#seven years is a long time to finally stop straightening your hair
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bumblingbabooshka · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Ship Dynamics for the best canon Voyager ship: Tuvok/T’Pel
17 notes · View notes
mightbeimpossiblenotto · 1 month ago
Text
House - Oct 12 - @rosekillermicrofic - 1,950 words - Warnings: mild homophobia from character’s father, biting again
(a/n - this one is too long again, but it needed some world building)
Evan met Barty when he was just seven years old. His parents had taken him to some pureblood gathering for the adults, leaving the children to themselves in another room. Some of the other kids already knew each other from previous events, and they formed little groups, of which Evan had no desire to be a part. There was one sullen looking boy standing against one of the walls, glaring at everyone else with hazel eyes. His hair was a messy mop of dark brown, his skin pale and clear. Evan approached him.
“I’m Evan Rosier,” he greeted, in the way he had been taught to introduce himself, sticking a hand out to shake.
Barty stared at his hand with disdain. “Barty.”
Oh, Evan had heard that name before. “Crouch’s son?”
Barty’s face went abruptly dark as he straightened up against the wall. Evan took his hand back as it seemed Barty had no intentions of shaking it, awkwardly putting it back in his pocket.
“Don’t ever mention my father to me,” he spat. Evan didn’t flinch, he just raised one eyebrow at the other boy until Barty softened. “We don’t exactly get along.”
“I don’t get along with my father, either,” Evan offered, though he knew he didn’t mean it in the same way that Barty must mean. Evan’s father was a stony man; he didn’t show affection or any other emotion, and he didn’t show his love in any traditional methods, if at all. For much of his life, Evan considered his father on the outside of their small family: him, Pandora, and their mother had a very close relationship, and then there was their father on the outside, looking in but not participating. It seemed that Barty’s relationship with his father was even worse than apathetic.
But Barty seemed comforted by Evan’s commiseration. His face relaxed, and he stopped leaning against the wall. By the end of the evening, Barty and Evan had played several games of chess and exploding snap.
And I’ve been meaning to tell you
I think your house is haunted
Your dad is always mad and that must be why
They became good friends, Evan and Barty. They started seeing each other at more pureblood social events, and they each ignored every other child present, only playing with one another. By the time it was time to go to Hogwarts, Evan was excited about the prospect of seeing his friend every day, perhaps even living in the same dorm as him.
Barty was thrilled when he got on the train. He was nearly bouncing out of his seat with excitement. They shared a train car with Evan’s sister Pandora and a friend of hers, Dorcas. A third boy named Regulus wandered in at some point, his carefully bored expression trying to mask some anxiety at having to search for an open compartment. Barty invited him in immediately.
It wasn’t until far later that night, after the sorting hat ceremony and the welcoming feast, after Regulus, Evan and Barty had all been sorted into Slytherin and found out they were going to be sharing a dorm room together, that Barty’s good mood finally broke. Regulus had gone to sleep, an unnatural silence surrounding his bed curtains after he had pulled them shut (he must already know how to do silencing charms).
Evan was sitting up in bed reading a book, and Barty had been unpacking his trunk, showing Evan every little thing he had brought from home. After a while, Barty had gone quiet, and Evan realized he was able to finish a whole chapter without Barty interrupting. He looked up, only to find Barty staring at the wall, eyes unseeing, as tears streamed unhindered down his cheeks.
“Barty!” Evan whisper-shouted, shocked. He hurried out of bed to crouch next to his friend, but when Barty didn’t move at all, Evan changed tactics and sat next to him. Their backs were leaning against Barty’s bed as they stared at the stone walls that made up their dungeon dorm room. Evan waited for Barty to speak first.
“I’ve never spent a night away from home,” Barty finally whispered, which wasn’t what Evan had expected him to say at all. He was confused — Barty always complained about being at home, being near his father, so Evan expected him to love being away at Hogwarts. He waited for further explanation, and Barty quickly gave it. “I’m so… relieved.”
His voice broke, and then Barty was sobbing, and Evan pulled him as close as he could while he cried.
And I think you should come live with me
And we can be pirates
After several years at Hogwarts, Evan grew used to Barty’s confusing relationship with his family. He returned home for every holiday, never missing a single chance to leave. He professed how much he loved Hogwarts, how much he hated to leave, especially when Evan or Regulus were staying behind for a holiday. It took Evan until fourth year to realize the reason Barty always went back was for his mum.
He never spoke about her. He complained about his father on a daily basis; he repeated every terrible thing his father had ever put in his head, much to the displeasure of Evan, who felt it was his personal duty to prove Barty’s father wrong. But Barty never mentioned his mum.
Evan had asked Barty to come to his house for Christmas in fourth year. After three years of watching his friend come back from the Christmas holiday looking miserable and emotionally beaten down by his father, Evan had had enough. A week before they were all supposed to board the train back to London, Evan broached the subject with Barty.
“Why don’t you ever come to mine for holiday?” Evan asked. “If being at home makes you so miserable, that is.” He had been listening to Barty complain for close to three hours at that point.
“Can’t,” Barty said simply. “I have to see mum.”
Evan hadn��t ever asked again.
Then you won’t have to cry
Or hide in the closet
When Barty came back for sixth year, he was different. Evan couldn’t explain what it was to anyone else, but it was entirely obvious to him. Something fundamental had changed Barty in some way, and Evan felt entitled to that information. Barty walked onto the train with a different swagger to his step, a different attitude behind his words, a different emotion behind his eyes. It was as if he had a mask on for everyone else, but Evan could see right through it, and he hated the fact that he was the only one who could see it.
To make matters worse, Barty was avoiding Evan and their group of friends, never spending any time in the dorm or even the common room. He was usually hooking up with some girl, stumbling into the dorm early the next morning, looking disheveled and depressed. Evan couldn’t understand it. Barty had never shown interest in girls before, despite other boys in their year having started ages ago. Evan found comfort in this fact, as he had never had any interest in the other sex, and he was beginning to realize he never would. Except Barty had come back and, very suddenly, girls were all he could or would think about.
Evan’s patience quickly wore thin, and he confronted Barty one day on his return to the dorm. Evan had been waiting for him, fuming, because he hadn’t spent any time with Barty at all in weeks. As soon as Barty walked through the door, Evan practically pounced.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Bartemius Crouch, Jr.?” Evan spat, backing Barty against the door he had just closed behind him.
“Um,” Barty fumbled ineloquently. “Getting dressed, I hope? These clothes are from last night.”
“I know,” Evan hissed. “You’re never fucking here anymore. Why are you never here?”
He watched Barty swallow thickly, his throat bobbing. “I’m here, I live here, Evan—“
“You haven’t slept here since we’ve been back,” Evan insisted. “Tell me what the fuck is going on.”
He shoved closer, getting in Barty’s space, watching as his eyes flew wide. “Get the hell off me—“
“Not until you tell me what’s going on with you,” Evan prodded. “C’mon, Barty, it’s me. We’ve been friends since we were seven.”
Barty stared at him for what felt like a long time. Finally, he admitted, “I had a fight with my father. A big one.”
Evan’s eyebrows pulled together. He didn’t back off from Barty yet. “That’s it? You fight with him all the time.”
“Yeah,” Barty blew out a large breath, the pieces of hair framing his face fanning out. “But, this time, he found out his only son and heir is gay.”
It went dead silent for a moment while Evan processed that vital bit of information. Barty tried to look nonchalant, as if he didn’t care at all what Evan’s reaction would be, but he kept inadvertently flicking worried glances Evan’s way.
“The girls,” Evan said, meaning it as a question but it came out more as a grunt. Barty knew what he meant anyway.
“Yeah,” Barty sighed. “I thought maybe I could fake it pretty well. I don’t even sleep with most of them. We just end up getting drunk and making out, which is fine for me.”
Evan’s head was spinning. “But you — guys. You’re into guys.”
Barty swallowed again, and Evan couldn’t tear his eyes away from Barty’s throat even if he tried. He leaned forward, not quite sure what he was planning on doing before he pressed his lips to the skin just over Barty’s thundering pulse on the side of his neck. Barty gasped beneath him, arching up into his touch. Evan groaned against his skin, gently biting the area and soothing the sting with his tongue. Barty made a sort of keening wail.
“Oh, Merlin, Evan,” Barty gasped out, and then his hands were shoving Evan back. His pupils were blown wide when Evan looked at him. “You — you’re…?”
He trailed off, not quite asking what he wanted to ask. Evan answered anyway. “I like you. I want you. I don’t really care about anyone else.”
Barty’s eyes, which were already too-wide, grew impossibly wider. He surged forward, connecting their lips for a moment, and it was like Evan was doused in fire. He had no idea how he had managed to live without kissing Barty before. Too soon, Barty was pulling away, but only to tack on: “Me too, Evan. Only you.”
And just like a folk song
Our love will be passed on
The day after they graduated from Hogwarts, Barty and Evan moved into a tiny flat in London. It was barely enough space for a living area, kitchen, bedroom and bath, and Evan couldn’t possibly love it any more than he already did. It meant so much to him to live in a space that only belonged to him and Barty, a space that was entirely theirs.
Barty was at the shops, but he would be home soon. Home — that was the word Evan had been searching for. He’d lived in many places: his family’s extravagant manor, their many vacation houses, the dormitory, to name a few. But he had never felt at home in any of them, not the way he did in that tiny flat, with Barty.
When Barty finally did arrive, with four bags of groceries hanging off of his arms, Evan greeted him with a soft kiss and a warm smile. “Welcome home,” he said.
“Happy to be here,” Barty replied.
66 notes · View notes
viesanterieures · 9 months ago
Text
𝐓𝐨 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
William Killick (The Edge of Love) x fem Reader
next chapter
note: This story is set in May 1936, William is about 27 and it takes place years before the actual movie.
summary: William Killick takes a break from his London life and spends a few weeks at the country estate of the wealthy Hallward family. The family take an instant liking to William and try to get him to marry their beautiful daughter Norma. Also on the estate is the reader, who works as a maid. When William receives anonymous poems, he ends up falling in love with the mysterious writer instead of Norma.
word count: 2000+
warnings: … none!
masterlist
Tumblr media
"Excuse me sir, we've reached the end of the line." Yawning, William opened his eyes as he heard a voice behind him and stretched sleepily, curious to see who was speaking to him. A woman in a uniform with a dark skirt and matching hat stood beside him. "Are we there yet... What time is it?" he asked her. "It's just after half past seven, sir," the train attendant replied with a friendly smile. As William straightened up in his seat and then saw that the landscape before him had changed from the brown roofs of London to green hills and beautiful mountain scenery with small lakes. "My God... I must have slept for hours." The train attendant smiled at him kindly and wished him a good journey.
William felt the train slow down and grabbed his suitcase from the luggage rack. Once outside, he set it down on the floor and took a deep breath. The air smelled fresh and the wind blew through his hair. Although he had never been to this place before, he had the strange feeling that he belonged here. He closed his eyes for a moment. The orange light of the setting sun shone through his eyelids. The green hills of the Scottish Highlands stretched out before him, surrounded by a light mist. Green meadows, colourful flowers and streams dominated the landscape. The sky was cloudless and the air smelled of fresh moss. William could hardly look away. It was so different from London. The grass rustled softly under his shoes as he made his way to his accommodation for the next few weeks.
Curious, he looked up at the big building. It was built entirely of stone, with small windows adorned with red, ivy-covered shutters that glowed in the evening sun. William dragged his suitcase up the stairs that led to a wide wooden door. The muffled sound filled the silence as William knocked on the door. It opened with a squeak to reveal an older, very elegantly dressed lady with shoulder-length curly hair.
"Good evening, you must be our new guest, Mr Killick, aren't you?" Her voice sounded friendly and welcoming. "That’s right. And you must be Margaret Hallward, the owner of the estate," William replied. The lady nodded. "I am. Come in, you must have travelled a long way, sir." William followed her into the warm house. Mrs Hallward disappeared for a moment behind a wooden counter and handed William a key. "Room seven is yours. The dining room is in the ground floor and the common room is on the second floor. Breakfast is tomorrow from seven to half past eight. YN, would you be so kind as to accompany our guest to his room? And take some of his luggage."
"Of course, Mrs Hallward," a quiet voice sounded behind them, and William turned around curiously. In front of them stood a young woman in a red apron and white blouse. William smiled kindly at her. "No, wait, I can carry that," he interrupted her when she tried to take the suitcase off. Shrugging her shoulders, she finally gave up and told William to follow her. They walked along a corridor decorated with old paintings and photos of the country estate and stopped in front of a room door with the number 7.
"Thank you so much, Ma'am," he said, putting the room key in the lock. The young woman smiled and wished him a good night before disappearing without another word.
****
William had slept very well that night. It was probably because he was quite tired from the long journey. When he finally entered the dining room for breakfast, it was already quite full. He took an empty seat at a table where an elderly man was still sitting, reading a newspaper.
"Tea, sir?" It was the young woman again who had shown him his room yesterday. "Yes, thank you“, he said. "What was your name again?"
"YN," she said quietly, and poured some tea into a small cup.
"Beautiful name."
William could clearly see her cheeks turning slightly pink at the words. "Thank you, sir." But they were interrupted by Mrs Hallward, who approached the table with a big smile. "Good morning, Mr Killick! Did you sleep well?"
"Very well, Mrs Hallward," he replied. "I don't think I've slept as well as I did this morning for months. So I'm really going to enjoy my holiday."
"I'm glad to hear that." She laughed. "Oh, I'd like to introduce you to someone, wait a moment please " She turned to one of the tables and called out in a loud voice. "Norma! Will you come here, please?"
"Yes, Mother." Another woman joined them at the table, she was about a year or two younger than William. She had white-blonde hair, red lips and was wearing an elegant purple dress with ornate embroidery. She was very pretty, William realised.
"Mr Killick, this is my daughter Norma. She lives in Glasgow at the moment, but is here for a few weeks. She grew up at the country estate. If you like, she can show you around the neighbourhood and the town."
"It would be an honour. How about we meet outside the estate at three this afternoon?," Norma chuckled softly as she twirled a strand of her blonde hair between her fingers. William was very happy about the Hallward's hospitality and gratefully accepted the offer.
"But now we won't bother you any longer, Mr Killick. Enjoy your breakfast," Mrs Hallward said with a smile as she took Norma's arm and led her away from the table. As they walked, he heard them whispering to each other, catching bits of sentences like 'isn't he lovely' or 'he looks like a prince from a fairytale'.
Slowly, William turned in the direction where YN had last been, but she was gone.
***
William spent the morning in the garden of the country estate, sitting on one of the benches beneath a cherry tree. The weather was warm, and the birds chirped softly in the treetops. Eventually, he closed his book and stood up to return to the house. As he passed one of the large flower beds, he paused. He saw a person sitting there, gardening.
"Nice to see you again, Ms YN," he said kindly. She didn't seem to notice his arrival and flinched when she heard his voice behind her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," William apologised immediately. "It’s alright, sir," she said, turning her attention back to the bed.
"Call me William, please."
She immediately looked at him in surprise. She had never expected that. A gust of wind came up and brushed through William's dark hair, and his bright blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
"Shall I help you?" he asked her, pointing to the bucket of weeds. She immediately declined his offer. "No, William, you're here on holiday. Not to work." William shrugged. "Anything where I don't have to be in London is a holiday for me. I really love this city, it's my home. But sometimes I really need to go somewhere else." YN nodded briefly. "I've never been to London or any other big city. I imagine it's stressful."
He laughs and shrugs. "I can't deny that it's stressful sometimes." Slowly he knelt down beside her and began to pluck the weeds from the ground in front of him. "You don't have to do that," she said quickly. "It's okay," William replied quietly, continuing to work.
YN laughed. "This has never happened to me before. A guest helping me with my work. If Mrs Hallward finds out, she'll scold me." William smiled a little. "Tell her I did it voluntarily. "You already have enough work." When they were finished, the young woman smiled briefly, then took off her gloves, stood up and reached for the bucket. "I have to go now."
"Wait, don’t you want to stay here a bit longer?" William asked hastily.
"Sorry, I've still got a lot to do. But thank you for helping me, that was very kind of you." She waved goodbye to William and finally turned round. William looked at her for a moment, a bit disappointed. Then he glanced at his pocket watch and flinched. It was ten minutes past three, Norma was probably already waiting for him.
He quickly grabbed his book that was laying in the grass and hurried to the front gate. Norma was waiting there, her arms crossed over her chest, looking at him with raised eyebrows as he finally greeted her completely out of breath. "Sorry I'm late."
She finally smiled and said in a friendly voice, "It's okay." Her hair was pinned up in an elegant braid, her lipstick was the same colour as the new pastel pink dress she was wearing, and she carried a matching handbag.
"I was in the garden talking to YN. I must have lost track of time."
One of her blonde eyebrows immediately raised again and she looked at him as if he had just said something completely stupid. "You're talking to household staffs? They're working for us, it’s far below our class."
He looked at her, confused. "But why shouldn't I talk to her? She's really nice."
Norma stayed silent, grabbed his arm and pulled him along without a word. She led him through the Scottish Highlands, down a small forest path, until the roofs of houses appeared in the distance. This had to be Tobermory. The air smelled of salty sea and a fresh breeze as they walked along Tobermory's coastal road, lined with colourful houses. High mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in a gentle mist. "Wow, it's beautiful!" marveled William.
"I know, right?" Norma replied giggling, taking his hand and pulling him towards a small café.
"My aunt works there," she said. "She makes the best cakes." They entered the café and sat down on a corner bench by a small window. "Norma, how lovely to see you again." A lady with bright red hair came up to them and pulled her niece into her arms, laughing. When she noticed William, she looked him over from head to toe, smiled and turned back to her niece. "And who is that handsome young man next to you? Did you meet him in Glasgow?" Norma shook her head, laughing. "No. He's a guest of Mother's. She asked me to show him around."
"Oh, how lovely. You know, Norma, it's time for you to get married. Can I bring you both some of my Dundee cake?" William frowned slightly when she mentioned marriage. Did the Hallwards already see him as their future son in law?
They spent the rest of the afternoon in the little café, William telling Norma about his home in London, his job, his family, and she seemed to be very interested. But William hadn't forgotten her nasty comment about YN. He was torn by Norma.
After they said goodbye that evening, William went to his room tired. In the corridor he saw Mrs Hallward talking excitedly to YN. "You forgot to fluff up the pillows in Room 9! How many times do I have to tell you?" she snapped at her in a harsh tone.
"I'm sorry, Mrs Hallward, I..." But she didn't let YN finish, because when she noticed William, she put on a big smile again: "Oh, Mr Killick, how nice to see you. Did you have a nice day with Norma?"
"Yes, I did, thank you for asking," he replied. He looked at YN, but she avoided his gaze, holding a white sheet in her arms.
"You know, Norma is still not married and we're looking for a suitable husband for her. Or do you already have a wife?" Mrs Hallward wanted to know. William shook his head slowly.
"She is such a beautiful young woman. But no man has ever met her standards. You're the first one she has shown interest in", the lady explained to him. "Come, YN, you need to get back to work now, the dishes need to be washed."
"Good night, William," YN said to him as he walked past, nodding to him.
"Good night," he replied.
As soon as he entered his room, he took off his jacket and shirt and yawned softly. He intended to read, but he was so tired that he just wanted to lie down in bed. Suddenly he heard something crunching under his feet and looked down in surprise. There was a small piece of white paper under his shoe. Someone must have slipped it through the gap under his door. He bent down and picked it up carefully. It was no bigger than William's hand, made of good quality and written in black ink.
Holding his breath, William began to read:
𝓣𝓸 𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓶 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮
ℐ𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝒶 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝒷𝓎 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒.
𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒽𝒶𝒾𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝒶𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝑒, 𝒷𝓁𝓊𝑒 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒.
ℋ𝒾𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽, 𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒, 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓇𝑒.
Confused, he turned the letter over in his hands. Was it from Norma? But she had been with him all afternoon, hadn't she? Who else was writing him poems?
****************************************************
Thank you so much for reading! If you want a part 2, let me know! 🖤
109 notes · View notes
alrightberries · 1 year ago
Text
seasons change
Tumblr media
PAIRING: dabi x reader
SUMMARY: in which you and dabi are childhood best friends who are bad with feelings.
alternatively, all the words unspoken between you and dabi are summarized with just one short word: goodbye.
TAGS & WARNINGS: implied sex, smoking, kinda unhealthy relationship, implied body horror (it's dabi)
a/n: this has been rotting in my drafts for so long; i wrote this before dabi's backstory was officially revealed no one come for me for the wonky timeline
six.
you didn't like cleaning houses. or, a better way of putting it was, you didn't like cleaning someone else's house six days a week, four weeks a month, twelve months a year.
days always ended with back pain and scraped knees from the intense floor scrubbing, and you didn't like the way the wet rags would leave your fingers wrinkled and cramping.
your mom insisted that cleaning was fun because it built character and discipline. you insisted that it wasn't fun, and that cleaning your house was much easier than cleaning a mansion (but, really now, anything was a mansion to you compared to your one bedroom house).
"okay, how about we play another game?" your mom asks with a teasing smile. "whoever cleans the mops the fastest, wins!"
it was five o'clock in the evening and you were tired— your shoulders and elbows hurt and at this point you were ready to pass out in your futon back at home. but work is from seven to seven, and you still had to polish the gym's... red mill? treck mill? you can't remember what they were called.
"but momma, i'm tired." you whined. "can we go home now? i wanna go to school tomorrow."
the wide smile on your mom's face gets smaller, and you don't know how to describe it. she was smiling but why did she seem sad? smiles weren't meant to be sad.
"maybe you should skip school tomorrow too. don't you want to spend more time with momma?"
you do want to spend more time with momma, but you've been skipping school for two months now. you miss your friends. you miss when work was play, and play was play, and play was fun.
when you don't reply, your mom sighs and kneels on the floor, fingers lifting your chin to meet her eyes. "tell you what. how about you rest for now, okay? i'll clean up the mops and polish the treadmills, you stay here. if anyone comes in, just pretend to be cleaning, okay?"
"okay!"
her foot steps pad away when she slides the big door close, and you sigh when you finally sit down for the first time in what felt like hours. but just as soon as the doors slid close, they opened again, and you tense. you knew it wasn't your mom, mom always knocks.
"oh— uh, sorry." a boy, probably the son of your mom's client, murmurs in surprise. his white hair is the first thing you notice, his blue eyes (were they blue? maybe green?) the second. "i saw L/N-san leave the gym and thought you were finished."
"we're almost done," was the only thing you managed to say softly, before— "oh!" you dipped into a deep bow. "good evening, todorki-sama."
"ugh, sama?" you don't see but the boy grimaces. "don't call me that, you make me sound so old."
"i'm sorry, todoroki—"
"—san."
"okay, todoroki-san."
"...you can stop bowing now," he laughs awkwardly, and you straighten up. "my dad says i'm not supposed to talk to you."
"mom says I’m not supposed to talk to you either."
"oh."
a moment passes, and neither of you know what to say. you were still staring at the floor and fiddling with your hands while waiting for him to talk or leave or... something.
suddenly, todoroki clears his throat, awkwardly shifting around. "why don't the adults want us to talk?"
"i don't—"
"todoroki touya!" a firm voice booms from the doorway, and you grab a rag and start polishing the reck mill. you don't turn around when you hear todorki approach his father, footsteps fading away and the door sliding shut again.
no more than a minute later, your mom came back. she lifted your chin again and gave you a kiss on the forehead, small smile on her face when she grabbed a rag to help you clean.
she looked paler than she did when she left, and you don't mention it when you notice her fingers start shaking. you don't mention the red stuff on the white handkerchief peeking out of her pocket, either.
Tumblr media
eight.
"i'm bored."
"okay."
"i'm bored."
"i heard you."
"y/n, i'm bored."
"what am i supposed to do about it?"
"...entertain me."
you smile. "entertain you how?"
"tell me about your quirk," todoroki said one day, mindlessly tapping his pencil on the table. there was some kind of math written on the papers in front of him, but it was gibberish in your eyes— you could, just barely, read and count, but you don't know what business a triangle has being surrounded by numbers and the ABCs.
"i don’t have one, todorki-san."
"touya-kun, i told you to call me touya-kun." he grumbles, and you giggle.
"okay, touya-kun." you don't know why touya kept talking to you— he was probably bored, like he said, and maybe lonely— but you liked his company.
"did the counselor say you were quirkless?"
"no," you adjust your grip on the broom. "mom says we can't afford quirk counseling, but she's quirkless so i probably am too."
"don't schools have free quirk counseling?"
school. huh, you haven't thought of that in a while. so you shrug. "i wouldn't know, i don't go to school anymore."
"really?!" he screeches, and you nod. a long, bored groan escapes his lips, and you laugh when be dramatically flops down on the floor. "you're so lucky!"
not really, you wanted to say. i'm just lucky you're homeschooled so i'm not alone. speaking of which—
"are those from training again?" you eye the bruises that litter his arms. you don't think you've ever seen him without a bruise in the years you've known each other.
"yeah, dad's been really strict lately," he says, and you don't get the chance to ask him more about it because there's a knock on the door. you step away from him, going back to sweeping the room just as his mom comes in with a tray of food in her hands, and touya lets out a yell of happiness.
she teases him about his unfinished math homework before she leaves, and you try to ignore the smell of miso and fish his mom made for him. when was the last time you ate? was it yesterday or the other day? you couldn't remember.
"d'you want some?" touya asks when he hears your tummy grumble embarrassingly loud. but you decline. "no, it's okay. your mom made those for you."
"she made too much though, and i don't want it to go to waste."
liar. you've seen him eat, he could eat two servings of what he had now and still ask for dessert. but you keep quiet this time, putting down the broom and accepting todoroki's invitation when he pats the spot next to him.
"haven't you eaten lunch yet?" he asks, and you quietly shake your head as he lends you his chopsticks.
"well, why not?"
"i don't know how to cook."
"doesn't your mom cook for you?"
"she does, but she's in the hospital."
touya tries to think of the past week and realizes he hasn't seen her around, not even heard her voice to call you from another room. so he asks, "is she going to be okay?"
"maybe? the nice doctor said she'll be fine." you reply. touya only nods.
he slips two rice balls in your bag just before you leave that day, telling you to give one to your mom when she gets back from the hospital.
"oh! and tell her i said hi."
he keeps slipping you rice balls after that because you never got to tell her he said hi, and you never got to tell her goodbye, either.
Tumblr media
eleven.
there are sniffles coming from touya's room.
the sniffles make you pause mid-polish of a large and empty vase in the hallway, and you've been awkwardly standing in front of his door for a good six minutes now, unsure what to do. should you go get his parents? no, that would make it seem like you were eavesdropping on their son. should you knock? yeah, knocking seemed like a good choice.
so you do; three soft knocks on his door, and suddenly the sniffles stop.
"touya?" you call out, knocking again. "it's me."
there's a moment of silence before the door hesitantly cracks open. he doesn't open it all the way at first, one eye peeking out to make sure it really was you. the door opens fully this time, and you're confused when he peers around the empty hallway, eyes lingering to make sure no one was there, before yanking you inside, arms wrapping around your waist and his head tucking into the crook of your neck.
"touya, what are you—"
"please stay with me," came his little squeak, followed by more sniffles and his body wracking from his ragged breaths. an arm wraps around his torso, the other one cradling the back of his head as you shushed him and reassured him, slowly rocking both your bodies back and forth.
"do you want to talk about it?" you ask quietly, and touya shakes his head, burrowing deeper into you.
you nod. "it's okay, you don't have to."
your words were calm and reassuring but internally you were panicking. all the hairs on your body stood on its end because there was this... smell, one that you could only compare to a mixture of butane and a burning dumpster.
burning skin, your brain horrifically corrected, and every fibre of your being was screaming at you to get the hell out of there.
but then you realize where the smell is coming from, and its only when you lean back do you realize touya's arms were red and raw. how the hell did you not see that before?
"your arms—"
"i know," he cuts you off, voice nasally and choked up. "i don't want to talk about it. you said we didn't have to talk about it."
you sigh, gently coaxing him from where he was still buried in the crook of your neck, and his grip on you only tightens. "i'm not leaving, i promise." your hand begins to rub reassuring circles on his back. "i just want you to look at me."
when you coax him out again, he obliges, but still doesn't look at you. so you do the first thing that came to mind— a habit learned from a hazy memory of your mother.
fingers gently grasped the bottom of his chin, gently lifting up his gaze before soft lips place a small kiss on his forehead. he freezes at first, but he gradually melts into your gentle touch, once again burrowing his face into the crook of your neck as you whispered small reassurances into his ear.
the following day, touya's eyes were a little dimmer and he wore nothing but long sleeved shirts.
Tumblr media
fourteen.
When you first came to work on a random Tuesday afternoon, the entire Todoroki estate was quiet. This was normal. They were a family who spoke to each other quietly, never raising their voice or making a ruckus (except for Endeavor). What wasn’t normal, however, was the somber mood that seemed to loom the entire house as a woman with white hair and red streaks— the eldest Todoroki sister, you remember— wordlessly gave you your list of chores for the day before locking herself in her room.
The atmosphere made you uncomfortable. It didn’t help that Touya didn’t even attempt to bother you the entire day either, but you didn’t think much of it. He was probably doing his homework in the study or training somewhere else.
So it came as a surprise to you when, just as you were walking through the park on your way back home, the smell of burnt flesh reached your nose once again and all the hair in your body stood up. Your instincts screamed at you to run, something you undoubtedly would’ve done had a hand not shot out from underneath the bushes and tripped you, forcing you to fall on the ground and meet two familiar turquoise eyes— hidden in the shrubbery— staring into your own.
After getting over your initial shock you took Touya back to the house your mother had left behind. Normally you wouldn’t be allowed to keep a house if you were underage, but lucky for you things the government mixed up your files and you were allowed to inherit it with no next of kin or legal guardians. The house fell to your name, and it was all you had left.
“I- Touya, I don’t know what to do.” You panicked, staring at the angry red flesh on his arms and upper torso. He was lying down on your tiny kitchen table, shirtless and pants charred. Your cleaning gloves did little to hide the shake of your hands, the visual of him in pain and surrounded by bloodied rags. “I can’t treat you. We need to call the hospital—”
“Don’t.” He rasped weakly, breathing heavy. You noticed that the underside of his eyes were burnt as well. Didn’t it hurt him to blink? “You can’t.”
“Why not?!”
“My family thinks I’m dead.”
Tumblr media
sixteen.
Around spring, you finally had the guts to resign from your job at the Todoroki household and pursue another one. It wasn’t anything big— just a small waitressing job at a curry restaurant a couple blocks away from your neighborhood. Still, the pay was okay and you didn’t have to watch a family mourn the loss of a son you were secretly harboring.
You weren’t sure exactly what prompted you to let him stay. He told you a little bit of his life— why he did what he did, and though you sympathized with him fully was it really right for you to keep him around?
Maybe it was the feeling of being indebted to him every time you pretended not to see him slip an extra cup of rice or an extra bowl of soup into your take home meals. Maybe it was the feeling of being thankful when he secretly lent you books so you could improve your skills on reading and writing. Maybe it was the feeling of guilt from not making him tell you what was bothering him on the day you heard him crying, convinced that if you had then you wouldn’t be here now. You weren’t sure— but you were glad you let him stay.
