyes you stared at his- a look of determination sparkling behind their dark color. "Oh you thought you could get away with that pretty girl?" He almost growled, a rough edge to the low tone of his voice. "Thought you could just tease me like that, hm?" He said, suddenly not too concerned about you getting cold as he swept the soft sweater over your head, making quick work of your bra underneath with frustrated noises when your arm couldn't escape one of the straps fast enough. His hands instantly kneaded at the flesh, relishing in the soft feel of them before he dipped his head down, leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck, hands wandering lower until they moved to caress the backs of your thighs. "Hm pretty girl is getting playful isn't she?" He mumbled, chuckling darkly before moving his head away to stand to his full height, pulling on your knees to have your behind almost slip over the edge. You made a surprised sound at this, scared you'll fall off when he hushed you, tipping his head to the side a bit impishly, almost a teasing ghost of a smile on his lips. "Oh? Not so bold now aren't you baby?" He said, looming over you again, his hard on present against your core, making you move your hips, testing if it would be enough friction. He raised an eyebrow at this, hand coming down on your hip to still you. "If you wanna stop just say 'red', okay princess?" His voice was sincere, a bit higher even as he spoke to you, face serious. You whined, not in the mood to talk, but he moved a hand to still your face, grabbing around your chin softly. "No baby, I need an answer. Loud and clear this time." He said, and you pouted at him, yet complied, telling him that you understood. It was a little heartwarming to see his concern even in a situation like that if you weren't so turned on at this point. He smiled, before he removed your skirt, impatiently shoving your damp panties down your legs, not bothering for you to kick them off at this point. Grabbing the fabric of the back of his shirt he pulled it over his head in a swift move, hair a mess over his eyes, barely giving you enough view of his gaze. Your eyes trailed over his tattoos, mesmerized every time you saw them. His muscles flexed underneath his skin as he pulled his jeans down together with his underwear, deep V-line standing out against the rest of his bodily structure. He grabbed something next to your head before opening the foil package, rolling the latex protection over his length quickly before moving your legs to fold over your body to rest against your stomach, eyes locked with yours for any signs of discomfort. When he found none, he moved his attention lower, pupils dilating at the view of your very center so ready for him. Not even needing to get himself any harder than he already was since your small situation just minutes prior, he entered you in a slow motion, bathing in the view of his manhood disappearing inside you inch by inch, your whines serving as the music accompanying the scene for him. Oh he knew he'd never get tired of that view, he could happily die with this picture as his last in front of his eyes. Your hands reached for his, interlacing your fingers with his, himself using this to his advantage to keep you as close to him as possible as he picked up his pace. He didn't care about the legs of the table complaining a bit as they scraped over the kitchen tiles with the force he started to put into his motion, mind too deep into the moment to think about that right now. His thoughts were absolutely occupied by you, everything about you- the fact your skin always seemed to glow, looking and feeling so soft underneath his fingers, a perfect match for your equally delicate personality hidden underneath all that physique. "Ah-" He sighed, never letting neither of you have a break. "You're all mine, all mine.." He breathed out, until you squeezed his hands a bit, making him look up at you. You didn't say anything yet he could spot a bit of discomfort behind your eyes, slowing down a bit to let you breathe better. "Hng.. legs-" You started, and Jungkook looked at you, waiting for you to continue. "..they'gettin tingly.." You said, and he could see how hard it was for you to really form any coherent thought, let alone form a sentence. Yet he only smiled, moving you both around a bit, stretching your legs out before he entered you again, this time a bit more comfortably for you. "Good job Baby, thank you- ah- thanks for telling me.." He mumbled, kissing your lips desperately before his hand grabbed your chin again, opening your mouth for him to explore. His hands held you securely by the back of your knees, his hair starting to cling to his forehead with the help of his sweat which was slowly building up at this point. He breathed heavily, eyes never leaving your form, drinking you in like he was a parched man roaming the desert. Surely, your whines started to stretch longer and longer, an indication that you were getting close, making Jungkook pick up his pace, huffing a bit as his own release drew closer as well. The way your legs pulled out of his grasp, your core clenching around him had him spill his load inside the condom, groaning as he did so, gulping down breaths alongside you who laid flat on the table in front of him, his body only held up by his forearms above you, forehead resting on your collarbone. He chuckled after a bit, before finally standing up again. "We should really stop fucking in the kitchen." He said between a laugh, and you looked at him scandalously as if you wanted to deny having any part in this. "Oh don't look at me like that, you enjoyed it too!" He said, helping you stand up for a short moment before he placed his arm underneath your knees, the other supporting your back behind your shoulders. Carrying had seemingly never been an issue for him, no matter how exhausted he might seemed sometimes.

Walking into the bathroom, you went to do your business, (Jungkook insisting you did, even though you had told him you didn't have to pee) and the young man started the shower, water not as hot as he would like it to be, since he knew that you didn't like too hot showers- you were more for hot baths, something he was wary off after you had overdone it one time and went dizzy afterwards. After that situation, he would always sneakily check the water temperature before you would enter, sometimes adding cold water to it so you wouldn't overheat like last time. When you didn't join him after a bit, he peeked his head out of the patterned glass doors, spotting you sitting on the closed toilet seat, seemingly waiting. He chuckled, waving his hand to catch your attention. "Come on doll, we gotta save water, be all environment friendly 'n shit." He said laughing, and you walked over to him inside the shower to let the water fall onto both of you. He immediately grabbed a bottle of yours and his favorite body wash, rubbing his hands together with the lotion between it to warm it up as to not startle you, before he grabbed the purple loofah from the side, lathering it in the soap before he ran it across your backside, careful and completely immersed into the task at hand. He made sure not to scrub as relentless and speedy as he would on his own body, making sure to rinse the foam off of you as well. Something that always got to him was just how petite you looked compared to himself; his hands had started to get a bit rough from working so much these days, a stark contrast to your soft skin. He was fascinated by the very slight and faded scars you had on your skin, all hidden like these 'spot the cat between the owl' pictures. There was one on your arm near the side of your wrist; a burn you had told him before when you had started to work at a bakery. He could spot another one behind your ear, a mark that had wandered overtime, the only real evidence of when you fell off a tree when you were six. Then there were the most recent ones, still bright and present, a stitched line above your right hipbone, as well as some healed scratches all over that side of your body- but these small cracks in your porcelain form would heal completely, they would fade just like the pain he'd felt that day. When he turned you around to wash your front, even though you told him you could do it, he spotted different marks. Like the small birthmarks littered like stars forming a constellation, or the stretch marks most present on the inside of your upper thighs- something you hated, yet he saw them as proof that your body has grown, that you could even catch your own skin by surprise at this point. Whenever his hand ran over that part he could faintly feel the dents, yet it didn't gross him out at all. It made him feel fascinated, because all of this was proof that you were indeed a human being, and not the angle he always found himself mistaking you as. Gently, you took the loofah from him, using his own bodywash, before you repeated the same task on him. He smiled softly down on you, humored by the fact that you had to look up to actually reach his shoulders. Just as you were about to tell him to turn around, his eyes suddenly sharpened impishly, as he reached out to pull on the shower controls, switching to the detachable showerhead instead of the overhead one. For the first time he himself had no intention of satisfying himself in a sense of traditional release, but in another way. As he tapped his shoulders for you to grab onto so you wouldn't fall, he slowly pushed the showerhead against your center, your squeaks and the way your fingers gripped onto his flesh feeding his inner predatory soul. He increased the amount of water flowing through the silver-striped waterhose, the pressure on your delicate nerves leveling up simultaneously. You tried to close your legs but to no avail, the metal not giving away against your soft muscles. Your entrance clenched around nothing as your bundles suddenly snapped like a rubber band pulled too hard, leaving you yelping as you almost jumped at Jungkook, trying to escape his weapon of pleasure and the oversensitivity- but he had reacted fast enough, lowering the pressure so that you could ride it out pleasently, whining a bit while taking deep, shuddering breaths, your arms now locked around his neck, head against his chest. He smiled, the view and action giving him enough satisfaction that he didn't even think about you returning the favor.

After Dinner, you both had made yourself at home on your shared bed, watching a random drama on his scratched up laptop, him sometimes groaning at the fact that the charging cable disconnected randomly sometimes, darkening the screen for a second until he rearranged the already taped cable. You had offered to get your laptop from the other room, but he didn't want you to get up, telling you that it worked just fine. At some point you had yawned, eyes closing for the fraction of seconds it seemed, but in reality it was for more than three, sometimes more. Jungkook noticed how increasingly tired you got, kissing your head before he closed the laptop after pausing the video. He set it down onto the floor next to the bed, shutting off the light and pulling the covers over your bodies, arms immediately reaching around your body, pulling you close. "Hey, 'Koo?" You said after a bit, now awake again after remembering something. He hummed, giving you an indication that he was listening. "..nevermind. Goodnight." He hummed again, before he moved, snapping on the light next to the bed, pushing himself up on his elbow.

"Come on." He said, and you turned around, looking at him with squinted eyes because of the light.

You stared at his neck as you talked. "I dunno.. didn't you want something too, like, when we were in the shower.?" You asked, and he shook his head no. "But like, now I feel bad cause only I got something and you didn't.." You said, and he simply smiled.

"Nah. Its okay really." He said, but your pouting face said otherwise. "Hm.. I mean, I guess there's something I always kind of wanted.." He said, and your eyes widened at that, sparkling with the challenge he just declared to you. He loved how much you trusted him, not even knowing what he was implying, yet already willing to go all in just for his happiness and approval for you. He moved, looming over you. "I'm gonna be pretty mean though.." He said, voice low as he tipped his head to the side a bit, feigning innocence. "..you think pretty girl can take it?" he sing-songed, chuckling at your nodding after his question, and he soon made his hands roam under your shirt running over your chest, feeling your soft buds beginning to peak at his sensual touch, your body already responding to him. He really didn't need anything from you at all, the way you were giving yourself to him had been payment enough, yet he also couldn't hide his own need of being a little selfish once in a while. There certainly were things roaming around in his head that he wanted to turn into reality, yet the perfect timing to talk about it had never been quite right. Now could be the time though. You nodded cutely at him, and he grinned like the wolf in the red riding hood story, ready to feast on his prey like the canine predator pictured in the books. Yet the way he would be devouring you would proof to be way more sinful than what those stories could've ever told about. As he began to push his knee in between your legs, letting you grind against his bare skin through the cloth of your underwear like the desperate being you were, even if you were on the verge of falling asleep just seconds ago, he sighed at the way your face relaxed in pleasure, head pushing a little into the soft pillows underneath, hands reaching for his skin to get any form of physical contact you could get. He grabbed you by your wrists, pushing them into the soft sheets on the mattress you both laid on, ripping his knee and your only source of friction and pleasure away from you as soon as he noticed that you were close. You whined at this, pouting at him as you slowly connected the dots in your head, finally coming to the conclusion of what his intentions would be for the night; and he cooed at you teasingly. "Oh, what is it pretty girl?" He said, brushing your hair back to reveal the entirety of your face to him. "You said you'd take it didn't you? Or did my good girl lie to me, hm?" He hummed, eyes slimming down to slits, his dominating demeanor finally coming to the surface; a fact that you could not yet place as good or bad. "I don't think you did, princess. Good girls never lie.." He chimed, slowly ridding yourself of your underwear, pulling them down your legs until he deemed enough time had passed to continue for the second attempt. This time his hand found its way downtown, reaching between your already shimmering legs to push two of his fingers insider your core, gentle movements way too slow to actually push you anywhere near over the edge. It was like standing on a bridge; you could see the deep waters below, but the railings would always keep you from falling. He was relentless, ever the tease, feeding off of your desperate soft please under your breath, wanting, no needing to hear them more clearly. So once he felt you get close for another time, he sped up his movements for a second, making you wheep out before he pulled away as if burned, pushing his knees between your legs so you were forced to stay open and bare like that, breaths coming out short and cut to pieces. He hushed you again, gently running his warm hand over your lower abdomen, thumb running in circles just below your navel, as he loomed over you again, his hair falling onto your forehead, curled strands tickling your skin. Your eyes were closed shut, frustrated huffs of air escaping you as you peeked one eye open at him, making him chuckle. "Hm.. not quite there yet I think." He mumbled, his thumb pulling your lower lip from between your teeth, opening your mouth for him to kiss you deeply for a moment, helping your body and mind to calm down for a bit. It did nothing to soothe your lower regions, but it did help you to ground yourself at least a little bit, before he moved his body again, this time hooking your legs over his broad shoulders by the back of your knees, grinning sheepishly at you from his spot on his stomach facing your core, licking his lips before he placed his mouth against you, tongue making its way over your most sensitive bundle of nerves in a slow and agonizing motion. He took his time, playing around for a while just how he thought was fitting, eating away like a starved man who was trying to savor every little bite, before he pulled away with a wet noise, just before you could slip from his grasp. You sobbed drily without tears, pleading loudly this time, before he changed his position yet again, pushing his length inside as slow as he could, staying inside of you for a moment, before pulling out again, grabbing a condom from the bedside table and putting it on, chuckling as his own hips bucked a bit at the sheer sensitivity he'd gained at this point. He pushed inside after a bit again, careful not to touch your pulsing pearl as to not accidentally let you cum, bringing himself to a short release before he reached for your hands which clenched the sheets so tightly he was scared you'd hurt yourself. As soon as the still sensitive tip of his length had gently popped out of you, he could see the way your legs quivered, trying to desperately close up, get any sort of friction, tight hole clenching around nothing; it was an almost magical sight to him, really. He moved his hand over your center, gathering the slick of your body and moving his hand all the way to your chest, softly running his digits over the smooth flesh of one of your breast, humming gentle tunes to you. „Hm, you’re doing so well, you’re so good for me, that’s the last one okay?“ he hummed to you, eyes softening at your glistening ones, tears of frustration gathering over your eyes, clouding and blurring his image for you until you blinked them away, letting them run down your cheeks. The back of his other hand gathered them before they could travel far, wiping them away and kissing your cheeks in return, smile on his lips never wavering. „You’re so, so so good, gonna stop being mean now, okay doll?“ he said and you shook your head yes frantically, making him chuckle. „Then lemme see you fly little dove..” he mumbled, catching you by surprise as he shoved himself back inside you were he felt like he belonged, his pace relentless, inked hand reaching between your bodies to glide over your already pulsating pearl below. Your neck pushed your head into the pillows beneath, mouth opening in a silent scream, as your back arched into his chest, his eyes never leaving your form as you came with the feeling of pure euphoria. And even though it had only lasted seconds, the view alone had made him release as well, mouth frantically attaching to your neck, mouthing at the skin, biting, groaning, his entire body reacting to the way your hands scrambled to hold onto him, thighs shaking, legs pulling him closer. He truly had been a pure moron to miss out on a feeling like this before; yet he was sure that he could only fly that high with you as his wings. It has never happened before to him, but he actually came again as well, surprising himself which made him moan in a pitch higher than usual. He gasped, falling down next to you after he discarded the condom into the bin next to the bed, pulling you close immediately, needing to have you against his skin.

Jungkook was a man who only knew how to convey his feelings sexually. He never was someone to enjoy physical affection like cuddling or kissing, he was clumsy with his words, and he always found typical dates cliche and cringey. Yet he caught himself like this again, with your body in his arms, the window letting in the sun from outside, warm light creating glowing patterns on your exposed skin mimicking the stripes of the blinds. He couldn't help but feel like this was the most aesthetic thing he'd ever seen, wanting to take a picture of it but also not wanting to move and wake you in the process. This was your doing, the way he slowly changed over time, growing more and more into a person he actually started to like whenever he looked into the mirror. He no longer was the guy that stared back at him with eyes full of judgement, but a young man who's gaze was full of determination and confidence. And slowly this confidence wasn't just a mask, but genuine. And it made him sigh with a smile, closing his eyes to catch some more sleep with you and maybe even meet you in his dreams.

"Why are my shirts pink?!"

"You put my red skirt into the wash with the white laundry I guess?"

"Wait ...you're not supposed to do that?"

Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban

[sweetyyhippyy]

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 20.

Chapter 20: Questions.

(Not my gif)

Summary: Aftermath of the car accident from the previous chapter. Bridgett worries about the baby. And questions arise.

TW: Mentions of a car accident. Blood. Death and dead body. Mentions of throwing up. Hospital. Arguing.

Word count: 2.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything slowly begins to settle back into focus as Bridgett’s eyes flutter open. At first she didn’t know where she was or what had happened, she just knew her body was sore. Bridgett shifts in her seat, rolling her head slowly to look around the car. Instantly her head begins pounding, the whole car still feeling like it was spinning but she knew they had stopped. She grunts as she unbuckles her seatbelt, feeling the belt slide across her sore body. She feels something wet under her nose as she pushes the hair out of her face, she brings her hand under her nostrils feeling the thick substance with her fingers and looking to see blood covering her three middle fingers.

“Are you alright?” Luke’s voice comes from the side of her. She sees the window was broken, Luke standing outside.

“My head.” She mutters.

“Okay, let’s get you out.” Luke opens the door, taking Bridgett’s hands and guiding her out of the car.

She grips onto his arms, feeling unsteady on her feet as she stands for the first time. “My head is pounding and I feel dizzy.”

“You probably have a concussion. It looks like you hit your head on the window, you have a nasty cut on the side of your head.”

“Luke?” JJ calls out from the car.

“Stay here.” He says, running over to assist JJ.

Bridgett turns to find the car, wanting to hold herself up against it, and when she turns, she sees Stephen’s body in the seat next to hers, his eyes were closed, and his face was covered in blood. Bridgett watched for any signs of breathing from his chest, but after staring at him for almost a minute, she saw nothing.

“Oh my god.” She whispers, covering her mouth with her hand as she begins to cry.

He has a wife. Two kids. How are we going to tell Monica?

From across the car she sees Penelope and Matt rushing over to JJ and Luke, checking in on JJ who was saying she couldn’t see.

“Stephen?” Penelope's voice calls out.

Bridgett looks up at her friend, tears still in her eyes as she makes her way over to them.

“Stephen?” She repeats, looking at him through the window.

Bridgett takes Penelope’s hand, holding it in hers as they look at their team member. “He’s gone.” Bridgett sobs.

Both of the women remain quiet as they stay put, not wanting to leave him by himself.

“Oh my god, I didn’t even ask, are you okay?” Penelope asks.

Bridgett turns her head a little too quickly, her vision going blurry. She grips onto Penelope’s hand, feeling a wave of nausea and disorientation come over her.

“What’s wrong?” Penelope asks.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick.” Bridgett says, closing her eyes and breathing in deep.

“Okay, the medics just got here. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Bridgett squats down, breathing in deeply, trying to keep herself from throwing up.  

“Bridge, the baby. Is the baby okay? Do you feel okay?” Penelope asks.

The baby…

Bridgett hadn’t even thought about the baby.

Bridgett looks up and Penelope, worry written on her face. “I don’t know.”

“Okay don’t panic, let me get a medic over here.” Penelope says, running off.

“Where’s Emily? Has anyone seen her?” Rossi calls out, limping around the road.

Bridgett looks around at everyone who had vacated the cars, maybe they had simply overlooked her, but everyone else was accounted for. She tries to stand back up, but she falls into the car, still feeling dizzy.

“Woah, sit back down for a minute. We need to check you out.” The medic says, helping Bridgett back onto the ground.

“Do you know where Emily is? She was in the other car.” Bridgett asks the woman.

“The police are trying to find her. I need you to focus on me and what I’m doing, okay?”

***

A nurse wheels the gurney Bridgett is laying in through the ER, right behind Rossi.

“Can you do me a favor?” Bridgett asks the nurse behind her. “The man over there in the tie, he’s my boyfriend, can you keep him out of the room? I’m pregnant and he doesn’t know, and I don’t want him to know yet.”

“Yes ma’am.” The nurse replies.

Spencer spots Bridgett right away,  rushing over to her. “Are you okay?” He asks, holding her hand.

“I’m fine.”

He begins to follow them into the room, but the nurse stops him at the door.

“I’m sorry, but we have to run some tests on her, we can’t have you in the room just yet.”

“But she’s- I’m her boyfriend. I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“I understand, but we need to run tests on her. We will let you see her when we’re done.”

“Spence, I’m fine. Go check on the rest of the team.” Bridgett says, running her thumb over his knuckles.

“I’ll come back to check on you.” He says, leaning down to kiss the uninjured part of her head. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Bridgett replies as he walks out of the room.

“What we’re going to do is get an ultrasound done and check on the baby, okay? Make sure there’s no damage to the uterus or placenta. We’re more than likely going to keep you until tomorrow evening to make sure baby and you are okay.”

Bridgett nods her head, getting comfortable on the bed.

***

Hours had passed by, all Bridgett wanted to do was go to bed, but with her concussion, she couldn’t. Thankfully all the tests and ultrasound had come back with a good outcome, the baby was okay and everything was normal. She got blips of information from Penelope about what was going with finding Emily, and that Spencer was having a rough time mentally.

“Just checking in on you, sweetheart.” Her nurse walks in, checking the machines behind her.

“I’m just tired.” Bridgett responds.

“I know, we’ll get you up and walking around here in a bit. Your friends have been asking about you, are they okay to come see you?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I just wanted to make sure the baby was okay before anyone came in.”

“Can I ask a personal question, why are you keeping it a secret?”

“Well, I’m an FBI agent, I can’t work in the field if I’m pregnant and I’m not 100% ready to give that up yet, but after tonight I think I am.”

“And you’re keeping it from your boyfriend? He’s a cutie by the way.”

Bridgett laughs, “Thank you. And I just want to find the right time to tell him that’s all. He was… away, for a while, and he came back tonight so I haven’t told him.”

“Well, I don’t know you two, but i can tell you two love each other very much.”

“We do. We’ve been in love for over 10 years.”

“Young love. Reminds me and my late husband.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, honey. It’s been about 6 years now. He was overseas serving our country, and he passed away a hero. We were together since we were 18, we had 26 wonderful years, 6 beautiful kids. He used to look at me just like your boyfriend looks at you. If he’s anything like my Michael was, he’s going to be thrilled when you tell him you’re pregnant.”

“I think so too. He doesn’t have to wait much longer.”

There’s a knock at the open door, JJ standing in the doorway.

“Hey, are you allowed visitors?”

“Yeah, come in.” Bridgett says.

“I’ll come back in 30 to check on you.” The nurse says, walking out of the room.

JJ walks in, sitting at the end of Bridgett’s bed. “How are you?”

“My head is throbbing, my body hurts, and I feel like I’m going to be picking glass out of my hair for the next 6 months. How are you?”

“I’m okay. Just going crazy not knowing what’s going on. I’m worried about Emily. Monica’s here. She uh…” JJ clears her throat. “She said her goodbyes to Stephen.”

Bridgett groans softly, shaking her head. “How bad did she take it?”

“Like you’d expect. Monica’s strong but having to say goodbye to your husband so unexpectedly… I can’t imagine.”

“God me either.”

“Guess you and Spence didn’t have the homecoming you wanted.”

“No, but I’m just glad he’s home. Thank you for being there for him when I couldn’t be. And being there for me too.”

JJ smiles and holds Bridgett’s hand. “Of course. You guys are my family and that’s what family does.”JJ’s phone rings from her hand, she puts it on speaker. “Hey Luke.”

“Hey. How are you guys holding up?”

“Okay. Any word on Emily?” Bridgett asks.

“Yeah, we got her. She’s okay, a little banged up but we’re on our way to the hospital to get her all patched up.”

Both women breathe out a sigh of relief at the update.

“What about Scratch?” Bridgett asks.

“He’s dead. We won’t have to worry about him anymore.” Luke responds.

For the second time that night, relief envelops Bridgett’s body and mind. It was truly one last thing that she had to worry about ever again. 