“Hey, I’m home.” You called out tiredly, dumping your keys in your bag. A puff of white hair peaked out from behind the couch, and you couldn’t help the amusement in your eyes as you stared at Touya.
“Got another piercing, I see.” You mused as you set down the bag of curry on the diningroom table. Touya didn’t reply as he silently extinguished his cigarette and helped you set the table.
Ever since the day he faked his own death, he’s been... different, to say the least, and you weren’t surprised at all.
He’s been more closed off, more quiet. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t like being a “jobless deadbeat” (his words, not yours) while you worked your ass off to support the two of you; or if it was because he wasn’t used to living “the poor life” (again, his words not yours) compared to his previous life of luxury.
You didn’t have much to offer; just an old but well-kept house that's seen better days, a large futon you and your mother shared, and a life living paycheck to paycheck and buried in debt while he busied himself with chores and whatever he could do around the small house.
Three meals a day wasn’t guaranteed with your budget so you had to cut it down to two a day at most. And even then, there’d be times you’d only eat once. Meals were usually composed of either canned food, instant noodles, leftovers, or raw ingredients that were close to going bad. Touya had never had anything that wasn’t fresh or organic, and the first few weeks were a struggle for his stomach to adjust. But with how he first came to you, his delicate stomach was the least of his problems.
The burns on his skin weren’t treated properly thanks to your limited medical knowledge. You had to keep them bandaged the first couple months he’d stayed with you, and since you couldn’t afford both painkillers and clean bandages at the same time, there was nothing to numb Touya to the pain. Fortunately, he healed just fine. Yet he refused to take off the bandages and let you see the dark purple marks where his tan skin used to be.
You knew it still hurt him to move but you also knew that if you tried to stop him he’d only throw a fit. Doing chores around the house and keeping things clean was, according to him, the least he could do to help. He didn’t clean as well as someone who does it for a living, but his efforts to keep your shared home tidy didn’t go unappreciated. He was fairly okay at cooking simple things that only needed frying or boiling— nothing too complex since he’s never really had a need to cook for himself, much less for another person. Housework was his way of saying thank you, and you weren’t about to take it away from him.
“I don’t understand how you always come home with two curry bowls.” Touya finally speaks, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts. “Thought the restaurant only let you have one free take away per day. Do you buy me this shit every night?”
“Yeah, sure, I can definitely do that with my salary.” You replied. “Nah. Luckily one of the line cooks has a thing for me and doesn’t mind slipping me an extra meal. He thinks I have it for breakfast in the morning.”
He scoffs but doesn’t reply.
Tumblr media
seventeen.
“Help me dye my hair black,” was the first thing he said when you asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday. You had a little bit of money set aside for a present. Nothing too expensive or grand, but just enough that you could actually afford something out of your tightly monitored expenses— monitored by none other than your roommate— that wasn’t cup noodles.
You didn’t hesitate to run to the nearest drugstore to buy cheap black dye and help him with his hair. Black water trickled down the drain as you held the shower head over his hair.
“What’s it look like, doll?” He asked.
“You look like a really ugly wet dog.”
“That’s rich coming from someone who grinded on me like a bitch in heat last night.”
You chuckled. Well, you couldn’t argue with that.
He stopped wearing his bandages months ago. It was a miracle that you found an under the table doctor who agreed to help patch him up for a reasonable price. You already computed everything— the operation that involved putting staples around his arms, face and torso was cheaper than buying fresh bandages every damn day. It’d take the better part of at least three years to pay off, but seeing him grow to embrace the silver studs on his burnt body the way he embraced his beloved ear piercings made you smile.
He’s been starting to go out of the house, too. He doesn’t tell you where he goes— not that he had to— but you were glad he stopped cooping himself up inside.
“You look good, Tou- sorry, Dabi.” You murmured.
His hands were gripping the sides of the tub as you continued to wash the excess dye from his hair, and you pretend not to notice the familiar smell of burnt flesh sticking to his jacket despite the fact that you knew his burns were already healed. You also pretend not to notice the new clothes he wore that definitely weren’t in his closet this morning.
“You look good.”
Tumblr media
nineteen.
Dabi only got rougher from there.
He became more crude in the way he spoke, and sometimes he’d disappear for days on end without a single word. You got nervous the first few times he did it, scolding him and telling him to never make you worry like that ever again (he still did).
He’d roll his eyes and yell at you to back off, he wasn’t your boyfriend, stop being so damn clingy. You hated those fights the most. They usually ended with Dabi sleeping on the couch or storming out, and you angry crying yourself to sleep at night. The only thing that brought you comfort was that he always came back.
“I’m heading out, don’t wait up for me.” He spoke, putting on his coat.
“Are you going to come back within the week?”
“I don’t know.”
You sighed. “Okay. Take care.”
It’d be hypocriticial to say his secrets bothered you because he wasn’t the only one with secrets. Even with your promotion at the restaurant, even with you working overtime and taking extra shifts to the point that you barely got any sleep, money was still tight. Bills were getting steeper, banks were demanding money from your debts, and groceries were getting more expensive.
It was the line cook that kept flirting with you that introduced you to the scene of underground poker. He was a gambler and decided to take you to one of his games in an attempt to impress you (not knowing about your live in not-boyfriend). He won every game that night and started taking you to all his matches, saying he always played better when he was with you. Even called you his “lucky ace.” You only rolled your eyes but let him show you off so long as he kept slipping you extra dinner every night. That was, until, you learned the ropes and became a gambler yourself and quickly made a name in the underground scene.
Dabi wasn’t dumb. He knew that the money you magically found to pay off his operation from two years ago as well as your debt to the hospital that treated your mother wasn’t from your savings. He knew that the fresh meat and vegetables you started buying from the market weren’t there because the grocer had a sale. And he damn well knew that you secretly quit your job at the restaurant even though you acted like you were still employed, even going as far as putting on your old uniform whenever you left for “work.”
And yet, just like you never questioned where he suddenly got the money to contribute to the household, he never questioned where you got yours.
Tumblr media
twenty-one.
It was around your second year of being a professional underground poker player did your secret get revealed to Dabi. You were too careless. The sudden transfer to a “restaurant branch” in the city. The expensive clothes and unexplained budget for much needed home renovations. The appearance of painkillers and anti-irritation ointment (that he definitely didn’t buy) in his bedside drawer. The stash of card decks— clearly only used once at most— that you hid in a duffel bag in your closet.
Dabi didn’t comment on these.
He did, however, comment on the elegenat white and gold invitation to a professional poker match set for this Friday evening, addressed to an infamous masked player who had a record of never losing a single match. How could he not comment on it when you so generously left it out in the open.
“I knew you were up to some gambling but I didn’t expect you to be the infamous Lucky Ace.” He mused one night, holding the prestigious cardboard between his fingertips. He was sure if he tried to sell the invitation he’d get some money for it— he knows what real gold feels like when he touches it. “Never thought it’d be you. They say Lucky Ace’s Quirk is luck. The manipulation of probabilities, both of others and your own.”
You merely chuckled in amusement. You weren’t blessed with the Quirk of luck— you just happened to be a skilled gambler.
“I’ve had a lot of offers for your head.”
“And I’ve had a lot competition who turned up dead and burnt to a crisp before my matches.” You replied. “Thanks for that, by the way. I haven’t received a single paycheck in weeks.”
Ah, that too. Dabi was also getting careless. You definitely knew he was a kill for hire, and you definitely knew he was employed under another professional poker player who wanted to get to the top the easy way. You had a feeling he’s been the cause for your competitors sudden disappearances, and the unexplained duffel bags full of cash that sat next to yours didn’t help.
“Looks like we’ve both been careless.” He lazily threw the invitation to you. “Do me a favor— lose your match with Black Jack tomorrow, will ya? Now that I know who Lucky Ace is, boss won’t be happy that I let you live.”
You scoff. “You want me to lose to a guy who’s initials spell out blowjob? The hell do you take me for?”
Normally he loved your sharp tongue and crude jokes, but right now it wasn’t helping. The bounty on Lucky Ace’s head was too big to pass up, and if you won against Black Jack— his boss— tomorrow then the prize would only double. He wouldn’t be the only one out for your head by then.
He sighed, raising up one hand to show you the spark of blue flames. Intimidate you. He was trying to intimidate you. Or warn you— you didn’t fucking know.
But you merely smirked. “Wanna fuck?”
His eye twitched, and he pondered it for a few seconds. Groaning, he extinguished the flame.
“You’re lucky you’re a good lay.”
Tumblr media
twenty-two.
It was in the afterglow of sex that words unspoken revealed themselves.
Well, sort of.
Two sweaty bodies, panting next to each other. The smell of cigarettes and hormones thick in the air. The feeling of lips placing a kiss to your forehead as you wrapped the sheets around your torso, turning as you looked at the man beside you.
“What would you do if you found out I was secretly dating that line cook you hated so much?” You asked. His arm lazily wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you closer, your head resting on his chest. Dabi took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling, thinking it through. You took the stick from his hand and took a drag of your own.
“Damn, that’s good.” You murmured. “Not even reds can beat seven stars.”
He took the cigarette back from you and flicked off the ashes on the tray next to the bed.
“If you were dating what’s-his-name but still ask me to fuck you at least twice a week then he’s gotta be a virgin or some shit.” He finally replies. “That, or the poor guy’s dick isn’t enough to satiate you.”
“So... you’d be okay with it?”
“Does it matter? I’m not your boyfriend.”
“You could be, y’know.” You murmured, tracing your finger against his collarbone. “My boyfriend— I mean.”
“Sorry, doll. M’not interested in being your mistress.”
You clicked your tongue. “I’m not dating him, you dumbass. It was a hypothetical question.”
That was the closest you and Dabi ever got to a confession. That was the closest you ever got to asking him out after years of sexual tension that turned out to be romantic.
And the little kisses you peppered across his callous knuckles was the closest you ever got to saying “I love you.”
Fortunately, Dabi didn’t reject you or push you away. Instead he stayed the night cuddled up to you, holding your hand and waiting for you to fall asleep before slipping out of your hold and disappearing in the middle of the night for a job, just like he always did.
That was the closest he ever got to saying “I love you too.”
Tumblr media
twnety-three.
Dabi doesn’t like telling you shit.
At least, not when you’re awake. He did, however, have a lot of silent conversations with you when you’re asleep. His trips home became fewer and further in between, and every time he stayed he’d only stay the night or for three days at most. You tried to ask him about it once but he was always vague with his answers.
He tells you he doesn’t care, and you tell him you don’t either. He pretends not to notice when you buy the expensive brand of miso broth with your own money because you knew it was the one thing he missed from his old life. You pretend not to notice the fresh cup of tea and warm bento boxes that you wake up to whenever he leaves after his rare visits.
He doesn’t talk that much about his feelings— not out loud. But he does find himself pulling your sleeping form, clad in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts, closer to him at night. He finds his arm tightening around your waist and his nose burying itself in the back of your neck to inhale the scent that was unmistakably you, trying to remember it always.
I have to leave you again. He thinks to himself, staring at your peaceful face. I’m not sure if I’m coming back this time.
An invite had been extended to him— from a group that called themselves the League of Villains. It sounded pretentious, he wasn’t even going to lie, but they were aligned enough in terms of ideals that he didn't immediately tell them to fuck off. Still, there was no denying that they were a dangerous bunch. Your not-so-secret lifestyles were separate and there was a mutual unspoken rule that you wouldn’t involve the other.
Unlike your secret job, though, that involved you getting dressed in branded clothes and adorning fancy rings and expensive watches; that involved luxurious invitations to secret upscale poker games; that involved a black sedan that seemed to change number plates every time he saw it pull up to the front of the house to pick you up and drop you off; his job was much more dangerous. He worked with dangerous people, doing dangerous things, playing with dangerous ideals.
He already knew— despite your denial— that your Quirk was definitely luck. Too many things that could be brushed off as coincidence had luckily fallen into your lap. Too many coincidences was no longer a coincidence.
It was your Quirk protecting you, not him, when he kisses your forehead and slips out of your hold for what would be the last time to keep you from harm. At least that’s what he tells himself as gathers his clothes and belongings from around the house, trying to make it look like he was never there. He was a dangerous criminal— a villain now, and he’d be damned if he dragged you into his mess.
He takes one last look at you asleep on your shared futon, trying to burn the image to his mind so he never forgets. He wasn’t going to bring anything that could be traced back to you. He already blocked your contact and deleted all the photos he had of you on his phone, all the messages and call logs too. He’s already done the same process to your phone since you never changed your passcode.
Not a trace of you in his life and not a trace of him in yours, he tells himself as he eyes the shirt you wore. It was his. You could keep it, he guesses. He could just strip you down and get on with life, but he couldn’t do it without waking you up and messing up his plans. At least, that’s what he tries to convince himself as he walks away.
He’s got his coat on now and he left you a little bit of cash just in case. Not that you needed it, of course. You were a professional gambler who made more bank than he did. A black duffel bag’s slung over his shoulder that had all his stuff, and he’s giving the small house he called home one last once over to make sure there was never any indication that he was in your life. Will you hate him for leaving? He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care if you forgive him or not. This was to keep you safe. This was for the best.
He admires you for the last time as he slides the door open, sighing as he finally admits his feelings— for the first and last time— into the dark of the night.
“I love you, doll.”
And he pretends not to hear the faint whisper behind him when he closes the door.
“I love you too, Dabi.”
87 notes · View notes
sweethartlullaby · 11 months ago
Text
you, among the art vi
word count: 1269 genre/theme: fluff and angst later, sculpting series, graduate student and her professor/supervisor, female and male pairing as always, imagine whoever you would like... find part vii here sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist
Tumblr media
She looks as nervous as he feels. She was great in there but he can’t get rid of the swirling in his stomach. However, nerves aren’t unusual after presenting your final project. 
The very one that determines the path you might take after graduation. 
“What if they didn’t like it?” She asks for the hundredth time. He pushes himself off the wall and places his hands on her shoulders, stopping her pacing.
“I’m sure they did. You did great, okay?” He tries to crack a smile and she lets out a heavy breath, pressing a palm to her forehead. This isn’t a first for him, seeing his graduating student in distress. However, watching her in distress makes him wish that he could go in there and rush his colleagues.
“I’m sure it will be fine.” He bends down to meet her eyes and although the doubt is heavily weighing on them, she nods anyway. Just as he straightens his back, she pulls his body onto hers. His eyes quickly dart around, making sure no one is looking.
“Someone is going to-”
“Just for thirty seconds. Just to stop shaking.” She murmurs as she buries her head into his chest. He’s a precise person. However, even when he knows the thirty seconds have passed, he lets her hold him anyway and he runs his palm up and down her back slowly. When she finally pulls away, he feels cold.
“Thank you.” He grins down at her. 
They wait for about five more minutes until someone steps out and invites her back in. The applause from inside the room is all he needs to feel the rush of relief. She comes out with the biggest smile she has ever worn and all he says is “I told you so.”
“Is that what people really think of me?” He furrows his eyebrows but his smile denies any anger.
“Yes! People are so afraid of you and they were warning me about asking you to be my supervisor.” She takes another swig of her drink. Even with the warm light illuminating the room, her rosy pink cheeks still shine through. “Didn’t you make your previous student cry?”
“In my defense,” He places a hand on his chest. “She was not taking her project seriously at all.” She laughs. 
“I’m so,” She breathes out and throws her head back. “I’m so relieved it’s over.” She says and he smiles at her. Perhaps it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the snow outside that’s making her look even more beautiful than she needs to be to make his heart skip a beat. 
When he saw her on that date, all he felt was this crushing feeling. He knew they would have never worked, not as long as they were still working together. But seeing her with someone else made it feel real. It seemed like there was truly no way out of this besides to erase her from his mind. 
But he’s sitting beside her now and all he can think about is reaching for her hand, grabbing her face to press his lips against hers, tucking her hair behind her cheeks, and feeling the warmth of her skin against his. All he wants with her is to be closer. 
“I don’t know if I can ask this but,” She swallows. “Your dad mentioned a fiance at the gala.” His thoughts stop and he feels the air still. She must have noticed the change in his demeanor because she hesitates. 
“Go on.” He assures her.
“Well, you never mentioned having one. And I mean, if you do, why are you here?” She asks slowly and he takes another sip of his wine.
“I told him that if I were to get married, it would be after I am done with my work. He promised me seven more years.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Five and a half years ago.” He says and the silence that follows carves a hole into his heart. To him, his work was his life. He didn’t want anything else. He didn’t feel enough love to understand it. An arranged marriage was a way to save his family from him. He sees it as an obligation and nothing else. Everything has a purpose. Love isn’t a purpose. It isn’t a reason to stop yourself from going to greater heights. 
At least, that’s what he used to think.
He believes that she is the reason for the change of his mind. She almost makes him believe that it can be purposeful, that to burn for someone can mean something more than delirious passion. She’s his breath of fresh air. It feels as if she was the hand that saved him that night, the one that pulled him from the water. He doesn’t know if it’s love, it’s too soon to tell. But he feels it, he feels the urge to abandon everything that is his name just to be with her. He feels the battle against his rules. 
“Have you at least spoken to her? Your fiance, I mean.” He nods.
“We met when it was decided all those years ago.” 
“Was she at least mean?” He laughs and shakes his head. 
“She was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” She nods slowly, pursing her lips. They keep drinking and she talks about her own life. As an only child, her parents have always been supportive of what she wants to do. She was always hesitant about taking a career in art but it was her father that pushed her to do it. She says they give her so much to look forward to in life.
As the night gets later and the number of bottles on the table increases, her cheeks get redder and her words slur more. Even though he drinks slower, he can still start to feel the room sway. All the while, he watches as she gets even more excited after a few drinks. She talks about the ridiculous things that happened in her years at university, her friend, the stupid date she wishes she never went on, and the times she truly felt passionate about her work, one of them being when she started working with him. 
“You made me love sculpting even more and I didn’t think that was possible.”
“I do have a tendency to prove people wrong.” He chuckles but she stays silent. Her eyes shift uneasily as she stares at him. She moves and takes a seat closer to him in the booth. 
“Can you prove me wrong again?” She whispers and the blush in her cheeks makes her undeniable.
“What is it?” He murmurs, brushing her hair away from her face.
“Tell me this won’t work.” Her eyes start to water. 
“What won’t work?” He leans back, not taking his eyes off her. She doesn’t say anything and just collapses onto him, nesting her face in the space between his neck and collarbone.
“Another thirty seconds?” He murmurs, stroking her hair.
“Longer.” 
“One minute?”
“Longer.”
“All night?”
“Longer.” He laughs a little and leans his cheek on the top of her head. 
“You’re a wonder, you know that?” He whispers. She is silent for a while and then he feels her speak into his chest.
“Don’t confuse me. I don’t want someone who doesn’t want me.” His hand stops and everything pauses. The words on the tip of his tongue can’t come out either. When he finally exhales again, he purses his lips to stop himself. 
As much as he wants to, he can’t bring himself to say it. 
Not now.
a/n: yipee ka yay! i'd love to hear who you have been imagining this whole time
3 notes · View notes
bcdrawsandwrites · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
[ID: A Bad Things Happen Bingo card. Various prompts are marked with a half-brain symbol, while the “This Is for Your Own Good” specifically is marked with a full brain symbol. /end ID]
OKAY! So here’s my first fic for my second @badthingshappenbingo​​ challenge!
Note that at the time of my posting this, I am still open for requests--if you want to request something from me, please go to the post linked in my pinned post and read the rules!
This one was requested by @wulverarctos​​!
Tumblr media
[ID: A Psychonauts fanfic banner on a black-to-gray gradient background. On the left in white text it says “Prompt #1: This Is for Your Own Good.” On the right is an animated yellow figment of Loboto’s teddybear with a pair of electroshock electrodes (which look vaguely like a pair of headphones with a wire coming off the top center) on his head. /end ID]
Prompt: This Is for Your Own Good Characters: Fred Bonaparte & Caligosto Loboto, pre-Psychonauts (orderly!Fred and patient!Loboto) Warnings: Choking, discussion of electroshock therapy
---~~~---
Cool air whistled through the open windows at the end of the hallway, the moon outside providing the faintest illumination in the otherwise dark asylum. The weighty, metal flashlight Fred wielded could have brought more light, but he knew from experience there wasn't much to see. He'd walked these halls more than enough times to be able to do it blindfolded.
Stopping by the last door, he peered through the small slot. Once again, thanks to the clear night, he was able to tell just from the meager light shining through the windows that each patient in the room was in their respective bed. One was tossing and turning, but she was still on her bed and under the sheets.
Fred wished he could say the same for himself. He covered his mouth, letting out a muted yawn. He was done with his nightly rounds now, at least, so it wouldn't be long now for him.
Strolling to the end of the hall, he ducked down to peer through the window. At first he smiled up at the clear night sky, only for his brows to knit when he realized just why so much light was pouring into the hallway.
A full moon.
The hair raised on the back of his neck, and he shuddered, straightening his back. Years ago he'd laughed off the whole "things happen on the night of a full moon" saying as superstition... and then he'd become an orderly.
But nothing had happened tonight—nothing yet, anyway. Every patient who wasn't scheduled for treatment was in their bed, and the asylum was peaceful.
...Well, if you ignored the constant creaking of the building, the squeaking of stretcher wheels, and the occasional moan and groan from one or seven of the patients at any given time. But those didn't count.
Fred breathed in the night air and nodded. Yes, it was a perfectly normal night—the moon just happened to be full, that was all. And he'd finished his duties for tonight, so finally he could get some shut-eye and—
A shriek pierced straight through the asylum, up from the lower floors, causing Fred to jump so high he nearly hit the ceiling. A cacophony of shouts and yells immediately followed, and Fred took half a second to let out an exasperated whine.
So much for sleep.
Any more self-pitying could wait. He was right by the stairwell, and his long legs made quick work of it, carrying him down toward the source of the noise. But the second he realized just where it was originating from, he screwed up his face.
Not here.
Steeling himself, he opened the door and ducked through it, only to reel back and bash his head against the frame at the sight before him.
"LET GO! LET GO!"
"Get him off!"
Within the cramped room with its single bed, desk, and an electroconvulsive therapy machine were a doctor, three nurses, and a patient that Fred was all too familiar with. The patient was in a strait jacket and a shower cap, and the doctor and two of the nurses were trying and failing to pull him away from the third nurse, whose hand the patient was biting down onto. Fred didn't need to ask a single question to know why this had occurred.
The doctor, seeing Fred rubbing the back of his head in the doorway, growled through gritted teeth, "Bonaparte! Do something!"
"I-I got it, I got it—" he stammered, taking a half step further into the cramped room. Immediately the patient swung his weird mechanical eyes up toward him, his brow furrowed, red and green lights clashing with the dim yellow bulb overhead, daring Fred to oppose him.
Fred glanced back at the ECT machine, swallowing. He knew this was a standard treatment, but he also couldn't blame any patients for being resistant to it. Still, he shook his head and fixed the patient with a firm gaze. "Let her go, Caligosto. You know we've told you not to bite anyone!"
Caligosto's brow furrowed further, and he let out a muffled snarl like an angry dog. He had the capacity to act civil when he wanted to—Fred had seen it probably more than any of the other staff—but when it came to treatment...
Bending his knees until he was eye level, Fred leaned closer to the patient. He had to squint in the light of those weird eyes, but he hoped it made him look more intimidating. As much as he hated his patients to see him that way, in this case, it had to be done. "Caligosto, let her go, right now!"
It worked, but of course, not in the way Fred would have hoped.
With a grunt, Caligosto yanked his head back, teeth ripping over the poor woman's hand. She shrieked and pulled her hand back, looking for something to sterilize it with, while the patient snickered through gritted teeth, his mouth stretched into a manic grin.
Fred sighed, raising himself back up. That was over, at least—
The nurse gasped.
"M-my ring—!"
As she was speaking, there was a deep gulp from Caligosto.
Fred, the doctor, and all three nurses stared down at the patient before looking back up at each other.
This was going to be one of those nights, wasn't it.
At first Caligosto grinned smugly up at the nurse, only for his brows to raise and his face to start losing color. His chest gave a heave, only to halt partway through, and his eyes began to flicker. His arms frantically pulled at their restraints as his throat convulsed in a choked gag.
The doctor spat out a curse, yanking Caligosto off the bed and pulling him up against himself. Immediately the patient began to kick his long legs, nearly causing the doctor to lose his grip, and Fred knelt near Caligosto again.
"Stay still, he's gonna help you," Fred explained in a gentle, hushed voice.
Caligosto's eyes twitched over in Fred's direction shakily, but he stopped squirming, allowing the doctor to jam his hands against his gut. It took a few tries, but finally the patient hacked up the ring, which splatted in a coating of saliva and mucus against the bed. The patient's legs buckled, and he hung his head, wheezing.
"Finally," the doctor grunted. Fred nodded in agreement and was about to turn away when the doctor continued: "Maybe he'll be a bit more compliant now."
Fred froze, then turned to assess the situation again. His coworkers were all staring darkly at the patient, whose eyes were dim and flickering and whose face was panicked, his breaths coming in short gasps.
"H-hang on." Fred held up his hands, hunching his shoulders. "I think he's had enough for tonight. M-maybe we should postpone the treatment for now."
The doctor stared up at Fred for a long moment, bushy eyebrows furrowed, before he let out a growl, shoving the patient in Fred's direction. "Fine. Get him back to his room, then, Bonaparte. We'll schedule the treatment for another date."
Caligosto stumbled into Fred, who awkwardly caught him. "Uh—y-yessir," he replied, turning around to move the patient out of the tiny room.
Just as he moved Caligosto through the doorway, however, the doctor grabbed the back of Fred's shirt and yanked him back, hissing into his ear: "You will do something to break him of that biting habit."
Wincing, Fred nodded, and the doctor let him go.
Finally out of that hellish place, Fred placed a hand on his patient's back and guided him toward the stairwell. "C'mon, Caligosto, let's get you to bed."
As they began mounting the stairs, Caligosto's eyes swung in Fred's direction, flashing. "Postpone?" he croaked, his throat raw.
Fred cringed. "I know you don't like it, but it is treatment." When his patient's eyes tipped downward toward his feet, Fred ducked down closer to him. "It is. It's supposed to help you get better."
The eyes snapped back toward him again. "Have you ever seen a patient get better?"
The question caught him off guard, and he nearly tripped up the stairs. "N-not yet, but it can take a while for treatments to work!"
"...they thought so with my first one, too," came a low rasp.
Fred's head snapped back over to Cailgosto, his eyes wide, but his patient's head was hanging again. Curiosity tugged at the back of Fred's brain, but he didn't want to bother his patient any more tonight than he already had to. They said nothing as they mounted the last few flights of stairs, up to the individual room where Caligosto was kept. He was one of the patients that needed a room of his own, as he was prone to conducting… dentistry on any roommate he was given.
Once at the room, Fred produced a set of keys and unlocked the door, not missing the look of relief on Caligosto's face as he stepped into the room and sank down onto the bed. He was staring eagerly at the worn teddy bear that sat propped up against his pillow, and squirmed his arms against their restraints.
At first Fred went to untie the restraints as usual, but the doctor's words ran through his mind again, and he stopped himself. "...Caligosto, before I go, I need to talk to you about something."
Caligosto groaned. "What is it?" he whined, swiveling his eyes to look up at him. "I'm tired."
Fred drew in a breath. "You can't keep biting people."
"Oh, but I can!" Caligosto tipped his head, flashing a smile, his yellow teeth gleaming in the moonlight.
"You can't, though. I know you don't like the treatments we have to do, but it's for your own good."
"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" Caligosto's smile widened, his eyes glowing brighter. "Anything those silly doctors tell you."
Blood rushed to Fred's face. "Th-the doctors know what they're doing!"
"My father was a doctor, until he wasn't." His eyes took on a wicked glint. "None too bright, if you ask me!"
Fred nearly asked why, when it dawned on him the moniker Caligosto went by before he'd been apprehended: Doctor Loboto. It wasn't exactly hard to put two-and-two together to figure out why his father would no longer be in the medical field.
"...These doctors aren't your father," he said instead. "They want you to get better... and I do, too."
Something about the way he'd said it seemed to catch Caligosto off-guard. His patient's smile faded, and he shut his mouth, his mechanical eyes scanning the floor.
Fred moved in closer, sitting next to him on the bed and placing a hand on his patient's shoulder. "That's why you've got to trust us, Caligosto."
But Caligosto shook his head, standing up. "N-no!" he cried. "You don't understand—you don't know what that does do you—"
"You're right; I don't." Fred stared at him firmly. "But they do."
"No they don't, you toothless numbskull!" his patient snarled, stamping his foot and leaning close to his face. "You know what you are—you're—you're a smiling doormat in front of a torture chamber—!"
Anger bolted down his spine, enough for him to spring to his feet. "Now that's enough!" he snapped. "No more of that, Caligosto, do you understand? No more biting, at least—"
"You'd bite too, if you knew what that treatment did!"
Fred drew in a breath, trying to calm himself down; arguing with a patient never ended well. "Okay, so what does it do?"
"I don't know!" Caligosto wailed, stepping back. "I-I can't remember—it's made me forget things, but I don't remember what I'm forgetting, and, and—!"
Ah, right. Slowly the anger drained from Fred's chest, and some of the tension left his shoulders. "That's just a side-effect, Caligosto," he said gently. "It'll pass, don't worry."
"But it won't! It hasn't! I still can't remember what it made me forget…!"
"Well..." Fred glanced aside. "Let me put it this way: if you stop fighting with the doctors, they won't give you that treatment as often, and you'll recover even faster." He looked up, giving Caligosto an encouraging smile. "How's that sound?"
But Caligosto shook his head, taking several steps back. "No, no, I won't! They can't!"
Fred heaved a sigh; Caligosto was never the easiest patient to deal with. "I didn't want to have to do this," he muttered, scanning the room.
His eyes fell upon the teddy bear sitting on the bed.
Caligosto followed his gaze, and gave a jolt of panic. He was fast, but Fred was faster, snatching the bear off the bed. "NO!" the patient wailed, crashing against the bed. He was quick to scramble back upright, teeth bared in a frantic snarl as he rushed at Fred. "Give him back!"
Bracing himself against the door frame, Fred held the teddy bear away while lifting up one of his legs, catching Caligosto underneath his bound arms and gently pushing him back. He fixed his patient with a firm look. "No, Caligosto. You know the rules. If you can't behave, you get personal item privileges taken away."
"N-not that," Caligosto cried, pushing against Fred's leg desperately. "Please, please—"
"Then you have to agree to stop biting. Stop fighting with the doctors and nurses!"
But Caligosto only wailed again, his legs scrambling as he tried to get closer. In spite of Fred's efforts to keep him away, he managed to push Fred's leg back, getting closer to the teddy. As his arms weren't free to grab it, he opened his mouth, as though attempting to snag it in his teeth.
"No, Caligosto. I'm sorry for this." With a swift kick he sent his patient stumbling backwards and crashing back into his bed. As Caligosto struggled to sit up right, Fred lowered his leg and stared at the teddy in his hands, noticing that one of its button-eyes was on the verge of falling off. "With your biting habit, the eyes on this thing wouldn't be safe for you, anyway."