***

A few days had passed since the night from hell happened. Spencer didn’t want to go back to his apartment, so he had been staying with Bridgett at her place. He had been taking care of her since she was still sore and tending to the cuts on the side of her head. Neither of them had talked much about the events leading up to Spencer’s arrest, but it wasn’t the time. They had just gotten back from Stephen’s funeral, which was emotionally draining to say the least.

Bridgett dresses herself after drying her body off, stepping out of a much needed shower, she grabs a pair of athletic shorts and throws a plain blue big shirt over her body, letting her hair air dry. She walks out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, seeing Spencer fast asleep on the bed. She quietly picks up the clothes off the floor she had thrown about when they got home, throwing them in the hamper in the corner of the room.

“Are you going to come lay down with me?” Spencer mutters, his eyes still closed.

Bridgett smiles, walking back and climbing into bed, snuggling up behind Spencer, wrapping her arm around his waist.

He gladly let her hold him for a change, enjoying the feeling of her touch.

“Can I ask you a question?” Bridgett peeps from behind him.

Spencer turns around, opening his eyes to look straight at hers. Bridgett smiles at him sweetly, touching his cheek lightly with her fingers.

“Before you ask your question, I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you too, baby boy.” She responds, kissing the tip of his nose. “So, my question, and I promise I’m not mad about it, I’m just curious, why did you lie about Mexico?”

The question takes him off guard, even if he wanted to lie, he couldn’t. Especially looking into the eyes he was so in love with.

“I shouldn’t have, I know.”

“By why did you?”

Spencer sighs, making a flat expression.  “I… I just wanted to help my mom. The medicine I was giving her isn't cleared here but all the research I did I wanted to give it a try.” He clears his throat, trying to prevent himself from falling apart.

“You could have told me what you were doing Spence. I’m your girlfriend and that’s what I’m here for. For you to confide in.”

“For you to talk me out of it?”

“I wouldn’t ha-.”

“You’re telling me you would have been okay with me going to Mexico every few weeks to get illegal medicine for my mom? Putting my life at risk, my job, all of that?” Spencer begins to raise his voice at her.

“Don’t start yelling at me.” Bridgett spits, sitting up in bed and scooting away from him.

Spencer takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. This just isn’t the conversation I wanted to have right now.”

“Well when do you want to schedule a time to have this conversation, Spencer? I wasn’t mad, but now, I am.”

“Mad at what? The fact that I lied to you and you didn’t realize?”

Bridgett shoots him a dirty look, getting off her bed quickly. Not bothering to respond to him.

“And now you’re walking away?”

“Yes I’m walking away!” Bridgett yells, whipping her head around. “I’m sorry that I fucking care about you and was scared shitless when I got that call from that drunk, that you were in jail. I’m sorry that I was fucking concerned for your fucking well-being. And I’m fucking sorry that I want to know why you felt the need to fucking lie to me and the rest of the team.” She yelled. “This was the worst 3 months of my life. Worrying about if I was ever going to see you again outside of prison. I was terrified when I found out you stabbed yourself, I thought you were losing your goddamn mind! And it wasn’t like I could go see you, because you refused to see me!”

“Because Luke said you were always a mess after coming to see me. Why would I continue to put you through that?” Spencer yells back.

“Because even though I was a mess after seeing you, what pulled me through was the thought of seeing your face again. You kept me sane! Pulled me out of the slump I was in. You know how heartbroken I was when I got sent away and told I wasn’t authorized to see you? Only to find out you were the one who took me off this list. What if we didn’t get lucky, and you stayed in prison until you went to trial? The thought of not being able to see you all those months, killed me.” Her voice breaks at the end, losing her composure. Wiping her eyes with the collar of her shirt. “Fuck I’m so sick of crying.” She mutters loud enough for Spencer to hear.

Spencer gets off the bed, walking up to her and pulling her against him. He rubbed the back of her head as she cried into his chest. He felt like an ass for yelling at her and getting angry at her for asking a question. “I’m sorry. For everything. Lying, keeping you away, yelling at you. All of it. I’m sorry.” His own voice breaking.

Bridgett looks up at Spencer, grabbing his face. “Look at me, do not lie to me ever again. I don’t care if it’s illegal, if you think I’m going to talk you out of it. Do not do this to me again. Promise me.”  

Spencer nods his head softly. “I promise.” Kissing her forehead, holding his lips against her. He snakes his arm underneath the back of her shirt, his cold limb making goosebumps scatter through Bridgett’s body.

“I love you.” Bridgett says against his chest, clinging onto the shoulder of his shirt. She picks her head up and stretches up to kiss him.

Spencer firmly kisses her back, making her press up against him.

They hadn’t had sex since Spencer had been back. Once Bridgett had gotten out of the hospital the other night, both of them slept like the dead, almost a whole 18 hours. Then Spencer was helping his mom move her belongings to a new care facility. All the emotional and physical obstacles they’ve both been dealing with. It was finally time to give him his proper homecoming.  

[luninosity]

*wanders by* Look what I worked on today...

Warnings for…NOT actual self-harm, but Jason spotting a scar on one of Colby’s hands, a scar he doesn’t know the story of, and briefly considering that possibility. (The actual story is much more of a cooking-related accident!) Plus general warnings for brief mention of Colby’s Awful Exes and family, & related emotional abuse.

#

“How’s this?” Jason waited, fingers resting over Colby’s hands in his. The hotel room wrapped comfort around them; it’d begun as nondescript, but had welcomed Colby’s rainbow cascade of scarves and Jason’s tidy unpacking. It was their home now, for these next two weeks of filming on location. “Helping?”

 “Very much helping, thank you.” Colby obediently didn’t move, holding both hands out. They were sitting on the bed, having changed into pajama pants and t-shirts—Colby’d borrowed one of Jason’s shirts, too large but in a cuddly flattering way—and the day had been long. They’d been filming into the evening, because Jill had wanted the specific light, dwindling away as Colby’s young and brilliant magician character got imprisoned and bound by iron and tortured, refusing to give up and lead the villains to Jason’s hero.

 The chains and cuffs had been fake, of course. Hollywood movie-making magic. A vast leap from real iron.

 But that didn’t mean they were soft or forgiving. They’d had hard edges, angled in spots, heavy, with no real padding. He’d had to struggle against them. He’d had to kneel while the villains shoved his hands to the floor and—cautiously, weight judged for performance—stepped upon them, pretending to shatter bones. The floor, and the impact, hadn’t been soft either.

 The bruises and scrapes and cuts were all too real. Colby winced as Jason spread healing salve across a tender spot. “Ow. Sorry, sorry, I know you’re being careful, I’m not complaining.”

 “Tell me if it’s hurting too much.” He tapped a finger over the back of Colby’s wrist. “And don’t apologize for it. Are you sure you don’t want me to get the medical people to check you out?”

 “They did, right after. I know you know; you were there. It’s fine, it’s not—ow—serious. It’ll heal.”

 “Might need some wrapping, though.” Jason eyed the bruises, the nicks. They shuffled purple and red across Colby’s skin, shame-faced. He didn’t like them existing, though he knew they weren’t anyone’s fault. “Just for tonight, to keep all this on. Not too tight.”

 “Whatever you think works best,” Colby agreed. “You’d know better than I would, as far as stunts and injuries. Ow, oh, drat, that one hurts a bit more.”

 That one was probably the worst, Jason judged: scraped raw, layers exposed, across Colby’s left wrist. The edge of that cuff had been both rough and sharp. And obviously his touch hadn’t been careful enough. “Shit. Sorry. Love you. Is the numbing part working, at all? It’s supposed to be helping.”

 “Oh yes,” Colby said, obligingly. “It’s already better. Thank you for doing this.”

 Jason sighed.

 “It’s true,” Colby protested. “I honestly do feel better. I’d tell you if not.” Hair tumbling to his shoulders in loose dark waves—not a wig, but extensions, left in for fantastical mystical effect—he was elfin and pretty and earnest, wearing Jason’s too-large shirt, eyes huge and blue and searching Jason’s face.

 “I know you would. But I also want to know if it’s not helping enough, okay?”

 “Yes,” Colby said meekly. “I’ll say so if it’s not working, I promise.”

 “Okay, then. Just checking.” He tried to make his touch as gentle as possible. He tried to be as soothing as he could: a protective bulk, not a threatening one. Hands offering care, not more harm. Weight and breadth positioned harmlessly on the bed, no demands.

 He knew Colby trusted him. He felt a small glow of pride that Colby did: enough to admit to being in pain, to wanting care. He loved Colby and would care for Colby with all his heart, all his strength, all his soul; not a question, not ever.

 He still hated seeing Colby in pain. Always had, always would.

 That’d be true for anyone he loved, of course. He’d had some discussions with their therapist about that, about grief and loss and Charlie and Jason’s own desperate need to save people, to be strong. He knew that about himself. But it was worse, it was the worst it could be, when the person in pain was Colby.

 Colby was the other half of his heart. The brightest piece of his life, the piece that’d dived in and reminded him how to swim and that he liked baking, the piece that’d made him laugh and drawn him into whimsical chattering conversations about wizards and dragons and romance and coffee. The piece that liked pink shirts with sequins on the sleeves, and anchovies on pizza, and history and stories and words that could steal an audience’s breath away.

 And Colby had been hurt before, so very badly, for so very long. Inside and out, physical and emotional bruises, day after day. Jason hadn’t been there then, hadn’t known him for the worst of it. But he knew now, at least as much as anyone could, after the fact.

 He’d seen Colby flinch from an unexpected touch, get wide-eyed at a large body hugging too tightly at a convention, and—the scariest of all—go silent and someplace else, someplace not present, at a drift of familiar cologne and a flash-flood of memory in the air. He knew what Colby had told him, which was enough to make Jason carefully store up a lot of emotions and then go down to the gym and beat the hell out of a punching bag for long enough to get his reactions under control.

 He knew about Colby’s family, too. The layers of those bruises—not physical, but emotional, a slow brutal evisceration of Colby’s sense of self and self-worth—went back decades. They were working on it; their therapist said that Jason being here, not leaving, not making Colby earn any crumb of affection, was the exact best thing he could do. Jason hoped so.

 He wished he could do more. He wished he could fight all of Colby’s demons. Like his character in this film, raising a sword. Lifting a shield. Fighting for a cause.

 He knew Colby’s hands pretty well, by now. He knew the way those slim graceful fingers felt in his, on his body—in his body, and oh that was always fun, Colby teasing him open and stroking him and pressing inside him. He knew Colby’s gestures on and off camera, the weight and shape of his palms, the backs of his hands, the old scars from period-piece swordfighting lessons and some small-scale stunt work, comedy pratfalls and in-role clumsiness. He knew about the short jagged line on the outside of Colby’s little finger on the right hand, from hopping a fence while filming a scene for that high-school coming-of-age comedy.

 He knew he didn’t know every smallest detail—he didn’t have a photographic memory—but he had a decent idea of Colby’s hands, he thought.

 Which was why his fingers slowed and came to a stop, as they felt something—as his gaze landed on something—that he didn’t recognize.

 Thin. White. Just above the heel of Colby’s left hand, across his palm. Long-healed—no texture at all, only noticeable if someone was paying extremely close attention, but enough to’ve left a line. Liam, Jason thought first, with a shock of anger like scarlet blood—but no, this was older than a handful of years, older than any injuries at Colby’s ex’s hands. Clearly so.

 Colby hadn’t seemed to notice—he’d been looking at Jason’s other hand, which had scooped up more salve—but he noticed the pause now. His eyes came up to find Jason’s, huge and flower-blue.

 Jason turned Colby’s hand more upward. Touched the line, very very lightly. His fingers shook.

 “Oh,” Colby said, soft with love, wry in the way of someone realizing, “no, it’s not what you’re thinking, and don’t say you weren’t thinking of at least two possibilities. It’s not either of those. I, er…well, I was about eleven years old and I’d been trying to prepare dinner for myself and I had absolutely nonexistent knife skills with regard to chopping carrots. And my father’s chef kept his knives very sharp.”

 “You were making dinner…for yourself?” He touched Colby’s palm again, traced the scar above the heel. It had plainly been a clean cut, straight, but deep enough to leave a mark once healed.

 Colby did that familiar nose-scrunch at him, the one that meant you won’t like this story. “You won’t like this story. But it wasn’t that bad.”

 “Tell me? If you want,” he amended. Not an order, not a demand. The freckle near Colby’s collarbone winked at him, playing peek-a-boo with the loose neck of Jason’s shirt.

 “Oh, of course. It’s hardly a secret.” Colby wiggled salve-smeared fingers at him. “So we were living in Paris then—Dad having been appointed as an ambassador and all, you know…”

 The storied instrument of his voice became, for an instant, more American than anything else, on the word Dad; Howard Kent personified the type of United States politician who embodied privilege, money, and self-interest above everything, including his marriage and his son.

 “…and my parents, being, er, my parents, did tend to do things like go on holiday without remembering that I existed, which meant the staff also generally forgot I existed, or took their cues from my parents, or assumed someone else had made some arrangements somewhere. So I was eleven and a bit, and I’d got used to making sandwiches and things, but I thought perhaps I’d try to cook, because I was trying to learn, you know, so I wouldn’t have to bother anyone.”

 Jason opened his mouth. Shut it.

 Colby lifted both eyebrows, inviting and amused. “Yes, go on, say it.”

 “You know everything I’m gonna say.”

 “I do. It’s all right; I’ve got you now.” Colby leaned against him, on the bed: easy contact, unremarkable, except for how it was remarkable, it was a marvel, given everything Jason knew.

 He wanted to cry for the boy Colby’d been, precocious and shy and so very alone.

 He held Colby’s hand. “I’m here. I’m always here. I’ll chop all your carrots if you need me to.”

 “You would, if I asked, wouldn’t you? Well, in any case, I managed to slice my hand open, as you might expect under the circumstances, and then I very nearly passed out from the sheer shock of it, and then after a few minutes I pulled myself together and found a first-aid kit and tried to patch it up, though it didn’t work terribly well because I was trying to do it one-handed.”

 “Jesus, Colby.” He could’ve demanded, why didn’t you call someone, a member of the security team, the household staff, a doctor, an emergency number, your parents? He didn’t.

 He knew why Colby wouldn’t. Not causing a fuss, not giving anyone a reason to disapprove or to not want him, not believing anyone would come or answer or care…

  His heart cracked open and bled more. Like younger Colby, huddled on a kitchen floor with a first-aid kit. “What happened?”

[hiatus-for-forever]

Can you do a mirio x reader oneshot where mirio is a single dad and he doesnt want to tell his s/o but the s/o find outs in someway and is supportive.

Summary: ^

Quirk: You can make bubbles when you make a circle from your hands. A layer of bubble solution forms and you can blow it into bubbles. You can control its size. If you create many then you have to moisturize your hands cuz they get dry

A/N: sorry sorry sorry for this being late I admit I slacked off for like two days

Warnings/Genre: Fluff, cursing, angst if you squint

WC: 2,396

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Mirio had been going out for almost half a year now and though it hadn’t been very long you felt as though he were the one for you. You trusted him enough to give him the keys to your apartment, but he had never stayed the night or made spontaneous visits. You never visited his apartment too; he never gave you a key and when you suggested to go to his place, he would make excuses. They were usually because ‘the place is a mess’ or ‘there are hero plans that are classified’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t a hero; your quirk had never been strong enough and you didn’t like the intense training, so you took up law in college. You eventually met Mirio while running late to school. In true hero fashion, he saved you from a guy you pulled you to an alleyway. What he didn’t expect is for you to punch the guy in the face as soon as he tried to unbutton you and disarm him by twisting his wrist and making him drop the knife. Mirio was amazed as he had to hold you back from kicking the guy’s head in when you pushed him to the ground.

When he asked how you learned to fight you told him that it was clear the guy’s an amateur. You chuckled saying how weak he was, it was probably one of his first times trying to assault someone. You liked his cheery attitude; he was happily talking to you as you fixed your clothes. Most of it was small talk, him complimenting your skills then asking where you were headed. It was at that time you realized you were late. You quickly sped off with the promise to see him again soon.

The next time you saw him was when someone else was in danger. Before you could jump in, he did and you were left tending to the scarred high-school student. You and he talked after the whole fiasco and jokingly called out the situation that brought you two together. You and he agreed to hang out outside of danger on his free time.

So you did, you went to the park with him and walked around. You talked about yourselves and you got to know him better. After that hangout, you went on others. He knew what you did, your hobbies and stuff you liked, and you knew his too. He was one of the most thoughtful people you’ve met, he constantly helped you through hard times like when you were stressed for finals. You never really noticed but he rarely asked for help. He put most of his attention to you and would brush off the fact he never bothered you about himself. You grew to like him, as a friend and maybe more.

Until one day, your view on him changed completely. You were on one of your hangouts and he got a call. He excused himself and stood to the side as you ordered takeout desserts for him. When he came back his face was contorted to show more of a gloomy expression. He was visibly down and when you got the desserts you brought him to a bench asked him to sit.

He came clean about everything, well, all but one thing. He told you he had a girlfriend he never mentioned and their relationship has been rough for years. It started becoming rocky a year before he met you and admitted to seeing you more that he saw his girlfriend as he was happier and more relaxed around you. You apologized profusely but he told you it wasn’t your fault. He then went on about how his girlfriend got mad at him spending too much time with you and being controlling and that he dumped him in the phone call he just had. What he didn’t tell you was that they had a child on accident and she left the child with him. This would add stress to his life and it was another factor for his breakdown.

During his rant you realized something, he deserved better, and you honestly wanted to be that for him. You came to term with your romantic feelings for him but as much as you wanted him to love you back, you didn’t want to just be some rebound.

After he calmed down he confessed that he loved you and you made him feel more wanted then his girlfriend did. He asked that you accept his feelings but you had to do a double-take. You said that you loved him too but thought that if a relationship would form, it should happen later. You told him you didn’t want to be a rebound and he agreed to wait until he was over his girlfriend to date you.

With that settled, thing went back to normal- well, almost. You noticed he always had something on his mind, always checking up on something every once and a while on his phone. You assumed it was just newfound responsibilities that his ex left with him and didn’t mind it. You did notice he was always redirecting the conversation when it came to going to his place. You never asked before to visit before as you didn’t know if you were close enough but now that he’s single and confessed to you thought it wouldn’t be a problem.

You and Mirio had been going out for almost half a year now and though it hadn’t been very long you felt as though he were the one for you. You trusted him enough to give him the keys to your apartment, but he had never stayed the night or made spontaneous visits. You never visited his apartment too; he never gave you a key and when you suggested to go to his place, he would make excuses. They were usually because ‘the place is a mess’ or ‘there are hero plans that are classified’.

Which brought you to today, it was spring and Mirio was out doing hero things. He promised to spend time with you tonight after a quick shower at his place but you had better plans. You bought a snacks and wanted to wait for him at his place for a spontaneous surprise. Even if you couldn’t get in, it was time to get closer to him and finally see where he lives. You planned to wait in front of his door if it was locked and just surprise him there.

What you didn’t expect was there to be a girl storming out of where you believed was his apartment. She was yelling at her phone about something and you couldn’t help but overhear, “…that child is running circles around me! Seriously, he would not take a rest! That troublesome quirk of his is something I refuse to deal with any longer. I quit! … No I won’t fucking wait for the other one to arrive, I bet she won’t even take a fucking step into that mess” She yelled and hung up. You couldn’t hear as Mirio was on the other line, pleading for her not to leave the child unattended until he could call for another babysitter. As soon as the girl hang up, he rushed home from his office, forcing his sidekick to take over watching the area.

The furious girl stormed passed you and stopped as she turned around and shoved keys to your chest, “Are you the other babysitter? Good fucking luck with that child.” She grumbled while getting into the elevator, leaving you shocked. What were you supposed to do? Leave a child to run around and ruin his parents’ apartment? You checked the number and was surprised when you recognized the number. It was Mirio’s. You remember him bringing his building and number up in two different conversations one time and you were pretty sure this was it.

You walked to the respective door, unlocking it and cautiously walking in. As soon as the door closed a child popped up from the floor. You jumped in surprise as they walked to you and eyed you suspiciously. The blue eyes and blonde hair looked strangely familiar. It then dawned upon you that this boy was a carbon copy of your boyfriend. Was this his child? Was he the reason you were never invited here? Is this why he acted how he did? The thoughts swirled though you mind but was cut off by a teasing voice.

“Are you another one of those mommy replacements my dad keeps forcing here? My mom sucked and left and every other one of you did too. I’ve never seen you before though so maybe you’re new. Guess I’ll just run you out now to make this easier” he huffed and swallowed in a breath before disappearing into the floor. You took a moment to process his words and figured out that his ex was the one who left the child. The boy looked around four or five and he had his quirk already, which he was surprisingly good at using.

He popped up from behind a couch and sat with his arms crossed. “What? Aren’t you gonna chase me?” He questioned. You realized you should contain the child before he could be any more trouble.

“I won’t” you said, crossing your own arms, “Don’t you fall down to the people below’s house when you do that?”

“Nah, I learned how to stop quick enough before I get there” he shrugged, “Now come get me before I break stuff you’ll get blamed for”

“You won’t” you said boldly

“Won’t I?” he threatened

“You won’t, because if you do, all the broken stuff and the stress of others will affect your dad. He pays for this stuff and the caretakers and you running them out just costs more money”

“All he ever does is make money, he doesn’t even spend time with me”

Poor kid, you thought and gave him a sympathetic expression. You sat beside him and pulled him to you as you wrapped an arm around him. “Did you ever tell him that?”

“Huh?”

“D’you ever tell him that you wanted to spend time with him?”

“No but he’s my dad, shouldn’t he already know?” he asked

“True, maybe I should talk to him about that” you said and rubbed his arm, he looked up at you

“You will?” he smiled

“Sure” you said and returned it. You moved away and put your index and thumb together to make a circle. “Wanna play a game?” you asked excitedly.

He nodded quickly with stars in his eyes, “For every five bubbles you pop, you get a cookie”

He agreed and got ready. You blew air through the hole you made and many small bubbles came out. He clapped them one by one, even standing up and reaching for the ones that flew up You stopped blowing and just watched him enjoying himself. He giggled and jumped around, popping bubbles left and right. He fell to the couch and laughed.

“How many’d you get?” you ask and he shrugged, “I wasn’t counting” he replied.

“Well then,” you pulled a box of cookies out of the plastic bag “you get all of them”

“Yay!” he said and grabbed the box. Sitting down, he opened it and pulled a cookie out, then took a big bite. You giggled at his cuteness and wiped some crumbs away with your thumb. He really looked like his dad. To think Mirio wouldn’t tell you about this. Then again, it was very hard to talk about this thing so you understood. You smiled to yourself at the thought of raising this little troublemaker with him. The thought of starting a family with him crossed your mind once or twice but seeing what could actually be warmed your heart. Sure he wasn’t your biological son, or your son for that matter but if he saw you like a mother figure, you could act like one for him. You would spend loads of time with this kid if you could.

“You know, you could be my new replacement mommy if you wanted. You’re way better than the other ones” he gasped, “Maybe you could be my real mommy!”

You choked on your spit. You started coughing as he tried to pat your back. He was mature for his age but his thoughts could seem premature as well

“Do you not want to be?” he looked at you with sad eyes.

Your eyes widened in worry, “No! No, no, no, no, of course I want to be!” you reassured him

“Then do it!” the smile came back to his face

“I would but, you should ask your dad first” you said.

Right on cue the door slammed open to reveal your boyfriend. He looked a mess, still in his hero outfit but he looked drained, like he had been running. His eyes met yours and he saw you sitting with his son. He gasped as you ran over to him. He panicked as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you around a corner to his dining area.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about him but if I had a chance with you I thought it would scare you away and I know it’s kind of a bad thing to do but I thought you would understand if I told you later in the relationship but if you don’t wanna be with me anymore I understand and-“

You cupped his face in your hands and gave him a loving kiss, “It’s okay. I’m not leaving you. I like him and I would happily raise him with you if you want that too” you said softly and smiled. He seemed to have calmed down as he held your hands. You pressed your lips to his once more and he held you close. It was as if you were assuring him that you won’t leave him for anything.

You pulled away and looked into his eyes. He sent you a smile that you swore you’ve seen just a few minutes prior. It came to you that his son had that very same smile and it made you more excited to go back and spend more time with him. Just then you heard his voice.

“Eww what are you two doing!?”

[yet-another-fan-girl9]

Different Worlds (3)

Summary: You’re the youngest Winchester, a girl who needs to show her big brothers that she doesn’t need help. Then one day, on a totally normal vampire hunt that you had all under control, three meddling Avengers come barging in.

Warnings: language, violence, canon divergence, slow burn, me making stuff up

Word Count: 2011

A/N: This is basically how I’m going to update this series: like two a day and then a multiple month hiatus.

~*~

Chapter 3: Trouble On the Horizon

You sat in the booth, squished up to the wall because of a large, dark-haired supersoldier next to you. Across from you, the Falcon was happily eating his burger with Captain America next to him. You quickly sent a message to Sam and Dean telling them that you were fine and that you would meet them back at the bunker.

“Sooo…” you prompted the superheroes before you took a bite of your burger. 

“What happened back there?” the man next to you asked and turned his steel-blue eyes on to you.

You took your time before answering, chewing your food, swallowing, and then taking a sip of your drink. “That was Mr. Robert Walker.”

“Why’d he do those disappearing tricks?” the Falcon asked.

“‘Cause he’s dead.” The men raised their eyebrows simultaneously. “Robert Walker and his wife, Petra, died in like 1970 or something.”

“So he was a ghost?” Captain America clarified.

“Yep.” You popped the ‘p.’ “They, or their ghosts, were responsible for a couple of recent deaths ‘round here.”

“Why?”

“Spirits do things for different reasons.” You shrug. The three men were actually listening intently. “Some want revenge or just keep killing the way they killed people when they were alive.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“‘Course!” you snort. “‘S my job.”

“You’re a ghost hunter?”

“Sure.” You took a long sip of your drink.

“Why did you kill everyone at the bar? Pretty fucking sure they weren’t ghosts,” the Winter Soldier spat at you. His friends raised their eyebrows slightly in surprise at his tone.

“Yeah… that was a colony of vamps.”

“Vampires?” the Falcon asked with a smile and wide eyes.

“Yes, vampires!” You mimic his expression before dropping it quickly and resuming your so-called ‘resting bitch face.’ It was important to look intimidating in this line of work.

“Why did you have to cut off their heads?” Captain America sat back and crossed his arms.

“How else was I supposed to kill ‘em?”

“Did you have to kill them?”

Uhg. This is why. This is why the hunters stayed away from goodie two shoes, ass-kissing heroes. They always wanted to find a way to save people. Even if they were too far gone. Even if they were so blatantly monsters.

“Yes, I had to kill them. It’s. My. Job.”

“So there are ghosts and vampires,” the Falcon said to change the topic, “what else?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Your friendly mood had disappeared. Your back ached from where Mr. Walker threw you against the wall and you were tired. “I’m done here.”

“How’s your arm?” the blue-eyed man next to you asked, stopping your ‘escape attempt’ of climbing over the back of the seat.

“Whadya mean?”

“Last time, with the vampires, you injured your arm.”

Well, you didn’t expect this. Especially from the Winter Soldier. You could tell he wasn’t satisfied with your answers, or lack of them, but at the same time, he was actually asking about your injury.

“‘S all healed.” You pulled down your shirt from the collar to show them. Cas had been useful and fixed you up. No ugly puncture wounds today.

“How?” You looked at the man for more explanation. “How did you heal so fast. It was only a week ago.”

“Mag-my friend is really good at patching people up.” There was a beat of silence. “Can I go home now?”

“We’ll take you home.”

“Thank you, Mister America.”

“Call me Steve.” You narrowed your eyes at the patriotic man. “My name is Steve Rogers. We know all about you, might as well tell you about us.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you mumbled as the Falcon introduced himself as Sam. “My brother’s name is Sam.” They probably already knew that.

“We know.”

“I’m James Barnes,” the Winter Soldier less enthusiastically than his teammates who gave him a sharp look. “But my friends call me Bucky.”

You snorted. “Bucky? What kinda name’s ‘Bucky?’”

“It’s from his middle name, Buchanan,” Steve explained while Bucky glared at you.

“Well then, Bucky. You were going to take me home?”

You had the superheroes drop you off in St. Louis, Missouri. You had a motorcycle in a storage cell in the city. Your brothers didn’t need you bringing some superheroes to the front door. Who knew if they were going to continue to show up?

You loitered around the city for a while after they left, just in case they were still watching you. You’ve never gotten the opportunity to explore St. Louis before due to, you know, being wanted by the FBI. Today, you still kept your head low.

About an hour after the superheroes left you, you made your way to the storage compound with a Starbucks drink in your hand. You smiled when your black, retro motorcycle caught your eye. It had been a while since you last rode. You dusted off your helmet, because it would be a sad ending for a hunter to go out because of a simple road accident, before swinging your leg over the vehicle. Time to go home.

~*~

Bucky sat in the quinjet, this time with the rest of the team. A Hydra base they had just recently raided had shown signs of activity. Somehow, he couldn’t get his mind to focus on the current mission. Didn’t he not want to go on that little case a week ago? Now he couldn’t get (Y/N) off his mind.

No, she wasn’t stuck in his head because he thought she was pretty. Or very capable of taking care of herself. Even though she did look very nice with her shotgun. No. (Y/N) was only occupying his mind because there was a mystery surrounding her and Bucky had to get to the bottom of it.

Obviously by talking to (Y/N) more. That wasn’t a bad thing. Good thing Sam couldn’t read his thoughts.

Bucky peeked at Wanda sitting a few seats away. She had her earphones in, no doubt to block out everyone’s thoughts. She mentioned before that everyone was loud before missions but music helped.

He still had the niggling worry that (Y/N) and her brothers had something to do with Hydra. Or Hydra had something to do with them. Did Hydra know about ghosts and vampires? Bucky knew how many experiments they performed on people. He’s pretty sure that they tried to make vampires once. That didn’t end well with anyone.

The rough landing of the quinjet and Clint’s incessant apologies from the cockpit pulled Bucky out of his thoughts. They left the plane in sets of three: him, Steve, and Sam (of fucking course); Natasha, Clint, and Wanda; Tony, Rhodey, and Vision.

Tony’s team tackled the outside forces as Nat’s team took the north entrance. Bucky’s team made it into the south entrance with ease. They faced very little opposition as they made their way down the halls of the facility. Bucky hoped and assumed that it was because Hydra didn’t have the manpower.

“Guys, look at this,” Sam called down the hallway from a random room.

Steve and Bucky followed Sam into the room. It was dimly lit and empty save for a couple of cans of red paint in the corner and a large book on a stand in the middle of the floor. Sam had opened the book and was flipping through the yellowed pages.

“What’s this?” Bucky walked up to him and the book while Steve kept an eye out on the hallway.

“I dunno. Can’t read it.” When Sam flipped through, Bucky noticed strange symbols decorating the pages. “Woah,” Sam exclaimed when he landed on a certain page. “Didn’t know Hydra did this kinda stuff.”

The page displayed a large red pentagram along with instructions in what Bucky assumed was Latin. Even though he couldn’t read the words, the star spoke enough. A chill went down his spine and his mind instantly went to (Y/N). Was this part of her world?

“Let’s take it,” Bucky suggested. “Don’t want to leave it with them.”

“What’s all this?” Nat interrupted.

“What are you doing here?” Sam spun around quickly.

“The building’s clear. I was doing our job while you were having a book club.”

“Apparently Hydra’s into some weird shit.” Bucky motioned to the pentagram on display.

“Fuck,” Natasha mumbled as her eyes searched the pages. “Looks like Hydra was planning some Satanic ritual.” Her words echoed through the comms.

“You can read Latin?” Sam asked.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Bucky grumbled, grabbed the large book, and marched out of the room.

~*~

“We have a problem,” Cas announced, suddenly appearing and startling everyone in the previously quiet room.

“Hello to you too, Cas,” Dean smirked.

“Hi, Cas!” Jack beamed at one of his many father figures.

“What is it?” Sam rationally asked. You closed the book you weren’t really reading and took your feet off the table to sit up and look more attentive.

“Lucifer is trying to take heaven.”

“Again?” You fiddled with your new ring.

You had found it on the ground in one of the storage rooms in the bunker. Jack didn’t find anything malevolent on it, but he said that it could store energy and magic. At your request, he had filled it with healing magic. You really didn’t want to die. Again.

“Yes, again,” Cas answered. You paused for a second before remembering your question before losing your train of thought. 

“This isn’t really a problem anymore,” Dean pointed out. “Just a monthly chore.”

“Weekly, actually,” Cas corrected. “He would try to break out every Saturday, but he had ceased his attempts for the last five weeks.”

Lucifer was being held in Heaven, or you supposed he used to be held there considering he was now trying to gain control. The angels decided to lock him in Heaven because it was easier than trying to shove him back into the cage. It also kept him away from his demonic minions.

“He broke out and now is gathering forces to take Heaven?” Dean guessed.

“Sounds like my father,” said Jack under his breath and you gave him a small, sympathetic rub on the back.

“Yes,” continued Cas. “He’s already recruited some witches to find a book of spells. He’s looking for the Magicae Libro.”

“The… Magic Book?” you laughed. “Creative.”

“They didn’t need to be creative when it was the only one.”

“Right, sorry. So what is the Magicae Libro, other than a magic book?”

“It was the first spellbook. Written by some of the first witches, directly advised by Lucifer. Because of the power basically woven into the pages, the spells and rituals cast using the book are more powerful.”

“That’s a thing?” Sam ran his hand through his hair.

“We gotta get to it before the witches bring it to Lucifer, then,” Dean spoke over his brother.

“Any idea where we start?” Jack asked plainly.

“Maybe ask our own witch to get it for us,” you suggested. “Rowena’s always in it for the power and she would want the Magicae Libro for herself.”

“Rowena is unpredictable,” Cas argued.

“She’s gotten better, though.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Dean butted in. “She’d kill a bunch of people just out of spite.”

“We can let her take the book once Lucifer is under control once again.”

“We promised her powerful books before.” Cas wasn’t giving it to her.

“And the deals worked. We’re all still alive. The same deal can work again.”

“I am not giving the Magicae Libro to Rowena!”

“Then you and Jack go looking for it.”

“Jack is going nowhere,” Cas growled. “His father will be looking for him. We don’t want Lucifer to find the book and Jack in the same place.”

“Then we ask Rowena for help.”

“No.”

“I can do it,” Jack agreed.

“No!” All three men yelled at the boy.

“Jack or Rowena.” You held out your hands and moved them up and down like a scale. “Jack or Rowena. Pick one.”

“Fine.” Cas glared at the table. “Call Rowena.”

~*~

~*~

~*~

~*~

~*~

Tag List (strike though means tag didn’t work):

@grav3dollie-666

[sylvanfreckles]

Hallucinations (FebuWhump 11)

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: When Cas chose to be human to stay with Dean they all knew he'd have a hard road ahead adjusting to his new life. Sam is only now discovering just how hard that road is.

(Look, I had a rough day, I needed some self-indulgent angsty destiel fluff. You know how it is.)

(Read on AO3)

* * *

The first time Sam realized something was wrong, he'd followed the sound of frying bacon into the bunker's kitchen, not at all surprised to find his brother at the stove. Dean glanced back over his shoulder. “Hey, Sammy. What time you guys get in?”

“After two,” Sam groaned. There was a full carafe of coffee next to a stack of clean mugs, and he eagerly poured a mug for himself and contemplated just sticking his face in. “We miss anything?”

“Eh, same old-same old,” Dean shrugged. He twisted to slide the bacon out of the pan onto a plate on the kitchen island behind and Sam nearly spat out a mouthful of coffee in shock.

“Dude, what the hell happened?” Sam blurted. At Dean's questioning glance he pointed to the side of his face—the same spot where Dean had a dark bruise spreading across his cheekbone.

“Oh,” shaking his head dismissively, Dean turned back around to peek at something in the oven. “Cas.”

This time Sam tried to swallow the coffee, but it was a little too hot and a little too much and he ended up coughing and pounding at his sternum to try to clear his throat. “Cas?”

There was just no way. Castiel, former angel-of-the-lord, who'd given up nearly limitless power to live a quiet, human life with Dean. Cas, who Sam had caught smuggling spiders out of the bunker instead of killing them. The one who'd come home without his coat more often than not because he always saw someone who needed it more. There was no way he was hurting Dean...was there?

“Don't go all Lifetime movie on me, Sammy,” Dean complained. “Dude had a nightmare and woke up swinging. I didn't duck in time, that's all.”

“Dean...”

“Don't make it a big deal,” the older Winchester snapped, pointing a spatula at his brother. “He's been through enough shit in his life, he doesn't need you piling more guilt on him.”

Sam held his free hand up and backed away to lean against the counter. “Does it...does that happen a lot?”

“Comes and goes,” Dean shrugged. “Not like he can help it.” He tugged a tray of cinnamon rolls out of the oven and dropped them on the stovetop. “Hey, let Cas and Eileen know breakfast's ready, all right?”

“We need to talk about this, Dean.”

“We always need to talk about everything,” he retorted. “It's fine, Sam. I'm fine, Cas's fine, you're fine. I'd say Eileen's fine but you'd get the wrong idea and beat my ass.”

Sam snorted. “Real mature, dude.”

“Yeah, but you love me for it,” Dean grinned and winked. “Now shoo, you know how Eileen gets when the bacon gets cold.”

* * *

The second time, Sam had found an opportunity to have a private talk with Cas about everything. Dean and Eileen were holed up in the training room sparring—she needed to test her skills against a stronger opponent, and he always welcomed the chance to try to match her speed. Cas was sitting sideways on one of the couches on the balcony overlooking the war room, an Audubon guide to birds open in his lap.

“Hey, man, can we talk for a second?”

Cas flinched and tried to cover it up with a smile, pulling his legs in so Sam had room to sit down. “Of course. I always enjoy...talking to you.”

Sam tried to smile when he sat down, though Cas's first reaction had him concerned. “I just wanted to know how you're handling things. Being human, being here with Dean, stuff like that.”

The dark-haired man's eyes lowered, focusing on the way his finger traced the edges of the pages of the book he was holding. “I'm satisfied with my choice, Sam. I will never regret choosing your brother.”

“That's not what I mean,” Sam shook his head and turned in his seat so he was facing Cas. “I mean life, emotions...frustration? Anger? You haven't always had a great track record with that kind of stuff.”

Cas wouldn't meet his eyes. He closed his birdwatching guide and hugged it close to his chest, drawing up his knees so he was curled on the end of the couch as far away from Sam as he could get. God, he looked like he was ready to make a run for it. “This is about Dean?”

Sam let out a sigh. “It's about both of you. Look, you've only been human for a few months, and Dean's never had a long-term partner before. I just want to make sure things are...okay?”

“It was a mistake,” Cas replied. He finally looked up at Sam, his expression twisted with grief. “I didn't know...I didn't know he was there, and I thought I was...”

Dammit, this wasn't how Sam wanted this talk to go. He'd just meant to have a lighthearted conversation, make sure Cas was coping with humanity (and Dean), maybe pass on some tips for battling the nightmares. Instead he was about to make his pseudo-brother-in-law cry (really, the handfasting ceremony had been lovely, but with both spouses legally dead there was no way Sam or Dean were actually married).

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” Sam leaned forward and rested one hand on the other man's knee. “I know it was an accident. I just wanted to know if there was any way I could help.”

Cas's shoulders relaxed, but he shook his head. “I'm fine, Sam.”

* * *

The third time, they'd been trying to have a movie night. Dean had apparently been teaching himself ASL while Sam and Eileen were gone, though he'd only learned obscene phrases and jokes at Sam's expense. They were watching some mindless action flick, the kind where the cars had stunt doubles, the men had muscles bursting out of their sleeves, and the women wore scandalously impractical clothing for all the fist-fighting they were doing on the backs of eighteen-wheelers.

The hero of the story had taken a two-by-four to the jaw, and miraculously walked away with nothing worse than a couple of cracked molars. But it seemed the villains had infiltrated the friendly neighborhood dentist, and as soon as the hero showed up to have his teeth repaired they had him tied down to the chair in the exam room.

Dean lunged for the remote and snapped the television off. “Shit. Hey, Sunshine, you okay?”

Cas was staring ahead blankly. His hands, resting on his knees, were coiled into fists, his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle was twitching. Dean frantically waved Sam and Eileen away and knelt on the floor in front of Cas, looking up at him but not touching.

“You're here with me,” Dean said calmly. “Come on, man. Come back to me. I'm right here in front of you.”

Sam could see that Cas was shaking. He moved to grab the blanket from the back of the couch but Dean shook his head. “Don't touch him. He doesn't know we're here right now.”

The younger Winchester hesitated. “Do you want some water?”

“Shh!” Dean hissed. “He knows me. He can follow me back.”

Wrapping his arms around his stomach, Sam settled on the arm of one of the big recliners. Eileen leaned against him and he moved one arm to wrap around her shoulders, resting his chin on top of her head.

“I'm still here, Sunshine. You know me. You found my soul in the pits of Hell, you can find your way back out of this.”

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Then something in Cas's eyes changed, like he was actually focusing on the world in front of him. Dean broke into a broad smile. “There's my Sunshine.”

Cas stared at him, then down to where his hands were curled into fists. “I don't...”

“Hey,” Dean held his hands up, hovering just a few inches over Cas's knees. “Okay to touch?”

The former angel stared at Dean's hands blankly for a moment, then threw himself off the couch into Dean's arms, hands clutching at the back of Dean's shirt hard enough that Sam could see the fabric crease from where he was sitting.

“Whoa, that's a yes,” Dean teased. “I'm still here, Sunshine. Right here.”

* * *

Sam finally cornered Dean after, when Cas had retreated to deal with the aftermath of his...episode...in private. “You call that fine?”

Dean sighed, his face suddenly lined with exhaustion. “Can you blame him? Dude's been through more shit than we'll ever see in our lifetimes, he's gonna have some blips here and there.”

“'Blips'?” Sam raked a hand through his hair. “Dean, he was catatonic.”

“Ah,” Dean held a finger up. “We call it Cas-atonic.”

“This isn't funny, Dean!”

“You think I don't know that?” Dean flung his arm out, gesturing vaguely toward the dormitories. “You think I don't wonder if he might not make it out some time? Jesus, Sammy, I like the nights he wakes up swinging. Sure as hell beats the nights he screams me awake and I can't break him out of the hell inside his head.”

Sam flinched and looked down. “Is it really that bad?” he asked quietly.

Dean let out a sigh and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We're working on it. I'm starting to catch on to triggers, sometimes we can head them off. He Skypes with Mia every couple weeks, that's helping.”

“Mia?” Sam raised his eyebrows. “Isn't she the...”

“Shapeshifter therapist, yeah. Figured she might be the only one who'd understand the angel stuff was the normal bit.”

Sam nodded and folded his arms, leaning back against the wall. “And 'Sunshine'?”

Dean's cheeks reddened and he turned away to fiddle with something on the library table. “We needed a name. Something no one else called him, something from now. He said I called him that once and he liked it...but it's not something the rest of the angels knew about. So if he hears me call him Sunshine he knows he's here now, not back in...not back then.”

He wanted to ask when 'then' was, but his brother's body language was closing down. So Sam rubbed his hands together and pushed himself up instead. “Well, hey, what kind of movies are safest for him? We can have a do-over for movie night.”

His brother groaned. “How do you feel about rom-coms without an alpha bitch?”

* * *

The fourth time took Sam completely by surprise. They'd made a trip out to a secondhand bookstore—Dean and Eileen had squabbled the entire way over whether this was a double date or not, with Cas innocently suggesting that a date required food and Dean had promised he could pick the restaurant, and Sam stoutly refusing to take any part in the discussion—and it had started out as a nice trip. The bookstore was massive, so while Sam was looking for some older reference books (they were still replacing some of the volumes that had been damaged when the Stines infiltrated the bunker), Eileen looked for more practical map books and travel guides.

Cas had dragged Dean off to look at the nature section. He was fascinated with the ways humans categorized their world, and he and Dean had rearranged the library so Cas had an entire shelf for his motley collection of well-thumbed nature books.

“Oh, here, Sammy, carry mine,” Dean called as they were leaving, thrusting his bag at Sam.

“Carry your own,” Sam retorted, shoving them back. His bags were heavy enough, between what he and Eileen had picked out.

“They're not even mine, they're Cas's,” Dean shot back. “Don't you love your brother-in-law?”

“Don't you love your husband?” Sam shoved the bag back at Dean. Eileen walked between them at the moment and snatched both Dean's bag and Sam's bags.

She made eye contact with Cas and rolled her eyes. “Boys,” she announced haughtily, stepping into the street to cross toward the parking lot where Dean had left the Impala.

“Whoa, hey,” Sam caught her shoulder and tugged her back just as a sports car screamed around the corner, tires squealing. The driver hit a patch of gravel and spun out for a minute, scattering pieces of rock before their tires had traction again and the swerved off down the narrow road.

Eileen signed something rude in the direction of the speeding car. Sam mentally agreed, but checked over his shoulder to make sure Dean hadn't seen that particular phrase.

Dean was on the ground, Cas curled on top of him. The dark-haired man was completely rigid, arms and legs wrapped around Dean's body to hold him still, Dean's head tucked under his chin.

“Dean?”

“I'm okay,” Dean's muffled voice called. “Stay back...keep everyone back.”

Sam glanced around. The patio in front of the bookstore was basically deserted, and there were only one or two customers milling around inside the store.

“I'm okay, Sunshine.” Sam couldn't see Dean's face from here, though from the muffled tone he imagined it was pressed into Cas's chest. “I'm safe and you're safe. We're all here with you, Sunshine.”

Cas shuddered. “I can't...”

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” Dean managed to snake an arm out and wrap his hand around Cas's upper arm. “I'm right here. I love you, Sunshine. Remember?”

Cas's face crumpled and he went limp, and Dean slowly sat up and shifted them both so that Cas was sitting with his forehead resting on Dean's shoulder. “We're going home now,” Dean told him, rubbing a hand up and down Cas's back. “Eileen said she's gonna cook dinner tonight,” he added, winking up at Eileen.

She sank to a crouch and waited for Cas to look up at her. “Vegetarian chili.”

Dean gave a loud, theatrical groan that actually brought a faint smile to Cas's face. “Vegetarian?” he whined.

“You love it,” she teased back with her own wink. “You can make extra bacon in the morning.”

“Deal,” Dean pushed himself to his feet and held a hand down to help Cas up. “Let's go home, Sunshine.”

* * *

I hesitated about the I love you part, but I figured Dean knew that was one of the "now" phrases that would help Cas remember where and when he is.

It's past my bedtime. I hope you enjoyed my self-indulgent fluff and maybe some day I'll write a story where Cas is the partner taking care of Dean...although that's not my style :D

[courtorderedcake]

Hallow : ch xx - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns​

Ch xx / ?? - In which truths are finally revealed. 

Twisting the strange heaviness that was Arthur's engagement ring around her finger, Emma walked slowly down the corridors with a line of attendants behind her. The walk was stop and go, breathing as troubled as her mind as she tried to contemplate Killian's transgressions. 