Caligosto let out a choked noise, and Fred looked up in alarm. But he only sat on the edge of his bed, mechanical eyes dim and staring at nothing.
"...I'm sorry, Caligosto," he said, and stepped out of the room, locking the door behind him.
The creaks and groans of the tower and its residents drowned out the choked sob behind him.
He really should have gone to bed, but the curiosity that itched at the back of his brain wasn't going to let him sleep.
(Nor was the weight in his chest, but he wasn't going to think about that right now.)
Fred kept the teddy bear tucked under his arm as he angled his flashlight down at the filing cabinet drawer, frowning as he used his free hand to flip through the folders. Larence... Linzy... Loboto. There it was! After retrieving the folder, he opened it atop the drawer, scanning over the records. Many of them were recent treatments he'd had, but Fred looked further, past the papers signed by Houston Thorney.
There.
There was a record from a hospital on the other side of the country, the copied ink faded and hard to read. But it was from at least a decade ago, and seemed to be a record of a specialized procedure, of a...
A shudder wracked Fred's spine, and he shut the folder, shoved it back into the drawer, and slid it closed. He stared blankly at the filing cabinet for a moment, then found himself looking down at the teddy bear, and gave a start.
The lopsided button eyes of the bear stared back at him, and for the first time he noticed the patch between them, covering the top of the bear's head.
He'd heard of the procedure. It was only done in extreme cases, but it was supposed to be effective. Wasn't it? Yet here Caligosto was, years later, in a mental institution.
Fred shook his head, clutching the teddy bear close.
"Don't worry, Caligosto. We'll be the ones to help you... I just know it."
59 notes · View notes
jungkxook · 4 years ago
Text
—make it right. (m)
Tumblr media
��� pairing: jungkook x reader 
⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut
⟶ words: 11,528
⟶ rating: 18+ 
⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too
⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex
⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!
⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!
Tumblr media
You swear you’re over Jungkook.
In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 
As it turns out, it hardly works.
Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.
You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.
And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.
“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.
It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.
You hear his voice first.
It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.
At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.
Now, you hate it.
It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.
“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.
“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”
“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”
“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”
“Yoongi, right?”
“Yeah━”
As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.
“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”
“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”
“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.
“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.
“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”
Suddenly, you feel sick.
It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.
“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.
You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.
You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.
The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?
Tumblr media
“So, what are you trying to say?”
You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.
It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.
You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.
“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.
“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”
He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”
You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”
“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”
“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”
This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”
You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.
“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 
He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.
“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”
His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.
“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”
“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”
Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.
“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”
His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.
“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”
“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”
“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”
“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”
“That’s not true,” You admonished.
“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.
“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”
Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.
“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”
You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…
Tumblr media
The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.
Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.
You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.
The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.
“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.
“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”
“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”
He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.
“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”
“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”
And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━
“Y/N?”
There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.
This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.
As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.
“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.
It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.
Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”
You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”
His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”
You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.
“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”
“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”
“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”
His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”
Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.
“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.
Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”
“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”
“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.
“Promise?”
You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”
His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”
“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.
“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”
You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?
So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.
The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.
But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.
Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.
You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.
You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.
“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”
The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”
Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.
Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”
“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”
Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”
But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?
Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.
But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.
As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”
“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”
He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.
“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”
You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”
It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”
You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”
A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.
“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”
When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.
“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”
“Jungkook…”
“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”
Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”
As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”
But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”
“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”
His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”
Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”
You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”
“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.
“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”
But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.
“Y/N…”
“Good luck out there.”
Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.
He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.
After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.
“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”
Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.
“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”
Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.
“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”
“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”
Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.
“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”
As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.
Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.
Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.
Tumblr media
That night, you can’t sleep.
You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.
When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.
“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”
You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.
“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”
Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”
“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”
“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”
“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”
“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”
Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”
Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.
“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”
He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.
“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”
There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.
“Kiss me, Jungkook.”
And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.
Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”
It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”
His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.
Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.
“It’s been so long,” he sighs.
You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”
Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.
“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”
Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.
“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”
“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”
“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”
You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.
“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”
You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.
As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”
“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.
He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”
“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”
Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.
“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”
“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”
He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.
Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”
Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.
“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”
He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.
“Ooh, Jungkook━”
The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.
His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.
“That’s not fair,” you whine.
“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”
You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.
“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”
“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.
“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”
“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”
“Fuck, okay. Okay━”
He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.
“Oh, shit,” he grunts.
He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.
“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”
Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.
At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”
You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.
It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.
“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.
He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.
Then, the room falls silent.
Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.
“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.
It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."
“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 
“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”
“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”
“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”
You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 
“Do you really mean all that?”
“With my whole heart.”
And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.
You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.
While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.
Tumblr media
⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 
⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!
6K notes · View notes
hotwings0203 · 3 years ago
Text
The Middle Ground
*Deep breath*
Woo. Okay. First of all I would like to thank everyone for 400 freaking followers. That is seriously so insane to me, I mean I’ve only been on Tumblr for like half a year.
This piece is a contribution to @bakugosbratx ‘s collaboration. It has around 40k words in total, so it’s my longest piece yet. Because Tumblr formatting is shit, I have provided an Ao3 link in case you like the chapter setup better there. I hope you all enjoy, and please please heed the warnings ahead!
Pairing: Bully!Fiance!Touya x F reader
Summary: You've been friends with Tenko Shimura for as long as you can remember...but when you're forced into an arranged marriage with Dabi, that friendship is put to a test.
TW: Noncon, bullying, language, Dabi and Hawks are scumbags, gangbang, graphic depictions of violence, gang violence, arranged marriage
Tags: @hi--rubi @bakugosbratx
https://archiveofourown.org/works/31747549
Touya Todoroki kicks out his legs and slumps into the limo seat. A permanent scowl has inhabited his petulant expression, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by his glaring father and uncomfortable family. It isn’t like he wanted to be here anyway, what were they expecting? Especially when they were practically planning out his whole life’s demise right in front of his eyes.
 Think he’s being dramatic?
 Try putting yourself in his shoes for a second: after being hounded by his ape-like father to put some hair gel on and to ‘take out those fiendish piercings, you look like a hooligan,’ he was also forced into a suit that felt more like a straight jacket. Worst of all, he had to keep a straight posture.
 It was complete, utter torture for the young rogue.
 Only after stalking and lurking around his mother for the entire day did Touya have it revealed to him that the place he had to dress up like a prissy for was none other than the house of who he was going to be betrothed to.
 Once the bomb was dropped, all hell broke loose in the Todoroki house not like that was anything new, merely hours away from leaving to greet the parents-in-law.
 “Is this a fucking joke? You people weren’t even gonna tell me where we were going until I had to beg like a dog!” Touya raged with balled-up fists, smoke curling from his elbows and shins as he stood in his parents’ room and interrogated his mother.
 “Language, Touya!” An exasperated Rei Todoroki sighed while ironing her and Fuyumi’s dresses. “You’re of age to get married, and you’re an adult now- you knew this was bound to happen soon.”
 “Come on, Touya, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll like her; her family is really well known in hero society for hosting the annual hero galas.” Fuyumi leaned against the doorframe behind her irate brother with her arms crossed, peering disappointedly at him from over the bridge of her glasses. “I’m pretty sure her parents even work in the Hero Commission headquarters, and as for the girl, I’ve heard so many good things about her from-”
 “I don’t give a damn about some elitist brat who I’m gonna have to coddle. And I’m still in school, I’m not licensed yet.” Touya snapped at both the women, Fuyumi rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she walked away. Rei let out another heavy sigh and finished up her meticulous ironing.
 “I just don’t understand why in the hell you’d tell me on the day of us meeting them, like why couldn’t I have a heads up?”
“Because then we’d have to put up with your little tantrums even more in advance. Plus, it's not like us telling you earlier would’ve changed the decision or your reaction,” Natsuo called out from his room across the hall.
 “You know, she’s not some random gold digger. I’m fairly certain her family is more wealthy than us, and by uniting our families, we’ll both have many advantages in society and for a healthy bloodline-”
 But Shoto’s chiming in was cut off with the sound of choking from Natsuo drinking something at his last words. Touya didn’t appreciate his least favorite sibling’s unwanted opinion, especially when it was about the topic of banging some prissy chick.
 He let Shoto know what he thought of his comment by whipping around with a snarl and towering over the youngest Todoroki.
 Well, not really towering since Shoto was quickly catching up to Touya in terms of height, a fact that Touya loathed admitting.
 “You-” he jabbed a finger into the other’s firm chest, “-are the last person I wanna hear sex advice from, got it? I doubt a social degenerate like you would even get pussy anyways from the way you can barely understand a joke or social cues.” (“What did I say about language, Touya!”)
 Natsuo was positively howling now, and Shoto merely shrugged his brother’s scarred finger off as Touya kept advancing on him and spitting venom. Rei was desperately trying to quell the disaster waiting to happen by raising her voice slightly and telling all her boys to back off and calm down, but she was cut off by Fuyumi calling out to ask for her dress.
 “ENOUGH!” 
 All the other Todorokis simultaneously jumped when they heard his booming voice. Enji Todoroki appeared in front of his family, no doubt growing increasingly irritated by the pandemonium happening. He glared around at them all until his eyes landed on Touya, who grew quiet but still held a scowl on his face. Endeavor’s eyes narrowed as he approached his heir, and Touya subconsciously straightened up taller.
 “You can’t make me do this. We’ve never had one single conversation about the topic of marriage, and you think I’m just gonna give in on the night you planned to make me into some domestic schmuck? Were you even going to tell me yourself before we left?” Touya growled, maintaining eye contact with his brutish father.
 “You’ll do as I say, Touya. Your duty comes to your family before any wish of becoming a hero. You need to stop acting like a delinquent, and a wife would do some good to tether you to reality-”
 “Oh, right, because you’d know all about how to be good to a family, right?” Touya burst out as he sneered and gestured to the scars littering his body.
 Even Natsuo had stopped snickering as the house grew deathly quiet. Fuyumi sucked in a soft inhale, Shoto simply stared while observing the spectacle in front of him, and Rei was stock-still.
 Endeavor didn’t back down from his son’s impertinence, however. Instead, he stepped forward until both men were chest-to-chest and looked at Touya straight into his face, purposely neglecting to ponder on the way his son’s lip trembled and his eyes twitched as if he wanted to rub them. He knew if he saw Touya as the pouty seven year old he once was and loved, he would give in.
 “You will do what I ask. Do not embarrass our family or me.”
 Touya’s jaw clenched as he tried to stare his father down, but after a couple of painstakingly long moments he finally looked away. Everyone let out their breaths and started to get their coats. That was that.
 End of discussion.
 Unbeknownst to him, however, he wasn’t the only one who had been saddled with this news recently.
 Your parents might not have told you on the day of said guests coming over, but you weren’t given an option to argue either.
 In fact, you were told so casually over dinner a few weeks ago that one would think you were the crazy one for “overreacting,” in the exact words of your parents to be more specific.
 “Honey, you’re almost done with your hero licensing school. It's about time you start thinking of your future asides from your job and internships,” your mother had gestured to you as her delicate hands picked up a wine glass.
 “Dad, seriously?” You asked in disbelief, fork suspended in midair. “I haven’t even graduated yet, plus you promised when I was done I could intern with you at the headquarters-!”
 But your father merely hummed disinterestedly as if the topic of your very imminent future could do with less talking and more of shoveling roast beef into his mouth.
 You incredulously turn to your mom, hoping for some reprieve.
 “I don’t even know his name. Who is he, and why did you choose him anyway?” you grouch, pouting and pushing the casserole on your plate around.
 “His name is Touya Todoroki, and he’s merely a year or two older than you. I’m sure you’ve heard of his father, Endeavor. He’s the number two hero, and I believe his other two children are closer to your age...Natsuo and Fuyumi? Their youngest son is Shoto, you must have seen his performance at the sports festival a little while ago.”
 “T-Touya?” You almost choke on your asparagus when you hear his name. “Mom, I’ve seen him like, three times throughout the entirety of me being at that school. And I heard he’s a complete menace too! He’s got a reputation, him and his stupid friends. I know for a fact they’ve been giving Tenko a hard time for the past year for no reason.”
 You’re not lying either. You’ve seen the intimidating black-haired boy skulking around some of your classes with his cronies in tow. It wasn’t like he shirked off his grades or anything; you were fairly certain he was pretty smart...when he tried, that is. When he wasn’t ditching class and giving his teachers a hard time, you usually saw him push your best friend Tenko Shimura around. This included shoving the quiet boy down the stairs, clapping him over the head a little too hard to be passed off as friendly, and childishly throwing spitballs and other trash at the back of his head. Fortunately, you’d never had the pleasure of meeting his highness personally, and so far, you’d been secretly grateful for only picking up his binders and homework off the floor of Tenko’s aftermath attacks rather than bearing the full brunt of Touya’s abuse. You weren’t even sure he knew you existed, and to be frank, you’d like to keep it that way.
 However, it seemed as though your parents didn’t share the same sentiments.
 Your father finally decided to give his piece, which wasn’t in your favor, surprise surprise.
 “A sturdy family, they are. We’ve invited them for dinner two weeks from now, so you better curb that attitude of yours well before they arrive. Our decision is final.”
 You stay quiet, opting not to argue any further and upset your parents. To be honest, you weren’t known to be too rebellious or spoiled for that matter. You were a straightforward child- you got good grades, you didn’t trouble yourself or your parents with any drama or school nonsense, and you put up a good family name when in the presence of outsiders. To say that you and your parents were joined at the hip would be a bit of a stretch, though. You simply did what they asked, and they rewarded you with anything you wanted. Nothing more and nothing less. It’s not like they forced you to do anything unreasonable except getting married to some degenerate, so you usually followed pursuit. 
 So, instead of causing a scene at the dinner table, you finish up your food, clear the table, and stomp upstairs in the sanctuary of your room. You flop on the bed, and just for good measure you pummel a pillow in front of you.
 This can’t be happening, you groan to yourself.
 After a couple of minutes of finishing your tantrum, you decide to call Tenko. He was definitely someone who’d share the same disdain for the name Touya Todoroki.
 You dial his number, and after a couple of rings he finally picked up.
 “Y/N? What’s up?”
 It takes less than 5 minutes for you to explain your ordeal, and he’s quiet for a few moments.
 “Tenko? You there?”
 “Yeah, yeah I’m still here,” he says slowly.
 “Well? What do you think?” You urge, needing him to reassure you you weren’t being unreasonable for not wanting an arranged marriage with some psycho delinquent, family name or not.
 “I mean, obviously it sucks ass, and I wouldn’t wanna get saddled with Tou-yuck as a fiance,” you giggle at the absurd nickname and he shares a low chuckle too. “But...I don’t know, I mean I kinda expected you to sound more upset about it.”
 “Don’t get me wrong, of course I'm pissed, man. But what the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t really argue my way out of this, and even if I did, it would be so awkward between our families since his dad and my parents work so closely at the HC. I don’t think there's any way to properly react to this,” you finish helplessly, biting your lip.
 “Whatever. Just don’t expect me to throw rose petals and rice at him when he shoves me into the lockers after school,” Tenko says dryly, and you can’t help but scoff.
 “As if. Y’know, maybe that actually is a silver lining in all this. If we get engaged or whatever during the school year he might just go easy on you if he knows we’re friends.”
 “Hmm yeah, maybe we’ll hold hands and throw each other picnics too while we’re at it!” You can practically hear his eye roll over the phone. “Speaking of prince charming, what are you gonna wear when they come?”
 Which brings you back to now.
 T-minus 30 minutes until the Todorokis make their appearance through your front door.
 As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, there was no mistaking the butterflies in your stomach. You had adorned a warm knee-length dress to match the snow outside yet still look cute, meticulously done your hair in an up-do with some strands framing your face and light makeup. Your goal wasn’t to impress anyone but rather show the best natural side of you so that if any part of you wasn’t satisfactory to what met the Todorokis’ eye, they could still back out.
 You stand in front of the mirror and tilt your head slightly, assessing yourself. You look straight at your reflection and practice your bow. After feeling confident in your preparation, you decide to send a quick picture of yourself to Tenko to get his opinion.
 6:40: Looks okay?
 Not even two minutes later as you’re lacing up your flats does his notification pop up on your screen, and you smile at his punctuality.
 Ten-ten: You look great.👍 Don’t freak out okay? It’s not like anyone’s opinion should matter, especially not Tou-yuck’s
 6:45: Ugh, you’re right. Idk why I feel like I’m gonna throw up
 6:46: Oh fuck I think I hear their car
 Wait oh my god it's a limo wtf??
 When your parents call you down to greet the guests, you toss your phone on the bed and hobble across the room to close your lights and door. You don’t see the three dots coming up and disappearing as Tenko Shimura deletes the message of ‘actually, you look beautiful’ after reading your answer.
 ***************
 You frantically straighten out your dress and wipe your sweaty palms on your knees as you stand behind your parents when they open the door.
 First comes in the big man himself, a towering build of brute force and a stoic aura surrounding his presence. His brows are furrowed, but he doesn’t look angry. Your father and Enji shake hands and clap each other on their backs as your family moves back to make space for the rest of the family to enter. A woman you assume to be Rei shakes off the snow from her shoes before stepping inside the threshold, and when you make eye contact and greet her she smiles demurely at you.
 It warms your heart, much to your chagrin.
 Then, all time seems to stop as you see his shadow step in before he does. Your heart skips a beat or two and the wind swirls around him, causing snowflakes to latch onto his figure and obscure his face for a moment. 
 But when he fully comes into view, it does nothing to calm your heart that seems to be slamming against your ribcage.
 The white snowflakes blend into his porcelain-colored hair, which sticks out in little tufts although you could’ve sworn he had black hair at school…?. Dark purple patches cover underneath his eyes and the lower half of his face, along with small staples that seem to hold the skin up. However, his eyes are what captivate you the most, a bright turquoise that scrutinizes you under the glare of fluorescent lights.
 You freeze like a deer in headlights, hesitating a fraction of a second before bowing hastily to make up for the pause. Touya scoffs slightly before barely tilting his head and averting his eyes to your mother, who is ushering the rest of the family inside to the living room. Natsuo, Fuyumi, and Shoto follow after their eldest brother, all of them bowing more respectfully than the first sibling and giving you small smiles and waves.
 You trail behind to close the door, wanting to stall as long as possible before the inevitable bonding. As you turn from shutting the dark mahogany, you catch your dad’s eyes as he turns as well and you blanch obviously- needless to say, he isn’t amused and sends you a warning glare. 
 Taking a deep breath in a poor attempt to still your nerves, you walk as gracefully as you can to the living room, one foot in front of the other. As expected, when you cross into the area all light conversation stops as you reach a seat in one of the white leather loveseats. You can acutely feel Rei and Enji’s eyes especially trained on you as they observe their future daughter-in-law and her mannerisms. Luckily, your parents have given you years of practice in public events on how to act like the perfect little lady.
 Poised, calm, and collected, you recall the main attributes your parents had always said elders look for.
 “Y/N, was it? I believe you and Touya go to the same school?” Rei speaks up after you settle comfortably, and you can’t help but notice that although their family is known for ice cold or burning hot quirks, her voice reminds you of a good medium between the two; it sounds like springtime, a transition itself.
 You fidget uncomfortably before answering. “Yes ma'am, I think so. I might have seen him around the halls, and we may have had classes once or twice…” but you trail off as Touya coughs loudly, and rudely. He turns his head to look away from you not-so-subtly and the room temperature rises a few degrees as Endeavor’s mustache begins to flame. He glares at his son, but Touya stubbornly stares at the floor with an obvious scowl on his face.
 Well fuck you, too, you think as your smile begins to strain.
 Desperately, Fuyumi tries to fill in the silence by asking a follow up question.
 “Um, Y/N, what are you studying? Touya’s trying to get officially licensed at school so he can skip internships and just head straight to dad’s agency after he graduates.”
 “Well, since I don’t have a quirk I’m not doing any of the training courses, but my parents have some networks in the Hero Commision. Ultimately I decided to go into Department of Management and General Studies-”
 “Wait, you don’t have a quirk?” Touya surprisingly bursts out, eyes bulging out of their sockets. His voice is deep and grating, as if he spent his early days being a chainsmoker.
 “No, I don’t.” You say without missing a beat, increasingly getting a good feel of what type of person your fiance is and his possible superiority complex. “But as I was saying, even though I wasn’t born with a quirk I know I can succeed after my parents in aiding the Hero Commission and the annual galas. If I get licensed after graduation, I can kind of follow the same path as you in terms of skipping all the internships and stuff and get straight to work. Y’know, helping out in the foundations of future heroes is just as important as being an actual hero,” You say proudly as you stare straight at Touya.
 Your parents and a majority of the Todorokis nod in agreement, and the only one who doesn’t seem to share the same values as you rolls his eyes and mumbles under his breath.
 After that nice little ice breaker and a couple of other meaningless conversations between the other siblings and you, your mother finally decides to call in for dinner.
 You breathe out a sigh of relief and stand, your dress riding up your thighs for a moment as you get up. Out of the corner of your eye you see Touya glance momentarily at your slightly exposed legs before sliding up your body and finally meeting your eyes. He catches you staring and gives you a knowing smirk. Your face lights on fire and you look around to make sure no one is watching before you flip him the bird.
 He actually laughs, and you grimace as the butterflies in your stomach come back to life and travel up your throat.
 Natsuo turns around curiously to see the source of his brother’s rare gravely laugh. When he sees you both emerging out of the room at the same time, he flashes you a lopsided grin, very much akin to his brother’s.
 You shake your head, trying to quell the rising smile on your face as you take a seat at the marble table. Everyone finds their own chair, and much to your surprise Touya takes one right across from you. Whether or not it's a coincidence, you don’t want to get your hopes up.
 Chatter resumes as both sets of parents talk about recent hero news and the missions funded by the headquarters. Shoto and Fuyumi ladle takoyaki and ramen into their bowls while Touya picks at the miniscule helping of the other assortments and kaiseki on his glass plate. You decide to wait until everyone has finished taking food until you start digging in just to be polite, a fact that Natsuo pipes up on.
 “You don’t have to wait for us to finish y’know, we’ll just end up keep waiting on each other out of guilt.” he says kindly.
 “Oh, no worries. I just wanted to make sure you guys took enough-” but you’re cut off for the second time that evening by the same person, and it takes every ounce of self restraint you have not to dump the ramen bowl on his white hair.
 “Yeah, I mean we already know you’re so uptight, no need to shove it in our faces,” Touya rumbles and Natsuo swats his arm as he glances at you apologetically.
 “Sorry about him, he’s got a warped sense of humor.”
 “It’s fine, I get it. Some people just think they’re better ‘cuz of unseen reasons,even with lame quirks,” you snipe and you hear Shoto subtly snort into his cup.
 Touya’s nostrils flare and his forearm erupts in light blue flames. Endeavor and your parents are staring at you both, and it's not just his flames that warms your face.
 But Fuyumi, along with her ice quirk, seems to know just how to cool everyone down again.
 “Y/N, have you ever helped your parents out in any of the HC events?” she takes your hand in hers, and even though you expect cold palms, all you feel radiating off of her is warmth. She seemed to be saying I’m sorry about him.
 So for the time being, you decid to grit your teeth and bear it. It’s not like your parents were even pretending to care about his shitty attitude either, so why should you give in any more?
 “Yes, I have actually. A couple of months ago my parents were the sponsors of the annual Hero Gala, and I was the one who sent out the invitations to all the heroes and ensured their attendance. I even got to invite Gran Torino!” You can’t help but say animatedly-no matter how juvenile your excitement is, being in contact with pro-heroes was always exhilarating and nerve-wrecking.
 Hench the massive pools of sweat gathering under your armpits.
 And finally the youngest speaks up.
 “So out of all the heroes you’ve talked to or helped, which one’s your favorite?”
 “Uhhh probably Midnight, she's just so badass...and I won’t lie, she's pretty hot too,” you blush and Natuso whoops at the flush in your cheeks. Fuyumi laughs and agrees wholeheartedly, and even Shoto lets out a small smile Touya continues to pick at his sashimi as if no one had spoken.
  You marveled at how at home the Todoroki siblings make you feel, even in your own house. They went well together, and fill in the gaps where the other lacked.
 Too bad the same couldn’t be said for the one you were destined to marry.
 Nevertheless, the rest of the evening went by without any more mishaps or interruptions, thankfully. You and Rei had a couple of conversations too, about school and winter and what you liked to do in your free time. Even Enji spared a minute, but it wasn’t so much of a conversation as it was just a gruff ‘I hear from your father that you’re doing well in school. I might hire you at my agency if you surpass the other students’, and a meek ‘yessir, I’ll try my hardest’ from you. 
 When it was time to leave, you hugged Fuyumi and shook Natuso and Shoto’s hands along with giving proper bows to Rei and Enji. Only Touya was left, and you’d be damned if you made the first move of civility towards him. You settled for a little bow, peering up at him through your lashes. He mimicked the same motion he did when he first entered, a pathetic little head tilt that you assumed to be the world's worst impersonation of a bow. 
 But his eyes never left yours, and you couldn’t decipher the unreadable emotion swirling in his blue orbs as he watched your figure bend and lift again. Whatever it was, it didn’t exactly scream proper from the way he allowed his gaze to drop to your chest and thighs not-so-subtly. You shot him a glare and he met you with a sneer before whirling around to bid farewell to your parents.
 When the door finally shuts, your parents let out a sigh of relief and turn to you.
 “Well, what did you think? Wasn’t their family darling? Oh and Touya was so easy on the eyes too, I don’t think you’ll have any problems getting along with each other,” Your mother babbles incessantly, completely oblivious to you gawking at her.
 Is she serious? He acted like a total douche to me all night!
 “I agree with your mother. He seems like a solid young man and I know for a fact he’ll make a great husband. Now, Enji gave me Touya’s number and I gave him yours, so you should expect a text from Touya soon. It’s just a formality to overcome, and in addition I want you to let him know we were glad to host him and his family.” Your dad raises his eyebrows expectantly, and you groan, slapping a hand to your face.
 “Okay sure, whatever.” Your dad pulls out his phone and you watch glumly as he texts the number to you.
 “I’ll text him later, ‘gotta talk to Ten first,” you mutter as you begin bounding up the stairs.
 “No Y/N, you’ll do it now. Otherwise, no talking to Tenko. You need to start putting your fiance first instead of any other man.”
 You grit your teeth to prevent screaming and make a show of spinning on your heel to face your dad. Smashing your thumbs against the screen, you tap out a curt ‘Hey, this is Y/N. I got your number from my dad, just wanted to say thanks for coming over tonight.’
 Oh yeah. Tenko better not have any plans tonight, ‘cuz boy is he gonna get an earful of this evening’s events.
 *********
 Ping
 Touya’s phone buzzes in his hand, and the screen lights up the dark interior of the limo. He squints at the notification, and after seeing your name he scoffs disbelievingly.
 “Is it her?” Fuyumi asks excitedly.
 “Jesus, keep your fucking voice down, are you trying to announce it to mom?” Touya hisses, and rolls his eyes at his sister’s pout.
 All his siblings start clamoring over their seatbelts and each other’s shoes as they try to grab his phone to read the message he received, and it's all Touya can do to curse and ward them off by waving an inflamed arm towards their outreached grubby hands (thankfully Fuyumi easily distinguished his flames with a flick of her wrist, with a rather annoyed look on her face).
 By the time the Todorokis reach their house it's late and everyone stumbles inside, eager for warmth and a good shower. 
 But not Touya. 
 As soon as the limo is parked he slips off the driveway and trudges off the stone path to his own destination, quickly shooting his friend a text.
 “Touya?” he hears his brother calling to him from the lit up path of the driveway. “You comin’ or what?”
 “No, I’ll be back in a bit. Just tell them I went to sleep early or something, and don’t let anyone in my room while I’m gone,” Touya mutters.
 Natsuo wrinkles his nose and stuffs his hands in his pockets, countering the defensive look the latter was giving.
 “...bring me back a cig?”
 “Hell no, go the fuck inside, its freezing out here.” Touya snickers, and both boys laugh before heading off in their own ways.
 It takes Touya approximately 15 minutes to slink in and out of the shadows to reach the abandoned bar that resides outside the main city. He kicks a broken beer bottle out of the entrance and checks in the dark for a lack of presence before reaching behind the bar counter and fishing around the platform for-
 Bingo
 He omits a tiny blue spark out of his index finger as he slides into a barstool and lights the cigarette. Taking a long drag of the substance, he tilts his head back and closes his eyes as he exhales the fumes into the empty darkness.
 “Goddamn, just ‘cuz you’re immune to fire doesn’t mean we all are Touya,” a suave voice emerges from behind the counter.
 Not so empty after all, then.
 A dim light switches on and Touya squints to locate the source of the familiar sound. Red fills his vision as his friend’s wings spread, and he zooms in on the roguishly handsome face belonging to Keigo Takami.
 AKA Hawks.
 The blond makes an obnoxious show of coughing and waving the smoke away, and Touya merely takes another long puff just to blow it into Keigo’s face again.
 “So, how’d it go?” He asks, using his wings to wave the offensive fumes away from his pretty face.
 Touya shrugs and folds his arms on the counter, letting his head nestle on the cool granite. He closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of questions that was bound to come his way any minute.
 “Oh come on, don’t give me that bull, man. She can’t have been that bad right?”
“Her parents work for the HC. Maybe you should marry her instead,” Dabi shoots his friend a dark look and Keigo raises his hands in a guilty gesture. It was no secret that aside from their incognito vandalism and delinquency, the winged boy had plans to become a great hero at the heart of the HC itself.
 “Yeah well, regardless of who seals the deal, either way that’s another good, ah, network for me to know.” He snickers and Touya lazily thrusts a flaming hand at his head, which Keigo easily dodges.
 “This is serious man. I don’t wanna be some fucking homebody and raise a bunch of little shits along with having some bitch up my ass all the time.”
 “Is she hot at least?” Keigo presses, and Touya feels his eye twitch as his patience wears thinner by each word coming out of his mouth.
 “The fuck’s that got to do with any-? I mean, she was alright I guess, not too hard on the eyes…” he thinks for a moment before admitting, “she had sexy thighs, that's for sure. And an okay body overall.”
 Keigo whoops and claps Touya on the back, both of them grinning like madmen now.
 “That’s what I’m talking about, see now you’re getting the idea.”
 “And what’s that?” Touya turns to him fully now, intrigued as to how this could be for his benefit.
 “Look, you said she’s not too bad right? So that basically means you got full ownership of some hot chick, and you get to have full access to any records or information you want if she’s joined to the hip with some HC pawns.” The avian’s gold eyes flash and narrow as he thinks it over more.
 “This is a win win for you either way, and hey, if you make the missus your little bitch then maybe I get to reap some rewards too, huh?” He elbows Touya playfully.
 “Yeah...yeah that’s not a bad way of looking at it now that you mention it,” Keigo can practically see the gears turning in his friend’s head as he whips out his own phone.
 “What was her name again by the way? I just wanna see my dear sister-in-laws’ thighs myself,” He sneers as Touya quirks up the corners of his lip.
 “F/N? F/N L/N I think. God, she even texted me like, 10 minutes after we left. So fucking desperate,” Touya chuckles as he shows Keigo the message you sent.