How long had he been plotting if he managed to do this to her? The illness was something worthy of her hatred, but she could not bring herself to feel any anger when she remembered the way he had looked at her. His eyes had been so clear, the plea in them bright, sun catching ocean waves through fog. He had begged her to listen, and why would he stay if he had the dagger shard in hand? Surely he wouldn't take her life after everything they had gone through together. His revenge on her parents and her had fallen away… hadn't it? 

The tea she had earlier on Arthur's insistence twisted in her stomach painfully, her breath catching. Her lungs constricted, burning with effort, heart deafening in her ears until she was spinning, twirling round. 

"Mmm. Well," Killian smirked, pulling her close, bodies pressed together far more intimately than was required of a proper waltz. "Not that I don't love to hear the sad stories of the poor princess -" 

"Oh, come on -" Emma hissed, rolling her eyes and trying to pull away. 

" - but I would never deny you a chance to actually be kept on your toes." He dipped her low, humming something she could not discern, something older and much more jaunty. Spinning her with expertise across the small space, Emma fell into his lead if you could call it that. He didn't follow one style of step, and any stiffness was met with a complicated step she had to focus on, until she was laughing at the ridiculous over exaggerated styles he forced her to partner with. 

Both Killian and her were out of breath when he threw her into a wild spin, bringing her in close to intertwine her fingers with his. Emma breathlessly giggled, closing her eyes to clear the dizziness away, her eyes shooting open in surprise when she leaned forward and their foreheads met.  

Emma woke, sitting up and finding herself alone in a part of the castle she didn't recognize, standing with shaky confusion. 

"Hello?" she called out, almost slipping on a strange blue sparkling residue that surrounded the area where she had woken. "What in the -" 

"Princess, I'm sorry, I had no choice," Ali rounded a corner checking behind himself as her brows furrowed. "You need to hide; they're coming, Hades convinced them not to wait, and I can't control it very well - the call, the pull is too strong."

Ali doubled over, hissing lowly, and Emma stepped toward him with hesitation. "Ali? What is wrong? Are you alright?" 

"Emma, Arthur's not who you think he is." Ali pulled her aside, checking the space for any signs of life. He lowered his voice further. "Ask him about his heartache, and strife. He - Emma, no matter what he tries to charm you with, do not listen."

"But he's -" 

"I can't right now. They're coming, I have to -" He groaned, glowing a faint blue. 

"Ali, what is going on?" Emma reached for him, his sharp turn causing her to fall back. His eyes glowed a bright burning blue. "What are you!?" 

"I don't have time for this!" Ali yelled before disappearing in a puff of blue smoke.

Emma stood up carefully, confused as she looked around. Entering the garden, hands grabbed her from behind, sweeping her off her feet. 

"Put me down!" 

"Princess, what happened? Are you alright?" Arthur said, as she flailed in his grasp. "It's okay. I'm sorry for startling you, I -" 

"I don't know what is happening, I don't know what is going on!" Emma pulled free, standing shakily. "He turned blue, and he said, he said -" 

Holding her arm to steady her, Arthur tried soothing her, cooing softly. "Emma, you're not making sense, what are you talking about? Who said -" 

"You - He said you have heartache and strife?" Arthur stiffened, gripping her arm tightly. She winced, whimpering slightly until it turned into a cough. He let her go and she fell back, leaning against the wall. "What does that mean, Arthur? I know you were married, I know your wife is gone, but…" 

"It's nothing, darling. Really." He smiled, but even if she was without the gift of the Sphinx to know truths, Emma could feel the lie in his voice. "Come and lay down in your quarters. I've made you some more tea, and I'll help you get comfortable -" 

"I need to get to Jasmine; there's something wrong here. You're - You're not telling me the truth." Arthur's eyes went cold, before he softly smiled and approached. 

"My sweet flower, I have been avoiding the topic for fear of bruising your delicate petals. It's not a pleasant story." He swallowed hard, with a sigh. "Let me walk you back through the corridor. I'll tell you as we go, sound good?" 

"I don't think I -" Emma tried, but he was gripping her elbow tightly, pulling her through the halls. 

"I was very much in love with the woman I married. My Guinevere." He sighed, Emma trying to keep herself from falling at the pace he set. His grip was tight as he dragged her, weak noises of protest going unheard. "She didn't believe in me, or my dreams of what our kingdom could be. She wanted me to be proud of what we had, to live in the past relying on the strength of our people, not the strength of our steel. I tried to change her mind, but I know now that it was fruitless."

Emma pulled away, falling to the floor as she gasped for air. She stared hard at him, trying to will away the prickling fear that gripped her as his words rang with half truths. 

"Come on now, up you get blossom," he coaxed lightly, his sharp yank of her wrist fiercely violent in comparison. She yelped and his eyes darkened, narrowing dangerously. "This would have been much easier if you had drank more of the poppy flower I brewed, I didn't want to be this rough you know -" 

"Stop! Please -" 

"You women are so frustrating! You don't know what is good for you, come along." Emma attempted to scoot away again, trying to understand what he was saying. The tea in her stomach churned, the minimal amount still filling her with nausea at his strange comment. Poppy flower rang a bell in her mind, the red or orange blooms pulled apart by Regina in one of her lessons. What had they been making? "You're just like Guinevere, pushing me to correct your mistakes." 

His fingers tightened painfully around her wrist, the leer he gave as he looked down at her not befitting the Arthur she had been courting. The memory hit her like a punch to the gut. Poppies were used in sleeping potions, or to make someone drowsy and complicit. Arthur had drugged her. 

"You're mad! You've forgotten yourself Arthur, it's no wonder she left you if this is how you corrected her! How dare you drug me!" Emma snapped, his mouth twisting and eyes narrowing at her words. He chuckled darkly. 

"She didn't just leave me, she betrayed me, Emma. I don't take kindly to betrayal, and it was not my fault. They should have known. You should know now as well, so you," He pulled her up roughly to her feet, dragging her around a corner, "Know to listen ." 

He hissed the last words, and Emma felt sweat bead on her brow, the patterned floor below their feet unfamiliar. They were nowhere near her apartments in the palace, the corridor empty of any servants. 

"What -" The words caught in her throat, the question making Arthur grin as he caressed the ring on her finger with his thumb. 

"What happened to her? I killed her lover - one of my best knights too, which was a shame - then I killed our daughter, which was more accident than intentional. But Guinevere, I made her watch until she had a final choice to make."

Emma wrenched away, backing up as he advanced on her. 

"She could die by starvation, or fling herself from her room in the tower I locked her in." He laughed, as if he wasn't speaking madness, and Emma tried to keep upright. "By the third day she made her decision, and made the leap. It wasn't as clean as I'd hoped, but Guin always had a penchant for mess. I would hope you are cleaner, but our time together looks brief."

He seemed to frown slightly at this, but his eyes showed nothing but amusement. Emma threw the ring at him, unable to utter any words between her wheezing breaths. 

"Shhh, it's okay my sweet bud. Soon enough you'll be dead, we'll blame the Dark One for it, I'll gain your kingdom in your passing along with Agrabah, and the Dark One will be our one man army as we bind him to Excalibur." Arthur grabbed her face, pressing a kiss to her temple as she tried to push him away. Killian, they were going to hurt Killian and her people, what had she done ? He chuckled lowly at her panic, her squirms to get away doing nothing. "You truly were such a prize. It's just too bad that no one could ever love you more than your station. So much power in that title, truly far too much for a desperate naive girl like you. Now, come along. We are needed elsewhere."

He tugged hard as Emma fought, touch going from rough to brutally so in an instant. She cried in desperation, his fingers threading through her hair to yank her neck back, hope becoming a distant memory as she weakened. 

 *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

 The cell holding Killian was damp, the floor made of packed clay and damp sand that gave way to thick limestone blocks where manacle chains hung. Compared to the cell at the Royal Palace that had held him for what might as well have been eons, this was as flimsy as wet paper. The Darkness seemed to remind him of this on loop, but he couldn't hear it over the roar in his ears, the way Emma had looked at him from her bed like a stranger. 

She looked - Gods , she had looked - 

Arthur wanting to marry her so she could simply die had been so repulsively absurd until he had seen her. In the few days that had turned into a week's time, Emma had lost her coloring, her frame was skeletal, eyes sunken and chest almost concave. Wires and wards covered her, and he should have known, he should have been there by her side instead of ducking down hallways to prevent her from following. He had tried to lose her, and now he was to be successful, his heart breaking. 

He couldn't break out of his cell without proving his criminality, but if he stayed, she might - 

A blinding flash of blue startled and dazed him, his blinking unable to clear it from his vision at first. A man glowed before him, skin cracked like a bird shell, a bright azure light pouring from underneath. He wore a mask of twisted gray cloth and a thief's coarse linen tunic with breeches, but the eyes were unmistakable. Aladdin. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner, I had thought you would -" He approached Killian, and Killian was out of the manacles within seconds, his fist hitting hard against Aladdin's stomach. 

"You piece of shit," Killian hissed lowly, Aladdin letting out a wheeze. "You triple timing, absolute piece of -" 

"They're… Bandits!" Aladdin gasped out, the blue breaking through his skin more. Killian stepped back, circling him slowly, watching his movements. Arcane energy prickled in the air, small pebbles rising from the floor. "They're coming to… Kill… Arthur engaged, so Hades pushed the attack to today… They want… Kill Jasmine and take -" 

"Bloody buggering hell - why would you ally with them? Was everything with Jasmine and Emma a ruse?" Killian asked, surprised how the accusation was filled with concern. "I swear to you, I won't let Emma die because you -" 

"You have to hurry… I warned her, I tried… I'm being pulled, compelled, I can't - Emma's with Arthur. I can't hold on - gah -" He groaned, the glow becoming brighter, more skin sizzling away as he burned from within. "Save Emma from Arthur."

Aladdin looked up, their eyes meeting, before disappearing in a puff of blue smoke. As soon as he was gone, Killian was in movement, nothing but Emma's safety on his mind. 

 *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

 The fist that came from seemingly nowhere broke Arthur's hold on her, sending her sprawling to the ground with a ringing in her ears. She could hear the sound of blows hitting flesh, but could barely lift herself to see her would be savior, if that was what they were. Then they spoke, and her heart beat in a strange uneven quick step. 

"Fuck," Killian ground out, his voice rough as Arthur grunted between blows, "You, 'Mate'." 

Pulling herself to her knees, Emma attempted to crawl from where the two fought. Managing to turn into a courtyard, her dress caught on a raised stepping stone, her body collapsing. Fatigue and sheer emotional exhaustion pushed her into tears, fingers digging into the dirt to pull herself forward even slightly. 

Strong hands helped her up, Killian looking at her with concern she hadn't seen from him in weeks. 

"Are you - he didn't hurt you did he?" he asked, and she laughed herself into a coughing fit at the ridiculous question. He seemed mollified at this, swallowing hard. "I left him in a heap. He'll never hurt you again, alright love? At least you didn't marry that monster." 

Emma snorted, her raw throat burning through coughs. Finally she felt it unclench, anger flowing through her to yell at his stupid face, with his stupid consternation that was far too little, too late. 

“Why do you care? Of all the times you have hurt me, belittled me, or made it clear that you despise me, why now do you care? Is he not better than Nil or leaving my family with no contingency?" Pushing him away with what little force she could, he looked surprised at her anger. Emma felt her chest constrict, but continued. "You have wasted no time making it clear that you don't want to know my plans should I die. Why now do you have the gall to say that you want a say?" Wobbling in the new space between them, she raised her chin in defiance. Killian tried to close the gap again, and she took a step back. 

 "I'm sorry Emma. You're right, I shouldn't - "

"Damn right you shouldn't. Damn right that you even being here still makes me feel…" She hesitated, arms wrapping around her frame. "You told me that you were leaving on Selune, and again once on your ship. What possible reason do you have to stay if but to hurt me at every turn, Killian? Why come back? You should have just gone when you were freed, and left me alone. You shouldn't be here. You caused all of this!" 

He carded a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "It's not - That's not -" 

"Why can't you let me go? What am I to you? Was I wrong to believe that you had any hope of redemption?" Emma tried to ignore the rasp of her voice as it broke, tears streaking hot trails down her cheeks. "Do you have any idea how much pain you have caused me?" 

"You can't marry him, Emma. You can't." He reached for her, but she flinched away, his expression turning from worry to a pained hurt she wanted to slap off his face. "You couldn't do that to yourself. You know that he would have never been a good king."

"He was better than Nil!" Emma spat. "You have no right to have any say in this, Killian. I will do what I see fit, for my kingdom and my family -" 

"Please, just listen -" This time when he reached out for her, she looked at him in disgust, shoving his hands away. He was a liar, playing her for a fool, his pleading and his unsettling worried stare be damned. Even if it was true, it was him - he had no right to lecture her on who was 'good'. 

"I have heard enough. You have nothing of substance to say to me, and no answers to my questions!" Emma shouted. 

"He's not the one from your dreams, he's working along with Aladdin, the fake prince Ali. I'm -" 

Cutting him off, she spun on her heel, jabbing a finger at him in rage. "Why should I believe anything you have to say? Why should I trust you when all you have done is hurt me?" 

"I never meant for this, I never wanted to harm you. Please, please love, you have to listen. I beg you, please -" A loud noise that sounded like stone against metal shook the fountain that burbled happily in the corner, smoke drifting out from somewhere deeper in the palace. 

"I refuse, I refuse to listen to any more of your lies. You are the last person I would ever trust. You disgust me. How can you even stand here knowing that you haven't changed at all, and that you are the same monster?" Killian's eyes widened at her sudden proximity, his posture going rigid. His hands that had been reaching for her pulled to his sides, his breath coming out in a sharp exhale. He seemed almost nervous, the air around them suddenly stifling. Emma took another step putting them toe to toe. Shoving him proved fruitless when he barely moved from the weak push, but was satisfying as she continued yelling. "How dare you say anything to me about Arthur, how dare you try and trick me again! We were never friends, you never gave one moment or kindness without thought of yourself, we were never -" 

His hands shook as he touched her shoulders, one immediately pushing back his hair in frustration as he leveled his gaze with hers. His stare was hard, intensely fixed as he seemed to fight himself. Emma raised her chin and he moved a hand to hold her face, her shiver as he cupped her cheek involuntary. His touch felt right, her heart skipping in a strange hiccup that felt so familiar and yet still foreign. "You bloody stubborn, obstinate, maddening woman. I'm not sorry for this. I won't be." 

She gasped into his kiss, forgetting her anger in the way he moved his mouth against her own. It was practiced between both of them which stunned her and made her heat past feverish in seconds, anger dissolving completely as his tongue pressed further. Emma knew this touch, knew the longing that she could feel in the way they tasted each other, barely able to pull away when all common sense said to push him back. There was no doubt: 

Killian was who she had been dreaming of. 

"It's you, it's always been you -" A resounding crash came from the other side of the courtyard, smoke growing thicker. 

"Go hide. Don't answer to anyone, and stay silent. I… I will tell you everything when you are safe."

"But -" Emma protested, still slightly dazed. 

Killian grazed his lips on her knuckles, then pressed a kiss there before pulling away reluctantly. "Go."

 *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma stumbled away deeper into the courtyard, and he stood prepared to fight even without a weapon. The Darkness had succeeded in destroying his feelings for her, but destruction was not enough. Like a flower with unseen and deep roots, his feelings bloomed again simply by being around her. The Darkness howled, and he let himself howl with it, filled with anticipation of the brawl to come. The first attacker turned the corner to the hallway, then barreled headlong towards Killian with sword raised. More turned the corner as he dodged the blade, his attempts to disarm the man for his weapons futile as the sword arced in the air to land in the courtyard while the bandit battalion continued to grow around him. He managed to steal a pole staff, disabling several of them until it was hacked to bits by an axe. 

He scrambled for another weapon until he froze, looking at a familiar face. 

Brennan Jones stood looking at him with contempt, his club raised again as he glared. Killian stared back as his father's sneer changed to the wicked grin he had reserved for beating both he and Liam; on days when he'd fallen into the bottle. He was skinnier, unkempt and underfed, wrong in his phantom form. It didn't matter when he brought down the club again, and Killian heard his own skull shatter. A bag was placed over his head as he was dragged, his father grunting with strain. 

Something shattered nearby and Killian was hit again and again, before he was pushed into a roll with a sharp kick. 

"We need him alive, bosses said so. Should still be weak from all that ink crap they made." 

"You can't kill him, don't worry. He was supposed to be in the dungeon, wasn't he?"

 "Where's the other piece? We need -" 

"It doesn't matter, they both attract the other. It's easy, and even if we don't get it, Hades doesn't care and Arthur has that sword thing." 

There was a deafening crash, his captors and father yelling as Killian was pulled away. His hood was removed, light and dust hurting his unbroken eye as he looked up into Emma's face. She held a sword that she let drag in the mess of carnage she had wrought. The phantom of his father approached as she looked up, heaving with effort to take a stance. Killian watched her block the aggressive attacks in awe as she stood in his defense, wavering with every blow. 

His father was going to kill her, he was going to run her through, adrenaline surging through him as he watched helplessly. Then in attack, his father lunged suddenly, fiercely growling in rage. Emma shifted her weight to let him use his power to her advantage, sending him through a thick clay urn in a clattering heap. Her knees buckled but she caught herself by leaning on the hilt of the sword, turning to smile. Killian felt a bark of laughter bubble up in his throat at her refusal to listen to anything he said, every bit of him trying to force out how he felt. Instead of listening to his gurgling whisper, Emma whistled, footfalls approaching from nearby, as servants joined her or ran past to safety.

"Emma -" 

She clapped a hand over his mouth as he let out a groan, his ribs shooting pain up his nerves. Soon, Iago and Abu were helping to drag him behind a thick hedge as chaos enfolded around them from more bandits coming from every direction. Servants screamed and fought, Emma looking worse for wear with every step as she defended them with weak blocks and parries until she could no longer, collapsing into sitting. With her finally among them, Iago finished drawing something in chalk on the ground. Silence fell over them along with a thick shadow, the murky bubble of safety swallowing the assorted Fae that hid with them in its thick mass. Emma leaned against Killian, looking down at his bleeding face with remorse. 

"You're going to be alright?" she asked, a hand shakily tracing where his eye socket was most certainly broken. He nodded, wincing and Emma smiled, looking as if she might cry. "I can't heal you. I'm so sorry, I wish I could. You're going to have to wait for the healers or…"

Or rely on the Darkness. The words she couldn't bring herself to say. 

He swallowed hard, nodding again. 

"Princess, you need to rest, you are safe in this shadow for the time being unless someone can undo Goblin runes. You were running a high fever before and -" 

"Yes, Iago. I know," Emma sighed. Glancing down at him again, he could see the dark circles under her eyes clearly, and the deep hollows in her face that caught shadow themselves. "I'll rest in just a moment, I just… I have questions I need answered. I know you're hurting Killian, but try, please?"

He nodded with a grunt of pain. 

"Did you mean to return the shard to me? Did you over power the Darkness?" 

"Yes," he managed to grit out. 

"Ali is… Whatever Ali is, he's a traitor?" 

"Aye. Thief."  There was blood in his brain, he could feel it, the swelling making sparks behind his eyes. "Aladdin."

Swallowing, he tried to gather his thoughts, a question burning on his tongue. "Am I… You think I'm a monster? Irredeemable?" 

Emma smiled softly, her eyes wet. She looked terribly sad, all because of him, his mind falling away to the obvious answer that would come. Yes. She was sad because of his cowardice, his misdeeds. Yes, he was a monster, him and the Darkness together. 

"No, Killian. You're not irredeemable when you keep saving my life. You are just…" She paused, searching for a word. 

"A bloody fool?" He suggested, and her small laugh through the watery smile she directed at him made his own lips twitch upward. She stroked his hair, gently pushing strands aside. 

"Did you… did you cause this?" Her voice was so small, but still so loud in his ears. Emma's hand pressed his to her chest, indicating her illness. His thumb ran along the jutting shelf of her exposed clavicle as she shuddered slightly. 

The words dragged out in a slur as he tried to make them intelligible. "Don't know, but… Maybe… yes? M'sorry, love."

"I forgive you. I have this feeling, I know it wasn't you. It couldn't be you." It was raining, drops falling on his broken face. No, they were tears, Emma was crying again, openly now. He reached his hand up further with difficulty to touch her cheek, finding it was hot to the touch, her fever in full force. Gently, she pressed the wet apple of her cheek against his palm, and he wanted nothing more than to stop her from hurting because of him. "Please Killian, forgive me for everything. I'm so sorry I got sick, I'm sorry you had to be alone with the Darkness, I'm sorry I keep dreaming of you like I do. I'm sorry for all of it, I -" she choked on a sob. 

"No," he groaned, and her coughing became worse. He tried to catch his thoughts, or put them coherently in a way she could understand, but thought was becoming more and more difficult. "Not accepted." 

"Please -" 

"Not accepted," he mumbled again. How could he accept an apology when she had done nothing wrong? 

"Killian, please…" she sighed out in a strangled breath. Her coughing began anew, a servant catching her as she fell where Killian could not lift his head to see, the world spinning into nothingness. 

 *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It was never pleasant to fall into the Darkness when issues of mortality arose, and the sinewy bits of his body had to knit themselves back together, but it was increasingly unpleasant when the Darkness was furious inside him. It seethed, caustic as it boiled over his flesh and forced his bones back into place. It tore at muscle and dug into nerve endings just to stretch the pain out, watching the squirming of its vessel. 

However, Killian healed, and that was more than could be said of the princess. He had woken to healers bustling over her, a few pulling him onto a cot nearby while Jasmine barked directions hoarsely, but days had passed since the bandits had tried to stage their strange assault. 

They were all in a new area of the palace, walled off from potential further attacks and better guarded. Jasmine and her team were non stop motion and action as she made sure her people were safe. The truth was evident though, that Jasmine was beside herself, even as an investigation found that the bandits hadn't taken anything of value. Killian had heard whispers from servants that 'Prince Ali' had attacked the Sultana in cold blood, but he was not willing to press his luck at broaching that subject when his worries lay elsewhere. 

Foremost, his thoughts were preoccupied with Emma. He had not left her room even after her recovery, but he could not bring himself to follow through on his desires. The new space allowed for him to watch from a distance, to observe her from enough space where the temptation could be held at bay. He wanted to sit next to her bedside, to stroke her cheek, to gently push hair from her temple when it stuck as her temperature rose, to lay by her and hold her tightly. It was cowardice that held him back, however. He knew it, but the chance that she might hear him and ask what their dreams or that wonderful bloody kiss had meant during the siege caused immediate paralysis. 

Emma hadn't been lucid since the attack, her fever spiking multiple times while the illness raged on, unforgiving. Mostly she called for her mother, begged for relief from flames, and occasionally he thought he heard her call for him but it was ignored. She had a close call the last evening Killian had stayed, startling him when a loud noise began to ring through the room. Healers and medical attendants had run in, throwing aside everything as they worked to fix whatever was wrong, which Killian had only found out later was her body attempting to give out. After that, he struggled to stay near her when she clearly didn't recognize anyone close to her, let alone him. The temptation to hold her was overwhelming, the Darkness rapidly switching between unbearably loud or eclipsed by the need to be there. 

"Killian, a word," Jasmine said, crooking a finger towards him as she dismissed a crowd of servants. An Elven man and woman stayed behind, both wearing spectacles. Killian approached cautiously. 

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

Jasmine eyed him with the same wariness. "My doctors are puzzled by the princess and her illness. She's taken a turn for the worse I'm afraid. Worse still, with the bandit camp raiding our supplies, we don't have the means to keep up her treatment. We thought she might have weeks, but..."

"She's been unable to eat very much, her sleep is riddled with nightmares or waking hallucinations, her coughing seems to be caused by some sort of constricting force, but it is not anything we have experienced." The female doctor read notes off a leather-bound notebook, her voice trembling slightly. "Her magic is weak, growing weaker each time she seems to recover. It's as if there's poison in her veins."

"I'm afraid I don't know anything of importance," he managed to interject, though his mouth felt dry. He wondered why the Sultana and her small team seemed so on edge. "I've told everyone as much as I can, so I'm unsure of what more detailed information I can give -" 

"They are asking you to bring up to her what her plans would be if she were to expire in my kingdom, Killian. She's spoken to me about them, but not to you. She said before that you managed to avoid the subject. With Arthur gone and possibly able to create false statements about a proposal - " Jasmine touched his shoulder and he yanked away, staring at her as if she was mad. 

"She - there has to be more you can do? She's only a bit worse, not - I thought Arthur was misinformed or… But she was better, she was-" It hit him like a crushing blow, a wave that pulled you deep while simultaneously pushing the air from your lungs. "She can't be, we just - she just beat a creature Dragons could not slay, survived an attempted assassination by bandits! She was doing better, she said so! No, absolutely not. I demand to know what you are doing. She is sick and you are not doing enough! She can't be close to death, it's not possible -" 

"Yes," the female doctor said simply, her dark brown eyes looking at him with sadness. "She is. I'm sorry."

"We are trying our best m'lord, but she isn't responding to anything we do any longer. We had warned her that this day was coming, and she seems to be aware, but as her second you need to finalize her wishes. If she declines at this rate for another week, three at most -" 

"No." He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to breathe. "No, do something different, try something -" 

"We - we have m'lord. Her Majesty has given us every bit of her power to do so -" 

"Jasmine, can't you see what caused this?" Killian began to pace slightly, before turning to gesture in the direction of Emma's room. "Help her!" 

"I am, Killian. I cannot see what the cause is, that is in the past. I am as desperate as you are for another vision regarding the princess. Do you believe me an unkind host with all I have granted you?" 

He couldn't breathe, his fists balling as fingernails cut into his palms. "No, no, she can't die. I -" 

"You should spend what time she has left with her then," the male scientist grumbled. 

"What are you trying to imply mate?" Killian growled, "Because I'll -" 

"I don't mean to imply, m'lord. It’s just that she begs for you when we are present, and the kitchen maids say the only time that they have seen her calm is when you are visiting. An attendant said you shared an intimate moment in the attack, that several others corroborate." The man adjusted his glasses nervously, unable to make eye contact. "Sultana, I don't want to invoke his wrath, but…"

Jasmine sighed deeply. "You asked about the black handprint Killian, you made a point of it. You delayed treatment that could have kept her alive. You carry the title of Dark One, and the power of the Darkness. My doctor does not feel that your question is coincidental, and I… We need to know that you are on our team. Arthur, Hades and Ali - Aladdin - were traitors that I - we trusted. Their accusations of you are still concerning no matter their own actions against us. I need to know you're willing to help her."

Killian swallowed hard, carefully mulling over his words. He paused, and then let out a hiss of air. "They would be right. I don't know how I would have caused this though, unless it happened in the dreams we shared. I would never hurt her."

"But, you did."

"I'm aware of that!" he snapped, rounding on the doctor with a snarl. "I - I won't hurt her. It wasn't me who - I wasn't in control of my actions, and I have no recourse for that. If you can't help her, I'll find someone who will." 

Killian fled, the one place he wanted to be forbidden to him if he valued his sanity. But still, she suffered. Why couldn't they heal her? Her light was there, it could not be his fault; her light would crush any sort of stain like it was nothing. 

He needed to see her and see this illness for himself without worry. Under the cover of starlight, he moved into her room where she lay sleeping. She looked worse still, black creeping up her chest and different pads pressed against the dark blotches that seemed to be the worst. The Darkness had no understanding of his upset, or how much he wanted her, its insistence that he could not care deafening. 

It wasn't true though. 

"I don't know if you can hear me, or if you are even aware of me, but I… It's been so hard to ignore you. I hate myself for what I've done to you, and how terribly you’ve been hurt by the way I treated you. I was trying to push you away, I was trying to let you go, but I was so wrong. I've been so close to giving in and laying here with you, only to force myself to refuse your requests. You are my constant desire, I long to simply touch you, to feel your hand in my own. I miss you, I am so ashamed of my need for you... If I would have known, I would have never stopped anything at all. I'm so tired of hurting you, of not being able to make any decisions that keep you safe. So please, if you can hear me, please make the decision to live so I can keep trying."

Her voice startled him, Emma's eyes staying closed. "Am I going to die then?" she whispered in a cracked voice. 

He squeezed her hand, the slight smile she attempted pained. "Not if I can help it, love."

"I thought you must hate me, but you're here." The awe in her voice was like a blade. How could he let things go this wrong? "You're always such a hero when it comes to me. It suits you. It suits you more than the Darkness, even."

"A hero? No, you have it wro -" 

"You… You and I shared memories… I want to remember, but…" She opened her eyes, staring at him with adoration. His immediate reaction was to swallow the urge to scream, not at her, but at the unfairness of her looking at him in such a way. She was supposed to forget everything that had transpired. She had to forget. That wasn't him, it could never be him. Not with the Darkness staining his life. 

"What are you talking about?"

"You kept coming back for me, saving me. I wanted you to kiss me, and you tasted like sweet wine when you did. We danced again and again." She lifted herself, trying to stand and he pushed her back down onto the mattress. Tucking the thin sheets around her body, he tried to keep his emotion contained. Unable to look at her, he trained his sight on his sandals. 

"Emma - you shouldn't be getting up like that. You're very ill and need to rest." 

Emma didn't seem to hear him, suddenly crying out in pain as she wheezed, coughing in a harsh fit. When she managed to end it and gulped down air, she shivered as a sheen of sweat began to cover her skin. A small smile fell on her lips, her gaze shifting to dizzily fixate on his seat. She tried to reach for him again without grace, knocking over various bottles and untouched bowls of food. "Dancing with you made me happy… We should do that again sometime. Maybe later tonight at the Harvest Festival?" 

"You need to -" Killian stood to push her back onto the bed again, but she fell back on her own, her elbow buckling under her weight. The whimper she let out broke his heart, her muscles straining. 

"I'm burning. Killian, please make it stop. I want my Mom." 

"Shh, darling." Soothing her with a few hummed notes, she relaxed into dozing while he held her clammy hand in his. 

"Am I dreaming again? Or are you real? I miss you so much from what we were there. I miss how easily you -" Her voice ended in a gasp, coughing taking the rest of the thought. Killian tried to give her a bit of water in a small stone ladle laid out, but she struggled to swallow the liquid. He was struck by how small and how tired she looked. 

"Yes, love. You're dreaming." 

"I like the dreams like this. I miss you caring about me," Emma murmured in a forlorn voice. Killian let his lips rest against her knuckles. 

Speaking into her curled fingers, he let them muffle his words. "I do too."

"Why am I so tired? I miss the dreams that I could… "

"Because you need your rest, darling. Please, just rest. I'll be back soon." 

"Do you promise?" 

"Emma - yes. Yes, I promise." 

"Please don't break it, okay? I don't want to lose you." 

"I -" 

"I told you that I loved you, remember?" Emma whispered with a soft hum of a sigh. Killian felt frozen, the way she looked up at him, gingerly intertwining his fingers into her own. Her skin felt papery, but so warm against his. "If I'm going to die, you should know that I meant it. I meant it here too, all of you. I chose to see the best in you, and I see it so clearly sometimes - "

"You don't know what you're saying. You need to sleep, Princess. Go to sleep." She coughed again, but settled as he asked. 

Emma’s condition had worsened more than he could have dared to imagine. Her whimper of pain was raspier, her hand squeezing his. The urge to scream was back, the Darkness wondering why its vessel's eyes burned. If she died, he would never forgive himself. He’d raze Selune Isle to ashes; anything to forget about her. 

"You don't have to say it back. You don't have to feel it, either. Nothing unsaid between us. Nothing, now. I love you. I… " Her breathing evened out into hard exhales, sleep hard to ignore with how little oxygen she seemed to be keeping in her lungs. 

"I never stopped." He couldn't bring himself to say any more than that, to whisper a truth she should know, or to even think it, lest the Darkness hear his murmured admission. 

 *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

 In the early morning light, Emma lay still even as the sun tried to warm her sweaty forehead and the wind attempted to pull at her damp hair. She hadn't woken since the last time they had spoken, the night full of close calls and terror he hadn't known he could still feel. Killian sat by her side dutifully through it all, gently stroking her hand. The Darkness protested his urge to cry with venom, its screeching voice unable to break through his desire for her to come back to him. 

"Come back to me, love," he whispered. "I should have known when we fell from the sky into this world and I had to pull you from the water, that I would never have enough of you. I should have told you when you defeated Pan, or when you kissed me. I should have made it clear how I felt when we were reunited in Ursula's grotto, and how wrong I was. I should have whispered it like I wanted to so desperately when we danced on Selune, or I woke to you curled next to me. I should have told you that you were like an angel, when you in turn pulled me from my own hell, and I will forever regret not saying anything," Swallowing hard, he tucked a golden tendril of her hair behind her ear. "So, come back Emma. Please."

"Killian," Jasmine said from behind him. He looked up, and she crooked a finger, beckoning him to follow her into the courtyard area. He pressed a soft kiss to Emma's cheek before pulling himself reluctantly from her bedside. 

They sat in silence, a servant serving juices and a platter of various fresh fruit. Jasmine finally spoke after several minutes of both of them staring at the food but making no moves to taste it. 

"Killian, she's not going to last much longer," Jasmine said shakily. "Even if we could keep her alive, it would be cruel at this point."

Anguish and panic coursed through his veins. No. Not Emma. "What about the envoy you sent to Selune Isle, to seek out the Dragons?" 

Jasmine shook her head. "They have not let the ship into the barrier, even with our flags raised. My captain keeps circling and hoping someone greets him so he may request aid." 

"Bloody hell, they were in the process of making posts for this type of patrol but had not started." He laid his head in his hands, before standing abruptly and flipping the table in front of him. Jasmine watched, impassive, as he crushed grapes and figs among the shards of broken serving platters. 

The silence that came after, as he knelt in the shards of colored bowls and fragrant fruit, was interrupted by Jasmine's whisper. 

"Killian, Did you really hurt her?" 

"I -" He began, surprised when the word escaped him like a sob. 

"Don't lie to me," Jasmine whispered again, her voice grave. 

"Yes," Killian admitted. "I crushed her heart in a nightmare. I am the cause of her illness, and I'll do anything to help her get better. I didn't - I never meant for -" 

"It might not have been you, Killian, we don't know." Jasmine attempted to soothe, but he only barked out a cold, mirthless laugh. "It's not dark magic that is causing the strange blackness on her skin like you thought; this could be something else. Just because that happened -" 

"Tell me something, Sultana," Killian interrupted, scrubbing his face with his hand. "Is there a future you've seen, even a chance, that rids me of this curse?" The Darkness bit at him, protesting his question. He found he didn't care.

"I don't - I am still unable to see as much as I should," Jasmine said quickly before hesitating. "But… There is a future where you free yourself, yes. A few paths, almost all clouded by failure. The path I saw had you and the princess closely tied by the fates, her life in the balance."

"Because of course it bloody is. She’s going to die because of me -" 

"No - well, maybe, but not yet - there's still a chance. The path is longer, it does not end here. I am not able to see clearly with Aladdin's magic in my way. I am trying, but there's so much darkness…"

"Answer without sodding riddles, you are not a Sphinx!" 

"You said you would do anything to help her. Would you swear it instead on her name? The name of the woman I think we both know you lo -" 

"I swear on Emma, on my Swan, I swear it."

"Swear on yourself, Killian Jones, the man who is the Dark One. You must believe fully in your heart that you will save her."

"I…" Killian hesitated, swallowing hard. Taking a deep breath, he set his jaw. "I swear on myself."

Liar! You cowardly and pathetic shell of a man. LIAR. 

"Remember that, remember when you are fighting your worst enemy -" 

"Sultana!" A servant slammed the door wide open, looking at both of them in surprise. "Oh, I - uh -" 

"How dare you interrupt this!" Jasmine hissed, her eyes burning bright. "What was so important that ---" 

"It could not wait, my Sultana. I beg forgiveness, but it could not be delayed!" The servant threw himself at her feet, groveling. "Please, have mercy my Sultana! It is in regards to the sick woman, the princess." 

Both Killian and Jasmine glanced at each other. Killian stood, the servant beginning to quake with further fear as he stood next to Jasmine. 

"Who told you the princess was here?" Killian asked, his voice betraying his rising anger. "No one should know that, not a damned bloody soul -" 

"They named her by her first name! I swear! They say that they have a cure for the princess, and are friends of hers. They named you specifically Dark One, or Killian Jones."

Killian’s eyes narrowed, and he ground his teeth in thought, although his jaw protested. 

"Will you go? I can send sentries or an accompanying party," Jasmine said lowly. "If it's a threat we can -" 

"No. I'll go, and if I don't return, I don't return. If they have medicine for her, I'll find a way to get it. I swear it." 

Jasmine nodded, the servant handing an envelope to Killian before fleeing with a series of bows. 

"Let us hope that they are friends and not foes, with an actual cure for Princess Emma." Jasmine made a religious symbol with her hands, kissing the center. 

"I don't pray, and I don't hope." Killian brushed past Jasmine, without looking back. "If they don't have a bloody cure for my Swan, they won't have any prayers or any hope either." 

 *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

 Killian moved through the docks, and to their ship with practiced ease in the quiet alleyways he had discovered during his avoidance of Emma. The sandstone homes and terracotta steps that weaved to the sea were a fitting distraction for him to lose himself in, and a perfect metaphor for his jumbled thoughts. 

Who was it that wanted to speak to Emma through him? How did they know that from the thousands of ships moored in the docks of Agrabah, Emma had made a safe passage through the portals on the Jolly Roger? Who else knew? 

The thought of Nil sent a shudder down his spine, Emma's nightmare once again fresh in his mind. 

  You can keep her safe, but only if you fight for her. 

Only if you fight for your happiness, and yourself. 

 The quiet voice that was once blocked by the Darkness was growing bolder. 

 The Darkness strained against his constant pressure, snarling at his reinvigorated conscience. 

You can't save anyone, let alone your damned soul. I own you. I am you. You can't hold me back forever, and I will never go away. 

When you least expect it, I will destroy everything you love - all you have to do is let yourself relax. 

Holding his forehead in one hand, Killian pressed on, jumping on the deck of the ship with his sword drawn. Two Fae eyed him warily as he moved his feet into a fighting stance. He could not identify what sort of Fae or who they were, but they seemed to be close, the woman pushed behind the man with shaggy brown hair in a protective gesture Killian recognized as something he had done for Emma. 

The male counterpart rested his deep brown eyes on Killian, before smiling slightly. He bowed carefully, Killian grimacing and following the stranger with his sword's point. 

"You're him then? The Dark One? Killian Jones of the Blackwater?" the stranger asked. 

"Yes, and who are you?" Killian raised his sword higher, jabbing it as the man jumped back in surprise. "How did you come to know what -" 

The woman was heavy with child, which gave him pause until the man was throwing himself in front of her. He put his hands up, cowering slightly. "Is Emma alright? Did she remember to not use her magic? And you, did you take care of her? We warned her when she was under the rites, but it took longer than we thought to get here."

"You - how - " Killian faltered, but shook it off to straighten again, gripping his cutlass tighter. "I ask again: What business do you have with the princess?" 

"I'm Henry. I'm a friend I swear, and I serve fealty to her and the crown family. Emma is ill, yes? The Kitsune witch put some sort of parasitic creature in her; we told her this before we left to find you both. We sent her here to get help. We knew the Sultana could keep her alive and protected long enough for us to make our way here." Killian let his arm drop, the man relaxing without the blade in his face. "I have a spark of light magic I hold as a Hol guardian and protector of the realms. Time is completely out of control, and the Goblins are attacking pocket realms just like this one. Emma needs this to survive, and to fight back."

Henry produced a glowing ball of light that was iridescent in the sunshine. It sparkled like a faceted diamond as Henry held it. 

"I didn't know. Emma… she doesn't remember everything that happened, and she is barely holding on." Killian set his jaw, furious with himself. "I have to go, I need to save her."

The woman spoke, her accented voice drenched in exhaustion. "Thank you. We will seek passage again -" 

"Take this ship. It's stocked and ready to go, as I was…" Shame rose on his throat as he thought about almost leaving before. "Just take it. I'll save her." 

"You must know, this magic is akin to yours, Dark One." Henry approached cautiously, holding out the orb. The Darkness screeched, burrowing further into him, desperate to escape the strange ethereal glow the globe emitted. "The other side of the coin, the flicker of light that casts your shadow. Both have their extremes, and both can be addictive. Do not let her become blinded by the brightness as you cannot let yourself become lost in your abyss."

Killian let the spark fall in his palm, where it dimmed. He frowned and Henry clapped a hand on his shoulder. 

"Hurry, Dark One. Not only does Emma not have much time, but the longer you hold that spark, the more it will fade."

Killian gave no reply, sheathing his sword and turning in a single motion. The jump to the pier after launching himself off the deck was with as much grace as he could muster, his feet moving as soon as he had purchase, running as fast as his feet would carry him towards the palace. There was hope. He was absolved of one misdeed on his long list, and Emma would not suffer soon enough. Cruella had caused this, not him, and Emma had begged him to stay with faith that he was good, that he could be redeemed. She could be saved now, and he had faith she would be alright with the magic thrumming in his palm. 

It was a blur to her quarters, the sound of breaking glass chilling him. Someone was yelling, a strange blue smoke swirling around her quarters. People were on the ground coughing profusely as the shadow of a man pulled Emma into his arms. No, not just a man, his face visible as he turned. A thief Killian recognized at once. 

"Emma! No, wait -"

Emma's face was flushed against the thief's shoulder, her arms hanging weakly at her sides. She limply tried to reach out to Killian, but neither was fast enough when the thief jumped from the window. Killian ran to the window, terrified of how and where they had landed when there was a sheer drop outside, but could see no evidence of a fall from the balcony. A carpet whooshed past him as Jasmine ran into the room, Aladdin addressing them as Emma lolled in his hold barely conscious.

"We'll be at the Cave of Wonders, so don't dawdle. Especially since she doesn't have much time left." 

"No! Please, she's -" Killian lunged, almost falling the sheer drop from the balcony as Jasmine wrenched him back. 

"Aladdin, don't do this! Please!" Jasmine shouted, and Aladdin stared at her with a pained look crossing his face. The blue cracks on his skin had reached his chin and cheeks, tearing the flesh there. Emma had been right, the thief harbored magic that he clearly could not control. 

"You, Sultana, should know better than anyone that I have no choice." he said flatly. "Dark One, my Masters offer you a trade. Your life for hers. Make your choice."

"I - please don't -" Jasmine began, but Aladdin simply shook his head sadly, the carpet speeding into the sky. 

Killian roared with anger, his body full of a rage he could feel in every cell. Jasmine was barking orders hoarsely, people scurrying around behind him as he whirled to look at the Sultana. 

"Where did he -" 

"The Cave of Wonders. I'm responsible for this, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you get Emma back." She touched his shoulder, looking surprised when he took another menacing step forward. 

"I said, where -" 

"I'll take you." Jasmine looked out across the desert, then turned to a few lingering servants. "We leave at once." 

Trying to pull away from him, he held her wrist firmly. "What is going on here? What happened with your thief, and why did he take Emma?" The growl of impatience and anger in his voice made Jasmine flinch, but she didn't answer as her brows pinched together. "Sultana!" 

Jasmine broke from her thoughts, carefully pulling away at the cage of his fingers to loosen his grip. "He was rambling the last time I saw him, and sick. He's a Djinn. Obviously fighting against his master's control on him, by the looks of it, which…" She paused, looking intently at his fingers. "He kept saying that he didn't want to hurt me, he didn't want to kill me, for me to run from him because the pull was too strong. He wanted me to end his life, and I didn't. I didn't believe him, and now, Emma…" 

Killian dropped her wrist, fighting the emotions that came to the surface, the situation eerily reminiscent. A master that demanded absolute obedience, and those caught in the crossfire being hurt despite every attempt. Aladdin had seen through him and the Darkness so quickly, catching him so off guard he hadn't seen the clear understanding the man held of his predicament. 

"The Carpets are ready, Sultana." A servant announced with a slight bow. "We will have to cross bandit blockades to get through to the cave, which Iago has located."

Jasmine nodded, turning to walk briskly toward another attendant that carried a hooded cloak as well as a knapsack. "The Cave of Wonders is the resting place of the Djinn All Father, or the Lord of Djinn. He can make people Genies, which is why he has been sealed away in a magical dungeon since my mother's death."

"So, this dungeon presumably is in all likelihood highly fortified by Jafar, Hades, and Arthur's men who have not one, but two Djinn?" Killian ran a hand through his hair, his jaw working. "We need a bloody army -" 

"One Genie. Aladdin. Who is down to his final wishes from the look of his degradation. The Djinn All Father does not leave his chambers or use his magic outside of creation for any reason, not since his daughter died resulting in his self imposed banishment." Swallowing hard, Jasmine stepped onto a carpet as it floated, Killian sitting by her side. "My mother. He is my Grandfather, and never stopped blaming himself for her fate, and my own."

The carpet rushed through the air, Killian's stomach immediately in his throat as their small group wove through the clouds. They were met with brief attacks here and there as they crossed what seemed like an empty expanse of cooked earth, none requiring a full scale assault. Unease prickled at the back of his mind when more than half of their original force had fallen behind to end small fights. This was clearly an ambush, but one that there was no choice but to fall into. The Sultana knew as well based on her terse expression when they drew near a a huge sand hill in the shape of a tiger. It's maw was opened wide, light beckoning from its throat where steps led down into the ground. They landed low as men swarmed from within, swords raised, yelling wild cries.

"Do not touch anything inside, Killian!" Jasmine shouted over the sounds of steel. "It's all enchanted to try and entice you - go straight to Emma." 

Killian gave her a nod, running to weave through the sparring crowd. The Sultana barked orders to cover him while he slashed through the first trickle of men defending the place, through halls filled with mountains of gold, through a banquet room of overflowing delicacies, all while curving deeper and deeper into the earth. 

Large, columned, doors that dwarfed him in size eight fold opened to a huge chamber lined with more columns. The floor was cracked in places, sand drifting from the ceiling to the floor making small hills or rocky platforms. On one flattened ledge, lay Emma. 

Her night dress clung to her skin, teeth visibly chattering while her eyes were screwed firmly shut. Warmth flooded Killian's chest, the strangeness of his heart both jumping out of and freezing in synchrony not stopping his feet from moving on their own accord to get to her. The shard rested on her bruised chest, his presence not acknowledged even as he touched her burning cheeks. Her breathing hitched when his thumb swept over a smudge on the apple of her cheek, the sliver of foggy green under her lashes the most precious thing he had seen in the stone halls varied treasures. 

"Kil -" Emma tried to whisper, but could not do so without coughing, her breath coming out in a rattling heave. Without grace, she tried to move closer to his body, instead falling back with a resounding thump. 

"Love, oh Emma, I'm so sorry." She moaned softly at the sound of his voice, clinging to him, the concave of her bosom barely moving from her shallow breaths. "Stop, stop trying to move, please -"

"You… You can't… Must… Go." Emma coughed again, before panting heavily. "Don't…" 

Smiling softly at her he kissed her temple, her surprised face making his own heart skip a beat. "You are too important to not fight for. For others to fight for. Henry found you a cure, love. You're going to be alright, you'll be just fine." 

"You… You don't… Even… Like… Me…" she gritted out. Closing her eyes, Killian held her close. "Couldn't stand... to... stay... even a… a… few minutes…"

"You're wrong. I should have stayed, and I wanted to more than anything. I didn't want you to get hurt - You weren't supposed to remember everything that happened when you were under the Kitsune's power, but you against all odds are. You're remembering, and I acted… I am a coward. I tried to avoid you because if you remember what happened, what transpired between us - "

"It's…?" 