 The blond’s wings ruffle behind him as he glances at Touya’s phone before thumbing through his own, checking each social media platform for any of your accounts. After a couple of seconds his eyes widen and he positively leers at the screen before shoving the device in the latter’s face.
 “Holy shit, I know this girl! Dude, you do too, we had like three classes with her before. I’m pretty sure she runs around with Rumi too. She’s uber smart, you had me thinking she’s some bimbo bitch, man. Oh, and she’s friends with Tenko by the way, just a lil’ heads up.”
 At the mention of the scrawny boy’s name, Touya snatches the phone from Keigo’s fingers and holds it mere inches away from his eyes so he could scan every part of you.
 “Tenko? Tenko Shimura? No fucking way, that guy’s a total tool. The hell is she doing hanging out with him?”
 “No idea, but I mean I’ve seen her hanging out with some other girls in the general department, so it’s not like she only knows him. Why, you’re not getting all protective and hubby-like on her already, right?” Keigo says slyly, thoroughly drinking in the way Touya’s eyes darken and his jaw clenches at such a blasphemic notion. It was so much fun to rile him up and not have to deal with the aftermath of his brash actions.
 “Fuck no. I just don’t want to be associated with a bitch who hangs around with pussies all day.”
 “Mm, yeah, I don’t think I could fuck with you either if he became some kind of sister-wife to you.”
 ********
Winter started to seep into spring, the transition being made evident by the arrival of cherry blossom trees blooming across the campus. New clothes were bought, markers and highlighters upgraded to reflect the new bright outside weather, and the students themselves were giddy to see each other after their winter break.
 You donned your white school uniform and fixed your tie in the mirror, opting to leave your hair down for the first day back.
 Ping
 Your phone’s screen lit up from the bed, and you grabbed it while slinging your bag over your shoulder.
 Ten-ten: I’m outside, bring me a bagel if you can. Dad was being an asshole so I skipped breakfast
 8:20: Gotcha, I’ll be out in 5
 Thundering downstairs, you absentmindedly noted your parents’ absence as usual, your pre-made breakfast on the table (courtesy of the MIA mother and father).
 Making a quick scan as to what you could quickly scarf down and what you could bring for Tenko, you decided to drink a glass of orange juice and bring a yogurt for yourself, as well as a large cinnamon bagel and a banana for him.
 Opening your front door always brought in the multicolored rays of the horizon that was one of your sole motivations of waking up early. You weren’t disappointed as you stepped onto your porch and breathed in the crisp morning air, the sakura leaves falling softly onto the ground. Pink and purple stripes fanned across the sky, the trees gently swaying with the breeze. At the end of your driveway stood your lanky best friend, his sickly green and grey skin standing out almost offensively against the beautiful morning scene. His long, spindly fingers raised up and wiggled slightly in a poor imitation of a wave as he saw you coming towards him. His school uniform looked a tad bit too big on his thin, frail bones that were scarcely covered by stretched out, scratched-beyond-belief skin. His indicolite hair fell across his face in scraggly waves, effectively covering his vermillion, beady eyes.
 You had never been so comforted by anyone else’s sight before.
 As you reached him, you tossed him the large bagel and he helped your overbearing food load by taking the banana stem from your teeth and holding it in his own large hands, one pinky outstretched.
 “You ready to go back?” You asked as you both began walking towards your school, which was a mere 15 minutes away from your house.
 “Hell no,” he scoffed before tearing a large chunk out of the bagel. “Mmfh, thanks for the bagel-”
 “-don’t talk with your mouth full-”
 “-but nah, I’m not ready for Vlad King’s excessive droning about HC paperwork. ``Stuff's a bore honestly, I wanna take more actual work studies time out.”
 “Oh yeah, you were saying earlier that your dad was gonna let you work with him at his business, right?”
 “Yeah he did. But, to be honest, I don’t really know what's worse- Vlad’s lectures or my dads’.”
 You swat his arm with a disapproving look as he laughs at your disdain.
 “Ten, he loves you okay?” You begin softly as you furrow your brows and look at the ground in contemplation. “He just...doesn’t know how to show you. He’s just scared you’ll end up like your grandm-”
 “Yeah okay, okay, I get it!” He yelps uncomfortably. Hearing any praise or defense for his father always put him in a tough spot since he didn’t want to accept the very hard fact that his dad did in fact love him-even if it was shown in weird ways.
 The two of you eventually reached the grand school, the front blue and golden themes coming into view as you rounded the corner and walked through the gates of the campus. 
 It was a nice sight to see everyone again; kids younger and older than you laughing and shoving friends around, students sitting on the school walls, and teachers lounging around the classes with the occasional “Get to class!”
 Tenko and you walk through the halls, navigating the way to your new classes and assessing each other’s schedules when you hear, “Hey, Y/N!”
 You turn and see some of your other friends, Rumi Mirko, Moe Kamiji, and Yu Takeyama approaching you with grins on their faces.
 Mirko waves her own peach colored schedule in her hand as she says, “Alright L/N, hand it over- I need to see which hunks you got in your classes.”
 You smirk before giving your own witty reply. “Apart from you? I think the bar’s been set too high, hun.”
 You playfully tug one of her ears and she squeals before chasing you in circles around your small group. Your jerky running causes Kamiji to bump into Tenko’s slender frame, and he lets out a little “oof!” before wincing and rubbing his sore arm.
 “Ohmygod, I’m so sorry Tenko!”
 “No worries, it’s cool.”
 “Hey, Tenko, I wanna see your schedule for a sec’,” Takeyama says slyly, fluttering her lashes at him before snatching his paper. “‘Gotta see if I got lucky this semester to finally have such a cutie like you in one of my classes,” She feigns a swoon at the poor boy, his face growing a violent shade of red as he commences his hemming and hawing. 
 “No she’s actually right though! I wanna see which classes I have to put in extra effort in not to fail if I’m ogling at this absolute sex god for the entirety of the period,” Mirko stops chasing you long enough to peer over Takeyama’s shoulder at his paper, and Tenko finally gives in his self restraint in a moment of vigorous neck-scratching relief.
 You shake your head in disbelief before absentmindedly pulling his hand away from his suffering neck, and Tenko doesn’t make a move to stop you.
 “Okay, enough already, leave this poor ‘sex god’ alone, your guys’s cleavage is gonna send him into cardiac arrest alone without the horny dialogue.” You say exasperatedly, and the victim himself flashes you a grateful look out of the corner of his eye.
 All three girls give you both nasty grins before making a fake show of ripping open each other's shirt buttons and feeling their sides up with lewd moans.
 Just to play along and to spare Tenko’s sputtering and massively sweating self the embarrassment, you cover his eyes with a hand and shoot the girls a dirty yet humorous look.
 “Alright then, miss high and mighty, were you lucky enough to have your homeroom with Cupid over here?” Mirko asks, Kamiji and Takeyama nodding eagerly behind her.
 “I was, actually. Did you get anyone worth the look?” You say, beaming at a very sweaty Tenko.
 “No,” She pouted, her large ears dropping visibly. “But I really wish I could’ve gotten…” and she trails off as her focus narrows on something behind her, her nose twitching in excitement as her face morphs into a sultry expression. You, along with everyone else, turn to see what captured Mirko’s attention.
 “Speak of the devil,” she mutters, nudging you and the other entranced girls.
 And there he is in all his glory. One of the school’s most notorious playboys, Hawks himself-he spots your little reunion, and saunters his way past the sea of kids who part their way to make room for his highness. His blond hair glows in the early morning light, reflecting the golden and brown streaks that embed themselves through his locks. His teeth gleam a blinding white as he smiles at Mirko, coming up behind her (to her utter satisfaction).
 But it's not Hawks that makes your heart pound.
 It's his black haired buddy that you became betrothed to not too long ago that makes the butterflies in your stomach come alive again.
 He has a bored, brooding look on his face as him and Hawks approach your group. His hands are in his pockets and his body language is so sluggish and lazy that you’d think he has a million other places to be at 8:45 in the morning. In fact, the only indication you get that he sees you is when his icy eyes flit over to yours or rather, your body, and he raises an unimpressed eyebrow.
 I wonder if his family knows he dyes his hair at school? Or, when does he actually have the time to do that?
You snap your focus away from him, saving yourself the embarrassment of gawking at him before looking at the spectacle Hawks and Mirko were proudly showing off.
 He circled his arms around her shoulders and neck, resting his head against her soft skin. She giggles and swats his other straying hand away from underneath her skirt while the rest of you roll your eyes in disgust as Mirko croons, “I didn’t hear back from you for a while, you had me worried for a moment there hot stuff.”
 Hawks’s velvety words cut through the air like butter, his voice dropping a few octaves when he chuckles into her neck.
 “Sorry about that babe, ‘was training pretty hard for some time, got distracted and all that. But you’re up for next weekend, yeah?”
 It’s enough to placate the eager bunny and make you and Tenko gag internally for the meantime. “Mmm, only if you call me tonight,” she nuzzles into his hair. It was no secret (evidently) that the two were fucking, his smooth voice and sauve personality miraculously calming the eccentric and bold girl down. You didn’t come in contact with Hawks a lot, but you did unfortunately hear about his stamina from your girlfriend and see the way he undressed other girls in the hallways solely with his eyes enough to know that he wasn’t someone you wanted to spend your heart and time on.
 Which is why you did a double take when you realized his honey colored orbs settled on you.
 “L/N, right? How’ve you been?” His lids were lowered, the corners of his lips pulled up.
 You stutter a moment before answering lamely, “Uh, I-I’ve been good, thanks.”
 But it seems like he was more than overjoyed with your response from the way his smile widened and he lifted his head from Rumi’s neck to see you more clearly.
 “Yeah? Make any new friends over the break? Maybe got yourself a little boyfriend?” Hawks turns his gaze ever so slightly to his left, and you follow his eyes as they also land on Touya.
 You swallow thickly as you feel heat crawl up your neck to your face, your palms feeling slick as you register his meaning.
 He knows.
 And Tenko knows it too, from the way he side-eyes you concernedly, but staying silent (probably for his own sake, which was valid). Your “boyfriend” snarls quietly at Hawks, his balled fists turning a bright blue as they begin to heat up, much to the instigator’s amusement.  Touya never makes eye contact with you throughout the whole exchange, though.
 “Whaaatttt?” Kamiiji, Mirko, and Takeyama squeal obnoxiously, evidently intrigued at the notion of you being involved with a mystery man. “No fucking way, who is it?”
 “Well-he- I mean, my parents kinda set us up…” You stammer mortified, caught between telling the truth or not. It was obvious Touya hadn’t told anyone apart from his closest friend, otherwise Rumi would have for sure found out through Hawks with Touya’s permission.
 You wish you didn’t feel your heart drop a little at the thought of Touya so obviously wanting to keep your relationship with him under wraps. Were you really so embarrassing to be associated with?
 But you’re saved from your internal battle when Tenko pipes up at his own expense.
 Thank god.
 “It doesn’t matter, it's not like they’re married or whatever-”
 Yet. At least it's part of the truth.
 “-come on Y/N, we should head to class,” Tenko looks at you meaningfully, and wanting to head out of the limelight before-
 “Ahh, Shimura! Almost didn’t notice you there, buddy. You’re so quiet, it's easy to forget you’re there, y’know?” Hawks says gleefully as he throws an arm around the anxious boy’s boney shoulders and flashes a knowing smile at Touya, who mirrors Hawks’ saccharin expression.
 Tenko refuses to rise to the backhanded comment, opting to nervously scratch his neck and you quickly pinch your fingers to avoid reaching out and pushing the ravaging hand away and nodding his head weakly. 
 Touya comes on his opposite side, also wrapping a patched arm around Tenko’s other side so that the poor victim is trapped between the two bloodthirsty boys. They start steering him away from the group, and you stand there, trying to decide to butt in or join the oblivious girls who start making their way to class, chattering amongst themselves.
 Your dad’s words come back to you.
 You need to start putting your fiance before other men, Y/N.
 Fine.
 This is going to be killing two birds with one stone anyways. You technically were going to be putting Touya first by letting him know what you did or didn’t like. The start of your rocky relationship had to have foundations on some form of do’s and don'ts for either of you, right?
 And so, taking a deep breath, you march a couple meters up to the three boys, hearing sickening phrases of “grease-stain”, and “worthless little piece of shit, since when did you talk to girls?”, gently take an empty space of your friend’s shoulder that isn’t preoccupied by either tan or patched arm, and pull him around so that he’s facing you.
 Unfortunately, you didn’t think to account for the other two who would no doubt keep an iron-grip on Tenko, so you’re left holding onto him while Touya and Hawks are staring disbelievingly and amused at you respectively.
 “Tenko and I have to go to class,” you say quietly yet firmly as you ignore the spindly boy’s gaping at your audacity. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call him a grease-stain, or anything otherwise offensive.”
 You continue, mustering the last of your bravery as you finally address your fiance, or whatever the hell he was to you at this moment.
 “Look, Touya, it’s obvious Hawks knows, and I told Tenko too. I won’t tell anyone else, though, if you’re not comfortable with it. But I want you to please start respecting my friends, and in return me as well if we’re gonna be engaged.” It’s so hard to maintain eye contact with him while his blown-wide, furious blue oceans are burning holes into your face.
 “You little bitch,” Touya starts on you to your utter dismay, but Hawks hold an arm out to prevent him from advancing on you any further. Even Tenko moves slightly in front of you to shield you from harm, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed, but rather, adds to Touya’s irate state.
 In fact, if he didn’t realize, or didn't want to acknowledge your kinsmanship with Tenko, he certainly had to now.
 Because not only does Tenko move in front of you, but the second Touya falters he takes the opportunity to propel you forward, covering almost 3 feet’s worth of a distance in one stride as he pushes you away from both men and down the hall, blindly following the signs to land the two of you in your designated homeroom. It all happens so suddenly with your surroundings flashing by you from Tenko’s sheer speed that you almost get whiplash as he continues to push you through the entrance of the class, and right into the first empty seat he sees towards the back of the room.
 He pants slightly for a minute, staring down at your seated form intensely before sitting in the empty seat right in front of you. As he pulls in the chair, you finally speak in a mix of frustration and gratitude.
 “Ten, I had it covered! You didn’t have to do that, Hawks had him too, it wasn’t like he was gonna-”
 “No, you don’t understand Y/N. They’re messed up in the head, they would do something fucked up, and the worst part is they wouldn’t even care if it was in the open. Hell, you’re his-”
 He whips his head around before whispering the rest to you.
 “-his fiance, and look how he reacted! He’s dangerous Y/N, you need to be more careful-”
 “Tenko, I’m not gonna be scared of the dude I’m engaged to,” you roll your eyes. “Okay sure, he’s a complete asshole to you and me, but he’s got too much to lose to actually do something real.”
 But the rattled boy wasn’t convinced as he shook his head at your naivety. It wouldn’t do to tell you about all the times they used their quirk on him, having years of training before he did, essentially rendering him useless to fight back or stand up for himself. He didn’t think you’d believe him if he told you that merely a week ago they got in contact with some friends involved with the Yakuza to beat him into a pulp on his way home from school, simply because it made them laugh, it made them happy. And he certainly didn’t want you to have any fights with your beloved fiance because of the way they would push him down onto the gravel behind school after quirk training sessions, use their feathers and fire to burn and rip his clothes apart, and heat up the bigger rocks on the ground until they were burning coals as vermillion feathers aided in throwing the small missiles at him. He would come home in burns, bruises, and cuts that were easy to excuse from the similar treatment he got from his father.
 That’s one of the only good things about his father, in hindsight. He built up Tenko’s immunity to these things, simply teaching him that these were the ways of life. You either eat, or get eaten.
 So no, it wouldn’t do well to tell Y/N any of these things.
 The bell rang, pulling you both from your back-and-forth arguing into a silent state along with the rest of the class. Your teacher, Vlad King, enters the room and almost fills up the doorway as he makes his way to the blackboard.
 “Good morning class. I hope you all had a relaxing winter break-but not too relaxing, as I expect you all should’ve reviewed last semester’s notes.” He looks pointedly around the room, the class filled with a mixture of scoffs, laughter, and groans.
 You and Tenko share an exhausted smile and simultaneously roll your eyes at your teacher’s academic reach.
 “But, there is one announcement I’d like to make before we start today’s lesson. Due to some parents feeling as though their kids aren’t receiving enough variety in terms of quirk training and the business side, along with the logistics of the hero world, me and a few other teachers have agreed to switching out some students after a period of time to experience the other classes, and the materials that go along with them.”
 “So, because of this change, we will be receiving some new students in our class today, as well as taking some out. But fear not! You will still have the same lunches as your friends and be able to see them in between classes.” He walks over to the door while talking, and you raise your eyebrows at Tenko. He shrugs as well, similarly clueless as to what your teacher meant.
 But you needn’t be confused any longer, because when he turns the door handle and opens the door, a slew of students trickled in.
 And much to your utter horror, Hawks and Touya saunter in as well.
 Your eyes widen and instinctively you slouch in your seat trying to make yourself unnoticeable and smaller. You see Tenko stiffen as well, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
 The scratching commences, too, and you quickly kick a leg out to meet the side of his chair to deter him from it.
 From the front of the classroom, all the students that were switching into your room are lined up, ready to introduce themselves.
 They all go, one by one, and as meaningless names float in and out of your attention, you risk a look at the two who had you practically shaking in your seat.
 You wished you hadn’t.
 Thing One and Thing Two were looking straight at you, your slouching proving to be unfruitful. Thing One was smugly looking at you, taking his sweet time for his eyes to note your hair, clothes, demeanor, and lingering in some places that were less than appropriate. Thing Two was glaring at you, gaze narrowed as his hands were stuffed in his pockets and by no doubt did you think he had taken your words from earlier with appreciation.
 It was too early. You didn’t want to hear what they had to say about your little speech so soon, especially when you saw how Touya took your words as an insult rather than an attempt to understand you and improve your relationship with him.
 Finally, it was their turn to introduce themselves to the class.
 “Hey, guys. You can just call me Hawks, no need for formalities,” the blond shrugs casually, seeing Vald King’s unimpressed expression and giving him a charming smile. You hear a couple of girls fake screaming his name as he introduces himself, and Hawks flashes a round of winks and finger guns at his fangirls, much to your disgust.
 “The name’s Dabi,�� and your attention is turned to him once again. His voice is gruff, yet clear, and as charming of an aura Hawks gave off with the noises of various swoons, your fiance’s introduction prompts nothing but a deadly silent classroom, the occasional paper-turning and small murmurs echoing throughout the room.
 Tenko turns slightly in his seat to you and gives you another meaningful look. You both knew what each other were thinking.
 That’s right, he goes by the name Dabi here. I shouldn’t risk calling him by his real name around others, he might get upset at the informality.
 The rest of the students chime in with their names, and finally your teacher claps his hands, gathering your attention back to him.
 “Alright everyone, now that you all know the new students, say goodbye to your transitioning classmates and wish them luck in their new classes. Hajime, Setsuna, Tenko, and Kai, please pack your belongings and report to class 3-A.”
 You whip your head around in horror at Tenko who has gone stock still. The boy behind you, Setsuna, starts packing his things and grumbling under his breath. Tenko slowly begins to put his binders and pencils in his bag, not having the courage to look at your helpless expression.
 You feel like you were being thrown to the dogs, a piece of meat ready to be torn apart and ripped to shreds.
 Vlad King notices Tenko’s dawdling, and barks out “Hurry it up Shimura, we don’t have all day and these students need seats!”
 At this, both Hawks and Dabi’s heads turn to the both of you, and if they hadn’t noticed the disposition of you both, they damn well did now. You see Dabi’s eyes trail to something behind you and the corners of his mouth quirk up a bit.
 Setsuna gets up from his seat behind yours, and passes to the front of the class along with the rest of the stragglers.
 Oh, fuck. Please don’t let them sit here, please please ple-
 But it seems that you had previous karma to atone for, because the moment you start praying, both boys start making their way towards you. You shrink even lower in your seat, wishing desperately that you had brought a hoodie to wear to at least cover your face from this torture.
 It was only when Tenko finally packed his things and stood up at the side of his seat in front of you that Dabi and Hawks stopped stalking towards the seats that sandwiched you. He blocks their path and predatory looks, giving you a second’s reprieve of sheer panic. There is a tense moment where Dabi stands directly in front of Tenko, sizing him up and looking him down. You vaguely hear Ten murmur something to him, and Dabi lets out a loud scoff, elbowing the thin boy out of his way.
 You half rise out of your seat, naturally wanting to intervene as Tenko winces and grips his wounded side, but he quickly looks over his shoulder and shakes his head minutely, as if warning you to stay put. In the midst of you standing up however, Dabi moves forward, leaving you face to face with him.
 For the second time that day, you were in very close proximity to him, much to your discomfort. His blue eyes scorch your soul, much like the small blue flames emitting from the sides of his forearms. He narrows his gaze at you and stares at you until you relent and slowly sit back down. You can feel his eyes still on your form as he halfway circles around you and sits in the empty seat behind you. Hawks watches all of this in great amusement, and winks at you as he usurps Tenko’s seat in front of you.
 That’s just fucking great.
 Your fate is sealed as you look at the front of the room and watch Tenko give you a worried look as he’s ushered outside in the wave of kids exiting the room. The door slams shut as Vlad King closes it behind him, and the class is noticeably quieter as the lesson starts, some boring shit about submitting paperwork on time in an office setting and how to deal with setbacks.
 You try to focus as much as you can, but it's hard to ignore the way the back of your desk leg is being repeatedly slammed against any time Vlad King raises his voice, so the sound is muted to everyone but you. You grit your teeth and grip your pencil harder, almost breaking the lead when almost two minutes later you smell singed hair.
 And singed hair it was, all yours in fact as you frantically gather your hair in your hands and see burnt stands breaking off in your trembling fingers. In complete fury now, you whip around and harshly whisper, “Can you please stop-”
 “You got some fuckin’ nerve, you know that? Hangin’ out with that freak, and then defending him-especially in front of me. As if that’s not bad enough, you got the balls to ignore me when you owe me an apology.”
 You gape at him and even let out a little disbelieving laugh at his words. He said you had some nerve when he’s the one asking for an apology? 
 “Apologize for what, exactly? Stopping you from harassing Tenko and calling him offensive names?”
 His eyes widen mockingly, his eyebrows raised as the staples around his mouth tremble in his effort to not burst out laughing at your indignation.
 “I’m not harassing him. He should be glad we’re even approaching him, we’re like the closest things to friends he has. Why do you think he only hangs with you? It’s ‘cause you're the only braindead idiot in this school who doesn’t realize what a creep he is. And as for the ‘offensive names’, it can’t be offensive if it's true. He is a f-”
 Your ears start ringing as you feel like he’s pushing you past your breaking point. You can’t bear to hear any more slander against one of your closest friends, but as you try to whip around to face the front Dabi quickly catches onto one of your wrists, preventing you from turning away from him any more. His staples holding his scarred sin together dig into your flesh, and you quietly whimper in pain as you try to wrench your hand free.
 He simply tightens his grip and jerks you forward, causing you to practically fall out of your seat as he leans in close.
 “Don’t try to move away from me, Y/N. You were practically thrown at me, and that means you’ll do whatever the fuck I want, when I want.”
 You look up at him with glassy eyes, hair messily covering your face from the rough treatment. He looks almost thoughtful, the closest thing to a soft emotion you’ve seen from him yet as he brushes the hair from out of your face and behind your ear. 
 “And right now, your fiance wants you to stop hanging out with Shimura. Permanently.”
 **********
It’s less of a school bell and more like a trumpet from heaven when the indication of the class ending rings throughout the school. You had already packed your bag almost 10 minutes before the bell rang, not wanting to waste a second of the opportunity to make a mad dash away from Dabi.
 But you needn’t worry, because while you were practically sprinting down the halls looking for Tenko’s class, Dabi and Hawks were leisurely taking their sweet time packing up their bags, which were a little too light for anything deemed studious.
 Hawks chuckles after your form stumbled out of the classroom. “What’s gotten into her? Scared her off already?”
 “Something like that,” Dabi scoffs humourlessly. “ I just told her to stop fuckin’ around with Shimura.”
 “Man, and here I thought we were gonna take it easy on her for her first day.” Hawks tuts, shaking his head mockingly so that his blond locks fall handsomely around his face. “You’re breaking her in like a dog, Dabi.”
 But Dabi could care less about the timing of your inevitable breaking. He shoulders his bag and runs a hand through his hair, careful enough not to dislodge the black dye.
 They both walk out of the room to the next class, Hawks sending random girls an appreciative  up-down look that lead to eruptions of teasing giggles along the halls. “Regardless of how or when I break her-which, by the way, is gonna happen hard ‘cause there’s no fuckin’ way I’m putting up with her bitchy attitude-I’m not gonna let that walking mistake hang out with her anymore. He’s dead weight to anyone, and it’s so embarrassing to see how big of a boner he gets when she looks at him.”
 “That's the spirit,” Hawks clapped him on the back, steering him around the corner to their next class.
 “By the way man, you know we have lunch with her too, right?”
 **********
“And then he burned my hair!” You cry indignantly, folding your arms and leaning against the wall next to Tenko who was waiting in line for mediocre cafeteria food.
 “See? I told you, he’s dangerous. Him and Hawks both have a messed up sense of humor, and they have no shame in it either. You need to be more careful around them Y/N, don’t piss Dabi off especially, please.” He murmurs, looking at you through his bluish white bangs. You pick up a banana and plop it onto his green tray, causing him to whine about ‘NPC’s poisoning the crappy facility food’. Whatever that meant.
 “It’s healthy, you need it,” you shoot him a disapproving glare and pointedly lift one of his free spindly arms, gesturing to the lack of meat on his skin.
 “Okay mom,” he sneers as you pluck a Twinkie from his tray and transfer it to yours with an innocent smile as you do so.
 You both reach the end of the line and you wait as Tenko checks out. Looking around, it seems like the cafeteria is filled, so you elect to eat outside on one of the benches.
 “But, anyways,” you continue your conversation from earlier, “is that how they always are? How do you deal with it?”
 “Well, usually if you try to stay out of their way and just do as they do, both of ‘em will leave you alone.” He says uncomfortably, opening the courtyard doors for you with nine fingers as you quickly hold his tray to minimize the effort.
 “I usually try to think of them as the boss battle. If you avoid them, you’ll have a peaceful day. But if you try picking a fight with them, then you’ll take massive damage.” He shudders as flashbacks of burning rocks pelting his skin and ripped clothes enter his vision.
You scan the area looking for a quiet place to sit among the pink ground littered with cherry blossom petals, and find relief when you see Rumi, Takeyama and Kamiji scattered around a bench on the farthest side of the building. You call out for them and all three of them simultaneously turn and wave excitedly at you to come over.
 The grass feels lush and soft under your feet as the sakura petals swirl around you both as you cross the school grounds. You got lucky eating outside with this weather, and you internally want to make it a habit to come outside if the skies stay clear and blue like today’s.
 “Hey you two! Lucky you both are in our lunches too, huh?” Rumi smiles wide as Takeyama tosses you a cherry Ramune. Kamiji scooches over on top of the wooden table to make room for you to sit as Tenko takes a place on the seat itself.
 “Yeah, we didn’t have you all last year so I’m glad your schedules coincide with ours. How was class?” You press down on the little ball at the top of your Ramune lid and watch as it drops and fizzles in the substance. Tenko eyes it with interest, so you pass it his way and watch amusedly as he snaps open the top and practically chugs the whole thing in one go, precariously holding a finger out while he does so.
 “Ugh, don’t get me started. Midnight’s tits were bouncing in my face the whole time, I couldn’t keep my eyes on my paper.” Takeyama swats Rumi’s white ears as Kamiji bursts out laughing.
 “God, you’re so vile. But I can’t lie, she definitely improved her fit from last year.” Yuu says with a snort.
 “She’s such a badass, I’d totally ask her hand in marriage if I wasn’t getting saddled with-” But you freeze mid-sentence, face heating up as you catch your mistake.
 Tenko chokes on the drink, the girls squealing in disgust as Ramune spews out of his nostrils. You stammer, trying to cover up your tracks but there’s no need to as the focal point of the conversation turns to something behind you.
 “Oh my god, what are they doing here?” Kamiji whispers in awe.
 You whip your head around, and for the third time that day, your heart sinks to your ass.
 **********
 “Where is she, anyways? I don’t see her in here,” Dabi tries to ask disinterestedly as he casually sweeps his eyes around the crowded hall.
 “Ahhh, the pining begins, I see. Don’t worry, Rumi has the same lunch with us, so my best guess is she’s with her.” Hawks chomps on a piece of chicken, somehow managing not to spill any teriyaki sauce on his jacket.
 “Shut up birdbrain, I’m not pining. I just wanna make sure she’s not embarrassing me any more than she already has,” Dabi drones, cuffing the blond upside his head.
 “Question: how is she embarrassing you if no one knows you two are engaged?” His red wings flutter with glee as he catches Dabi giving him a dark look, opting not to answer.
 “You’re not answering my ques-tion”, Hawks sings, thoroughly basking in the catching Dabi’s ulterior motives.
 “And I’m not gonna answer either. Just tell me where she sits, idiot.” Dabi snaps, getting antsier by the second. 
 “Alright, alright, cool your head, matchstick. Rumi usually sits outside, so let’s check there. But hurry up ‘cause I’m hungry” Hawks whines as they make their way to the outside doors.
 They too are greeted with the same colors of pink sakura and bright well-kept grass, along with clear blue skies. But all Dabi sees is red when his gaze finally looks around and sees you with your friends...including Tenko Shimura.
 Hawks sees you too, and whistles as he glances back at Dabi’s face. If looks could kill, you’d be a burning pile of ash right now.
 “I swear to fucking god, I’m gonna kill them both.” Dabi growls as he begins to stalk towards your group. And of course, his friend joins in too, if not to just watch the episode that will unfold, but rather to actually prevent Dabi from causing any lasting damage...at least, on school property, that is.
 At the sound of your animated laughter and voice, the inky black mess of hair snaps up.
 He doesn’t like the way his heart clenches when the sight of you registers.
 Your laugh is a mix of soft giggles that crescendos into crazed wheezes that are accompanied by breathless snorts.
 It sounds so fucking ugly and obnoxious.
 He wants to hear more of it.
 Your hands wave around wildly as you animate your story with various gestures, sometimes throwing your arms out in the air and then bringing them close together to emphasize something else.
 Who the hell uses hand gestures?
 What do your hands feel like? Are they soft, or rough? Are they bigger or smaller than his? 
 What would they feel like if they caressed his skin? If they slapped him?
 Dabi is 20 feet away, and you still haven’t noticed him stalking towards you yet.
 Your head is thrown back now, hair shaking as you screech with laughter, your face scrunched up in laughter.
 He should’ve burned the rest of your hair, too.
 What would the material feel like through his fingers if he yanked the strands? If he caressed them slowly, in the dark?
 Why the fuck am I thinking about that?
 Your laughter has stopped now, the air eerily quiet. Dabi makes straight eye contact with you as he sees you've finally noticed him, as he watches Rumi whisper something to the group.
 He sees Tenko look panic-stricken, fumbling around his lunch to pack up and no doubt get the hell out of there.
 But not you, though.
 You just stare at him like he’s a wild animal, like you don’t know why he’s coming towards you so fast and with such purpose.
 He’s glad your eyes are on him. Property should know who it’s attention should be on, and who to cater to.
 He just wishes your eyes weren’t filled with so much fear. It’s making his heart squeeze and it feels weird. He doesn’t like it.
 “Hey Rumi. Yuu, Moe, how are you ladies doing?” He hears Hawk’s smooth voice flow into the air and join in with the falling of the soft tree petals as well.
 “Hey Hawks,” they drawl, no doubt excited to be blessed with his presence.
 Only you and Tenko stay quiet, the latter looking uncomfortably at his feet while you simply stare at Dabi.
 “I see you ladies are all enjoying the weather tod-”
 “-What the fuck are you doing here?” Dabi rudely interrupts the would-be smooth transition into conversation, but at the moment he doesn't care. He wants to know why the hell you so obviously ignored what he said earlier, and where the fuck you found the balls to blatanlty piss him off.
 But you stay silent, and stare at him further, eyes widening marginally like a deer in headlights.
 His heavy presence brings the feeling of death, the onslaught of dread, and it invades the group’s senses like the plague. His flashing arctic eyes scream murder, his balled hands reflect nothing but danger, and his set-mouth indicates that anything that comes out of it will end in vicious tears and a broken body.
 It contrasts so weirdly with his counterpart, who has a kilowatt smile that stretches from one ear to the other, his teeth gleaming so blindingly similar to the sun that it was another reason you couldn’t keep eye contact with him for too long. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pockets, showing no sign of lashing out and causing strife. The yellow sky rays bounced off his back, making him glow with heavenly golden light like an angel, and his eyes....oh lord, his honey colored hues swam with mischief; untold secrets ladeled into his ears in the dead of the night when he would lie side to side with multiple women of all shapes, colors, and sizes.
 But either way, regardless of the mismatched auras of the two, they both brought chaos and hell in their own ways, subtle or not.
 “Uhhh, ladies, why don’t I treat you to some of the school’s finest soba?” Hawks chuckles and scratches the back of his head before offering a hand to Rumi. “It seems like Dabi here needs to have a conversation with Y/N in private.”
 Rumi takes his hand and offers her own to Kamiji and Takeyama, who all pull each other up and look at you curiously. They’re smart enough not to ask openly, though. No sense in making things more awkward than they already are.
 Tenko tries to subtly get up as well, but is stopped when Dabi snarls, “You stay there. You and I are gonna have a conversation as well, fucktard.” He looks directly at you as he hurls the insult at the gangly boy, who flinches as if the words were knives.
You nap out of your horrified reverie.
 “Uhhh, well, we’ll see you around, I guess.” Kamiji calls from over her shoulder at you, her face sympathetic as Hawks’s arm circles around her shoulders and pulls her closer, whispering something in her ear that makes her blush.
 “Tenko, you can leave. Whatever patchwork here has to say has nothing to do with you. It’s between us, as my fiance.” You deadpan and return his ice-cold stare.
 The poor boy looks between his tormentor and saviour, conflicted as to what he should do. While Dabi’s arms and legs are starting to alight, you remain calm as ever perched on the table as if the petals littered on the ground weren’t silently catching fire.
 “If you get off the ground, I promise you won’t leave here with all your limbs intact.” The flame user says lowly, his voice catching on the gravely rasp of his threatening words.
 “Tenko. Please leave.” You say with finality, crossing your arms.
 A tense moment passes between all three of you, Tenko sweating bullets. He slowly starts to build his limbs up to a stand, his height matching Dabi’s yet somehow still cowering over the striking look he was receiving from him. He hesitates for a moment before sticking a cautious leg out towards where the other four departed people went, as if he were testing the waters.
 Dabi copies you and merely stares him down.
 His expression is unreadable as Tenko moves another leg out, and another as his body starts functioning properly and jerkily walks away from the two of you. Miraculously, Dabi is letting him, not seeming too keen on fulfilling his past promise of detaching his anatomy in favor of getting to you now.
 And then there was one. 
 You both look away from Tenko’s disappearing figure and finally at each other. 
 You still don’t say anything.
 He starts slowly circling around the table towards you, keeping his malicious eyes on you and your body the whole time. But regardless of the feeling of dread that courses through your veins as he draws nearer, you refuse to kowtow to this overgrown-spoiled-rotten eldest child. He was just another man, another blob of superior prejudice that was in your way of being happy in your career and in your life in general.
 One more step and he’s finally in your face now, a mere foott away from your sitting form. Your eye level is with his chest as he stands before you, tilting his head as his eyes rake your figure up and down. Your skin crawls and you look away, not wanting to react to his offensive gaze when he suddenly lurches forward. You can’t help as your indifferent demeanor cracks as you flinch when both his hands settle on your knees.
 He leans down, a few inches away from you when he speaks.
 “Are you deaf as well as stupid, you quirkless cunt?” He breathes into your face. His hands warm up ever so slightly on your knees, and you can’t help but think with a flash of paranoia how easily and quietly he burned your precious hair not even two hours ago. 
 You try to placate him by talking calmly, a brutal contrast in the way your heart was pounding in your tightening chest.
 “I don’t know what you mean, Touya. If you’re upset about something, we can talk about it without you trying to intimidate me.” Placing your hands on his atop your knees, you gently attempt to move him off but only succeed in him gripping you tighter. He wrenches your knees apart and you gasp as he slides himself in between your legs.
 “Oh, you know exactly what I mean. Don’t play coy with me, I told you clearly not to hang around with that greasy freak. Or do I need to give you a permanent reminder, huh?”
 He grasps your chin and shakes your head roughly as he presses himself further into you, hips gently rocking back and forth into the confines of your skirt.
 It’s hard to keep up a calm facade when his clothed erection is feeling up the outline of your panties.
 You release a frustrated cry and try to buck him off of you, but that only ends up pushing even further against him, much to your displeasure.
 “Fucking let go! Let go of me you disgusting asshole!” Punching and kicking does absolutely nothing to deter him, he only laughs at your pathetic defense as he grabs a stray hand in its mission to slap him square across the face and slams it down behind you on the table. He fails to stop the other hand though, as it ducks from underneath his chin and gives him a mean uppercut.
 He takes it maddeningly gracefully, though, as he finally catches the offensive hand and also smashes it down on the wood, emitting a pained wail from you.
 Both of you pant for a couple of seconds, tears of pain and anger threatening to spill over your lashes and reflex tears in his amused ones.
 “Do I have your attention now? Or do you want me to bruise your legs too?” He slides closer to your ear and his hot breath tickles your lobe as he whispers darkly, “I got a couple ideas in mind on how I can do that.”
 Your eyes widen and you try to jerk violently out of his hold. The patched hands holding onto your wrists heat up significantly, and you wail as your skin simmers and bubbles.
 “Please stop, Touya. It hurts,” you sob as he moves back to your face again, his body hovering your overs as he leans in further and hips stilling in their perverse movements, only pressing against your clothed mound at a stand-still now.
 “You didn’t answer me. Why the fuck,” his cooled palms flared back to life again and you painstakingly stifle a whimper, “are you hanging out with Shimura again?”
 “I-I was just having lunch with him! It wasn’t like we were meeting up outside of school or anything,” you plead with him, completely abandoning your passive facade. At the end of the day, you were quirkless and he wasn’t. Which meant you weren’t stupid or cowardly, but you were just human- you didn’t want to piss him off further by givng shitty answers and then getting burned.
 You try shifting to evade the not-so-subtle bulge in his pants but he holds you steadfast. He leers at you, and you turn your head to avoid the manic expression on his face. It was just your bad luck that no one else was around, the rest of the students and teachers heading back inside for their next class.
 “Aww what, you’ll take Skin ‘n’ Bones’ dick, but you can’t handle a little teasing from mine? Do I scare you that bad, princess?”
 Your bottom lip quivers as you bear his filthy words, your seared hands shaking in pathetic attempts to quiet any pained noise.
 He moves his head in such a way that his tilted frame comes a few millimeters away from your trembling smooth lips, and you look up at him with scrunched eyebrows in a plea for mercy.
 “Or, has little miss perfect never had a cock before? Never taken a thick, pierced dick up her tight little virgin pussy?” He groans as he rubs his erection up and down your mound, your skirt shifted in the tussle in such a way that it offers him a snatch of open skin that he takes with relish.
 You gasp and bite your lip and he thrusts gently into you, looking at your fearful face for the truth.
 “Stop-stop being gross Touya. I haven’t done anything like that with him, not that you should care who I fuck with. And for the record, like I said before, I was just having lunch with my friends, not having a goddamn date with any of them, including Tenko. And I don’t know who you think you are telling me who I can or can’t hang out with,” you try to sneer as you finally wrench a hand away from his grip and manage to push him back some with a shaky arm against his toned shoulder.
 “We’re not married yet, and Tenko has never done anything perverted or twisted like you that I would have to stay away from him. In fact, if he were my fiance then he’d act like a real one, tenfold than you ever could.”
 You don’t realize how big of a mistake you made when Dabi stills his pressing hips and releases your other wrist, which you snatch in your other hand and cradle the bright red flesh.
 He backs away a step or two, to your utter astonishment. He looks at you blankly and cocks his head at your unsure self. You have no idea what you said that could have caused such a change in demeanor, weren’t you just dishing back at him what he was giving you?
 “You really think he’s that great, huh? Honestly, I shouldn’t even be surprised you do, a quirkless uptight bitch like you goes perfectly with that waste of space.”
 “He’s not-” you begin to argue but are cut off when he spins on the heel of his black combat boot and starts walking away from you, only to call out over his shoulder, “If that’s the case sweetheart, I can’t wait for you to see how great and perfect he looks when his skin is burnt to a crisp and his body’s nothing more than ash and soot.”
 The blood drains from your face as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve made the target on Tenko’s back even bigger by trying to defend him. There’s no doubt now that if he was trying to evade Dabi and Hawks’ brutal treatment, they’d never let him breathe in peace now.
 You’d lose your best friend, and he’d never forgive you.
 Pride be damned.
 “Wait!” you cry out as you stumble off shaking legs and chase after him. His arms are thrown behind his back in an easy stretch, the movement making his stapled and scarred limbs seem even more menacing than ever before. 
 “Touya, please, don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything to you!”
 But he clicks his tongue and continues to stroll past you in the same direction your group had fled mere minutes before.
 “Too late dollface, I can’t have my little fiance bitch thinking some fuckwad is better than me, can I?” He pouts and gives you an innocent mocking smile, knowing you were breaking slowly at each word that came out of his mouth.
 “You should be glad I’m giving him any sort of attention anyways, like I said before he’s a nobody-he never uses his quirk anyways, he might as well be called a quirkless little fuck just like you! Hah! No wonder you two get along so well!”
 Tripping over your own feet, you try to keep up with his long strides and sway his mission to either kill Tenko or make his life even more hell than it was before.
 “No, no! That’s not true, please, Touya, he’s already so miserable, please leave him alone, I’ll do anything!” You practically shriek as you both finally reach the school doors and his hand grasps the handle.
 But he stops. Miraculously, he holds the door handle without turning it, and looks demeaningly at you.
 You try hard not to shrink back too much when he leans to your eye level, his hands on his knees as he says sickeningly sweetly, “Anything? You’ll do anything to save that sorry excuse of a bastard? Anything to make me not burn his ass down to hell?”
 It's hard to mask the loud gulp you make, and his grin stretches so wide his staples along the corners of his mouth move along as well.
 “Y-yes, anything. Please just stop hurting with him or messing with him at all. He’s not the one who pissed you off, I am.” You admit your defeat and hang your head low, peeking up at him between your lashes to judge his reaction.
 His cerulean eyes scrutinize you, his nose lifted in the air as he mockingly taps his chin in fake thought.
 “Hmm...well, I suppose you could start by not eating lunch with him in the first place. I don’t know how you stomach anything anyways, he reeks of a decaying body.” He smirks, but you dig your nails into your palms so as to not rise to the bait.
 Anything.
 You need to start putting your fiance before other men, Y/N.
 After a moment of silence that ensured you really weren’t going to lash out at him, he continues, this time stepping forward until he has you backed up into the adjacent brick wall in the little hidden alley besides the doors.
 “And,” his saccharine words penetrate your dizzy head as his arm stretches out towards you, and for the third time that day you were essentially pinned verbally and physically as his hand toys with the hem of your collar, “from now on you’ll be eating with me and Hawks too if he’s around. You’re also gonna stop being such a teasing little prude and let me touch any part of you without backing away or saying any bitchy comments. It’s your duty as a good little wife anyways, right Y/N?” 
 You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel one hand make its way to circle around your neck in a snug noose and the other slip up your shirt, fingers punctuated with cold little stitches spreading across the expanse of your stomach, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin.
 “Come on,” He whispers in his gravelly voice, leaning into the crook of your neck, “where’s that little attitude now, huh?”
 For Tenko. This is all only for Tenko.
 “Okay Touya. I’ll do it. Just...please, please give him a break.” You muster up the last of your courage to face him, and you finally feel a single tear treacherously escape the confines of your eye and slide down your face. You feel humiliated, having put up such false pretenses of being cool, calm and collected when he first approached you and now...now you were an emotional mess. In just a few sentences and unwanted physical contact, he had you right where he wanted.
 And the worst part was, you both knew you couldn’t even tell anyone. If you told Tenko, he’d immediately reprimand you and try to brave it by hanging out with you just so you didn’t have to endure the plight he himself was always in. You couldn’t confide in any of your girlfriends, no doubt Hawks would somehow spin it with his honeyed words to make you seem like the crazy, overreacting one. Your parents were a no-go either, having been telling you from the start that they weren’t to hear any criticism of their perfect, levelheaded future son-in-law.
 You wonder how your parents would feel about their dear son-in-law licking the tears off your flushed cheeks with a condescending chuckle.
 “Oh come on doll, having lunch with me isn’t so bad now, is it?” He cooes at you with faux sympathy. He does nothing to hide the twitching muscle in his jaw that prevents him from bursting out laughing when you furiously brush the tears and his saliva off your face.
 No, I don’t want to have lunch with you, you sick freak. I want to see my friends and not feel my heart pounding up my throat when I’m with you.
 “No, it’s not bad,” you whisper dejectedly, hanging your head and waiting for his next move.
 “Attagirl,” he says lowly, one finger ghosting over the waistband of your pants before retreating out of your shirt and to his side. The other hand wrapped around your neck squeezes once, relishing in your panicked gasp and frantic scrabbling at the back of his hand before also coming down.
 He finally deems your disheveled state a good enough reason to stop tormenting you, and he backs away with a little smile on his face that does nothing to calm your nerves.
 Turning the corner and opening the doors, he doesn’t look at your pathetic shaking body sliding down the wall when he says, “I’d get to class if I were you. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble for hanging out with people you shouldn't be with in the first place.
 Something tells you he’s not referring to himself as the doors bang shut.
 **************
 8 New Messages
 Rumi: Hey girl, you okay? Dabi seemed kinda off, I wanted to ask you what happened but I figured you two needed space and Hawks said not to bother you abt it:/ Did you guys get into a fight?
 Yuu: Ummm since when did you and Dabi talk? And since when did he get mad at you? Text back ASAP!!!
 Moe: If you’re still alive, you def owe us an explanation, hello? What did that absolute hunk want from you? I didn’t even know you two knew each other!
 Ten-ten: Y/N please text me back as soon as possible
 Ten-ten: Are you okay? Did he hurt you?
 Ten-ten: What did he even want from you?
 Ten-ten: If you’re mad that I left, I’m so sorry, I just thought me being there wouldn’t be much help to you
 Ten-ten: Please tell me you’re okay
 2:10: I’m fine, just walk around the back and meet me by the gate when the bell rings. Keep your head down, too.
 **********
 Dabi doesn’t feel any shame jerking off in the bathroom.
 Hawks doesn’t feel embarrassed either, listening through Dabi’s grunts and shaky breaths as he recounts the entirety of what happened between you and him after the group left, babes hanging off Hawks’ arms.
“So, what, you two just boned and you told Shimura to piss off? That’s what got your dick hard as a diamond?” Hawks chuckles, folding his arms and leaning against the white tile wall.
 “Yeah,” Dabi grunts as his hand works vigorously up his shaft, his piercings clinking harmoniously at his ministrations, “But fuck, man, she felt so soft and hot down there. Her stomach was so smooth too, I couldn't keep my hands to mys-ahh-self.” He groans as he climaxes, watching his precious seed erupt and drop into the toilet below him. What a waste.
 He wishes it went into your mouth instead.
 “Her stomach?” Hawks’s avian eyes practically bulge out of his head as he roars with laughter, dodging weak blue flames aimed straight at his hair. “God, you sound like a virgin, man. Who the fuck gets turned on by a stomach?”
 “Shut the hell up you overgrown chicken. I don’t fucking know, okay? She just- argh, I don’t know, when I saw her from a distance I didn’t really think much of her but when I got all close up with her I felt like I was going crazy. I mean, my body started heating up more than normal and I just wanted to touch her.”
 The blond was quiet, continuing to listen to his friend’s rant as Dabi washed his hands and inspected his spiky hair in the dirty mirror.
 “And her attitude? My god, hearing every bitchy word come out of her mouth was worth the look on her face when I held her down. Priceless,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he begins tightening a loose stitch under his eyebag.
 “She smelled pretty fuckin’ good too, maybe thats what got me going in the first place. I just wanted to be closer to her, regardless of how she saw me. It was just so satisfying seeing her break down, and all because of me, yknow?”
 He finally finishes checking his reflection and picks up his bag from the ground, Hawks following pursuit as they make their way outside the bathroom. They were currently skipping their last class, Quirk Training because they could actually afford to. Their teacher knew that both of them surprisingly had the highest grades in the class and continuously kicked every other student into the dust, the rest of their peers not having the right quirks to even hope to make it to the two delinquent’s level of strength and skill. It wouldn’t hurt to skip a few times, they would just pick up right where they left off, pummeling every other kid aside until they made their way to the top again.
 Plus, with all the testosterone raging through Dabi’s blood after lunch, he decided it would be better to take all the energy out in more relieving ways in the bathroom rather than using the adrenaline to accidentally blast some poor chump’s face off in the heat of the moment, pun intended.
 Not that he would mind, don’t get him wrong. It would be pretty funny seeing the look of horror on everyone’s face when the smell of a burning body hit their nostrils. But it wasn’t worth a suspension, or worse, an earful from his dad.
 “Oh, and by the way, she’s gonna have lunch with us from now on. I told her if she didn’t want me beating Shimura into a pulp she was gonna stop eating with him and come join us instead.”
 At this, Hawks gives Dabi a smirk and says dryly, “How romantic of you. If you wanted her to spoon feed and baby you at lunch so you could have a boner the entire period, you should’ve just told her straight up.”
 Dabi opens his mouth to argue with half of his statement before he’s interrupted.
 “Where is Shimura by the way? Did you see him leave the locker room? Training’s done, he should be out any minute now, why don’t we pay him a little visit and relay the same message you gave your little bitch to him as well?”
 Both boys smirk at each other as they make their way down to the locker rooms. Unfortunately for Tenko and fortunately for the devious duo , all three of them shared the same last class of Quirk Training. The frail, quiet boy tried his best to stay out of their way, but he might as well have had a sign up on his head that said MAKE MY LIFE HELL, PLEASE from the way he scratched himself raw, earning occasional disgusted looks from girls and snickers from a majority of the guys. His hair was almost always unkempt and in his face, prompting Dabi to yank his overgrown bangs up and out of his face as he snarled and spat venom into his victim’s wincing expression. When they sparred, Dabi held absolutely nothing back as he relished in the difference in their fighting styles: Tenko with close combat techniques and Dabi excelling in long distance. It was a recipe for disaster on Tenko’s side, and almost a cruel joke to the flame user as he easily sent wave after wave of burning hot hellfire towards the yelping boy. It came to a point where Dabi would openly and very loudly question why Tenko would even try, why he would even attend this class when he was beaten in under a minute-not nearly enough time to utilize his quirk.
 Their teacher would scold Dabi very lightly, but the damage was done and doubt was already planted into everyone’s mind as the seeds of disdain germinated and grew into ponderings of, has he ever beaten anyone before? He’s always out of the ring so fast, I didn’t even understand what his quirk was. Is he failing, how is he even passing this class?
 Only you were the one who knew it was his lifelong dream of working in the Rescue and Search unit, his quirk of decaying proving to be so deadly and harmful that he never had the courage to use it against anyone, no matter how bad they had it out for him. He could never live with himself if he ever caused anyone permanent damage that could end up in paralyzation, or worse.
 But that was the difference between poor Tenko and Dabi. Only one of them acted out in an eat or be eaten way.
 Hawks was more subtle in his torment, having less of a grudge towards the sulking grey mass of limbs. Sure, it was amusing watching him squirm and flinch and hear him plead raspingly to move your feathers, please, they’re covering my nose I can’t bREATHE I CAN’T BREATHE PLEASE I’LL DIE-
 But unlike Dabi, he didn’t get that big of a high from drawing blood and whimpering. That was all for fun and jokes to indulge in Dabi’s selfish and ruthless desires, sure, but the real rush he got was from the overall power imbalance from everyone else he received. It was knowing that he was at the top of the food chain, that no one could surpass him, even his brooding patchwork friend who he considered to be beside him if anything, but not above him in any sense. Tenko was just another cog in the grand machine that reinforced that idea every time he wilted and withered under Hawks’ sickeningly sweet, fake smile.
 You can’t blame him, either. He never originally asked for any of the attention the school practically spoon-fed him with when he was younger. No, he didn’t seek out any of the multitudes of guys that asked him to hang out every other weekend at the beach or park, and he was always indifferent to the girls begging him to spend the night and exchange numbers on the regular. They were all idiots anyways, what did they know? Sex, fame, money, drugs, all that bullshit that every young adult craves. He was better than that, he had a goal, he had ulterior motives, but he soon began to realize that the mind-numbingly brain dead people who circled him like their god could very well improve his chances of achieving said goal.
 And so Hawks began to painstakingly take time out to meet some tools dudes at the beach or catch a movie with them, he started opening up to sluts and bimbos girls via their legs more often and eventually he became a name revered around school, a reputation told and passed around the halls in whispers that traveled through notes and texts exchanged throughout classes.
 It just so happened to be in his luck that he was able to one day put a face to another name that floated through the halls in his passing classes: Dabi.
 They had been paired up to sparr, both sets of ears alert and open when their teacher read aloud each other’s quirks. Fire and feathers, huh? What a joke.
 At least, that's what the both of them thought about each other until they actually started fighting.
 Columns of cobalt flames rained above and around Hawks, and he was surrounded mere seconds after the match started. But nevertheless, his feathers detected a breeze from an open air pocket through the wall of fire, and he used his great wings to propel him through the slim opening to safety.
 That was the first time Dabi had ever been bested by anyone before, having every single one of his limbs pinned down by multiple heavy feathers tearing through his clothes, and similarly, it was the first time Hawks had even been surrounded so quickly by anyone else either.
 Thus was the start of their begrudging comradeship, which quickly evolved into something akin to a friendship when less training commenced and more grunted words and short phrases thrown to each other formed into gruff sentences, and bitter rants about shitty parents, being surrounded by painfully stupid peers, and how everyone else but them two saw the world for what it really was: a playground where they could topple everyone else down and somehow still manage to win those same hearts over as they used them as stepping stones to their own advantages.
 Dabi’s lust for blood and pain went hand in hand with Hawk’s craving for power. It was disgusting how the school worshipped them, taking any instance of abuse from either of them with a grain of salt, having already submitted to their superior auras. They truly were stepping stones, eagerly ready and oblivious to be used.
 And Tenko was just that, another meek, fragile little stepping stone that seemed so easy to crack...but somehow, instead of shattering into hundreds of pieces, he managed to retain his brittle shape and morph into a thorn in Dabi’s side. When he would be shoved into lockers for seemingly hours on end with burning feathers taped over his mouth (courtesy of Hawks to supply some material) that accentuated the scars on the lower half of his face, he wouldn’t tattle to any head authority or teacher. When they would tear and burn his clothes off in the locker room after their training sessions and force him to walk home in sweaty gym clothes, Tenko never lifted a finger to decay a hand or turn a feather into dust. He would simply sulk off and try to remain invisible and out of their way. 
 It drove Dabi crazy; he wanted the translucent skinned boy to scream for his fucking life, he wanted to see him lash out and fight, he wanted him to squeal like the pig he was. He wanted more reasons to beat him down and feel an ounce of joy in himself that he never received elsewhere. Seeing people shake and cower before him gave him the same rush as any heavy drug would do-it was addicting, and left him craving for more. It reinforced the idea that he was better than anyone else, and if his dad wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction or assurance that there was a purpose to his miserable life, then he would have to relish in the emotions he felt within others, even if it meant at the expense of his peers.
 And although he would never admit it, it secretly was hilarious as fuck for Hawks to watch Dabi lose his mind slowly but surely over the most trivial of things, like Tenko’s lack of reaction to their abuse. He knew it only came from the neglect Dabi felt at home, Endeavor’s blatant disappointment embedded its manifestation in the eldest son’s whole being, even if he would always deny that's the case. The lack of direction and emotion Enji showed to his lost cause of a son caused Dabi to lash out in increasingly aggressive ways at school. It just proved that even though Dabi thought he was better than everyone else, he truly was just another sheep like the rest of these idiots milling around. The brooding, aloof face he put up at school wasn’t enough to fool the sharp-witted avian; he was just an average spoiled elitist brat that threw tantrums when he didn’t get what he wanted, how stupid could he be? He thought too much of what others thought, even if he sought validation through his parents, who gives a fuck? It’s just another useless miserable factor of his life to ponder on, in Hawks’ opinion.
 If you asked Dabi what he thought of Hawks, he would give you a similar answer but with different facets. Sure, it was nice to have another god of the school walk around by his side, enforcing their reputations, and yes, both of them connected on negligent parents... but Hawks gave in too much into materialistic things. Sex and popularity were deterrents from the real world, and Dabi would be damned if he were to follow pursuit. Hawks was slowly proving himself to also be another pawn in their life’s game of chess, but for the time being he knew that making friends with him was looking at the bigger picture if he wanted to make a name for himself, no matter how painful that process was at times. Why the fuck would he waste time going to parties just to socialize and bang a bunch of slutty whores when he could be proving himself to the yakuza? While Hawks would be schmoozing with some busty bimbo and playing beer pong on a Saturday, Dabi would be making his own types of friends in hidden alleyways and getting acquainted with shady figures like Kai Chisaki, a boy around their age with connections that ran around the city and underneath the city lines. The scarred boy was dedicated to his eventual goal to rid this rotten society of all the superficial heroes and scum, so naturally he hadn’t the need or want to indulge in his own selfish desires.
 Up until this point, that is.
 Which brings him and his winged partner-in-crime to now, waiting in the shadows outside the entrance to the locker room. Waiting for a certain spindly, greasy-haired freak to make his appearance so he could beat the shit out of him and release some still pent-up energy that was not relinquished in the bathroom.
 So that he could tell him to stay the fuck away from what rightfully belonged to him, for the first time in his life.
 He reached down to pick up some gravel, hand-picking the rocks that seemed the sharpest as he heated up his palm. Without saying a word, Hawks’ feathers floated towards Dabi’s hand, embedding their bristles between the rocks. 
 It took about 5 more minutes of aimlessly lounging against the wall and burning other various thrown-out papers scattered around the ground, until the man of the hour made his appearance.
 It was pathetic, really, the way the door slowly creaked open as his matted pigeon colored head peeked out, swiveling around to take his surroundings. The second his head turned right, his eyes widened as he saw the hellraisers, and Tenko frantically tried to retreat back inside and slam the door shut.
 Unfortunately, he couldn’t beat the too-fast quills that snatched him by the collar and practically threw him forward. He flailed his limbs, trying to regain his balance and flee his inevitable beating. The panic that rose in his throat grew exponentially as he was dragged further towards Hawks and Dabi, who was juggling burning blue rocks in his hand along with familiar red plumage.
 He knew the drill all too well, becoming dreadfully acquainted with the makeshift missiles over the years.
 “Hey, Shit-mura, catch!” Dabi lobbed a pierced feather at his bony abdomen, and Tenko flinched violently as a glowing blue pebble ricocheted off his body, hitting against a barely-fading bruise from a similar routine performed merely weeks ago.
 Albeit for a different reason, one that didn’t have to do with a not-so-lucky girl like you.
 Tenko fell backwards as a volley of feathers jabbed under the soles of his feet, and watched in horror as the perpetrators advanced towards him, Hawks with his wings so leisurely ruffling in the breeze with a laid-back smile on his face, hands tucked in his jacket pockets contrasting with the demonic grin etched on Dabi’s face as they leer down on him.
 “What do you want now?” The fallen boy barely mutters, not bothering to look up at them.
 “Don’t address me like that you little shit,” Dabi hisses, flames flaring up in his palms just to show off how much ammo was still burning and waiting to be used...all for him, of course.
 “Stop hanging out with Y/N. The next time I see you talking with her, or even looking in her direction I’ll burn your sorry ass alive. Though I doubt anyone would care, anyways.” He speaks curtly, and it kills him internally to almost admit how frustrated he is seeing you two cross paths, even after a sole day.
 Tenko raises his eyebrows, looking between Dabi and Hawks, who, for the meantime, doesn't feel a need to waste his breath on such a petty matter.
 “We’re just friends, that's all we are. If you’re so concerned about me getting in the way, I promise I won't-”
 “-You think I’m actually worried about losing you to her?” The inky head draws closer, his voice low and raspy as he laughs. “Let me tell you something, and listen to me very clearly, because the next time I repeat myself is the day I’ll fuck you both up- I don’t give a shit who wants her, or who doesn’t. I’m not concerned about losing her either, you know why?” He grabs the frayed collar of Tenko’s shirt, and the latter chokes as his air is squeezed out of his frail throat, hands frantically grabbling at the purple-scarred constraints.
 He can feel flecks of spit on his face, the hands around his neck heating up suffocatingly as Dabi nails the final lid in his coffin.
 “Because that little tease was practically sold to me, get it? I didn’t even want her in the first place, which essentially makes her nothing short of a playtoy for me to fuck and fuck with whenever the hell I want, without you in the picture. I don’t need some weepy moron like your sorry ass getting her all teary-eyed when her eyes should be on me and me only.”
 He releases the weakling’s throat, wishing it was your smooth one instead. He almost would’ve had a boner if Tenko’s big, gulping breaths were a little bit more feminine sounding, like yours.
 “Okay, okay, whatever man, I’ll do what I can to stay away from her. Just…” and his voice trailed off into a whisper, hoping he could muster any more sincerity in his words, “...please don’t break her heart, or be too rough with her.” The mere thought of you being bruised and banged up like he was made him gag.
 It was sickening how similar his words mirrored your own.
Dabi scoffs as Hawks finally decides to speak up, spreading his hands in a faux show of good gesture.
 “I gotta admit though, Shimura, you got good taste in girls. I’m almost impressed you managed to get a cute little thing like her to even touch you.” Tenko blanches, noting the way Dabi’s jaw clenches as the instigator’s mouth curves into a smirk, all of them knowing full well that the carefully chosen words were meant to rile the situation up even further.