"The dreams about us, the ones that you feel like you lived, like they're memories - they are real. They're what happened when you went through the Harvest ritual."

Emma tried to get out of his grip, pulling and pushing against his hands. She thrashed, her voice ringing in the space. "Why! How could you -" 

"Stop it, you're going to kill yourself. This is why, right here. Between everything happening, I'm going to hurt you, or you will get hurt because of the Darkness. Why don't you understand? Why don't you value your life like you should!" 

"I… I… don't want…" She hesitated, before looking up at him, her eyes wet and full of a deep sadness. "To lose you." 

"It's too strong, Emma. It's threatening your existence, and I am not strong enough to keep it at bay. I need to go, I need to stay away from you, if you and I are to ever be able to speak candidly about what happened. You deserve that much, and more."

Weakly, Emma whispered a rough plea. "Stay."

Killian chuckled lowly, trying to memorize her features. "I'll be happy knowing that you had a future, darling. Even if I'm not in it."

Pressing the spark against her sternum as he gave her forehead a peck, his arms wrapped around her to support her as she coughed. Emma doubled over, silk like threads escaping her mouth. She let out a muffled moan, gagging until she vomited a translucent, glittering, mother of pearl colored cocoon on the cave floor. Out of it, a black slug-like creature crawled with a familiar looking red nail stinger on its end, Killian crushing it immediately with his boot. The Kitsune had put one last creeping parasite into Emma, it's manifestation draining her to death to avenge its host. Repugnant, and very on brand of Cruella. 

Emma took a steady breath, the rattle gone. She glowed slightly, her power making his skin tingle. 

"Don't go with them, they aren't -" Emma tried to say something but was drowned out by the sounds of shouting from all around them. 

"What?" 

Arthur's voice was suddenly echoing around the cave. "Bind him with the ink."

"Killian, listen to me," Emma begged. Something burst over him, showering them with a spray of dark smoke. Killian tried to shield her, but to his great surprise found he was frozen in place. Emma touched his face in fear, her attempts to get her magic to work proving fruitless. "No, they're going to take you, that's what they wanted all along is you and the shard together -" 

She was wrenched away by several men, laughter echoing through the caves. Jasmine was thrown next to her, Aladdin stepping in front of them. His body was in pieces, skin melting away to sparking electric blue underneath. 

"Don't hurt them -" Killian bit out, Jafar sliding past him with a smirk. "I'll go willingly, just don't hurt them." 

Jafar laughed, a fist connecting to his face from the other side of his head. Arthur's voice oozed into his ringing ear. "Thought you might deserve that one, mate. "

Hades appeared in his peripheral, leaning down to hold up Emma's chin as her arms were held back. 

"This does put a damper on our timeline. Her being alive does not provide the Dark One the emotional turmoil we had initially planned on," Hades stated, his eyes flicking back to Killian. "We'll need to kill her here. Genie, please - "

Jafar scoffed. "The Genie is worthless for killing. He can't make anyone fall in love, bring back the dead, or kill anyone according to his code of honor. That's the only reason the Sultana still breathes." 

Aladdin looked down at the ground, Jasmine staring at him in surprise. 

"So, what's the plan then?" Hades asked, rolling his eyes. "We could take them to the compound which is a waste of time and resources, kill them here which wastes some time, or leave them behind to die here. There's no way out for the two of them."

Killian felt his voice loose before he could hold himself back. "No! No, please. I'll go with you willingly if you let them live, I swear it. I want to be rid of this scourge, and I will happily let you do whatever you want with me as long as you let them go."

Emma's head snapped up, her eyes wide. "No, Killian, what are you even saying? You can't be rid of it, they'll kill you -" 

A hand clapped over her mouth, her muffled words shrill. 

"We truly should keep the girl if she has this much hold over him. Imagine what torture on her would do for his compliance," Arthur mused, rubbing his scruff. Killian could see the bruising on his face from their last encounter, his eye still slightly purple. "I could also use her for the takeover of the United Realms -" 

"No. It's not worth keeping her alive." Hades shook his head, tone still methodical and cold. "My plan hinges on her death as a means of cooperation between the Goblins, United Realms, and the manipulation of the Dark One." 

"If you kill her, or harm her at all, I will never serve you. The dagger piece will never hold me, no matter how much magic you pour on me," Killian hissed, seething. He moved forward, striking towards Hades who had to lunge away. More of the black smoky substance was thrown at him, but he managed the best he could to fight it. "If you let them go, I won't fight. Only if you let them go."

There was a yelped curse from one of the men holding her, then Emma's voice pained and pleading. "Killian, no!" Emma cried, their eyes meeting. 

He smiled gently, as well as he could manage. "Let me die, or release myself from this torment, darling. Let that be the man you remember: The man who died the hero he wanted to be, for you. For us."

"Please, no. I can't -" Emma whimpered, the hand clapped back over her lips roughly as she struggled. 

"Fine. Deal taken." Hades nodded. Jafar scowled coldly. 

"Well, if we're discarding them here to be let go, Aladdin should also be left behind," Jafar drawled. 

Hades snapped his head to look at his partner. "What are you -" 

"Aladdin, for my second wish, I wish to be the sorcerer Sultan of Agrabah."

"No! You can't -" Jasmine cried out. 

A burst of magic surrounded her, her jeweled crown evaporating into dust, her clothes replaced by brown muslin. In a flash of light Jafar changed as well, his clothing embroidered in golden thread, the vest he wore covered in jewels. Upon his head sat a turban with a deep set ruby, the facets glittering like a crimson eye. "And as for our deal, for my third wish, I wish you were free of your binds as a Genie, living without your phenomenal cosmic powers. Be a Djinn no more." 

Hades groaned, his face full of obvious fury. 

Aladdin shimmered, the blue that had been eating away at him exploding outward as he fell to his knees. When he wobbled to his feet again, the fine clothes he wore dissolved to rags, blue dust shimmering over his skin. Jasmine blinked, her mouth opening in surprise. 

"You!" Jasmine pointed at Aladdin, a hand covering her mouth in shock. "But you're that peasant -" 

"I wanted to tell you Jasmine, but -" Aladdin started, sand beginning to pour from more gaps in the ceiling. 

"So you see, Prince Ali is merely a street rat. Just a bore, no longer so worldly, a weakling once more, brought down to size. As for me? " With his long, gnarled fingers he pointed to Jasmine. "I don't have to waste my time thinking of ways to kill you any longer. This will be a fitting grave for you, Sultana."

"No, you're not to hurt them, not to kill them as I said!" Killian grunted as he was dragged backwards, more of what he thought might be the same ink they had used before on the shard thrown in his face. It became hard to speak, his lungs burning from their inability to give him oxygen. 

"We aren't hurting them, and certainly not killing them, just as you desire Dark One." Jafar's smile was wide, crazed. "Leaving them here fits your requirements. If they starve in these caves, or fall prey to the many traps, it was not us."

Killian tried to struggle, but more of the substance kept being pushed on him, hands gripping him tightly as he was dragged back. He almost lost sight of Emma, but a captor dropped him without grace, and he could finally see her again. She was no longer looking at him, but instead stared at Arthur. 

Arthur approached Emma, his smile wide, lifting her chin. She pulled away in disgust at his touch, still unsteady as her hands shook. 

"You're just like Guinevere. Neither of you deserve me. You don't see my greatness; you're selfish just as she was. You could never have helped me wield Excalibur, or control the Darkness." He tugged on Emma's chain necklace, the protective enchantment giving way around his own force. It slipped from her neck even as she struggled, hanging from Arthur's palm. "At least I have this as a consolation prize. It makes it much easier not having to pretend to have feelings for you. All kingdoms for the price of the Dark One."

With a wave of Hades' hand, a golden elevator cage appeared around Killian and his captors. Emma shook her head, Killian frozen by the black concoction they'd thrown at him, the Darkness roaring with glee. She reached for the rising bars, reaching for him, her fingers wrapped tightly in his instead of caring about the shard like she should have - why him, what could he - 

"No, I can't say goodbye to you again!" Emma yelled, her face set in stubbornness. His limbs loosened, her magic weak but her determination strong, Jafar letting out a frustrated noise of disgust at her outburst. 

Killian came back into his body, clutching her hand tightly as her fingers scrabbled desperately trying to hold him. They parted, her scream of fury and sadness tearing at him. 

"I will find you, I will always find you! Please Killian, know that I will not ever stop until we are together again." 

The words gave him courage, his heart filled with pride and adoration. Emma would find him, he had no doubt. He would not let this place be her tomb. When he was able to move fully he rushed forward, smashing his forehead into the sorcerer's nose as hard as he could, grabbing the shard as they passed upwards into light of day. Pushing it into the abyss below as sand swallowed what was the entrance of the Cave of Wonders, Jafar bellowed out a noise, kicking him down and face first into the scorching sand. 

It didn't matter how many times the livid sorcerer kicked him or shouted to the skies, Emma would get her magic back. She would heal, they had the shard, and if he had any chance to peel the Darkness currently howling inside him away, he would take it. She would find him, free of his curse, and they would finally be together. 

  I can feel your doubt, boy.

  You know that you can't be free of me. Even in death, I remain. I am the constant in this body, you are just an echo. When Emma finds you again, I will have so much fun tearing her limbs off as the Dark One, without a trace of you left. 

  Nothing can save you now.

 "No," Killian moaned, as they dragged him through the sand, their camels forcing him to stumble blindly behind them. "No, never. Not Emma. No."

In the end, Killian hoped Emma would forgive him, and by some miracle he could be free. 

[knightmaring]

tw self harm, blood, mentions of abuse, murder, death.

The stones were placed deliberately, a winding maze stretching out of the cave's mouth. He didn't know if Deimos was the god or hero of his people's religion, but it was a vital part of his identity and one of the only ways he could think to explain to his father.

Hudson sets the last stone in place and grabs his bag, pulling out a paper house. "Hey, Deimos..." he calls out to the night sky. "Dad or father. I don't know what you want me to call you, but, uh, it's me? Hudson. Your son." He steps forward into his maze. "I'm not really good with words and I don't know what sort of ...offering  you're expecting." He continues on, winding around and into the cavern's mouth, swallowed by its darkness.

"I hope you don’t mind if I explain a few things first.” This wasn’t an offering of fear, because despite the fact that his father was the literal god of fear, Hudson didn’t feel… scary. Sure, people were intimidated by his stature and sometimes his skin color, or the simple fact that he was a man, but for the most part Hudson felt like a hamster in wolf’s clothing. “It’ll make sense in the end, I hope.” His heels click against the hard rock of the cave’s floor, each step accompanied by a soft jingle of the bobs of his spurs.

“My life's been... rough." He murmurs, licking his lips nervously. "The first five years my sisters and I, we were on and off the streets, in and out of foster care. Until we met Craig," he pauses and sets the house down on the floor between his boots. "It was the first real home we had and he was real nice, at first." Pulling his dagger from his belt, Hudson cuts the back of his hand. Blood trickles down, spilling around the paper house. "I was five years old when he married mom, and once that happened, it was like a light switch went off on him."

Shuffling forward, Hudson continues onward, a hand on the cave's wall to guide him. "I met Mr. Floyd a few months after that. Really cool dude. Taught me and my sisters a bunch of stuff. He's got a raccoon, Dipshit." Hudson pauses again, rummaging through his bag until he finds what he's looking for: a paper raccoon figure. "Mr. Floyd taught me to shoot a bb gun." He says, setting it down between his feet and repeating the process of cutting himself.

"We used to practice behind his shop on pictures of famous people. I got really good at it." He grins at the memory, finger gunning the darkness with a soft pew.

The grin slips away and he's back to wandering the maze nature had built into the mountain, a hand pulling out another paper creation from his bag. Calloused fingers rub at the folded edges of a gun. "Craig got worse. Mom didn't want to leave because we'd be without a house or food, which meant we'd get torn apart again... I was scared he might kill her or my sisters one day." He drops the paper gun, pressing the knife to his hand until he feels the sharp stick and the wet slick of blood again. Hudson lets out a hiss of pain. "So, I killed him. Pew!" Hudson mimics the finger gun motion again. "Right through his left eye."(edited)

The demigod grows quiet, frowning in the darkness. "The cops came and took mom away. My sisters and I ended up in foster homes. Separated." He pushes onward, the sound of ruffling wings and soft chirps from the cave's ceiling draw his gaze upward. Bats, he figures. "I bounced around a few homes after that, but the worst house was the Young’s. They used to put stuff in my food at night." His voice dips down to a strained, barely audible whisper. "I dunno if it was so I wouldn't fight back or if they thought I wouldn't remember, but---" Hudson's voice cracks and he stops, heart hammering in his chest. "I remember bits and pieces of what they did to me. Sometimes, I'll remember new things."

Hudson drops a paper cross to the ground, letting more blood rain down. A gust of wind that brushes past him, a soft flapping of fleshy wings trailing it. "Don't worry, life got better after that--- Some law got passed not too long  after that and me and my sisters all got to go live with my grandma." He drops a little bird to the ground and continues with his trek. "Then, Mr. Floyd helped my mom get out of prison and they got married!" A blood slick paper ring is dropped.

"Things were good for a few years. For me, at least. My sister Denver had a harder time," he explains. "Craig had beat her real bad when we were young; got nerve damage in her leg. So, she was in constant pain... and," with his bloodied hand, he pulls out a paper hawk. "She lost hope that it'll ever stop hurting, that the chaos in her head will ever stop without the heroin." Kneeling to the ground, Hudson sets the bird down gently. "I got selfish, started spending more time with a girl in school---my first ever girlfriend---and I was barely home. Barely around to see Denver, to listen to her, to be there for her." He draws a fresh cut across his palm, wincing as he deepens it, almost as if he were punishing himself. "She got into a car accident. Killed some wealthy white dude who was out biking and drove off."

For a moment, Hudson simply sits there, letting his palm make a mess around the paper bird. It was one of the best years of his life, but all the good and happiness he experienced seemed small and insignificant when held up next to the heartbreaking events that lead up to his arrest and imprisonment. "We lived in Arizona, so you know, my sister coulda been tried as an adult even though she's just 16 and if that'd happened, then she woulda ended up on death row." A tear streams down his cheek. "So, I took the fall. I got that trial and ended up with that sentencing. She went to rehab, about four times. Then she overdosed five years later. I wasn't there for her again. I couldn't even attend her funeral.”

He sniffs back the avalanche of snot threatening to break free. "Prison sucked. Got stuck in the system for eight years, but thanks to a bunch of laws, my sentence was reduced to life in prison, then reduced again, and then commuted." He hisses as he pushes himself up off the cavern floor and presses onward. "Bounced around between jobs, bought my first house," if a mobile home counted as a house. "I was pretty active in the local anarchist community, and then uh, well, I ran for a city council seat... and I won."

He feels out the paper creations in his hand, and tosses the one he was fairly certain was a rainbow. "I jokingly proposed we legalize gay marriage in the city... as a publicity stunt for gay tourism, and uh... well, my bill passed." He lets out a laugh. "Yeah, the state government sued and apparently, that was the nail in the coffin for it to get bumped up to the Supreme Court." There's pride radiating off him. "Funny, huh? Bunch of scared old geezers suing us because they're afraid other cities in the state would copy cat and they'd be known as a gay state... well, their fear backfired on them real hard."

This was dragging on, and while he knew gods technically had all the time in the world, he suspected they also had the shortest attention spans in the world. "I met the love of my life a few years back," his grin softens into a pained smile. "Gideon, he's the most beautiful man I've ever met. He swept me off my feet with just a smile.” The lawyer was all sharp edges, cool as a cucumber, but there was a softness in his gaze when he looked at Hudson. Even his touches were soft, handling the demigod as if he were a delicate work of art. Hudson had never felt so cherished in his 30 years, and it hurt to think he might never experience that again. 

“Dude was a cop---well, a prosecutor, which is just a cop with a college degree. He didn’t want to be one, he wanted do civil rights stuff, but his dad wouldn’t let him. It got him killed---he got him killed." The memory of him trying to stop Gideon from bleeding out comes rushing back to him. He sinks to the ground, a paper daffodil and  heart  in hand and simply breathes. Moments pass in silence before he speaks again. “I’m not telling you this so you feel bad for me. Life isn’t life without a bit of pain.” Granted Hudson had a whole lot more than a bit. “I just wanted to show you that no matter how many times my life went to shit, I kept at it and I’ll keep fighting because I have hope.” Hope that he could beat whatever evils that threaten them. Hope that he can make the world a better place. And hope that he can get Gideon back, no matter what it’ll cost him.  He sets the last two of his paper creations down. “That’s what I’m offering.” He lets his head fall back against the hard cavern walls, staring up at the squeaking abyss above him. “I won’t stop no matter how hard it gets.” Suffering and hope went hand in hand. You couldn’t have one without the other. “I promise.”

A trail of  blood, sweat, tears, and fears turned into hope.

[secondhand-trash]

Battle Scars

@shinsoubowl​ Week Day 5 (Prompt: thunderstorm+scars+ “It’s not your fault, you know.”)

A/N: Oof I take it back, this was the hardest to write.

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x reader

Description: It was rough to see your lover coming home soaked from head to bottom and with a huge cut on his chest, but it pained you even more to see him so deep in self-blame.

Warning: describtion of wounds and scars

Word count: 2280

Playlist:

I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)//The 1975

Achilles Come Down//Gang of Youths

My Immortal//Evanescence

-

The windows trembled under the strong wind and you winced as you pulled the blanket closer to your body. The howling from outside and the occasional thunder only made you tensed up even more. It was 2 in the morning but Hitoshi was nowhere to be see and he usually returns from patrol a lot earlier than this hour. You knew that this was all part of what came with the profession he was in but you didn’t think there would be a day when you stop worrying about him as you waited anxiously in your shared home, especially with the brutal storm pouring on the streets.

Where was he? Would he be alright?

You jumped when you heard the door slammed open, snapping you out of your thoughts. You always prepared for the worst in situations like this but your heart still dropped when you saw your boyfriend standing at the door with water soaking through his clothes and dripping down his hair.

Normally, you would scold him for getting the floor wet but you could not bring yourself to even speak when you saw the gruesome cut on his chest. It slashed across his left chest down to the upper part of his waist, cutting through the fabric of his costume as the blood spread on the soaked fabric.

You stumbled to get up and ignored the blanket that slid off of you to the floor. He didn’t move as you walked towards him, you could feel how tensed his muscles were when you held onto him and helped him sit down on the chair by the dining table near the door. His eyes were soulless, staring into a distance void even when you went and grabbed the first aid kit that you conveniently stored in a drawer near where he sat. It was a habit you formed very early on in your relationship. If you could not stop him from getting harmed, the least you could do was patch him up after each injury.

But of all the cuts and bruises you had seen him come back with, this was the first time you saw pain in his eyes.

Hitoshi hissed in pain as you carefully took his shirt off, trying to avoid touching the wound as you lifted the wet fabric that was sticking to his skin. His face scrunched up as you gently dabbed a washcloth around his wound, cleaning up the grim around the cut. He did not say a word as you work on the cut and you didn’t dare to ask how he got it. No matter how, it seemed to bother him a lot.

He was staring into the distance at nothing in particular and your eyes darted away from his to avoid seeing the emptiness he was displaying in his. As you try to clean the cut, you took notice to the many scars on his upper body. Some older ones had already started fading away, some newer ones permanent on his skin. There were small cuts and then there were the signs of his more serious injuries that still made your heart wrench when you look at it.

People always saw the glory and great deeds of being a hero but never how ugly it can get. One step, and you could end up with scars that stays for the rest of your life, reminding you of everything you had done right and everything that had gone wrong.

There were many small cuts littering all over his skin but it was the one on his forearm that caught your attention first, a thin straight line that could easily be overlooked as it blended into his pale skin through the years since he got it. It wasn’t as obvious or as ghastly as his other scars but you always find it to be more eye-catching than the rest.

When people ask about his scars, Hitoshi would always say that they were from fights against villains or results from accidents during training. But this one, this one you knew the true cause behind it.

You first asked about this tiny scar on the inside of his forearm when you just started going steady. You were lying on the couch on one of his rare day offs, enjoying each other’s company as you lazily traced circles on his arm that was snugged around your waist. He looked embarrassed when your finger stopped at the thin line which only prompted you to be more curious in it.

After a lot of nagging and pleading on your part, he finally gave in with a sigh and told you about how he got this scar back in his UA days. It was some time after he transferred to the hero course in his second year and he was patrolling with some pro-heroes he worked for when he heard a distant sob. Excusing himself from the rest of the team, he inspected the source of the cries and found a little girl crying under a tree. In between broken sniffles, the girl pointed to the top of the tree and as he looked up, he could faintly see the white fluff that was stuck in between branches. It was one of the many times when he had wished that he had a more practical quirk when it comes to hero work because there was nothing he could do to help the poor cat that was stuck on the tree with his.

But the girl was crying and there was no one else around. Quirk or not, how was he supposed to become a hero when he couldn’t even help a crying child?

Sometimes, being a hero did not take flashy powers or massive gestures and down-to-earth measures worked just as fine. It turns out that hard work did pay off as he climbed up the tree with more ease than he had expected, something he must thank his mentor for that his agility improved drastically since he started training. Before his foot even touched the ground, the kitten wrestled out of his hold and eagerly ran towards its owner. Hitoshi suppressed a reflective yelp as the feline’s sharp claws scratched past his forearm that was exposed because he had rolled up his sleeves for convenience.

That was the first scar he had gotten from doing anything close to heroic which if you ask him, really wasn’t much comparing to the other things he or his other classmates had done but he could never forget the bright small on the girl’s face as she hugged the cat, with joyful tears running down her cheek. It was the first time he had the realization that maybe, he could become that hero he wanted to be after all.

Your eyes travelled up from his arm towards his shoulder blade where you hesitated to look at. On there was what left of a direct stab with a knife, a soft bump that stood out as even paler than the rest of his body with a pointed side. This one, you did not need to hear about the origin from him, because you were there when he got stabbed.

In fact, it would not be an exaggeration to say that he got this one because of you.

Tension filled the air as the robber pointed his weapon at the kneeling people. No one dared to move as the robber commanded the bank’s staff to open the safe with the risk of sharp blades stabbing through their bodies if they did so little as flinch. It was only your luck that you happened to be in line at the bank when the villain marched into the building, demanding everyone to stay still with knives in his hand. You recognize the villain as one that recently escaped from another crime scene, notorious for his perfect aim and use of knives in his crimes.

In this age of unknown and powerful quirks after many generations since it first appeared, even regular criminals who wanted so much less than taking over mankind was a lot more dangerous than before. None of their tactics could be predicted and most security systems could be a loophole when faced with the right quirk.

Things escalated from there when the pro-heroes arrived. People idolized heroes, and probably for a good reason. The society relied on heroes to keep things in order and it would be safe to say that they were placed on a pedestal for more reasons other than the fact that they fought the fight for average citizens against harm.

Things would run smoothly as long as the people believed that the hero always won.

The villain was pressed onto the floor with his arms twisted behind his back as the heroes overpowered the criminal. The police arrived to take care of the rest of the work as the heroes helped those who were held hostage. You stood up, legs sore from kneeling down, letting out a sigh as the danger was finally lifted. What you didn’t see was that the villain, so filled with loathing and angered by sham, had forced himself out of the police officer’s grip and slung his dagger at whoever stood the closest to him.

If he had to go down, at least he would take someone with him.

You could not react as you heard the screams rang around you, freezing in fear as the sharp knife got closer and closer to you. It was like everything was in slow motion, and you almost felt the pain before it even hits.