 But after a tense moment of everyone glancing at each other, the patchwork figure relents and exhales through his nostrils, deciding to grant the mess of fallen limbs a rare chance of mercy.
 “Shut the fuck up bird brain. Let’s go, I don’t wanna hear my dad bitchin’ if I come home late again,” He kicks Hawk’s boot with his own and turns around towards the entrance of the school, not sparing Tomura a second glance. Hawks laughs handsomely and gives the rattled boy a mock salute and a fluff of his grand wings before trailing after his counterpart.
 Shimura finally lets out a shaky breath, slowly picking his scattered belongings off the ground, snapping his head back up frequently as if the two were bound to come back and mess with him further.
 While he was picking his remaining binders and gym clothes off the ground, unbeknownst to him, about 50 feet up and out the school Hawks was fishing an object out of his plush wings.
 “What’re you doing?” Dabi asks lazily as they walk the streets of Musutafu, kicking sake bottles out of the way.
 “Hol’ on-” Hawks grunts, yanking the object loose from his tight confines of his feathers before placing it in Dabi’s open palm.
 “Huh? The hell’s this?” He raises an eyebrow, gingerly holding up the beaten screen in front of his face.
 “That right there is extra material to hold against your little wifey. Seems like he had more pressing things on his mind rather than to check for all his belongings,” The quick-witted avian pats his elusive wings proudly, basking in the benefits his stealthy quirk allows him.
 And sure enough, as Dabi gleefully cackles with laughter at his good fortune, Tenko Shimura is desperately patting down his pockets, looking for his phone while you chatter on cluelessly next to him. 
 ****************
 “So? How was your first day?”
 “Did you see Y/N? I heard from some upperclassmen that you got classes with her.”
 “You should walk her home after school!”
 Touya is immediately bombarded with questions from his siblings the second he makes his presence known by slamming the front door shut.
 He growls under his breath at all the clammer around him, and he barks at them to shut the hell up before he burns the house down.
 It doesn’t faze the rest of them who are blessed with their ice quirks, and they continue to pester him until he spills the most meager, unsatisfactory answers to them.
 “Yeah, I had a class and lunch with her. Happy? Now seriously back off.”
 Fuyumi and Natuso cheer as Shoto gives a slight smile.
 He heads off into the dining table, munching on carb-infested snacks as he scrolls through Tenko’s phone.
 The messages between you and him are long, dating back years that he has to swipe for minutes before getting to the first words of your conversations.
 A majority of the speech bubbles hold nothing but dorky back and forth’s of new movies that came out, hanging out here and there, and school help. Sometimes he’d come across you asking for advice for your parents, or ranting about having to keep a frustratingly posh look in public, and he realizes surprisingly you two might have more in common than he thought.
 He hadn’t even bothered to look at most of Tenko’s messages, nothing holding too much leverage on potential blackmail or more fuel against him, but suddenly his thumbs stilled as his eyes rove over a conversation from a couple months ago.
 Y/N: Ugh, it’s just one of those days, y’know? Idk if its PMS but i’ve literally been watching porn for like 2 hours now
 Touya’s eyes widen and he brings the screen mere inches from his eyes, just to ensure he’s not imagining his good luck...as well as disbelief.
 The next messages however, grab his elation by the balls and twist them into a cloud of red-filled rage.
 11:57 pm: I could give you something better than porn if you want:)
 It takes all he has not to throw up his munchies on the table at the pure inexperience Tenko’s words so evidently hold.
 Can this bastard be more cringe?
 Apparently it didn’t matter to you, because not even a full minute later you had responded to past-Tenko.
 Y/N: Oh yeah, like what?
 Touya excuses himself from the table, ignoring Natsuo’s raised eyebrow directed at him from the kitchen.
 He stalks to his room, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. Thankfully the questionnaire was over the moment he walked in, and his parents were gone until the evening, so he was set for privacy. It’s not like anyone would willingly want to come into his room unannounced anyways, unless they were looking for a death wish.
 The gloomy black decor around his man-cave suited his mood well, only the dim light of his computer and phone providing him access to witness your whore antics.
 Picture after picture filled the conversation, lacy white lingerie and red silk complimenting your figure well, and his heart speeds up when he sees the slutty expression on your face.
 You were wearing makeup in some pictures, and completely bare-faced in others. Some photos didn’t do justice to your beauty with the naive angles you positioned yourself in, and others quite literally made him gape at your junk in the right places and slender bits along your silhouette.
 In his eyes, it was innocence at its finest. Your honesty at showing all parts of you was mouth watering to Touya, the way you didn’t hide any side of you in such an intimate exchange made him want to sink his teeth into your helpless being and never let go.
 It also made him want to melt Tenko’s skin off his very breakable bones.
 We’re just friends.
 Some friends they were, alright. A slut and a grade-A fuckin’ incel. How the hell did Shimura get a taste of you before he did? He’s your fiance for gods’ sake, that's his right and no one else’s.
 Honestly, he’s disappointed in you right now. For all that talk you gave him earlier today, he didn’t take you as some easy hoe that’d put out for such a creep like Tenko, with just a few sweet words thrown here and there along with some bad pickup lines.
 He crosses his arms behind his head and leans back into the plush mattress, frowning in thought. The sounds of his father banging open the door and his siblings chiming in to greet the old bastard float in and out of his ears as he thinks of what to do with you and Tenko.
 Obviously your guys’ friendship surpassed normal boundaries, regardless of what you both pleaded or believed. Just the fact that Touya fucking Todoroki, son of the Number Two hero, eldest child and heir to a powerful elite family lost first claim of his wife-to-be’s body to some...some withering degenerate is making his heels expel smoke.
 He’s not going to be second place again, not outside his own home too.
 There’s no doubt in his mind that if you truly are all bark and no bite, you’ll find a way to meet up with Tenko behind his back. The pictures he’s seen tonight just proves it's going to take something bigger than a copped feel and a verbal warning to pull you both apart, and Touya is more than ready to take on that challenge.
 A plan begins to form in his mind, one that ensures his fiance and the dirtbag will stay away from each other, even if he needs to push them to interact more initially. Even if he needs to make you desperate to reach out for someone, anyone who’ll come to your aid after he’s through twisting and welding your nerves together.
 Touya falls asleep with one hand in his pants, one hand holding his phone screen up showing your white lingerie.
 Tenko falls asleep for the first time in months without his bony hand down his sweats furiously working his shaft at those pictures you sent months ago. The cum that usually spills out and stains his abdomen is replaced with dread that embeds itself in the pit of his stomach. He knows either Hawks or Dabi has his phone, and he knows what he’s hiding in there isn’t something that would help his claim of being your friend.
 You send a message to Tenko before you sleep, telling him to wait for you in the adjacent empty hallway to the cafeteria after you finish lunch with Touya.
 *************
 “Where the hell were you yesterday? I tried calling and texting you!”
 You indignantly demand, making no effort to move out of Tenko’s way as he tries to gently brush past you to make room for himself on the sidewalk.
 “I, uh, lost my phone and forgot to tell you after school. Sorry.” He says lamely, and you squint your eyes and grip the straps of your backpack even tighter at his half-assed excuse.
 Begrudgingly shifting to accommodate him in the narrow walkway, you both begin to walk to school. The butterflies have risen from the grave of your stomach again, butterflies of dread and gross anticipation at meeting your inky-headed match.
 “Well, did you report it missing?” He scratches his neck softly and grunts in denial. You frown, thinking if it were you then you’d be throwing a racket at your missing phone. Guys are weird.
 “Okay...well, anyways, I texted you about meeting me outside the caf’ when the bell rings for class. I have a feeling Touya’s gonna be stingy about me staying put like the perfect, brainless doll he wants me to be, ugh. So just keep your head down as usual obviously, and I should be out in no time hopefully if I can manage to slip through the crowd. I’m thinking we meet up in the General Studies hall? It’s right there-”
 “-Wait, you texted me all this?” Tenko stops abruptly, red eyes wide with panic.
 You turn to face him, eyebrows raised at his composure. “I mean, yeah? I didn’t know you didn’t have your phone with you, so I’m just telling you now I guess. Why? Do you know if someone took it?”
 He hesitates, unsure of how to cover this up. He already knows either Dumb and/or Dumber has his phone, so no doubt if you truly did text him anything about your plan to meet up with him against Dabi’s specific instructions not to, one of them would already know by now. But he can’t tell you why your plan is now faulty and extremely dangerous.
 Because then he’d have to explain how they got his phone in the first place. One question would lead to another, and then he would have to spill about what they threatened him with, and you would somehow end up getting even more hurt if you found out what went on behind closed curtains.
 “Look,” He finally decides to speak, and rejoins you on your walk to campus, “I don’t want you putting yourself at risk to still hang around me at school if Dabi told you not to. He’s just gonna find out and get even more pissed. I’m used to it, but if you’re gonna be marrying that douche then it’s just gonna screw things up for you even more. We can just meet up after school like always and hang out at your place or something.”
 You pout at his proposition, annoyed that your oh-so-loving finance is weeding his way into your private life...more quickly than you’re comfortable with. Why should you have to sacrifice time away from one of your oldest friends just because of some overgrown, spoiled man-child?
 “Ten, you can’t let them dictate your life forever, okay? Like, I get it, they’re scary as hell and you were right-they’re not afraid to get physical. But it's only the first week of school back, are we really just gonna let them walk all over us? I’m not gonna be some stupid fucking bimbo thats gonna cower every time he flashes his fist at me.” You stamp the ground in frustration, and Tenko keeps quiet, growing more irritated by the second. You might now care about keeping your limbs intact, but he’s already as frail as can be. No sense in begging to get snapped like a twig just because of your suicidal intent.
 “So what exactly do you wanna do? I get how you feel, really I do, but Y/N they’re not talked about around school for no reason. I don’t know how else to explain this to you, no matter how much you want him to know how independent you are, he’s not gonna care.”
 Biting your lip in contemplation, you think on his words. He’s got a point, unfortunately. There’s not much you can actually do apart from run your mouth. Touya’s got the upper hand in every sense.
 But still. You’ll be damned if you wait for him to make the first move like a sitting duck.
 “Whatever,” you bite out. “We’ll just have to be smart about skirting around him. Just try to meet me in an empty hall outside the lunchroom if you can, and we’ll just make sure to stay out of open areas when we walk to class. No biggie. And of course we can still walk together home, right?” 
 “Yeah, sure,” he says, as you two near the school entrance.
 You try not to notice the delay in his answer as you walk through the gates.
 ***********
 Immediately when they spot you in the halls on the way to your homeroom, the trio of girls swarm and bombard you with questions...questions that you already answered with some half-assed, bullshit excuses about how Dabi needed help on homework.
 You guessed they weren’t as airheaded as they all let on.
 “It’s fine, its okay, it was just some stupid misunderstanding we had. We’re okay now, really,” you wave them off while Tenko worries his bottom lip in an attempt to subdue his itching.
 It takes some convincing for your concerned friends to finally leave with a warning of “If you hide anything from us, you’re getting your ass kicked!” and a casual laugh from you before you can head to class.
 “God, I don’t know how I’m supposed to hide the whole arranged marriage thing from them if they’re always gonna be so nosy. Especially when Tou-I mean, Dabi, isn’t exactly hiding his asshole-ness”.
 Tenko mutters in agreement to you, his head low as you both turn the corner into your classroom. He merely takes a step inside before looking up and hissing in panic, tripping backwards over his own feet.
 “Ten, what the hell?” You yelp, narrowly avoiding his skinny frame about to collide into you.
 “Shit, I forgot we changed rooms. And I’m not supposed to be seen with you, they already saw-!” He cowers at the side of the door, eyes wide with panic.
 And you realize too late that he’s right, that his sparse appearance in the doorframe must not have gone unnoticed by the dreaded duo already in class. You can see your seat from the window in the door, and an inky blob of black hair and blond locks not too far from your seat as well.
 “Oh god, fuck, just-just get to class before the bell rings, I’m sure they didn’t see you come in. But go, you’re gonna be late!” You swat him off and he dashes down the hall, throwing you a worried glance as he goes.
You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever might happen if they indeed saw your figure with Tenko’s. Turning the handle with sweaty palms, you gulp and enter the room.
 “You were almost late, L/N! Let’s try to hurry it up next time and not idly stand outside the classroom with friends, shall we?” Vlad King barks from the front of the room, and you cringe as you internally wonder if the entire school was against you today.
 The room has quieted down significantly as your teacher starts to prepare the whiteboard for today’s lesson. You imitate Tenko’s earlier demeanor by keeping your head low and trying to avoid eye contact with everyone as you make your way to your seat.
 Except, that proves to be quite difficult as you pass by Hawks’ seat, a lean leg casually stretching in a mockery to make you trip. You try to step over it, but unbeknownst to you, a lone red feather darts under your feet as you take a step and lifts you up, causing you to lose your balance and fall drastically to the ground, the contents of your bag strewn across the floor.
 You can barely hear the scattered laughter filling the room, can hardly make out your teacher growling at you to take a seat and stop causing distractions, because the ringing in your ears drowns everything else out. The underside of your arms are prickling as you frantically adjust your skewen skirt and try to simultaneously pick up your displaced belongings. Your hands are shaking as they reach for a binder that slid under Dabi’s seat. 
 Bile rises to your throat as a studded black combat boot carefully places itself right on top of the binder. Your violently trembling hands pause midway to reaching for it, and you slowly raise your glassy eyes to meet your tormentor’s.
 You wish you didn’t.
 The way he looks down at your disheveled figure causes your heart to seize and create a giant lump in your throat. His piercing-decorated mouth is pulled back in a jeering grin, thoroughly enjoying the mess his friend created, just for both of their sick amusement.
 Your pleading look does nothing to deter his firm hold on your binder, and you grow increasingly panicked as you hear the lesson start.
 “Let go!” You whisper, eyebrows scrunched together, bottom lip trembling like a baby.
 “Mmmh. Only if you beg like a little bitch.” He doesn’t even look at you straight in the eyes as he murmurs in his gravelly voice, his purple patched hand lazily writing down a few scribbles here and there to take notes.
 It's cruel, almost. The bravado you held up in front of Tenko this morning is completely gone now, a mere facade to show you weren’t going to simply roll over on your back and show your stomach for Dabi. But it seems that’s exactly what he reduces you to, in just a manner of a few simple movements.
 Just like yesterday, when he had you pinned twice at lunch.
 Lunch.
 Oh god.
 You quickly shake your head from its treacherous wanderings, opting to focus on the imminent problem right now instead of combusting from future ones as well.
 “Please, Touya,” you say almost under your breath, leaning in painfully just to make sure your plea fell only on his ears only.
 His lowered lids rove over up and down your body in acknowledgement, letting them settle on your thighs clenched together, hands balled in your lap to prevent from ripping yours and his hair out.
 Leaning back further and lower into his seat, he keeps his lustful gaze trained on your wary, kneeling figure as he subtly starts to palm himself through his jeans. Your jaw drops at his audacity, your mind completely forgetting to try and snatch the binder from his hold as he lightly thrusts up into his open hand. You scuttle backwards in disgust, your face feeling like it's on fire as you do.
 But another trusty red feather slips underneath your skirt as you flail back, and grounds the flat side of its bristles against your clothed clit.
 It's all too much, your hyper awareness and sensitivity to the whole humiliating situation reaching its peak, and you gasp loudly as the scarlet plumage circles itself once around your clit once more and retreats back into its large red home.
 Dabi isn’t the only one palming himself now.
 Once again, the class attention has been brought back to you, pages stopping their movements mid-flip.
 “Y/N L/N, what is going on back there?” Your peeved teacher’s voice booms across the silent room.
 You flinch and try to speak but Dabi beats you to it.
 “She’s distracting me sir, I tried to give her back her binder but she wouldn’t take it for some reason.” He speaks monotony, a hint of feigned confusion so strategically accenting his words.
 “No, no, that’s not what-”
 “-It’s true Mr. King. I saw her get on her knees in front of Dabi while he was trying to take notes.” You’re interrupted again as Hawk’s smooth voice floats above yours, and your face burns with shame at his choice of words as your peers titter around you.
 “If these two men miss today’s notes because of your shenanigans, you will personally be in charge of catching them up and tutoring them on whatever need be.” And with that, he turns around and continues to write nonsense formulas on the board.
 The black binder that caused so much trouble is shoved towards you carelessly, papers slipping out onto the floor as it comes your way. The two demons share a knowing smirk at their fruitful teamwork.
 It’s not even nine in the morning yet, and you want to scream.
*****
It takes less than two minutes to gather everything off the floor and to slink yourself into your seat, cursing the placement of Dumb and Dumber in front and behind you. Brimming with rage, you clench your pen tightly as it skims back and forth across the page, making up for 10 minutes worth of missed notes.
 Not even a full beat of peace is passed before you feel a cool breath against your neck, and you slap a hand against your nape as goosebumps erupt across your skin.
 “So who came into the room with you before class, huh?”
 You honestly should’ve been more scared of his question, but you couldn’t even find the energy to turn around fully and refute his accusation. You merely exhale loudly through your nose, letting him know you were done talking in defense. He chuckles lowly and you can feel the vibrations from the rumble of his throat in such proximity to you.
 “Better keep your pretty little mouth shut, unless you really are into getting degraded by Vlad,” he leans forward, his mouth right next to your ears. You can’t stop the shiver that passes through your body as his tongue slips out to caress the shell of your lobe at the same time his hand reaches down and around your seat, just to pinch the flesh of your ass.
 You jump slightly at the onslaught of sensations and harshly bite your lip to prevent a yelp leaving your mouth. Clenching your pen tighter in your hands is the only thing you can do his touch wanders underneath your skirt, feeling the flesh of your thighs clench together again to ward off his offensive advances, elatedly letting his coarse fingers run in between your cheeks and dip into the crevice of your mound.
 The sound of your quiet whimpers and the sight of your rigid back is enough to send him over the edge.
 He suddenly digs his dull nails into your soft skin, and leans further towards you. You can feel his mouth press against the shell of your ear as he hisses.
 ¨I asked you a question you quirkless whore. Who the fuck came into the classroom before you? Was it that freak again?¨
 ¨L/N, can you answer the question up on the board please?¨ Your teacher´s voice rings out from the front of the room, and you and your bully both jump at the intrusion.
 The board in question has a jumble of words and numbers written on it, and in your frantic stupor none of it makes sense to you. But you know if you’r
e caught slacking off again, you might get written up.
 ¨Uh, l-let me check my notes really quick, sorry,” you mutter as you desperately flip through your notebook pages.
 ¨Actually sir, I think I can help Y/N out.¨ Unexpectedly, Hawkś buttery voice chimes in, much to your relief. He answers the question flawlessly, and even your teacher nods his head impressively.
 You might´ve even said a thank you to him if he hadn't turned his head at the side just for you to see him lick a long stripe up a certain feather, the corners of his lips turning up into a sickly sweet smile.
 You feel queasy.
 Dabiś fingers strategically resume their ministrations again to gain your attention as they trail down into the junction of your mound, lower and lower until the pads of his stitched fingers rest on top of your clothed clit.
 You jerk slightly and shoot a hand down underneath your desk to stop him from moving, but the second your palm wraps around his wrist his fingers press deeper against your nub.
 Fuck.
 You know what he wants, so you answer him just to end this torture.
 ¨I don't know who you saw walking with me, but if you're referring to Tenko, then he went to his class. Try not to make it so obvious that you´re jealous or insecure of him, it's pretty pathetic. I mean damn, you´re even starting to see visions of him around the school? Maybe you like him more than I do!¨ He scoffs under his breath but you can feel the temperature around you both rise up.
 Successfully managing to yank his paused hand away from you, you throw his wrist backwards toward him, savagely relishing in his stunned silence, no doubt.
 Without turning around, you end him on a good note.
 ¨Didn't realize you were into ‘weak nobodies’, Touya. Who's the freak now?¨ You don't personally believe such a vile notion, but you hope know itĺl be enough to shut his fragile ego up for now.
 It does.
 He doesn't touch or talk to you the rest of class, much to your satisfaction.
 You don't smell the burning of a certain someone's foot in youropen bag, all your hard work from notes to projects going up in literal tiny flames.
 ***********************
 The bell dings, and you waste no time shoving your binder into your bag, failing to notice little flecks of ashes billowing in the air when the belongings go into the scorched fabric. You yank both straps onto your shoulders and immediately start to get up, but are promptly stopped when two figures swarm you and force you back into your seat.
 ¨Where you runnin’ off to cutie? Don´t tell me you forgot to have lunch with your fiance?¨ Hawks shakes his head mockingly, tutting in disapproval.
 ¨Yeah, I mean, she obviously thinks I´m into her little boyfriend, so I guess I'll just have to sit with her to demonstrate how I'm into women.¨ Dabi sneers, towering over your seated figure.
 You blanch, regretting your outburst from earlier, knowing that he was going to make you pay for it.
 ***********
 Tenko slinks off into the courtyard to look for any possible signs of his phone around the same time Hawks and Dabi are leading you through the more deserted halls towards the cafeteria, their arms thrown over both sides of your shoulder, vile words and innuendos bordering on threats hissed into your ears.
 He knows it wouldn´t do any good for your safety if he went off trying to spot you amongst the crowds, and frankly, he didn't really want to. Especially not when he knew who you were probably with.
 Sitting with Miruko, Takeyama and Kamiji was a no-go, they would all be uncomfortable with his unsettling appearance there without you as everyone´s middleman. Maybe he could find Atsuhiro? Or even Iguchi? Surely he could find them and they could all converse about the latest game that came out, as they usually did.
 Somehow he manages to make his way into the crowded commons being invisible to most had its benefits sometimes, especially when being shoved forwards as if he's not there gets him forwards faster and looks around the massive room for the other two social outcasts.
 Lo and behold, he spots them towards the back of the mess hall, where most of the trash cans were placed.
 Typical.
 Iguchi unsurprisingly has his reptilian snout pressed into his console, his long talons clacking away at the buttons. It's a miracle he doesn’t rip the thing to shreds with how fast his fingers move. Atsuhiro is fiddling with his precious marbles on the stained table, shooting them at each other just to frantically put them back in their original place before they can fall off the table.
 Tenko clears his throat, moves his hood slightly off his head and makes his way to them.
 ¨Hey guys,¨ he mutters as he reaches their table. They both look up and squint at him, breaking out of their dazes as they try to register him. Feigning a roll of his eyes, Tenko brushes the wiry bangs away from his face so they can get a good look at him.
 ¨Aahh, Tenko Shimura! Our old friend, have a seat, have a seat!¨ Atsuhiro claps his hands loudly, and Tenko cringes as people from other tables turn around to glare at the commotion. He can understand why the brunette was an outcast like him- he talked weird, like he was from olden times, and he thought life was a grand play. Minor criticisms, but it was enough to be deemed offensive in their school, enough for his ass to be kicked all the way to the back of the cafeteria, marinating in the dumpster stenches.
 Quickly trying to avoid a bigger scene, the pale glaucous haired boy slides into a seat across from the two and nods at the lizard boy.
 ¨Iguchi,¨ He acknowledges, and the hybrid lifts his eyes for a second from the screen and curls his lips in his own greeting.
 ¨How´ve you been Shimura? Haven't seen you in a while, usually you´re hanging out with L/N, right?¨
 Tenko scratches his neck and feels skin pile up under his nails.
 ¨Yeah, she um...I think she wanted to sit with some of her own friends today.¨
 ¨I thought you two hung out with the same people-¨ ¨So what game´re you playing? Is that the one that just came out?¨ He interrupts Iguchi, trying to avert the conversation away from you. The less eyebrows raised, the safer you both would be.
 They talk about the latest games and consoles, grades and classes. It feels nice, honestly. Even if he's not as well known and presentable as you, he gets to bask in things he actually is passionate about. Not that you ignore his own hobbies, but it gets tiring after a while to talk about facials and hero work, girl stuff that he just never really understands. You act like a protector to him, and he appreciates it, he really does, but...sometimes it feels like he's more of a show dog, and not the cute kind. A kicked puppy-no, charity work is a more accurate representation of what he feels like when he sees the not-so-subtle sympathetic looks your friends throw at you when they think he's not looking.
 Tenko loves you a lot, and he knows you do too. But sometimes it's hard to see past that aged love when, as Iguchi basically stated, his friends are your friends.
 Funny thing is, he has no real friends apart from you.
Tenko loves you a lot, and he knows you know.
 It's been hard to remember that constant love when Dabi and Hawks have been making his life a living hell, especially now when they know you´re so protective of him.
 It´s hard to remember that love when you insist on putting the two of you in actual danger, just to walk down a stupid hallway together. 
 But he supposes he can't blame you all the way. He guesses maybe it's mommy issues from a younger age around the time he met you. It's the way he could cry into your shoulder after his father would beat him black and blue, it's the way you would rub his back soothingly and shush his cries, never really understanding why he was so upset in the first place but still doing your best to be there for him.
 His father had sent his sister away overseas to some private school to better her education, so he truly was alone with his batshit crazy family situation. You provided him with unrequited love from an early age on, you were his safe haven, his sanctuary of sorts. It was true, you really were the only one who understood why he acted the way he did and you accepted him for it.
 He supposes he should feel more grateful to you, but like how every child is supposed to fly the coop and become independent, you had unknowingly trimmed his already-deteriorating wings and tethered him back to your welcoming, warm embrace.
 You had ruined him
 Almost a half hour went by between the three boys, discussing a wide range of topics, and for the first time in a while, Tenko was actually comforted by another guys’ presence. He wasn't worrying about shielding his body from ammunition, or keeping his greasy bangs in front of his eyes so he wouldn't have to meet anyone´s judgemental gaze.
 ¨Hey man, you should come over one day. I got a couple of GTA discs we can try out, or COD if that's more your thing,¨ Iguchi offers, reaching his clawed hand out. ¨Why don't we all exchange numbers?¨
 ¨Y-yeah, that sounds great! Hold on, lemme get my ph-¨
 But his excitement was cut short, when his hand patted empty pockets.
 Oh.
 He almost forgot.
 ¨Uhm, sorry, I kinda lost my phone yesterday. Maybe you guys could just write your numbers down here or something,¨ And he fished around his bag for an empty paper, pushing it across the dirty table to them. They didn't seem to mind-they promptly wrote down their digits in chicken scratch writing.
 ¨Got any trash?¨ He stands up, plucking a few plastic wrappers off his seat and extending his courtesy to them. They wave him off and he shrugs, making his way behind them towards the giant dumpsters.
 The second he drops the scraps into the bin, some force shoves him face first into the reeking cesspool of school lunches. He grabs the edge of the bin in a split second, ignoring the slimy substances he feels underneath his palms and whips around for the source of the assault.
 All he sees behind him is a retreating figure, with blond locks swaying with every sauntered step he takes away from the frazzled target.
 His phone wasn't as far as he thought it was.
 In fact, if he had the balls to follow the winged boy back to his table, he would've surely discovered his beat up phone case held captive in Hawks´s open bag. He would´ve also seen both boys keeping a miserable girl sandwiched between them.
 Tenko would´ve seen all of that from a distance, but you were there in your own skin, fighting the urge to rip out a certain purple-burned aggravator´s staples, and preventing yourself from diving into your burned backpack, pulling out a nasty pair of scissors and giving a special birdbrain´s wings a well-needed cut.
 ¨Why so quiet sweetheart? Nothing bitchy to say now?¨ Dabi seethes in your ear as he busies a hand in pinching the soft flesh of your thighs, a 2.0 to your torment in the classroom.
 ¨No,¨ you gripe, trying to finish your spring rolls. A feather plucks the roll from midair as you lift it towards your mouth, and redirects it into its owner's mouth.
 ¨Mmm, Dabi, your bitch can cook right. You should've told me my sister-in-law was such a domestic homebody, I would´ve defended her from your evil clutches sooner,¨ Hawks chuckles with a mouth full of food. His arm is draped over your shoulders, fingers dangling oh-so-close to your chest. Shoving them off even in the hallway proved to be futile after they both used their respective quirks into silencing you every time a teacher walked by and you attempted to open your mouth in a plea of help.
 ¨I´m not his fucking bitch, you brainless pigeon,¨ and even though you know you can´t fully move with how close their proximity is, you still try and push them off.
 But Dabi is having none of it, igniting his fingers on your thighs as his counterpart cooes at your irate state. Ignoring your gasps and writhes, he doesn't give a moment to prep you as he fully shoves his hand down your panties, your skirt bunching up further up your legs when he does. 
 You give him a desperate look, and he merely gives you a sneer in retaliation.
 ¨Where did you learn to talk like that? That shit´s not gonna fly with me when I put a ring on it, bitch. If I hear you mouthing off like that again I'll personally make sure there's a better use for that slutty hole,¨ and at that his fingers start moving and heating up again, Hawk´s arm forearm tightening around you to prevent you from making a scene while the ravanette circles calloused digits around your wet nub.
 He leans closer to your ear, and the rings adorning his lips feel cold against your skin. On the other side of you, the blond is smiling knowingly down at you, brushing his thumb against your neck. 
 You jerk as Dabi breathes into your ear, ¨But something tells me you wouldn't mind that too much. I mean if you´re not exactly screaming for help right now then I guess you must want this as much as I do. Fucking whore.¨
 You shake visibly at the strength Hawks is using to counter your escape attempts, Dabi´s fingers tweaking your clit hard every time you jerk your body to the side.
 ¨No, no, what the hell? I don't want this, I don't want anyone to see me like this-!¨
 ¨Oh, is that what it is? Even so, I'm sure you remember our little talk the day before, right? About me laying off your friend, if you just take it like a good slut. Don´t think I haven´t forgotten about him, Y/N.¨
 And then you still. Because of all the emotions running through your frantic head right now, you keep Tenko above all the other bullshit. He doesn't deserve your share of hell, he's already gotten his fill.
 Red silk and lace cloud Touya´s mind.
 ¨We´re just friends¨.
 ¨That's a good girl,” your fiance whispers, kissing your outer ear and laving his tongue across the rim of it. You whine quietly and try to draw further into yourself-which is miraculously allowed by the blond as Dabi tugs you closer into his black shirt, his fingers down your skirt and teasing your slick entrance.
 The Hawks watches you shamelessly, playing with a stray feather between his hands as Dabi descends his mouth to your neck, nipping you lightly and then harder when you squirm.
 Your seating position is most unfortunate, the boys having picked an area that most teachers don't pass through on account of other delinquents settling in as well. No one would bother them here, just passing it off as PDA that the rest of them have no shame in showing either.
 ¨Oh! I haven't asked about your family yet. That's what good fiances do, right Keigo?¨ Dabi exclaims suddenly, lifting his head to give the amused blond a knowing look. Hawks hums in assent, eager to see how much more you could take of their special attention. 
 ¨So did your mom ask how her beloved son-in-law is doing? You told her all about our quality time together?¨ His other hand creeps beneath your shirt, your stomach muscles clenching painfully tight at his unwanted contact.
 ¨Did daddy ask how I’m treating his precious little girl?¨
 You bite your lip hard and squeeze your eyes shut as your bra is moved up, fingers trailing upwards towards your nipple. Hawks´ eyes are glinting as he watches in silence, his pupils dilated at the scene in front of him.
 ¨Or, actually, maybe save that nickname for me. I'd love to be the first to break it to him that his princess has a new daddy, a better one who broke her faster than he ever could.¨
 A sob builds up in your throat. There´s 15 minutes left of lunch.
 ¨Maybe after we get married, we can just crash at your place,¨ he hides his mouth behind your hair, but you and Hawks can hear his low gravelly voice as he murmurs, ¨So they can hear me fuck the living daylights out of their precious baby girl...make sure you´re loud too, ´wanna let them know you´re a woman now. A married woman who´s gonna slave away for her husband, down on her hands and knees like she's supposed to-
 Ding ding ding
 His phone goes off, pausing him from his vile monologue.
 You exhale in relief when he growls under his breath at the interruption, reaching for the offensive device.
 But instead of pressing the decline button after seeing the screen, his face goes slack and pales tremendously.
 His hands retreat from their perverse activities underneath your clothes, and you turn to him fully surprised now. You try to lean over to see the caller ID, but your less-than-pleased fiance actually shoves you off of him, right into Hawks (who thankfully catches you).
 You look up at him who seems equally bewildered, and then at Dabi who holds the phone to his ear.
 He gulps and clears his throat before he speaks.
 ¨Hello?¨ It still holds his raspy tone, but you can't detect his usual snarkiness.
 There´s a pause as he listens, and then he gets up from the table and walks away without so much as a second glance to the both of you.
 Hawks, being a guy who's too fast and too smart for his own good, already has an inkling as to who could emit such a reaction from the arsonist.
 A wandering feather that brushes against your leg jerks you out of your stupor, and you flinch away from the warm body that caught you.
 He laughs a real laugh this time, not one with any malice or with undertones of perverseness in it as you scuttle back to the other side of the short table. You glower at the floor as he rests his elbow on the table, cheek in his hand. He tilts his head at you, very birdlike and for a moment in his open eyes, you can understand why Mirko likes him so much.
 But fuck if he wasn´t a total scumbag on the inside.
 ¨Aw come on sweetheart, you know I don´t bite. We just wanna mess with ya´, it's cute seeing you get all nervous and shy. I gotta admit, it's a nice change from your, ah, colorful language.¨
 Your head whips up to face him, and you let out a short, humorless laugh at his audacity.
 ¨Mess with me? Hawks, you guys are fucking assaulting me. It's not funny or cute, and I know your little innocent act is complete bullshit. I know what you guys do to Tenko, and the fact that you don't even stop Tou- I mean, Dabi from it shows you´re just as bad as him!¨ You bang your fist on the table, acting out now since the worst one out of the duo is out of commission for the time being.
 But instead of narrowing his eyes and shooting feathers at you to shut you up, he merely smiles wider and shrugs in indifference, never taking his eyes off of you.
 It's hard not to gape at him. What kind of world was he living in, where none of this had any effect on him? All this-this bullying and torment was just fun jests for him.
 But you know it's less pure with your betrothed. You know with him, it's some fucked up power-play, a show of dominance that you want no part in.
 You can't help but toss a glance to where he was now, 20 feet away and speaking intensely into the speaker.
 ¨You know, if you stopped fighting him and just gave in it would be a lot easier for you. He likes putting you down and getting a reaction out of you.¨
You don't tear your gaze away from Dabi, so you don't see Hawks lean in and take advantage of your distracted focus.
 ¨He gets off on it.¨
 His velvety voice rumbles right next to you, and you whip around and slap a hand over your ear as a shiver simultaneously passes through your body. He doesn't move, however, but merely leans back and throws an arm over the back of your seat, grinning like a madman.
 ¨See, this is exactly why I´m not giving in yet. What the fuck is wrong with you both? How could you think something so fucked up is funny? No wonder you both give Tenko hell-¨
You clamp a hand over your mouth, forgetting in your rage not to mention the taboo name. Your eyes search gold ones for any sign of similar hate that you find in cerulean orbs, but there is none.
 All he does is raise an eyebrow and strain his smile a little.
 ¨Between you and me, sweet thing, it really is in your best interest not to mention Shimura´s name around Dabi. I don't really know why he's got it out for that dude, but it doesn't really help Dabi calm down when his wife-to-be is prancing hand-in-hand around school with him.¨ Your lip curls in discontentment, and you feign a scowl at Hawks´ words.
 ¨Why does he even care? It shouldn't matter who I hang out with, it's not like I'm cheating on Dabi or anything. Besides, he doesn't even like me, he just wants some girl he can ruin.¨
 A few moments of silence pass, and then he speaks. What he says makes your heart seize up, and the butterflies kick in again, much to your disappointment.
 ¨Is that what you think? Man, you both have a long way to go, then.¨ You want to ask what he means, but you´re unfortunately interrupted when a very unwanted lanky figure plops next to you, jostling you to move over.
 ¨ ´Just had something to take care of,¨ is all Dabi offers as he starts packing up his stuff from the table.
 ¨Who was it? Was that your dad?¨ Hawks presses.
 Dabi´s eye twitches.
 ¨Yeah. ‘Was calling about some stupid assignment I failed, giving me shit about it.¨
 ¨He usually doesn't call you at school,¨ is followed by a raised gold eyebrow.
 ¨I know. I was actually almost excited for once-¨ Dabi laughs bitterly, and you just listen with your head down, utterly confused. What was the deal between him and his dad?
 And just in time, the bell for dismissal rings.
 Thank god.
 You silently pack your belongings as well, hoping that this time you could slip out and actually see Tenko for a couple of minutes if he was waiting for you like you told him to, but as usual, your beloved fiance intervened.
 ¨You´re always rushing off when the bell rings, doll. Where are you going in such a hurry? I hope our company didn´t make you uncomfortable or anything,¨ he snakes a hand around your waist and pulls you in tight, leering at you.
 ¨I just don't want you guys getting me late for class,¨ you mutter, avoiding his lecherous gaze.
 ¨You sure no one's waiting for you out there? Maybe we could both go and say hi to whoever´s taking up all your time-¨
 ¨Uh, no no! That's okay, I really was just making sure I wasn't late. We can go to class together though, no worries.¨ You quickly grab onto his jacket sleeve and look at him with big eyes and a little smile in a shameless, desperate attempt to deter an inevitable bloodbath.
 He raises his eyebrows at your volume and the way you clutch at him while simultaneously quelling the blush that creeps onto his face and the smoke that was comically coming out of his ears. If his fiance was throwing herself at him for the first time, then who was he to reject her?
 ¨Alright, let's go then,¨ he steers you out towards the entrance of the cafeteria, and you force your legs from grounding themselves and running in the opposite direction of where he was taking you. 
 You feel him squeeze you tighter, and you raise your head at him, startled to find him already looking you over with a strangely soft expression. It wasn't anything deemed romantic for sure, but it was a lot different than his usual sneers and scowls. Your stomach does somersaults at this new expression that was privy for your eyes only, his piercing blue eyes rendering you speechless.
 He looks so much better when his mouth is closed, and his eyes do the talking instead.
 However, Dabi does in fact open his mouth, not to spew venom, but to say something that makes your heart beat even faster.
 ¨Yḱnow, all jokes aside, you weren't too annoying at lunch. Maybe it's ´cause you kept your fat mouth shut with a shit ton of food, but you were pretty tolerable.¨ you quietly scoff at his backhanded compliment as you both exit the hall, Hawks trailing a couple feet behind you, both sides of his shoulders clutched by fangirls who seemingly spawned out of nowhere.
 ¨I´d say the same to you if you weren't feeling me up every five seconds and mouthing off like a-¨
¨-But, yeah, thanks for actually sitting with me. I really would like it if we did this more often,¨ he murmurs so quietly that you´d think he was talking to himself. He isn’t looking at you anymore, his gaze squinted as he navigates through the crowded and loud hallway. 
 You want to point out that technically he wasn't really giving you a choice of where to sit when he threatened you like earlier, but something in you tells you to stay quiet as he maneuveres your body around so that no other student would bump into you by accident.
 A sense of whiplash comes over you at that moment. Only a mere couple of minutes before he was calling you his bitch and terrorizing you, but now with that soft gleam in his eyes and the confession he was giving you, it feels like it was only you two at the moment regardless of the massive crowd swarming around.
 If Hawks was a little closer within earshot, you have a feeling that Dabi would be acting very differently, no doubt. But nevertheless, you swallow your apprehension and acknowledge his different aura.
 ¨Sure, Touya. We can sit together more often...as long as you lay off the handsy part, we haven't gotten there yet. We've barely been able to have decent conversations, but I´ll try if you try too.¨ While you say that, you subtly try to look around for Tenko but find it hard as Dabi maintains eye contact with you and pulls you along the school. You glumly give up as you both turn the corner to where the classes were.
 He ignores everything else you say, solely cherry picking where you said his real name, again. Dabi didn't particularly care for all the other bullshit you uttered, but he shuddered when you stroked a thumb against his hand. He was glad that their plus one had opted to not be in their faces at the moment, because it was nice for once to say something relatively normal to you. Because in the end, he might be a menace but he wasn't delusional. He really could see you as his wife, not just on her hands and knees like he had purred about earlier, but actually as someone who could offer him a new, better life than the one he had at his own home.
 He saw it in the way you gazed so softly at Tenko, saw it in the way your voice lilted higher and in the way you softly pull his scratching hand away from his marred skin
 The way your lips puckered as your mouth invited another bite of food made his chest ache with a weird feeling he couldn't quite place a stitched finger on. The scowl you gave him and Hawks both when you sensed they were about to fuck with you more made him want you in a way that he had never wanted anyone so close before. He wanted to be the reason your scowl would eventually turn into a smile, but for the meantime he knew he couldn't refrain from seeing fear and panic in your eyes. You were cute, with a body and a smart mouth to match. Dabi guessed that you were also taken aback by his sudden intimate gestures, and he couldn't help himself to hope that you had a slight inkling of what your presence was slowly starting to do to him.
 But if you thought that you had newfound leverage on him, or thought that he was wrapped around your finger by a small sentence he said, then you were more stupid than he was givng you credit for.
 Because the second you bit your lip and looked away after touching his hand lightly, he turned his head back and made eye contact with Hawks, giving him a knowing look.
 Hawks´ wings flex as he gives a cheshire grin to his counterpart, letting him know he already knew what to do.
 ¨Sorry girls, ´gotta head to class, can´t let my grades fall. I´ll catch you two later, yeah?¨
 He is met with simpering ¨yeah, sure!¨´s and ¨of course, text me though!¨ as they sashay away.
 ¨Definitely,¨ He chuckles, running a hand through his floppy hair.
 As if he would be caught dead texting Tweedledum and Tweedledee.
 But anyways, back to business.
 He cracks his knuckles and stretches above his head, letting out a satisfied groan as he leisurely pulls out a phone. It takes some scrolling before finding the message, and bingo, he finds the right hallway adjacent to the cafeteria after backtracking his steps a bit.
 Lo and behold, who was already there? That's right, none other than Tenko Shit-mura. Hawks´ eyebrow raises as he sends a quick message from Tenko´s phone, and pockets the device.
 ¨You´ve got balls, I´ll give you that.¨ Tenko whips around in horror as he puts the voice together with the person. His thumbs overlap each other and alternate to scratch at his scabbed arms and neck. It's something near a miracle to Hawks as he can't fathom why a girl of your stature would hang around with this degenerate. Sure, he himself had girls sucking his dick in every crevice of the school and outside, but at least he had a name for himself, and a reputation befitting of a god´s.
 This thing?
 ¨Oh, h-hey Hawks,¨ and the unamused blond curls his lip in disgust as Tenko´s wavering words were almost drowned out by the sound of vigorous scratching. ¨I was just waiting for Iguchi-¨
 ¨-And Atsuhiro, right? Funny, they left the caf´ at the same time you did, so why exactly are you here?¨ He smirks and folds his arms, leaning on the lockers.
 It was borderline hysterical how white Tenko´s face went, and Hawks distantly wonders how much whiter could his face go before real blood and veins were visible behind the mess of scarred facial features.
 Poor Tenko stammers and stutters over his words trying to find a good enough reason as to why he was lingering there, but he needn't worry so much, because unfortunately for him, Hawks knows exactly why.
 He holds up Tenko´s phone casually and grins at his ashen face as if they were old buddies.
 ¨Didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with other people´s toys?¨ Tenko makes a quick swipe at the phone suspended in midair, but only succeeds in getting sliced by a few directed feathers.
 He groans and clutches his now bleeding stomach, holding up a hand to see a thin line of red adorning his cracked skin.
 Hawks shrugs as if nothing had happened, and cocks his head at his victim. ¨I decided, if you can't learn to keep your nose out of other people's things then I have every right to keep yours.¨
 ¨Give it back man, I don´t know what your deal is, but if this is about Y/N then I swear I haven't been anywhere near her.¨ Tenko looks at him desperately and Hawks chuckles lightly, making the other´s heart sink.
 ¨Yeah, you have. You might be just as gross and sly as Dabi is, but you´re not smarter than me.¨ He waves the device in his snug hand. ¨She might just see you as her friend, but we both know you want her more than that.¨ Tenko loves you.
 ¨In my opinion, she looked better in red.¨ His steel colored head snaps to see his phone screen showing the messages he was so afraid of them finding out about.
 ¨That's not fair, that was so long ago, way before Y/N even knew Dabi.¨ ¨You think that's gonna matter to him?¨ He pushes himself off the wall and advances with his hands in his pockets towards Tenko, who is now frantically scrabbling back on all fours like a mutt. 
 ¨The fact that it even happened is a given that you´re a dead fucker now, Shimura. And don't think I don't see you two running around in the hallways trying to avoid me and Dabi, he sees all that too, y´know. We've both got eyes around the school.¨ He crouches in front of Tenko, and his grin turns ugly into a sneer when the shit-stain on the floor flinches and raises his hands up as if he were about to be hit.
 ¨Why does Dabi care so much about me and her? She´s gonna be married to him, not me. He gets her officially, not me.¨ Tenko says rather bitterly, in Hawks´ opinion.
 ¨He hates how close you are to her. He's jealous, simply put, at how well you know her, how you make her smile and put her at ease. It drives him crazy that some social reject like you has seen her body and the best and worst parts of her before he has, and that's why he lashes out at her. These pictures just prove to him that you need to be removed from the scene. Permanently.¨
 ¨Okay, I get that, but then why are you so involved with it? What are you even getting out of snitching for him?¨ Hawks´s eyes glint and darken, sending a sinister shiver down Tenko´s back. He licks his lips and leans close, giving a confession of his own.
 ¨´Cause if your guys´ shared whore screws up again, I might get a taste of her too. Personally, I couldn't care less about Dabi´s heart, but I wanna see why this girl is worth all this trouble.¨ The fallen soldier recoils slightly at his implication.
 Tenko forces himself to take deep breaths and to stop his shaking. He needs to get his phone back and go to the nurse before anyone sees this scene.
 ¨Just give me my phone back dude, please,¨ He hisses desperately, outstretching a gnarled hand.
 Hawks studies him for a moment. He was almost disappointed in Dabi that the flame user was so butt-hurt about this pathetic sack of bones being closer to his girl than he was.
 But that's what he gets when he holds onto a shred of hope that someone could be a candle to his everlasting flames.
 ¨Here,¨ and he takes momentary mercy on Tenko, tossing his phone on the ground in front of him.
 He starts walking away, wings ruffling with foreboding anticipation as he pulls out his own phone to send a message to the man of the hour.
 But before he does, he calls out over his shoulder a warning to the boy on the ground.
 ¨If you see her again, you won't be the only one getting buried that day¨.
 Tenko scratches his neck.
 *************
Ashtray: Was he there?
 2:00 pm: Yup, you were right. Guess they never learn, huh?
 Ashtray: Whatever, I have her phone and I just sent him the message. Send me a feather so I can send it back to her class
 2:01 pm: You deleted the message right?
 Ashtray: Obviously. You too?
 2:01 pm: Yeah, did it as soon as I saw him standing there
 Ashtray: Good. Make sure the area is clear after school
     Call Kai over too, I'm gonna need him when I'm preoccupied
 And unbeknownst to you, a velvet feather was indeed carrying a small cellular device on its back, weaving in and out of empty hallways to find your designated classroom.
 The silent plumage floats stealthily through the slightly ajar door and makes sure to stay low to the ground as it approaches your desk. Luckily there's an opening in your bag, so it quietly drops your phone inside while you tediously take notes.
 It can't help itself when your legs cross over themselves; you look so unassuming and innocent that it just has to get a quick taste. The feather travels up the expanse of your leg up to your inner thigh, and gently brushes against you, laying some pressure on it as well.
 From his own classroom, Hawks shivers in sickening pleasure when he senses the vibration of your gasp and the quickening of your heartbeat as you jolt and look underneath your desk.
 But you find nothing, the feather already having been directed to whizz out of the room and back to its owner.
 ¨What the hell,¨ you mutter to yourself as you brush the crawling feeling off your skin. You glance at your bag for a second, and then do a double take when you see the screen of your phone glowing.
 After taking a quick glance at your preoccupied teacher, you reach for the device and squint at the notification that shows on your lockscreen.
 One new message from Ten-ten.
 Ten-ten: Meet me behind the training grounds outside after school, its urgent
 Your brows crease in concern and you tap a message back to him.
 2:05: Are you okay? What happened?
 2:07: Where were you today after lunch? I didn't see you outside the lunchroom
2:06: And when did you get your phone back?
 2:10: Hello?
 And from across the school, Tenko is trudging away from the nurse's office back to his own classroom, frowning at your message as well.
 Y/N: Meet me behind the training grounds outside after school, its urgent
 He sighs and drags a gnarled hand down his weary face, stopping his fingers under his jaw to dig his nails into the thin flesh.
 2:06: We can't meet up again at school, Dabi and Hawks are gonna kill both of us
 2:08: I´m serious
 He's in his classroom now, and his unease has merely grown. You were usually so good at texting him back promptly, what´s wrong now?
 Biting a fingernail, he hesitates before using his other free hand to type some more.
 2:10: You okay?
 Almost 30 minutes pass, and Dabi is counting each second in anticipation.
 *********************
The sounding chime of the school bell causes Shimura to stop his periodic scratching and leg-bouncing, instead opting to shoot up out of his seat and bound out the classroom to where you said you were.
 Anxiety clouds over and erases all rational thought from his disturbed mind when he thinks of your lack of response.
 Were you mad at him? Were you safe?
 A stronger man with more self control would have resisted from going to check up on the girl that caused so much trouble for him, but Tenko was not a strong man. He was weak, and soft-willed, and if he was already getting the life beat out of him any other day because of his weakness, then what would one more catalyst be?
 His bony figure is ricocheted off various bodies as he bolts down the halls towards the back of the school, looks of disgust thrown his way and noses scrunched as he mutters occasionally, ¨Sorry, excuse me¨ and ¨My bad, I´m sorry¨. It doesn't deter him, he's used to the disdain by now and with the thought of you in mind he finally reaches the back of the Quirk Training facility, shoving through the double doors.
 Muted sunlight peeks through the large trees that loom over the area, the sky already turning a russet color in the beginning of its descent. He looks around wildly for you, and then he finally spots you in all your oblivious glory standing at the edge of the fence, your face slightly covered from the large sakura branches winding over the mesh.
 Tenko releases a breath he didn't know he was holding, and starts approaching you.
 You´re playing with the vines growing on the fence, but you turn around when you hear footsteps coming near.
 ¨Hey! What´s up?¨
 ¨I could ask you the same thing,¨ he says warily, looking you up and down to make sure you seemed unscathed. ¨What's going on? Why haven't you been answering any of my texts?¨
 You raise an eyebrow and laugh a little, thinking that he was messing with you.
 ¨Huh? You´re the one who called me here. And you didn't send any messages to me, look.¨ He grabs the phone that you thrust in his face, scratching lighty at his collarbones.
 You gently swat his hand away and watch as he thumbs through your chat log.
 His own brows furrow and he looks at you weirdly as he produces his own device, flipping the screen around and showing you the many messages he sent not too long ago.
 You squint at the blue light and look back up at him, mouth agape.
 ¨Wait, so you didn't call me here? I tried texting you too, but I didn't get an answer. I just thought you were busy or something.¨
¨Look, I don't know what's going on here, but we need to leave,¨ He says anxiously as he grabs your arm and starts to pull you around the corner. ¨This is weird, I don't like it-¨
 ¨Hold it you two.¨
 You both freeze, ice flooding through both your systems as you recognize the lazy voice.
 Slowly, you turn your head to face the last person you wanted to see in this state.
 Hawks is leaning casually against the brick wall, wings flared out to their fullest extent. Next to him is a new guy you´ve never seen before, a brunette with gold eyes like Hawks´ and a black beak mask to match. His hands are clad in white gloves, and he periodically keeps checking the watch on his pale wrist as if he has somewhere to be. 
 He's surrounded by cronies, tattoos covering the expanse of their bulky arms and baseball bats along with guns strapped over their heads or twiddling through their fingers.
 You think you´re going to throw up.
 Dabi is the first to speak, his guttural voice cutting through the thick, tense air like a serrated rusted knife.
 ¨Well, shit doll. I didn't think I'd have to break my future house slut so quickly.¨
 ¨Dabi, wait, there's been a misunderstanding-¨ ¨-And you,¨ he draws on as if you hadn't spoken. You tried to catch his eye but it seemed like he was purposely avoiding you, instead going for drilling invisible holes through Tenko´s head.
 If you had asked him, he was granting you mercy and your last shred of dignity by not letting you continue speaking, before he viciously strips it away from you. He feels as though if he hears your voice right now, the entire pavilion will go up in flames, including the chicken bastard and the Shie Hassaiki members.
 He stuffs his inflamed palms into his fire-deterrent pants to quell his unbridled rage. To anyone else he seemed at sick ease in having the upper hand, but in all honesty, Dabi would be lying if he said he really did wish you would have passed his test and not met with Tenko.
 ¨You´ve got a lot of balls to be talking to my bitch for such a dickless wonder. I thought after beating it into your skull for a couple of years that you'd understand where your place is.¨
 Out of the corner of your eye, a massive wooden bat swings towards Tenko and smashes against his head with a sickening thud.
 They must have surrounded you from the other side of the building too when you both were distracted.
 You scream so loudly you can feel your vocal cords vibrating in your throat. Everything seems to move ten times faster as you´re suddenly yanked back by invisible feathers, and dragged almost 15 feet away from Tenko´s unmoving body right into Dabi´s cruel embrace. 
 He harshly spins you around and shakes you like a ragdoll, staring you straight in your horrified eyes.
 ¨I told you not to hang around him, right? Well, if you don´t wanna listen to me, then at least listen to the beautiful sounds of your precious boy toy getting his skull bashed in.¨
And with that he spins you around again, a vice-like grip on your arms as he traps you against his hard body. You´re faced with front-row seats to watch the nauseating scene of Tenko indeed getting beaten to a pulp.
 ¨I´m going to make you fucking regret it,¨ He hisses in your ear, but you´re so dizzy with blood and teeth littering the ground filling your vision that you can´t even move.
 You vaguely hear Hawks tsk next to you, leaning against the wall and stretching his wings as if he had better places to be. As if watching a kid getting beaten half to death was something he saw every day.
 Grunts and jeering comments come from the large tattooed boys while they rain blow after blow on Tenko´s shuddering body. You can't even comprehend what kind of pain he´s in from the inhumane shrieks that come out of him. It was mesmerizingly terrifying how a human being could make sounds like the ones he was making, ranging from low wails of pleading mercy to high pitched cries of pain when they began kicking him.
 Feet pound on his back, crushing his paper-thin skin against the gravel, causing it to rip and tear,allowing rivers of blood to pool around his form. Now-cracked baseball bats become dented as they explode down on his head, and you distantly wonder how he's still alive with bits of hair and membrane clinging to the wood.
Your best friend flinches every time contact is made with his body; his fingers are curled and raised above his head to protect himself, and you think you can make out his chest puffing in and out a mile a minute. He might be having a panic attack, you´re not sure and you want to run to him, but the loud ringing in your head and the tears that cascade down your face are indications that you know you´re utterly trapped right now. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.
 ¨Stop,¨ you croak from the confines of Dabi´s arms, clawing at his jacket. ¨Please, stop, you're killing him.¨
 Dabi releases an arm to tap on his chin in mocking contemplation. ¨Hmm...tempting, but no thanks doll. This is supposed to be a lesson, not a freebie.¨ ¨Are we done from here?¨ A nasaly bored voice emerges from the background laughs and screams. The brunette with the beak-mask is standing a little away from Hawks, sighing and rolling his eyes.
 Is everyone here excluding you and Tenko a psychopath? How does Dabi even know them?
Not that you could say you were surprised, however. A man cruel enough to execute something like this surely has a heart blacker than coal.
 ¨Dabi, please!¨ you sob hysterically now, the pained noises coming from Tenko are coming out softer and less frequently now, you think he might die soon if one more bat slams into his ribcage. ¨I´ve learned my lesson, please, please don't do this to him.¨ you cry and beat your fists against his arms, which only squeeze painfully around your middle.
 ¨Nah, I don't think you have, actually. You said that last time, and look what's happening because of your lies,¨ he jeers at you, exchanging a smirk with Hawks.
 ¨I´ll do anything,¨ you whisper in desperation, looking at him full in his poker face.
 ¨Anything?¨ His brows raise gleefully, and you nod vigorously, not caring what that means for you, only concerned that the assault on the motionless body mere feet away from you stops.
 Dabi regards you for a moment, taking in your tears and wobbling lip, before he finally turns to the masked man, and gives him a curt nod. ¨Alright, we´re done here Kai. Take your guys and leave.¨
 The man named Kai dusts off his purple jacket and calls out for his boys to stop.
 ¨That's enough. We´re going.¨ He wrinkles his nose in afterthought. ¨And make sure you clean your stuff off, I don't wanna deal with bloody bats...god knows how many diseases that thing is carrying, ´looks like it has mange.¨ 
 That thing is currently groaning in difficulty to lift his face out of a puddle of his own blood, tears, and snot, almost choking on the mixed liquids invading his mouth and nostrils
 He blearily lifts his head ever so slightly, and sees you writhing in Dabi´s embrace, one of his forearms wrapped around the front of her throat and evidently choking you from the way you frantically gulp in air.
 He hoarsley whispers out your name, and you heave out another dry sob when you see his lips form your name in them. He painfully and slowly starts to rise up to his hands and knees, and it's like looking at a baby stand up for the first time from the amount of visible shaking you can see in his broken limbs.
 Dabi, you, Hawks, and Kai as well as the groupies all watch in awe as the stick-thin figure manages to elbow his way up, and Hawks scoffs in disbelief at Tenko´s grit. A man in his state shouldn't even be able to blink.
 Meanwhile, you can feel your fiance's arms tremble in barely concealed rage from watching the blatant act of disrespect.
 You want to tell Tenko to just stay the fuck down, and don´t piss them off further, but part of you takes savage pride in his perserverance.
 Is he just used to this? Is that why it's so easy for him to disregard the volumes of blood that come vomiting out of his mouth? How long has he been accustomed to places other than his heart being broken?
 It's hard not to cringe as he places his bloodied palms against the sharp concrete; you can see tiny pebbles embed themselves in his open wounds, and his fingers bend in unnatural ways as he elevates himself and maintains eye contact with just you.
 You think he's crying, but it's hard to tell when your own vision is blurry.
 It´s quiet for a moment after everyone witnesses Tenko´s own version of a fuck you, until Kai turns on his heels, his boys immediatley scrambling towards their leader as he makes to leave.
 He walks towards Hawks, and you can hear him murmur, ``You owe me.¨ He gives a curt nod to Dabi who merely grunts.
 Hawks, ever the optimist, laughs joyfully and reaches out a hand towards the beaked boy. ¨Of course man! We'll be in touch soon.¨
 Kai merely waves his hand in a resemblance of a farewell, crinkling his nose at Hawks´ outreached one. He rounds the corner, his boys smirking in tow, and then they´re gone. As if nothing has happened.
 The silence grows louder, deafening your ears. The only reprieve you get from feeling mounting terror of being vulnerable without anyone around is when Tenko starts hacking, his arms buckling underneath his weight in an effort to keep upright.
 And then they surround you.
 ****
 ¨What's with the tears baby? You knew this was gonna happen, we warned you-¨
¨-Scared you´re gonna end up like him? Good, but I´ll be honest, I think cum would look better coating your face-¨
 ¨-You didn't actually think I was gonna let you get away with this shit again, did you? God you´re such a spoiled slut, I´m gonna enjoy breaking you down like your parents never did-¨
 Shoving you around and into each other, groping you, leering right in your personal space, advancing towards you so that you stumbled backwards closer to Tenko.
 ¨No, stop, leave me-us alone, stay away from me!¨ You scream, and Dabi wraps an inflamed hand around your upper arm, racking up the volume of your cries.
 ¨Shut the fuck up. You don't get to complain anymore, you're gonna finish your punishment you little brat.¨
You wail as you wrench yourself out of his grip, fueled by pure adrenaline. Ignoring your searing flesh, you try running around them but with a lazy flick of Hawk´s wrist, numerous feathers catch you around your collar and feet, pulling you back. Your thrashing only serves in getting cut up more, and they deposit you less-than-gently right next to Tenko.
 He watches with wide eyes and shakes his head with urgency for you to leave, to run again, but his head is forcefully slammed to the ground by the blond´s boot. You hear a crunch from his nose and bile rises from your throat as you try scrambling towards him out of instinct.
 ¨Do you have a death wish? Stop worrying about him, and worry about yourself for a second doll, you´re gonna want to.¨ A scarred hand grabs your chin and yanks it to face him. His lips are curled back, his lids lowered and his eyebrows are raised.
 You jerk your head back and spit in his face. ¨You´re not gonna get away with this Touya.¨ You don't even care about using his other moniker anymore. ¨How the fuck can I not worry about him? Look at him! You´re the crazy one!¨
 He snickers and crouches to your level, moving forward until your rapid crab-walk backwards results in your back hitting the brick wall.
 ¨You hear that Keigo? I´m gonna pay for this, oh no, however will I recover?¨ He simpers, joining in Keigo´s boisterous cackles. 
 You risk a panicked glance at Tenko. At least there wasn't a boot on the back of his head anymore, but you didn't gain any comfort when he was roughly grabbed by his shirt and lifted up to a sitting position facing you, Hawks smugly holding his head up from rolling around in its socket. 
  His face was a mess. You could barely recognize his thin, narrow features anymore when his whole head was caked with splotches of liquid red, mud, and gravel piercing his cheeks. His mouth was gaping, filled with yet even more blood, and where his teeth used to be was instead gaping holes and vermillion-stained cracked bone
 Now that he's sitting somewhat upright, you can clearly see protrusions where his ribs are, clearly indicating breaks and torn ligaments.
 But your attention is directed to the monster in front of you. He rests a burning hand on your calf, and you whimper as you try to pull back from the unbearable pain. You were certain that if when you got out of here, you´d need to go to an infirmary immediately.
 Touya stops your leg from retreating, holding it down while simultaneously trailing his digits up your leg, crawling forward even closer to you with the most disgusting shit-eating grin on his face while doing so. All your pleas of ¨Stay back¨ and ¨Don't come any closer Touya, I swear-!¨ does nothing to deter him, rather goading him on while your audience of two watches in horror from one man and perverted amusement with the other.