But it never did land on you. When you opened your eyes that was shut in fear, you saw a tall figure blocking you from the hit. The dagger strike directly into his shoulder and even from behind, you could see the blood soaking through his sleeve. You did not need to feel it to know that it must have hurt a lot but even with that, the man turned around to you first as if he wasn’t just stabbed with a knife and asked, “Are you ok?”

You still haven’t come down from the shock but you did not need to be calm to see that if there was someone who should be asked that question, it was him, not you. You gingerly said as the red patch on his shoulder became more visible, “Yes, but you...”

“I’ll be fine.” he said with a forced smile, slightly unnatural and resembled a sneer more than a grin as he clutched his forearm in pain.

You could not get the hero who tried to smile even when he was in pain out of your head. Bothered by guilt that he got hurt because he was trying to shield you from the attack, you gingerly phoned the agency of the hero and asked if you could visit him in the hospital. You would never forget the look on his face when his co-worker told him that he had a visitor, the way he scratched the back of his neck with his good arm saying that it was part of his duty as you embarrassingly rambled on about how much you thanked him.

Even now, Hitoshi would sometimes brought it up just to tease you.

You knew how he got each and every one of his scars and you tended to everyone that he had gotten after he met you. You could not forget the way he told you that he was fine when he clearly wasn’t. He was so hell-bent on becoming a hero that he sometimes forget that there were times when he needed to be cared for too, and you took up that role with great love in your heart.

He could always trust you with the rare vulnerability he tried to hide from everyone else.

“I let him get away.”

You looked up from his chest to match his eyes as you gently apply the ointment onto the cut when you heard the words vibrating off his chest, his voice tired and hoarsed as he speak. “We almost got him, but he pulled out a cutter out of no where and I let him get away.”

Hitoshi’s eyes dropped and his lips pursed together into a thin line to form a frown. A lighting strike, casting a ghostly shadow on your boyfriend’s face as it slid past the sky. If it pained you to see him injured, then it was agony to hear his guilt ridden voice.

You sighed as you positioned the gauze on his wound, “You are hurt.”

"But still-”

“It’s not your fault, you know.” you reached your hand up to hold his chin, effectively stopping him from beating himself up as you gave him a gentle smile, “You need to stop talking and get some rest, it’s not good for recovery.”

The weight in your chest was lifted as he chuckled, “That makes no sense.”

“If course it does,” you huffed as you put everything back into the first aid kit, “I’m the one who patch up all your wounds so everything I say is valid.”

You grinned as he got up, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before going into the bedroom. “Thank you.”

The small gesture filled your stomach with warmth. Even with the rain pouring and the angry thunder yelling outside, you would never fail to feel safe and protected in the walls of your home, knowing that you were guarded by a hero you proudly called your own. One that was brave and worked hard for what he believed in, with the scars to prove it.

[lyssismagical]

paint me in trust, i’ll be your best friend

Febufluff Day 1 & 2 - Snuggles & Rainy Day {Parkner}

Read on AO3

*

Peter wakes to the sound of rain bouncing harmlessly off his window.

For a few moments of absolute solitude, that’s all he does. Watches the rain clinging to his window, racing their way to the bottom.

His breaths are even, no fear hanging onto his bones, no remnants of nightmares playing out before his eyes, no worries filling his head. Just simplicity and peace.

Harley’s arms tighten around his waist, maybe somehow knowing Peter had woken up, and slowly blinks his eyes open, gazing down at Peter with a squinted expression.

“You ‘kay?” he asks, voice rough from only just waking up. His arms are tight around Peter and his eyes only shine with concern, no nightmares on his end either.

Peter smiles up at his boyfriend, resting his head on Harley’s chest to continue looking out the window at the cloudy sky.

“Yeah, I’m good… Really good,” he murmurs against Harley’s warm skin. “Guess the weather means no Spider-Man?”

Harley squeezes him. “It’s comforting to know you’re aware I’d never let you out in weather like this.”

“A little rain never hurt anybody,” Peter says, but the acceptance is clear in his voice. He doesn’t really want to leave either.

It’s still early, sun barely peeking over the horizon through the clouds, but they don’t bother falling back to sleep. They’d gone to bed early the night before after a long week of hard working.

They’re both at MIT, their last year before they’ll be graduating and taking over Stark Industries full-time. Harley works as a mechanic, mostly odd hours, and Peter works at the library. Between their jobs, their classes, their homework, and Peter’s Spider-Manning, it’s been tough week after tough week after tough week.

It’s nice to just lay in bed, limbs entangled beneath a pile of soft blankets, and watch the rain fall outside their window.

Peter grabs Harley’s hand, one of the two wrapped around his waist, and presses a kiss to his knuckles.

“Love you,” he murmurs, blinking up at Harley who grins dopily down at him.

“Love you too, darlin’.”

Eventually, they do have to drag their way out of bed. It’s not possible, especially with Peter’s grumbling stomach, to stay tucked away from the world for all of Sunday.

Harley had laughed when Peter’s stomach wouldn’t stop making noises, pressing a gentle kiss to Peter’s forehead, before stretching to get up.

Harley makes the batter, falling for Peter’s puppy dog eyes when he asks for chocolate chips, and Peter’s the one who cooks them. It’s a simple system, but it means a lot to them. The first time they hung out, they made pancakes just like they are now. Pancakes are like a little tradition to them.

Harley wraps his arms around Peter from behind as the hero sleepily starts working on cooking the pancakes, pressing little kisses to Peter’s neck and shoulders.

“I should write that paper I’ve been procrastinating,” Peter says, leaning back into Harley’s warmth.

But Harley just rests his forehead against Peter’s shoulder and smiles. “Another time?”

Rolling his eyes, Peter tries his best to bite back a smile. “Yeah… Another time.”

As soon as the pancakes are finished, they curl back up on the couch together, tugging an old quilt over their legs and putting Jeopardy on the TV.

It’s another one of their little traditions to watch Jeopardy together. They have a little competition to see who can get more right answers, faster than the contestants. They almost always tie, but it’s still a fun game. If somebody loses, they’re the one who has to do the dishes that day.

“That’s not fair!” Harley exclaims when Peter gets an answer before him. “My mouth was full!”

Peter laughs, rolling his eyes. “That’s just how the game works, Keener. You snooze, you lose… Or, well, you chews, you lose.”

“That’s not even grammatically correct,” the older boy whines, grabbing a bite of Peter’s pancakes. “Therefore, you lose a point.”

“You lose a point for saying therefore unironically,” Peter says.

Instead of arguing, Harley just pushes a forkful of pancakes into Peter’s mouth and shouts out the answer of the next question.

“That’s cheating,” Peter pouts, swallowing the food. “It doesn’t count.”

Harley tries to hide his smile, but his eyes are so bright, so lively, that it’s hard not to notice. “Fine, you win, Parker. I’ll do the dishes later.”

He starts pulling away from Peter to start on the piles of dishes on their counter, from days upon days of saying they’ll do it and things getting in the way, but Peter grabs his wrist, pouting.

“Don’t go?” he says, sending his puppy dog eyes Harley’s way.

The older boy grins, flipping Peter’s hand over to press a kiss to his knuckles.

“We’ll regret it tomorrow if we continue to pile up our dishes,” Harley says, shaking his head. “Don’t you think we should get some work done while we have some time?”

Peter rolls his eyes, tugging the quilt up over his head. “Don’t you think we deserve some down time?”

Face softening, Harley sits down on the couch again, grabbing Peter’s ankle to run his thumb gently in little circles. They’re both tired, it’s been a long time since they’ve had a genuine day off from all responsibilities. It’s been a lot of working, especially for Peter who goes out as Spider-Man every chance he gets.

“I know you’re tired, darlin’, but don’t you think it’ll make you feel better if our apartment doesn’t look like it’s been hit by a hurricane?”

Peter pokes his head out from under the quilt, smiling dopily up at his boyfriend. “I will never stop loving hearing our apartment.”

“And don’t you want our apartment to be clean?”

“Says the guy who didn’t clean his room for months at a time,” Peter retorts, closing his eyes. “I’ll help you do the dishes if you promise we can just cuddle all afternoon.”

Harley, never one to say no to cuddles, smiles softly. “Yeah, honey, I promise.”

“You’re worse than Mister Stark is with pet names, you know that?”

*

Peter sits on the ground in front of Harley, rolling his eyes. “Only you could manage something like this.”

He’s got their first aid kit, constantly stocked thanks to Peter’s Spider-Manning, in his lap, propped open as he digs through it for what he needs.

“It’s not my fault!” Harley exclaims, holding the tissue tightly against his finger.

While washing the dishes, he may or not have sneezed and dropped a plate, cutting his finger.

It’s not a bad cut, but Peter didn’t hesitate before racing off to get their first aid kit.

Peter doesn’t respond, focused on cleaning it up, and then he wraps Harley’s finger in a bright pink Hello Kitty bandaid.

Peter presses a gentle kiss to the bandaid over Harley’s finger before looking up at his boyfriend, a light blush touching his cheeks. “All better.”

“Mm, I think I have another injury,” Harley says, grinning. He taps his bottom lip with his finger. “Can you kiss it better too?”  

Peter rolls his eyes, but leans up towards Harley. “You’re such a dumbass, you know that?”

He gives Harley a quick peck to the lips, but Harley’s quick to grab him by the back of the neck, and pull him in again.

Between kissing, Harley breathes, “I’m your dumbass, though.”

Peter grins so brightly, they have to stop kissing. He drops his forehead to Harley’s shoulder, hiding his smile against Harley’s skin.

“We’ve been together for five years, darlin’, and…”

“I just love hearing it,” Peter says. “You’re my dumbass, and I’m yours.”

Harley slides his hand up down, rubbing gentle circles into his shoulders, pressing kisses to Peter’s temple and the crown of his head. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

They stay there, wrapped in their own thoughts about the future. In less than a year, they’ll be running Stark Industries. They’ll be out of University, out of their little apartment in Massachusetts, and into the tower’s penthouse. Just them two now that Tony and Pepper live permanently with Morgan in their cabin.

Five years together.

Five whole years filled with snuggles and Jeopardy, pancakes and doing the dishes. Nights spent in medical together, hand in hand. Five years of being together, of feeling like they belong somewhere for the first time in a really long time.

Five of the best years of their lives.

Peter sniffles, for once the tears that fill his eyes are happy tears, and he presses a kiss to Harley’s shoulder.

“You okay?” Harley asks. “Sorry about breaking our plate, by the way, it was an accident, and I know the Hello Kitty bandaids were yours-”

Peter lifts his head, grinning at his boyfriend, even when a tear catches on his eyelashes, like the rain that continues to pour outside their cozy apartment.

“I just really fucking love you,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss Harley again.

Harley’s calloused hands are safe against his face, smile making the worry lines smoothen out and his eyes light up, washing away any and all insecurities.

“I really fuckin’ love you too, darlin’.” Harley catches Peter’s tear on his thumb, gently brushing it away. “But I think I promised you cuddles now that we’re done with the dishes.”

Peter smiles brighter, leaning his forehead against Harley’s, trying to control the wildfire of love that burns through his chest.

*

Peter wakes up cold.

He blinks his eyes open slowly to find the TV playing The Office on mute, characters moving animatedly without sound. Harley’s not beside him, the couch cold where he’d once been. Their quilt is carelessly discarded on the floor.

He heads to their bedroom, blinking blearily when he doesn’t find Harley anywhere in their apartment. He tugs a shirt on over his head, one of Harley’s that smells like motor oil and his cheap soap.

“Harley?” he calls out, turning in a circle. Their apartment is empty and quiet. And then, he realizes Harley’s shoes are missing from their place at the door.

He tugs on his own shoes, a pair of old sneakers, and grabs his keys.

He doesn’t have to go far, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Harley’s in the park across the street from their apartment, worn yellow shirt standing out brightly against the grey sky. His arms are lifted to the sky, wet hair sticking to his face.

“Babe?” he calls out, approaching his boyfriend slowly. “You okay?”

Harley turns to him, a grin plastered across his face as the rain pours around them. He takes the few steps he needs to reach Peter. One hand cups his cheek, and the other wraps around Peter’s waist, almost lifting his off the ground as he presses their mouths together, rain falling heavily over them.

Peter pulls away first, squinting up at his boyfriend, he’s laughing and it makes Peter smile too. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I just really fuckin’ love life, right now,” Harley says, eyes sparkling. They’re soaking wet and cold, standing out in the rain, in the dim evening light, and Harley looks like it’s the best day of his life. “I love you and I love our apartment and I love getting to wake up next to you every morning.”

Peter kisses Harley again, he can’t help it. “And you couldn’t tell me this in our warm apartment?”

“I’ve never had anything permanent before, until you came along. And I just- I guess I just realized that this, us, it’s forever, you know? And I just love that. I love you.”

“Are we in a Hallmark movie now?” Peter asks. Kissing in the rain, professing their love. “I love you too, babe. You’re such a dumbass, though. You didn’t need to come all the way out here to say that to me.”

“I’m your dumbass,” Harley breathes again. He’s still grinning like he can’t help it. “And you’re the love of my life.”

Peter shakes his head, kissing Harley again. “You’ve lost your mind, Keener.”

“One day, I’m going to be a Parker,” Harley says, smiling against Peter’s mouth. “One day, I’ll be a Parker and- and we’ll get married and we’ll have one of those sappy little weddings where Tony will cry. And we’ll- we’ll run Stark Industries together and live in Manhattan together. And we’ll- we’ll- I don’t know, adopt a bunch of lost kids like we were, because you’re such a good person. And I’ll get to wake up next to you every day and tell you I love you.”

Peter’s expression softens, catching the tears that fall from Harley’s eyes, even as they mix with the rain water. “You promise?”

“Fuck, darlin’, I promise. I love you, whatever happens, sweetheart, I love you.”

“I love you too. Always, babe, I’ll always love you.”

[shaydeoffical]

Bright as a Diamond. Shinso Hitoshi x Fem Reader: Chapter Nine

Chapter Summary: Shota takes (Y/n) and Shinso to the USJ to get some specialized hostage training done. But things rarely go to plan, and (Y/n) gets to play the role of the victim to her dismay. But there is one thing she knows for sure, she’s not a tease. 

Series Summary: When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Author Note: Me updating two days in a row? Unheard of lol. Also this chapter is 5K, so enjoy the fest. I tried to make this some more wholesome, but also...I like to keep some action going. 

Warning: Near drowning, avalanche, flashbacks    

Last Chapter: Eight

Next Chapter:Nine

Hostage Training 

It had been a few weeks since my run-in with Kira, and Hisoka's accident. Despite looking for the animal that hurt Hisoka, we found nothing. Just like the police still hadn't found Kira. It was unsettling but manageable.

   I was sitting on the porch waiting for Shota to pick me and Shinso up for training. Hisoka was cuddled in my lap, lazily pawing at my exposed thighs. Per Shota's request, I was to wear my paired down training uniform and lose all the camo elements.

   Still, I wasn't a big fan of showing off my body. Lately, I hadn't been so hard on myself about it, after nearly being kidnapped, I was thankful that my body was still my own. Grateful that Hisoka enjoyed my soft thighs and stomach. Thankful that I was able to even move and fight.

   Mom would be happy that I wasn't skipping meals or hiding in my room all day. I should really try calling her, I just don't know what I'd begin to tell her. Maybe about Shinso?

   "Why so contemplative Kitten? Trying to remember how to tie your shoes?" Shinso kneeled and did up my laces, double knotting the bow.

   "No," I puffed my cheeks and pouted when Hisoka ran off to the koi pond. "I was just thinking about my mom is all."

   "What about her?" Shinso sat beside me, leaning back on his forearms.

   "She moved to a care facility around the same time I moved here. Her quirk lets her make burning coals, and for some reason, it's started activating inside her without warning. She lost one of her lungs not too long ago because of it. So she's partaking in a special quirk related illness program." I stopped myself. "That was maybe too personal. Sorry, I just need to call her at some point, that's what I was thinking about."

   "Your mom is the Ash hero?" Shinso raised his brow.

   "Um, yea. She was the ash hero, but she doesn't really like to bear the title anymore." I twiddled my thumbs, kicking my legs out to distract myself.

   "She was pretty big in the underground. She rescued the same civilian twenty-seven times. It's a record."

   "That was my dad." I laughed. "Mom said she married him just so she could find the spare time to breathe. They ran into each other so often, they just couldn't help but fall in love."

   "I didn't know that. Your quirk makes sense, though, the coal mixed with the ability to make gemstones." Shinso hummed, sitting up to match my pose.

   "Yea. I managed to hide my gem quirk till I was a teen, then- then things happened." I pushed my hair in front of my face.

   Shoved in the back of a van. Gunshots. Taking a curve so fast, I bust my head open against the trunk.

   I gripped the back of my head, a small bump remained. "You spaced out again."

   "Hmm," I glanced at Hitoshi, his gaze focused on my hand.

   "I said you spaced out again. You do that during training a lot. I don't want to push it, but you want to tell me why?" He slid his fingers over my scalp, tracing the outline of the bump.

   My fingernails became the most exciting thing in my world. The way they were chewed to the quick, the cracked polish and rough cuticles poking through. "I was kidnapped a couple of times, actually. It turns out that the same people who liked to take my dad thought I would have his quirk too." I forced a laugh, pushing my cuticle down. "Of course I played dumb right up till they threatened to kill my best friend. It was like tv you know, they showed her on a camera and one of their goonies walking right behind her. Needless to say, I got so stressed sapphires started to sprout from my eyes."

   "I'm sorry," Hitoshi scooted closer to me, his arm resting aginst mine.

   "Don't worry about it, Lint ball. That was the easy time around. Besides, my mom saved me that time, and the group was so keen on keeping me a secret they didn't tell anyone. Plus, I never made them diamonds." I sat up and popped my fingers. "Looks like Sho is here, let's go. I'm going to wipe the floor with you today."

   "Thank you for telling me that." Shinso stood, and I suddenly realized how much taller than me he was. His hand rested on my shoulder with a firm squeeze.

   "Yea, like I said, it's not a big deal." I held my hips and smiled the best I could. My eyes stung, but I couldn't let anyone know.

   "Let's go Kitty." He nodded for me to follow him to the car, and I did without fuss. Shinso was a strange man, but he was really decent under all the dry humor and teasing. I could try playing along for now.

   "This place is huge." I gawked at the many different disaster simulation zones inside the vast building. The USJ was a top-notch training facility, and Shota had pulled his strings at the school to let us practice inside today.  

   "Listen closely." Shota walked to the edge of the stairs, turning to face Shinso and I. "Shinso, we're going to be working on search and rescue today. (Y/n), we are going to be working on hostage behavior. Since you are still healing, we'll be focusing on finding the best places to hide and knowing when to run."

   "So, I'm learning how to be a useful victim?" I cocked my head to the side and blinked a few times.

   "Basically." Shota sighed, looking out at all the different zones.

   "This feels kinda sexist for some reason…" I mumbled. "Why can't I rescue Shinso or you?"

   "That will be for another time. Just focus on how you can survive until help arrives today." I knew what Shota wanted from me, I knew it was a good plan, and I knew it was beneficial. But did it have to be a kidnapping scenario? After I confess part of my past to Shinso, now he's just going to be looking for me to zone out. Well, I'm going to rock this challenge.

   "We'll start off with the desert." Shota leads the way. We passed several other biomes and just how vast the building was amazed me. Shinso smirked, nudging me so I'd keep up. I pushed him right back and passed him to walk by Shota.  

   At the desert biome, I got to go out into the sandy hell first. It made sense why I was told to lose the camo part of my outfit now. Shinso needed to be able to see me to "rescue" me. Shota was right behind me as I climbed up the hill. The humid air already doing things to my hair.

   "If you turn your feet when you walk, it will be easier," he instructed, quickly walking through the grit.

   "I'll try," I did as told and didn't slip as much in the sand. "How do I keep the sun from burning me out?"

   "You need to wrap your head in a cloth, and possibly wet it with urine." Shota didn't sound like he was joking. Pausing my climb, I wait for him to say sike still.

   "Noted, don't get caught in a desert." Shrugging my shoulders, I kept walking. Once at the top, I slipped on the dune and skidded down the other side. Rolling fast, hot sand filled my shorts, lighting my skin on fire. I stopped myself at the bottom and spat up the grains in my mouths. Ugh. Jumping to my feet, I bounced around till my shorts were empty.

   "What would you do if that happened with a real villain?" Shota asked me, gliding down the slope. Not once jerking to regain balance.

   "Run for my life?" I offered, sitting up and dusting myself down. Licking my lips, I laid back on the ground, resting my eyes in his shadow.

   "That would be wise." Shota nodded, an underlining message with his words.

   "You want me to run? But you're teaching me stuff?" I cocked my head but got to my feet once I saw him frown.

   "At some point, I want you to run and hide. Give Shinso a real challenge in search and rescue. I can't tell you much about our current case, but if you can really give him a hard time, that would be for the best." He paused to give it some thought. "Really think about how a hostage would act in each scenario. How the elements affect what you're willing to do."

   "Is this how you prompt him?" I asked, going deeper into the desert. While I lost my chance to bolt, I wanted to keep talking. This was not my biome to start getting active.

   "Yes," Shota took my hand and pulled me up the incline. He grinned, tapping my forehead before shoving me down another hill. "Just have fun with it."

   "Wha-"I squealed rolling like a soup can, but with more momentum. Sand-filled my shorts again, but it got past my undies too. After I stopped and got my bearings, I looked at the hilltop, Shota had a captured weapon around his hand. So Shinso had caught us super-fast.

   Trekking back up the slope to help, I resisted the urge to sneak to the exit. I knew I was supposed to give Shinso a hard time, but this wasn't the biome that I wanted to use all my energy in. It was hot and draining; if I was a hostage, I'd be sticking it out with the villain.

   "Oh, Mr. Hero, save me!" I put on my best American accent and waved at Shinso. Having fun, pretending to have been poisoned by the sun. Which wasn't hard to imagine at that point.

   "Hold on-"Shinso tried to offer a comforting phrase, but was distracted long enough to let his guard down. Their fight went on for a while until finally Shinso got Shota down and tied in his scarf.

   "My hero, you are so brave." I pretended to stumble into his arms and whack his chest. "I've been in the sun for three days. I can't remember my own name, surely you can help me find it."

   "How will you handle this, Shinso?" Shota asked, not fighting against his ties. "What should you do with a delirious victim?"

   "Delirium, that's my favorite drink. We should get drinks at some point." I don't know what it was about the accent that made me a flirt, but I was clinging all over Shinso, gripping his arms and making him blush. "Such a strong young man. Oh, how much do you train?"

   "Don't worry, ma' ma, I'm going to get you some help." Shinso grabbed his scarf and my hand, dragging Shota and me behind him.

   I looked at Shota with an evil grin and asked permission to make it even harder. Shota nodded no, and I held back my scheme of accidentally letting him loose. I could try again in the next biome.

   It was the blizzard zone, and of course, I didn't have a jacket with me. Shota offered the bullshit answer that I needed to figure something out if this was real. I knew what he was inferring, but I didn't like it.

   Goosebumps broke out over my arms as we took the ski lift to the top of the mountain. I held myself and followed behind him, using my coal quirk to heat myself. Shota turned and deactivated my power.

   "As my captive, I'm not going to let you waste your energy on coals when I want diamonds." He reminded. "What is your best move?"

   "Follow instructions till I see an opening." My teeth chattered, the snow wetting my socks as I trudged through. "Why did we go from a dessert to a blizzard. We're all going to get sick." I slid down a small section of the hill and grabbed a pine for support. Now I noticed the snow that had piled on top of the branch.

   "I can't move," I pretended to tug on my foot, gritting my teeth.

   "Come on, don't slow me down," Sho was onto my rouse, but I knew I could convince him.

   "Then leave me to die and let my power go to waste asshole." I spat, making small grunts while pulling the large branch down further.

   "Fine, come here, brat." He smirked, once in range, I let the limb go and sprinted down the hill. "Wait, get back here!" Sho yelled, covered in snow.

  Saving my breath, I activated my quirk to create coals. The only place I could make coals was my hands, but that was more than enough heat to keep me warm if I was smart.

   I spotted a small cave and did a few laps around it to cover my tracks. Jumping into the small hole, I slide on the icy bottom finally out of the wind. Wasting no time, I made a pile of coals and started to heat the cavern. This time I was doing really good; maybe I could even save myself in this scenario.

   To be fair, I wasn't in the snow very long, but my socks were soaking wet. Now I was heating up, all the snow was melting and putting me at risk for hypothermia. Sighing, I took my shoes off and lowered the intensity of the coals. Shinso would hopefully capture Sho and be here to 'rescue' me soon.

   How could I make it harder for Lint ball? Hiding was already a challenge, but what else… Maybe fake a broke arm or ankle. Well, I wouldn't want him to carry my big ass off a mountain, that wouldn't be fair. The snow crunched outside. I held my breath and waited.

   "There you are." Purple hair and a faint smirk greeted me, his head poking in the hole.

   "Who are you?" I scooted away from Shinso, picking up coal to 'toss at him.'

   "I'm a hero. You need to come with me." He fumbled for his next words. "It's going to be okay."

   "That's what the last guy said….how do I know you're a hero. You're not on tv." I reasoned, making another coal, and getting in a defensive position.

   "Here's my hero id." He pretended to pull out a badge, and I exclaimed it. "We need to hurry before the villain wakes up."

   "Hey, don't rush me, I've just had the worst day of my life." I reminded him. "Besides I can't go, my shoes are wet and I-"

   "Come on," Shinso grabbed my hand and pulled me out, putting my shoes on. "It's a small hike to the bottom of the mountain. I can carry you, but we need to hurry."

   "I can walk just fine-"I puffed, turning my back to him. His coat was draped around my shoulder, and he tied the sleeves around my neck. "Hitoshi-"

   "We need to move." He used my confusion to his advantage and had me on my feet. He crouched and wedged his hips between mine, quickly catching me off guard.

   Latching my arms around his neck, he adjusted me once and started running. It was dumb to go sprinting downhill with a victim on your back, but I trusted his reasoning.  

   "Why do we have to hurry?" I asked, wondering how cold he must be getting.

   "There's a chance there might be an avalanche." He was panting, the strain of my blubbery body, and the cold stressing his lungs. The fast pace and quick moments made my head spin. My every muscle was stressed, trying to help him keep a good grip.

   A scarf wrapped around my upper body, jerking me into the powdery snow. Shota held the other end and reeled me towards him. Kicking with all my power, I tried to get free. Shinso nose dived but was getting his baring again. "Hero, you forgot to make sure I was bond down." Shota grinned, tugging me back up the mountain. Changing my tactic, I dug my heels into the earth.

   "Don't worry (Y/n), I'll save you." Shinso charged up the hill, ready to take on Sho. Only the mountain top rumbled. In the middle of the two men, I was about to be fucked up alone. I prepared to be at the mercy of the tumbling snow, praying that I didn't crush Sho or Shinso.

   "You failed to keep her safe once, are you going to fail again, hero?" Shota was around four meters from me at this point. The snow working in my sandy shorts. The mountain still rumbling with a panicked fury.

   "Run." I yipped, the snow moving like a wave overhead. Shota seemed startled, as well. Shinso ran up the hill at full speed. The wave already got Sho, but Shinso grabbed me just in time. He undid the binds, cradling me as the snow hit us.

   I didn't know what came over me, but I created a swirling ruby, wrapping it around our bodies like a cage. The snow was able to get through the large cracks, but it kept us from hitting any trees. My stomach did flips, as my world was put through the rinse cycle.

   Shinso had my head pressed in his chest, so I couldn't see if my ruby was breaking or not. All I could do was feel my essence in the gem, and keep pouring energy into fixing any impurities. Waiting for the avalanche to stop, I prayed. This was a simulation, but I knew it was not a joke.

   Shinso squeezed tighter, snow impacting us from all sides. It would be hard to know which way was up or down. Still, we finally slowed down then stopped, the snow kept settling and getting heavier around us. "You okay, Hitoshi?" I mumbled, spitting out the ice. My legs were so numb from my shorts, I had to reach down to make sure I wasn't bleeding; it was so cold.  

   "Are you hurt anywhere?" he ignored my question, using one hand to dig up some headspace. I expanded the ruby, a headache coming on from the large gemstone.

   "Peachy, now which way is up?" I rested my chin on his collar, taking shallow breaths. While training was making me stronger, I didn't have a lot of stamina built up. Even if I wasn't hurt, my body was stressed.

   "This way, I think." He held up a twig and dropped it to test the gravity. With each breath, I brought my life into my palms. With two large coals, I turned up the heat, melting a path. Unfortunately, I had to straddle Shinso, but he was being a good hero and not teasing me.

   I wavered for a moment and crashed back into our little cave. There was plenty of space, but the bottom was still tight. Shinso propped me up and pressed his hand to my forehead. "I'm fine, just worn out…here. Can you dig for a minute."

   "Yea, I got it." He took the coals and used his scarf to wrap his hands before working on the exit.

   With the cold air swirling in my lungs, I took deep breaths. Lifting my palms together, I pushed out even more coals. With the fresh supply, Shinso was able to break out faster. Without his coat, I could admire his toned arms digging through the packed snow.

  Tugging me out of the hole, Shinso adjusted his jacket around my shoulders. "We need to find Mr. Aizawa." He pushed my hair back. "Just stay here, and look for signs of movement." he started looking around where we landed, and a hand popped up in the distance. "Mr. Aizawa." Shinso jogged to his mentor. Finding it in myself, I hobbled over. "You okay?" Shinso asked Sho, checking him over.

   "Yea, I see you two made it out. That's some good work." Shota dusted the snow out of his hair. "Let's get ready for the next one."

   "Wait I'm killed, can't we take a break?" I asked, seeing the exit was just a short walk away.

   "We will, after this next one." Shota opened the door, and we both filed out.    

   I shrugged off Shinso's jacket and handed it to him. "You did a fairly good job at keeping the hostage calm this time. Though maybe lie about the avalanche in real life."

   "Noted." He nodded, and when I followed after Shota, I swore his eyes scanned me up and down. I told him I was okay.

   Still, Shota did let us use the body regulator before hopping into our next scenario. UA was really a top-notch school, I couldn't imagine how much money they floating around to pay for such high tech items.  

"This time, we'll do the shipwreck situation. Shinso, give us three minutes and then come in; however, you see fit." Shota used a small boat to take us to the bigger one in the center of the pool. All I had to do was watch him row, and be a good hostage. It was honestly surprising that none of the training had triggered me yet. Shota was right, I was having fun with it…like I was above the reality.

   Once on top of the deck, he tied me with his scarf till I couldn't move my upper body. "How did I do, Sho?"

   "That's what I want from you. Make it different each time, give him a real challenge. But remember to save energy for the next." Shota looked over the side of the boat. "I enjoyed your little ditzy act."

   "Thanks, I don't know why that accent made me take on a campy flirty character, but it was kind of fun."

   "Here, he comes." Shota got into position and watched as Shinso decided to go headfirst into the fight.

   When he got on deck, he was soaking wet, his hair still fighting off gravity. "Help help help, he's got a bomb on the ship!" I yelped like a child, wriggling against my ropes. "Mister, do something."

   "I got this, don't worry," Shinso was in hand to hand combat with Shota. I noticed he was trying to get him to speak, but Shota wasn't going to fall for his quirk.

   "Watch out!" I screamed, seeing that Shinso was dangerously close to the edge. Of course, he knew what he was doing, but I was challenging a scared kid.

   What would a kid do if they thought a hero needed help? I stood up and ran full force to try to knock over Shota.    

   "Stay back-"Shinso warned, but I kept going, surprising even Shota. Still, Shota dodged and caught me before I could fall from the edge. He tossed me back the way I had come, but instead, I tumbled backward on my feet.

   My ass hit the lip of the guard rail, and I dropped back. Headfirst, I crashed into the water below. Sucked down by my own weight,I kicked till my legs were underneath me. I was twelve feet deep at a guess. At least I had a good breath before going under, but I didn't know how long I'd have to wait. Well, a kid would try to swim up top, but my kicking isn't getting me anywhere.

   Shota would see this as a great training experience. I hoped he knew I was moving at a turtles pace. Changing my tactics, I wiggled like a mermaid with more success, but it wasn't enough. Maybe I was deeper than twelve feet. Why didn't they look over the side, this is just a training.The tension in my throat was building … I wasn't drowning. There was no way that I was drowning. I stayed calm and kicked again to no avail. Seconds ticked by, then a full minute.

Desperately willing my body to the surface, I gasped, the air in my mouth floating above me. Did they not remember I was tied up still? Shit. They are going to wait for the last minute on this, or they just think I can float. Another bubble escaped last my lips. The burning spread down my throat and to my legs. I kicked slower but with broader motions, closer to the top but still too far. Then I put my legs together and did another mermaid kick.

   Nothing. It wasn't working fast enough. Another bubble left my lips, and I took water in. The next gulp was deeper. The burning urge to cough and breath. I swam harder, trying to make the distance—finally, a splash.

   Hitoshi's body was several meters from mine, but we locked eyes quickly. He made frantic motions and grasped my binding once it was in reach. I coughed, taking in yet another mouth full of water, and then another and another till my lungs were almost nothing but water. He clamped his hand over my mouth, swimming up.

   Another gulp in, my vision was blurring, my muscles felt like they were ripping. Hitoshi pushed me up with all his might, and I broke the surface. A nasty gasping, retching, gurgle left me. I needed to retch, breath, and cough all at once. I bobbed under again, but Hitoshi got me in his arms, floating on his chest. He undid the scarf and started to paddle to a piece of the wreckage.  

   Hacking, spitting, and crying wasn't a good look on me, but I was finally calming down once we reached the floating mass. My arm held firmly on his neck.

   "I'm sorry that it took too long." He rubbed circles on my back, turning me on my side so I could expel the water. "I finally got him to answer me, though. Then I lost sight of where you landed, and I figured you could swim."

   I grappled with pulling myself up, then rinsed off my face. Still trying to catch my breath. "Thank you- for saving me. For the record, I can swim, but not like that. I knew you would help me, I just couldn't hold my breath any longer. I stayed calm, but a stranger would probably have flipped out." I flopped back against the wood and coughed up a little more water. "Well, I'm safe now. You should go make sure the villain is tied up."

   "He's preoccupied at the moment." Shinso glanced up and then back at me. "Where are you hurting?"

   "Well, my body slammed the water, so everything tingles. The good thing is the captured weapon must have reinforced my chest. So no broken ribs that I can feel. Though, I don't think I'll be able to donate mom a lung anytime soon. Not that we're the same blood type, but you get my point." I wheezed, rolling over onto my side, and taking a look at my torso… my bra was very obviously visible under my shirt. Covering my chest, I turned.

   "I'm not looking." Shinso countered, treading the water.

   "Then why do you know what I'm concerned about, hmm?" Glaring back at him, I pursed my lips.

   "I didn't think you'd be a pink person." His face went red, he head hanging low.

   "Then it's too late. Damn it." I shivered, a cold breeze from the blizzard biome drifting by. "Come on, hero, I wanna go home." I slid into the water, still holding to the wreckage. "Lead the way."

   "Hold onto my back." He twirled, patting his shoulder.

   "I can swim still." I raised my brow, still covering my chest. Of course, this was all just a drill, but I didn't like touching him so much.

   "I need the practice; come on, Kitten." When he didn't move, I rested one hand on his back and took a deep breath. I assumed he'd bob under or realize that I was too heavy and awkward to swim with like that. But I was able to effortlessly hoover over his back. He used my floatation to our advantage and took long strokes towards the pool's edge. Of course, he was good at everything, that's how he got so smug. Working smarter and not harder, I couldn't blame him.

   "You really are stronger then you look," I complimented, resting my head on his back. "Don't let it get to your head."

   "Is that because you cooped a feel earlier?" He glanced back at me with a smirk.  

   "No, that wasn't me. That was an American socialite that had been kidnapped. Besides, I realized you were strong long before then. I just thought I'd remind you of how weak you look versus how strong you really are."

   "So a backhanded compliment." He slowed his pace.

   "Of course," I answered, biting my lower lip. "It wouldn't have to be so backhanded if you weren't such a tease."

   "I'm the tease?" He reached the edge of the ship and twirled so we were facing each other. He pulled me flush against his chest. "Since when do I tease you?"

   "Nearly every second we're together." I sulked, looking at the ship in the distance. "Like right now."

   "Besides now, when have I been a tease?" His breath tickled my throat, his hair blocking my line of sight.

   "Like when you make fun of me for going red. Or when I ran into a spider. How about when I forgot to turn the rice cooker on." I listed a few, feeling the heat work up my neck…no I wasn't going to turn red now.

   "Don't I kill the spiders? Turn on the rice cooker. And make sure you're not getting sick?" His lips were inches from mine, the heat radiating. Water dripping from his hair onto my forehead.

   "You do," I admitted. "But-" He bit lip his bottom lip.

   "Do you want me to stop?" There were only millimeters between us. The thumping inside my ears clouded out my panting. Sweat pooled down the side of my chin. Fuck. I needed to focus on anything but his lips.

 "No-." His hands gripping on either side of my waist. The smirk he always wore softening to a tender smile.    

"We're going to the swell zone next!" We broke apart as Shota yelled from the top of the boat, dropping a rope between us.

   "Shota, I need a rest," I hollered back, my entire body equivalent to jell-o. Treading water on my own, making it more apparent.  

   "One more." Shota climbed down the side of the ship and back into the little boat.

   "I'll make it fast this time. How about that?" Shinso winked, offering me his hand, and I splashed him.

   "Yea, I'd like to see you find me in under two minutes." I got out of the water and offered him my hand instead, which he took without hesitation.

   "You got a deal," he shook my hand and caught a towel that Shota tossed his way. I grabbed my own towel and cocooned inside it. Shinso had entered my personal space; he made my heart race and got inside my head…He really was such a tease.

   The rest of the training had been to plan. I no longer played the reckless child, and instead settled for a tired businesswoman. True to his word, Shinso found us in under two minutes, but he struggled to use his capture weapon in the windy zone.    

   Once that was done, we hit the showers at the gym, then loaded the car and headed home. Shota went over our strengths and weakness and made a remark that I should be paid to be a crisis actor. It wasn't a bad idea, the preliminary hero license was coming up, and I could use the cash since my jewelry gig was up.

   "I could look into it," I mused, kicking my legs out in the back seat. Thankfully there had been a few old sets of school uniforms in the gym, so I was wearing a comfy jumpsuit home. "I gotta keep my payments up for school, and after the whole fake jewelry shop incident, I don't think I'm ready to face that industry for a while." I twirled the gem around my throat and chewed my lip.

   "We should look into less dangerous lines of work first," Shota nodded, "it would be best for you to lay low till Kira is caught, but if you want to rush things, we can ask the school."  

   "I think I will start applying around, what the worst that can happen?" My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I saw a message from an unknown number. It never failed; every day at three, I'd get a cryptic message with a blurry picture.

   I knew there was nothing I could do to prove it was or wasn't Kira to the police, but it was unsettling.

   Shinso was watching me in the rearview mirror. As soon as we locked eyes, I turned my phone off and closed my eyes. Today it was a picture of a pomegranate and the letter C. There was no way I was going to change my number again over this. It would be the third time in three months, and that just makes life that much harder.

[recipe-for-monsters]

🌺 for Rudy!

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

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When Donner awakens, it’s with a start.

It’s a strange way for him to wake up and a disorienting one at that. Usually, he wakes up slowly and unwillingly, huddling up under blankets and shutting his eyes as tightly as he can manage to try and stave off the coming of morning. Even now, as a full-fledged bull, his mom still sometimes teases him for being such a sleepyhead.

But he’s awake now in the dead of night because something is off. Something is amiss. There’s an anxious feeling churning in his belly, the kind that often told him that wolves were prowling about too close for comfort or that a golden eagle had spotted him from above the clouds and was primed to swoop down on him.

The feeling doesn’t make much sense. He and Rudy are both snug within a stable and while it wasn’t the nicest of lodgings around, they still had fresh hay bedding and plenty of wall hooks to hang up their bags and harnesses and even a little desk to put their things on. They’re warm. They’re safe. There’s nothing to be so worried about.

He worries anyways because his self-reassurances aren’t as comforting as they usually are. It’s dark in here. Too dark to see much of anything. The candle must have gone out. Yeah, that must be what’s causing the nervous feeling. Light was important for keeping predators away after all, even if none were to be found within a stable.

He shifts and unfolds his legs, stretching them out carefully until his hooves clack on the wooden flooring and he can stand without stepping on his little brother by accident. Pressing a hand to the wall, he follows the paneling with trailing fingers, bumping into their hanging saddlebags and knocking a fetlock into the edge of the desk with a sharp clatter and a stifling of curse words. Blindly, he feels for the candle only to find it rolled halfway across the desk after being jostled from its holder. Back into the jar it goes and a matchbox comes out of a pocket sewed into the lining of his sweater.

Donner does feel a bit better once the match is struck and the candle lit. The flame is tiny, but its gentle flickering along with the soft shadows thrown onto the walls are familiar and comforting. It makes him think of home. How long has it been since he’s been home? Since he’s seen his mom and dad? Too long he figures given the sudden homesickness blooming in his chest. Once this delivery is over and done with, maybe they’ll head back towards Knot Hill. Long Night was coming up and there was nowhere else in the world Donner would rather celebrate it than his hometown.

How far are they from home anyways? He plucks his saddlebags from the wall, rummaging through them until he finds his map and spreads it across the desk next to the candle. Everpines is their destination and it would take at least another day or two to reach. About three weeks and some change travel from Everpines to Knot Hill if his calculations are correct and the paths aren’t blocked, and that could be shortened to two weeks if the shortcut through the Singing Spires is clear, but taking that path would involve rock hopping. Risky for an adult and even riskier for a calf. He taps a finger on the paper in thought and looks over at Rudy.

The calf is curled up on his side, half-buried in hay, and Donner snorts at the sight. Of course he fell over. Rudy always fell over in his sleep unless propped against a rock or a sturdy tree or his brother’s flank. Training him to sleep properly, sitting up with his hooves tucked in for the warmth, had been a fool’s errand so far. He was sure to grow up into a leaning sleeper whether Donner liked it or not.

But that fact wasn’t about to stop him from trying to teach Rudy well, no sir. He was a good big brother and as such, he was going to at least get him to sleep on his front. That way, his hooves would be warm.

Abandoning the map and his plans, Donner trots the short distance to his brother and kneels down beside him with a grunt. He lays a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.

“Rudyyy… Hey, Rudy!”

A grunt. A muffled whine as the young bull curls up further.

Donner chuckles. They definitely were brothers, regardless of their separate bloodlines. “C’mon now. You gotta sleep right, remember?” He moves to get his arms more under Rudy, ready to lift him if need be. “Let’s get you up…”

He’s startled when Rudy suddenly rolls over, the bell clipped to his scarf ringing out in the silence, and  clutches at his sweater and buries his face against his elder brother’s stomach. That displaced, nervous feeling takes root again and Donner quickly responds in kind, pulling the calf into a tight hug and gently shushing him as he quakes in his arms and hiccups back tears.

Donner internally berates himself a little for having forgotten. They’ve been so busy working and traveling and playing together that he’d forgotten how difficult the nights could be for Rudy. How his brother would sometimes wake up crying and calling out for his lost mama and papa. How he would, on rare occasions, get up, half-awake and panicking, and bolt outside to look for them and Donner would have to chase him down and bundle him up in the heaviest blanket he had on hand and gently coax him back inside with promises of hot cocoa and maple candy treats.

Rudy can’t get away from him like that again, especially not here. Not in this tiny town that barely had a name, surrounded by a lush, shade-soaked forest. Rudy might get lost. They might not be able to find each other again. His ears flatten against his head and he clings to his little brother tighter, huddling around him as though his bulk could shield them from the bad dreams and the bad thoughts.

“Hey now, it’s okay. I’m not mad. We just gotta get you sleeping proper.” It doesn’t matter that what he’s saying has nothing to do with what Rudy is feeling, he just needs to say something so his brother can focus on it. Can focus on him and not on his grief. “But not tonight. We’ll try again tomorrow, okay?”

It takes a moment, but Rudy nods and gives a quivering, stuttering hum of acknowledgement. The embrace is broken slowly, reluctantly, and only after Donner gives his brother a few hearty pats on the back. Rudy looks a mess of course, all red-eyed and ruddy-faced and still breathing a little funny. He pulls at his scarf, using the cloth to wipe away the tears and the snot, and Donner grimaces and decides that they’re going to have to make a stop to do some laundry tomorrow. They had to follow the river to Everpines anyways.

“You hungry? Thirsty? You gotta be thirsty after getting all that out of your system. Here,” he grabs Rudy’s rucksack, digging around its contents and finding the waterskin buried at the bottom. Pulling it free causes a bone recorder and a few small books to come tumbling out as well. He passes the waterskin to Rudy. “Take a few big gulps. We’re gonna get fresh water in the morning.”

Rudy is a good boy and does as he’s told, drinking deeply as his brother stuffs his things back into the rucksack rather gracelessly and leaving the bag bulging in places. Taking hold of the last dropped book gives him pause. It’s an older title that Rudy picked up from an antique store awhile back and barely put down since. The cover was a faded burgundy and the binding was starting to come loose in places from it having been read and re-read so many times over. “The Little Prince of Rainbows” was written across the front in chipped gold lettering.

He looks over at his brother. “Hey, how about we read for a bit? I don’t think I’m tired enough for sleeping yet.”

Rudy’s ears perk up. “Ca-c-can we? It’s ok-okay?”

“Course! Of course! Put’cherself right here,” He gives his broad side an inviting pat, “I’ll even do voices. Let’s just see if I can find where you left off…”

It’s a little difficult to make out the words and the page numbers with just the light of the candle, but he can make do. Once Rudy is settled and leaning rather heavily against his side with his cheek pillowed on all the fur and fluff, Donner begins to read aloud, grateful that they’re the only patrons of the stable this evening so he won’t be bothering anyone.

The tale is a simple one, full to brimming with tropes and clichés, but Rudy likes this story given how often Donner saw him reading it. Farm boy. Call to adventure. Powerful magic and ancient weapons. New friends joining along the way. Witty, if predictable banter. Thrilling clashes between good and evil. A sappy ending. The whole nine yards.

He uses his own voice for the narration and for the main character, even if it’s too deep for someone so young. He puts on what he thinks is a hilarious falsetto for the rough-around-the-edges witch-in-training that accompanies the hero. He stumbles over a few odd words he doesn’t recognize in the gravelly-toned monologues of the villain, wishing momentarily that his mother were here to explain their meanings. He keeps reading even as Rudy stops shifting around so much and his breathing evens out and deepens because it’s a good story. The kind of story his dad would make up whenever he returned from a long delivery and Donner begged and pleaded to know every last detail of his trip.

He makes the promise to himself then to take Rudy to Knot Hill after this job is completed. Give him some time with a mom and dad that were sure to dote on him just as they had doted on their own son. Surely that would soothe a bit of the pain and the grief. Surely he would be happy to be a part of a loving family again.

Donner reads until the sun is just beginning to peak through the slats of the window blinds and he’s almost reached the end of the book, big plans brewing in his mind all the while.

They’re going home soon. All he asks is that Rudy wait just a little longer.

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Fin.

(This was supposed to be about Rudy, but I ended up writing it from Donner’s perspective. Rudy relies a lot on his elder brother to comfort and calm him and he keeps his signature scarf on him at nearly all times as it was a gift from his late mother ;w; )