 ¨Yeah? Or what, huh? You gonna hit me with your quirk? Oh wait, you don't have one.¨
 He straddles you, pressing his chest against yours and shamelessly looking down when your breasts swell from the pressure. You bite your lip and turn your head, taking in quick inhales to avoid breathing in too much of the smell of smoke.
 ¨Nuh-uh princess, I want your eyes on me now when I fuck you. I’m gonna show you who daddy is today.¨
 You don’t know what kind of adrenaline rush you experience when the words slip out, “That’s rich from the guy who practically creamed his pants when he talked to his own daddy. Why don’t you solve your own daddy issues before starting mine, huh?”
 He slaps you so hard you see stars within the setting sun.
 It's hard to tell who hates who more at the moment, but regardless, it doesn’t stop Dabi from grabbing your cunt and squeezing hard.
 Your lids fly open and your head snaps forward to face him in sheer panic, the moment of bravado gone as the chemicals pumping through your brain catch up to your heart.
 ¨Wait, no-¨
 In one fluid movement, he clenches his thighs on either side of yours, and uses his legs to flip you over. With the same momentum, he grabs your arms and yanks you to the new switched position; him against the wall and you in between his legs, back to his chest.
 In another time, Touya would have been secretly overjoyed being pressed against you so intimately like this. It almost felt domestic, not that he knew anything about that word, but it was the closest feeling he could pinpoint to it. His heart was pounding, and he wondered if you could feel it against your back.
 He hoped you could.
 The vague sounds of Shit-mura noisily inhaling through his broken nose only bothered him slightly, the feeling of his counterpart´s greedy eyes scanning your body and his hold on you barely registered. He was in a zone of his own at that moment, just the two of you, regardless of the circumstances. 
 Touya didn´t actually think of this as a punishment, no, he thought of this simply as an opportunity to unapologetically make love fuck you and show you how much he wants you who´s boss. Nothing personal, just business. You have to learn how to please your husband eventually right? Might as well let him show you how a woman is supposed to act in front of a man.
 It was just pure bad luck for you that you got saddled with a man who wants you to act like a whore for him.
 ¨Yo, Keigo, help me out here, the bitch won't stop moving.¨ He grunts out, struggling to subdue your flailing limbs. Despite him amping up the temperature in his palms against your stomach and arms, you still continued to try and escape him. 
 He couldn't bear to do any worse, the tears rolling down your face already made his heart feel funny and he didn't want to feel anything anymore.
 Hawks sighed dramatically and unleashed a few of his feathers to aid Dabi. Immediately your wrists were pinned to your sides, your feet weighed down by the sheer force of the plumage. You break down and sob to your heart's content, knowing that you were done for.
 Touya feels your body slacken, and he quickly put out the fire in his fists.
 ¨Watch the show, Tenko. I know you´ve been dying for a piece of this ass for a while, anyways.¨
 Hawks jerks Tenko´s chin forwards, ensuring that his attention was on you as Dabi began feeling you up, relishing in how your rib cage shook with heaves as you shook in his arms. He shoved his hands underneath your shirt and lifted the hem up all the way over you, the feather pulling your arms above you for easier access.
 A sudden breeze rattled you to your core, but it wasn´t just the weather that made your teeth chatter.
 It was the sick desperation and rapt attention in Tenko´s eyes. It was Keigo was looking you over with lowered lids, palming himself and hissing when Dabi took a mismatched finger and pulled your bra cups down ever so slightly, teasing the boys with cleavage and a hint of areola.
 ¨Touya, please,¨ you squint your eyes shut and turn your head away from salacious gazes. ¨If-if you´re gonna do this, please don't let them watch.¨
 ¨Nah sweetheart,¨ he simpers as he burns the straps off your undergarment, allowing the sheer protection to fall to the gravel. ¨You wanted to whore yourself out, right? Well, this is what happens to little whores who don´t wanna keep their legs closed.¨ His voice is right at your ear, nipping and suckling the senstivie flesh while his ruthless hands take handfuls of your tits and squeeze them, rub them together, weigh them appreciatively in his scratchy flesh.
 ¨Fuck, flick her nipples a bit, I wanna see them get hard,¨ Keigo groans out, yanking Tenko´s bleeding head. ¨You like this, you little perv? You like watching your best friend get raped?¨
 ¨N-no, no I don't! Leave her alone!¨ And even if it wasn´t from Keigo shoving him down and wrestling for his zipper to pull his hard dick out, you would've already known he's lying from the way his bloody mouth opens slightly and drools watching Dabi pinch and roll your nipples.
 You keen and whimper as Dabi leans his head down past your neck and lifts a breast up, darting his tongue out and swirling the appendage over your hardening buds. The feathers prove to be useful when they hold your wrists down and prevent you from escaping him.
 ¨Holy shit, he's actually hard from this. You´re even more fucked up than I thought, Shimura, I´m almost impressed.¨ The beaten boy cries out and pathetically tries to remove his member from Keigo´s tight fist, but obviously is no match for the way the blond fucks the skinny dick in his hand, squeezing almost painfully at his tip. With the help of his other feathers, he frees his own length and teases himself, the red turning white at the tips as they collect his precum.
 Dabi says nothing, but keeps his eyes on Tenko as he moves your body up into his lap, settling your ass right on top of his erection. You inhale shakily as he too fumbles to release his aching cock from his jeans, your nose clogged from crying and your voice hoarse from screaming. He lifts your skirt up and hisses in appreciation at the direct contact your panty-clad ass gives, suffocating his dick in your warmth.
 The experimentally thrusts lightly a couple times, jostling you up and down and making your tits bounce. Keigo and Tenko look in awe, the feathers and hands moving rapidly in time with Dabi´s thrusting. You try to avoid eye contact with either of them or their leaking dicks.
 You feel like your heart is a runny mess, you´re a mess, your hair is fucked up, your clothes are being strewn on the ground and burned away, your skin is being molested, you don´t know what the fuck is going on or what to do.
 So instead of pleading, you decide to relent and get this over with quickly. The less resistance you show, the faster you can get Tenko to an E.R.
 And speaking of faster, Dabi has stopped grinding against your ass in favor of snaking a hand around and toying with the hem of your panties, holding your skirt up.
 You bite your lip and your eye twitches, but you stay silent save for shuddering inhales through your nose.
 Taken slightly aback by your lack of complaint, Dabi hesitates for a moment before shaking it off, delving his fingers into your panties, the cloth moving and bulging out from his hand sliding in and out of your folds.
 You whimper and jerk your hips minutely in instinct, and he feels it, much to your horror. He grins and takes it as encouragement, circling his digits through your little-more-than folds until he finds the clit by the way you jump at contact.
 He presses down, flicks it, circles it, gathering lube from your mutinously throbbing cunt to slick yourself up, thoroughly enjoying your sharp inhales and the way you can´t help moving against the invading actions.
 It's only when Keigo calls out that Dabi remembers he's not doing this to please you, he´s doing this to fuck you over just like how you did to him. 
 ¨Pull her panties off, I think our little vouyer here is gonna come soon,¨ he positively purrs as he presses a thumb against Tenko´s jerking hips.
 More blood has covered Shimura´s head and body, but even amongst the mess of flesh that was once his face you can clearly see his eyes wide open, pupils blown black with lust, bones actually audibly rattling in their broken sockets as he breathes heavily at your corruption. 
 He looks insane, more insane than the ones actually raping you. You wonder if you feel more violated by the obvious monsters who told you straight up what they were going to do to you, or the one who swore to be your friend, who swore to never relish in your pain.
 You´re brought out of your empty contemplation when Dabi neglects fingering your clit to yank your skirt off your shaking legs. He doesn't even bother with slowly stripping the panties off, impatience overriding better judgement. You again offer little to no resistance as he does so, which riles up the squeamish feeling in his heart.
 Now fully exposed to him, his cock stretches another couple of millimeters, looking like it's going to burst from the angry red and purple swelling it adorns.
 Keigo whistles and licks his lips, lecherously looking over your tits and exposed pussy all for the taking.
 He pulls your hips back and forces you to hover right above his standing cock, causing your knees to shake in exertion. You feel like you´re going to faint any second.
 ¨You ready doll? Ready to take your husband´s cock for the first time?¨ He cooes, bringing you lower and swiping the weeping slit of his prick against the wetness of your folds. You mewl and try to shift, but it only serves in him pulling you down even more, your labia ever so slightly enveloping the top of his tip.
 Your cunt is pounding with rushing blood, and he almost gasps as the sensation flows into both of your sensitive bits.
 Leaning forward, he conceals his mouth behind your hair as he mutters, ¨Try to relax for me, it´ll hurt less.¨
 You can't care less for his consideration, not when his jerky thrusts feel like they're splitting you in two. All your poor pussy is aware of is the blinding white-hot pain felt on every wall as Touya takes from you what you would not willingly give.
 The sounds of your squelching hole-whether from blood, precum, your own tears, who knows-fill the air obscenely. You mistake a glance upwards in your blurry vision and you nearly vomit when you see Hawk´s hand furiously bobbing up and down Tenko´s flushed red dick, and his own being caressed with lust. They look like fucking dogs drooling over your state.
 You´re brought out of your horrified reverie when Dabi hisses. He fully sheathes himself inside you and you mewl at the sensation of being filled. Liquid trails down where you two connect, and it feels disgusting as he pulls out only to slam back into you, the cooling wetness of said liquids splashing everywhere and onto the concrete below you.
 Your tits bounce up and down as Dabi takes his sweet time pulling out all the way only to give you a moment's reprieve before diving back into the wet cavern. Eyes rolling back into your head at the feeling of his veiny dick thrusting in and out of you, mouth open when he remembers to heat up his hands and play with your nipples, your legs shaking when he alternates to play with your clit, you look like a real slut.
 Tenko cums suddenly, crying out and jerking his hips up into Hawks hand when you let out an especially pornographic moan. Ropes of white shoot up like a fountain from his tip and splatter Keigo´s hand and the pavement.
 Keigo cries out and laughs in disgust, wiping his soiled hand into Tenko´s hair.
 ¨You see that? Look how perfect and sweet your little friend is now, Y/N,¨ Dabi pants into your ear, yanking your hair back and forcing you to look at your ex best friend.
 ¨No, d-don´t wanna look, please let go,¨ you babble as he fucks you stupid.
 ¨Shut up. Whores don't get to beg for mercy,¨ He sneers as he slaps a bouncing tit, hard.
 ¨The same should apply for cucks like him,¨ Keigo speaks up and slaps the back of Tenko´s head, sending blood and hair flying off his face.
 Dabi stops pounding into you, allowing you to take a merciful breath despite what he said.
 ¨Yeah? You think so?¨ Shimura snaps out of his daze when he realizes they´re talking about him. He shakes his head frantically and tries to tuck his softening cock into his pants but a red feather is quick to restrain him.
 ¨Uh-uh, pathetic bastards like you need to get their dues too. We let you off easy with the Shie Hassaiki,¨ He snickers.
 ¨Come one. Lick this mess up. I'm sure you dreamt about it before, closet perv.¨ Dabi sneers as the blond´s boot sends Tenko flying forwards, almost colliding with your stomach.
 You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling shakily as he gets back up on his hands and knees. You can't bear to look at him right now.
 They all disgust you.
 ¨What did I just say, slut? Eyes open.¨ A patched hand slaps you and your head is snapped forwards mere inches from Tenko´s. 
 Your gazes meet, but you can't recognize the eyes anymore. They used to belong to a man´s but now they reflect that of a monster´ s.
 ¨Clean this mess up. Any time this little pussy drools you´re going to eat it up like the roach you are. And if by the time she's done riding and I see a single patch of slick on her I'll knock the rest of your teeth out, got that?¨ Dabi reaches his arm around and pulls the weak boy´s hair forwards until his nose nestles where your filled pussy is.
 All you can do is watch as he hesitantly darts his tongue out and licks from Dabi´s engorged dick up to your clit.
 ¨Fuck you,¨ you whisper to no one and everyone as you let your head fall back, signaling to your finance that you were in enough pain to start up again.
 ¨You´ve had enough rest. Ride my fucking dick until I say stop.¨ He doesn't need to threaten you this time. You shakily rise up on your knees and twitch when he slaps your ass suddenly. The entire time you lift yourself up, Tenko´s tongue follows up Dabi´s exposed length until it swirls around your clit again.
 You feel numb. 
 Sinking back down onto him is even more excruciating because you can vividly feel every inch of him scraping up against your walls. It doesn't help that a certain tongue is lapping away at you too.
 But nonetheless you don´t waste any time bouncing up and down like your life depended on it, which it probably did.
 You can hear him panting behind you, his mouth letting out ragged breaths against your ear, his mouth desperately trying to suck galaxy colored hickies into your naked torso as you envelope him.
 The feeling of Dabi and Tenko´s breaths puffing onto your clit and nipples would´ve caused the start of a climax if it weren't for Keigo´s unnecessary commentary.
 ¨Holy fucking shit that´s so messed up. Wait no, move down a bit, lick the base of his dick. Yeahhh, just like that.¨ He walks around the scene with his phone out, obviously recording as he leans in toward some anatomy and pulls away to get the bigger picture at other angles.
 And Tenko actually listens. He follows through every salacious order Keigo gives, he even does it a little bit better than someone who's supposed to at least pretend they're not enjoying your ordeal.
 You can tell Dabi is reaching his peak when he suddenly grabs your hips in a bruising grip and slams you down on his length, emitting a broken scream from you. He quickly slaps a hand over your mouth and spews filth in your ear as he uses you like a fleshlight.
 ¨You like bouncing on my dick like a whore? Huh, Y/N? Answer me you little bitch, or are you too cock hungry to say anything else? Not enough dicks here to satisfy you, princess? Keigo, get over here, she looks like she needs more.¨ You wail and scream behind his hand as Keigo eagerly stands over you, his member already being pumped in a hand.
 ¨That's right slut, you already know what to do, don´t you? I bet a slut like you has practice, ´bet you and the degenerate licking the cum from your pussy did it all the time.¨ You look imploringly at his head ducked between your thighs and even clench them around his head to get his attention. But he refuses to refute the accusations hissed at you in favor of eating your own slick off your puffy folds.
 Keigo waits no longer as he seizes your hand and slaps it against his base, silently urging you to stroke him. You wearily look up at him and are faced with a bright camera light trained on your fucked-out face and trembling hand. Knowing that you were stuck, you started stroking, accepting whatever pace he made you take as he lifted his hips up into your cupped palm, his balls smacking against your wrist while you jacked him off.
 Dabi´s pants grew louder and more choked as every part of you became occupied with cocks. He still kept a hand over your mouth, bringing it up to his mouth every couple of seconds to taste the tears that slid down from your eyes down to his digits.
 ¨´Gonna cum, and you´re gonna take it all in that sloppy hole of yours. ´M gonna fill you up with cum and make you fat with my kids, you´re gonna be on your fucking hands and knees for me like a good little housewife aren´t you-¨
 The third time he brings his hand away to taste your tears you frantically gasp out, ¨Don´t do it inside Touya, please don´t, not inside I'm begging you to-¨
 But you´re cut off suddenly when Tenko teeths at your slicked clit, and you mewl, unconsciously rolling your hips into his mouth even more.
 His tongue travels around your stretched labia and around Dabi´ś balls, causing you both to hiss in unison.
 ¨I'll do whatever the fuck I want. You´re lucky I´m not fucking you up the ass, you ungrateful bitch.¨
 His dick starts twitching in your pussy, and you know he's about to burst.
 ¨I´ll never forgive you.¨ You whisper in defeat, for the umpteenth time.
 ¨I don't need you to,¨ he merely grunts as he cums inside you with a loud groan.
 His body shakes and he pulls your naked back against his torso, hugging you tightly and filling you up. At the same time, Keigo also lets out a string of curses as your hand is doused with milky white substance from his own.
 Dabi grabs your jaw and turns you to face him. ¨Who do you love?¨ he purrs, nuzzling your cheek with faux affection.
 You force yourself to make it sound faux, because you hate the way he looks so deeply into your eyes.
 ¨Y-you.¨ ¨That´s a good girl,¨ he whispers and kisses you, hard.
 You´re slumped. There´s mixed cum from all four people coating your body, various fluids and anatomy strewn on the concrete around you, and clothes shuffling in place as they regroup themselves. 
 Tenko slowly crawls back up from his position in front of your cunt, rearing back on his knees and wiping streaming blood from his head. Keigo tucks his dick back in his pants and cruelly wipes the cum that flew on his clothes into your hair, while Dabi dumps you off his lap onto the grating ground.
 ¨Well, I hope you two learned your lesson today,¨ Keigo simpered with scrunched eyebrows, pouting at you both.
 By now the inky haired man has gotten to his feet, brushing his hands off excess grime. 
 ¨That was fun, I should've done this a lot sooner, honestly,¨ he leers at both the figures on the ground, and you refrain from looking anyone in the eyes. ¨I´m gonna take her home. Keigo, deal with this fuckwad while I'm gone. And get him an ice pack, he looks like pure shit.¨ He snorts to himself.
 ¨How considerate of you Touya. And here I was thinking you didn't have a heart.¨
 You and Tenko don´t join in their vicious laughter.
 ¨Aw come on sweetheart, the worst is over. I doubt you´ll go through that again, since you know what'll happen if you continue to act out.¨ Your fiance crouches down and starts shoving your limbs back into their clothes, ignoring the way you weakly try to evade his callous touch.
 Everyone stares in silence as you´re dressed like a child, unable to properly move from the shock and trauma you just endured. It was weird seeing you so quiet. They thought you would´ve still been crying, or at least fighting back now that they no longer had a hold on you.
 But you were so, so accommodating as Touya pulled you up to your feet, keeping a firm grasp around your waist to keep your knees from buckling. You kept your head down as he grabbed your backpack from a helping feather´s elevation and slung it over his own shoulder.
 ¨I´ll catch you later Kei. Keep me updated on our little experiment,¨ he winks before steering you around the corner.
 That was the last time you saw Tenko Shimura, your best friend of years.
 ¨E-experiment?¨ His hoarse voice questions, nasally from the buildup in his broken nose.
 ¨Yeah, you heard right. You´re our little experiment, Shimura. Truth be told, I always saw the potential in you. After Touya showed me those texts between you and Y/N it just confirmed my suspicion.¨ Keigo plucked a feather out and tossed it to Tenko´s gnarled hand. ¨Here, use this to wipe that shit off your face. I´m not in the mood to drag you to a nurse right now so this´ll have to do.¨
 ¨Potential? Suspicion? I don't get it,¨ he brings the feather up painfully down the sides of his cheeks, collecting the grime and gore onto the victimized plumage.
 The blond grimaces at the disgusting sight and looks away. ¨I mean, I see the potential in you to be one of us. I knew you weren't this goody-two shoes, quiet loser that everyone made you out to be. And you really proved it today, too. I didn´t know you had it in you all the way to eat her cunt like that while she was getting raped, shit was pretty erotic if I´m being honest.¨
 Tenko cringes at the brutal choice of words but doesn´t refute them. He stays quiet before Keigo realizes he needs some more coaxing out of his cautious state.
 ¨Hey, look man, none of that stuff earlier was personal, alright? Touya just needed to prove a point to his bitch, that's all.¨ He shrugs so easily, as if everyone was as delusional as him to believe that.
 But maybe Tenko really had snapped, because he turned to Keigo with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, taking in his words.
 ¨Really? I thought you guys hated me,¨ he mutters, looking down at the soiled feather in his hand.
 ¨Nah, it's nothing like that. Just gotta prove to us how you´re different, y´know?¨ Hawks slings an arm and wing around Tenko´s bruised shoulder as if to offer him some security.
 ¨You don´t wanna be a loser anymore, right? Consider this a new chapter in your life, the next big steps.¨ ¨Yeah.¨ ¨Good.¨ They stay like that for a couple moments of silence, drinking in the setting sun.
 And then Tenko can´t hold his curiosity any longer.
 ¨But how do I do that? There´s nothing really about me that´s special...I mean, except for...however the hell I was acting like earlier,¨ he shifts uncomfortably, recalling the thirst he felt when he saw your sopping cunt getting fucked stupid. It was strange, really. The itch in his body had never felt more satiated when he felt like the oppressor once, rather than the oppressed when watching your eyes fill up with tears, knowing that he was the one who caused it. He had never felt that calm and pleased even when the itch was satisfied by your soothing fingers over his scratched-raw skin.
 ¨That's what I'm thinkin´ too,¨ Keigo thoughtfully holds a hand to his chin, his wings flapping lazily with the cool breeze. ¨I´d say the first step to a new chapter with us is to change that dopey schoolboy name. Tenko Shimura? That sounds like a dog´s name. And you don´t wanna be a kicked around puppy anymore, do you?¨
Tenko vigorously shakes his head. 
 A new chapter with us.
 Us.
 He swallows hard, unable to think of a cool name that would be good enough as a new group member. The shock on his body was catching up, so he forfeited his pride and sought help from his recruiter.
 “Did you have anything in mind?”
 Hawks hums thoughtfully. “Yeah...how ‘bout Tomura? Tomura Shigaraki?” He looks over ex-Tenko’s broken body and nods in confirmation.
“Tomura...Shigaraki,” the new Tomura says slowly, letting his tongue run over his missing and broken teeth in the midst of testing out the new name.
 “The kanji for it has to do with change and mourning, something like that I think. It’s pretty fitting, especially since you’re letting go of your past and moving on with your life...right?” Keigo side eyes Tomura mischievously, knowing he was in no place to defy him.
 Shigaraki merely looks to the horizon, silently acknowledging the new chapter of his life. Another cold breeze swirls around the two men, but it's not the sting of the wind that brings newfound tears to Tenko Tomura’s eyes.
 He shakily rises to his feet with a grunt, clutching his ribs and tilting his head back to avoid breathing in anymore drying blood. Keigo gets up with him, outstretching a hand towards him to steady him on his feet, which Tomura takes.
 “I think I need to see a nurse.”
 The blond laughs, his wings fluttering with the waves of his voice.
 “Almost forgot about that. But y’know, you should be more careful next time you train with us. I don’t think your body can take any more damage than it already has.”
 ******************
 You haven’t returned any of Touya’s calls.
 You haven’t received any messages from Tenko.
 You didn’t get out of bed when you saw a red feather zooming past your window in the morning.
 You’ve been home for three days now, huddled under the comforters and only getting up to drink some water like a zombie. Showers are a no-go, it’s unbearable to look at your own naked body anymore. The school kept ringing your parents for your attendance, but the image of you stumbling home and bursting into tears is fresh in their minds; they let the calls go to voicemail.
 Tenko’s broken body. His screams of agony. Dabi’s hands all over you, Hawk’s feather holding you down, your body shifted and positioned like a ragdoll-it’s all too much, you can’t face anyone yet. You’re absolutely terrified.
 A knock at the door jolts you out of your catatonic state.
 “Honey? You want something to eat? We haven’t seen you come out today…” Your father’s voice trails off unsuredly, and after some harsh whispers coming from behind the door and scuffling sounds, your mother speaks.
“You need to move around sweetheart-”
 Your body jolts violently when she says that cursed nickname.
 “Ahh come on sweetheart, the worst is over.”
 “-did something happen with you and Tenko? You two haven’t talked in so long, you usually never argue like this.”
 A burning comes up in your chest as your stomach rumbles, bile rising up your throat. You want them to leave. Now.
 “I’ll-” you cough and clear your raspy voice from disuse. “I’ll be out in a bit, ‘head hurts.”
 “Are you sure? We can come get it for you, we don’t mind-”
 “-No, I’m fine. Please just...just give me some time.” You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut, silently willing them to go away.
 It’s only until the sound of their footsteps padding away from your door that you rigidly rise out of bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand.
 2 missed calls from Rumi, 3 text messages from Touya, and nothing from Tenko.
 Was he alive?
 With trembling hands, you punch in his contact and pull up your messages.
 3:04 pm: We need to talk.
 You sigh and throw the phone back on the table, running your hands down your face. You just wanted things to go back to normal, when you and him were okay, when you werent engaged to Touya, when they didn’t turn him into a monster who ate you out while you bounced up and down and up and fucking down on your rapist’s-
 No. You can’t think like that. You can’t. That wasn’t him, they made him do that.
 At least, that’s what you tell yourself in order for your sanity to remain on its barest of threads.
 Time moves at a snail’s pace as you find things to do that distract you from checking your messages every five minutes. Soggy leftovers are pushed through your throat, the t.v blares while you watch without actually seeing, your bedsheets are made and remade into perfection...but nothing prevents you in the end from snatching up the device and checking for his text.
Nothing. Absolutely nada.
 Just a “read” sign that makes you see red.
 Who the fuck did he think he was? He wasn’t the fucking vitcim, you were-
 Oh. But he was, just as much as you were.
 Anger curls into anxiety as you nibble your lip in contemplation. Was he mad at you?
 It was your fault in a way.
 You try calling him, no one picks up.
 If he was going to flat out ignore you, then you knew there was only one way to corner him for talking.
 And corner him you did, when on a bright Wednesday morning you decide to go to school, for nothing else if not hounding Tenko down and seeing if he was okay. You didn’t know if he deserved it, but you just had to see him once.
 You wait outside his front gate, idly watching the sky turn from a deep purple to mix in with hues of orange and blue. After a few minutes, the door creaks open and you whip around to face him.
 It’s only been a few days since you two last saw each other, but at that moment when he turns and his eyes go wide from seeing you, you feel as though you’ve never known him before. Not his tangly hair that hangs in front of his face, not the new bruises and bandages on various parts of his body, and not the sneer his mouth curls into, that is oh so reminiscent of-
 “Where have you been? You didn’t answer your phone…” You trail off confusedly as he practically shoves past you through the gate, ignoring the way you stumble from the impact of his bony shoulder.
 “Hey, wait up!”
 You do a light jog after him but your heart is pumping at light speed, uncertainty creeping up your spine at his behavior.
 “Tenko, stop!”
 “It’s Tomura, now, Tomura. Don’t call me by that dopey ass name anymore.” He stops in his tracks and looks down at you as you pant and stare at him.
 “T-Tomura? What’s that? And answer my question, where have you been?”
“Yeah, fucking Tomura Shigaraki to you. And I’ve been doing my own thing now. I’m not wagging my tail behind you like a fucking lapdog anymore, got it?” He shoulders his bag and continues to walk past you.
 “What the hell are you talking about? Why are you so upset at me, I didn’t even do anything!” You walk backwards side by side with him, desperately trying keep up with his curt pace.
 “Oh right, you’re just so innocent aren’t you? I should’ve left you from the start, honestly. Keigo was right.” “Keigo? When did you talk to him? He assaulted you! How could you even face him? “You say that as if he’s the one who made me like this.” He gestures to his barely healing body, and your breath catches in your throat.
 “Wait...you’re blaming me?”
 “Finally got it Einstein?” He sneers at you. “You did this to me, you made Keigo and Touya beat the shit out of me. If you had just listened to them and left me the fuck alone, I wouldn’t have suffered half as much as I already have.”
 You ball your fists and try to swallow the growing bulge in your throat. You thought your sanity would be kept intact for a while longer, but you feel the last threads barely hanging on.
 “Tenk-Tomura, please just wait a second,” You say desperately, not even thinking before grabbing onto his shirt sleeve. You want to hold him here forever, you want to go back, you want things to be the way they were before, he can’t leave you alone with Touya-
 “I’m glad they showed me how selfish you’ve always been. You never thought of my safety when you kept hanging around me knowing full well that they’d beat the shit out of me if they caught us. And they did! You happy now?” He’s laughing, but he can’t hide the rage from his balled shaking fists.
 “No, no please-” you whisper horrified.
 But he turns around, barely glancing back at you before bidding his adieu.
 “I’m saying goodbye to you as Tenko, and saying hello as Tomura now. Forget we were ever friends, it means nothing to me now. I used to feel like a burden to you, but it’s funny, you seem to be weighing me down more than ever now.”
 “But don’t worry. You’ll still see me around. After all, Keigo and Touya seem to be pretty solid guys. And hey, maybe I’ll even be the best man at your wedding coming up.”
 Your head is swimming. The sky is almost a clear blue now, the purple having faded away a long time ago. The sounds of strings stretching are brought to a climax.
 He’s so close, yet so far away from you that you barely catch the words that come tumbling out of his mouth so easily, so effortlessly you'd think he’d either rehearsed saying them all his life or that he’s had a lifetime of saying it.
 “I fucking hate you.”
 And the threads snap.
1K notes · View notes
sunmoonandeddie · 3 years ago
Text
and he kissed me right here
pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader
word count: 6,100
summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.
warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap
a/n:  This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!
Twenty-Two
I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.
“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”
Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.
“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”
“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.
Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.
Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.
Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”
I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”
“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”
Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.
It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.
I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.
What if he said no?
Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?
What did I care if he thought that?
“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.
“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”
I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.
Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.
God, he was handsome.
“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.
“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”
“I do drive.”
“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”
“But I don’t have my car on me.”
I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”
He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”
“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”
A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”
I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.
Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.
“So how did you end up in NOLA?”
It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.
His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”
“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”
“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”
Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”
Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.
I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”
He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”
I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”
“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.
There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”
“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.
Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.
What if I was his girl?
But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.
I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.
And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.
“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”
“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.
Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.
Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”
It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.
“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”
My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.
Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”
Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.
“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”
“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”
He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”
“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”
The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.
I hated it.
“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.
Perhaps we were.
But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”
He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”
For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.
“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”
A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.
“Love?”
“Love.”
Love.
Could I even have love? Did I want it?
“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”
Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”
I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”
“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”
We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”
“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”
Twenty-Three
I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.
But God, did it hurt.
I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.
But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?
But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.
Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?
A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.
My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”
“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”
“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.
There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.
And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.
It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?
Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.
That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”
I love you, too.
I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.
My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.
“You okay?”
In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.
He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”
And well, I was never one to turn down free food.
Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.
“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”
“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.
“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.
Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”
Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”
“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”
“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”
I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.
“Well, since you���re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.
I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”
Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”
Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.
But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.
“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”
Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”
He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.
And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.
Twenty-Four
I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.
My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.
I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.
It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.
“Well, hello, gorgeous.”
I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.
The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.
“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.
I fucking hated martinis. Always had.
But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.
“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”
“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.
Twenty-Eight
“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.
Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.
It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.
But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.
Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.
“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.
The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.
He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”
My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”
The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.
“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”
I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”
“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”
“Yes.”
Thirty-Two
Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.
Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.
I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.
The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.
Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.
BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.
I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.
But it wasn’t ever enough.
My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.
He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.
“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.
The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.
I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.
“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.
My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.
My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.
He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.
“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”
All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.
“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”
The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.
“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”
Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.
And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.
Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.
My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.
“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.
“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”
All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.
Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”
My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”
He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”
“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”
Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.
Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.
I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”
594 notes · View notes
beels-burger-babe · 3 years ago
Text
With You Always
Tumblr media
***So I really really really love this idea, but I'm going to tweak it just a little bit so rather than only seeing them in mirrors, MC can just always see them when the brothers aren't around. This one is going to take place after they return to the human realm. I'm also going to be using he/him pronouns for the crush that'll be mentioned. I figured since all the dateables in the game identify as male, it'd be a safe bet. Thank you so so much for this creative request @gender-less-lemon (also I freaking love your profile picture. Monster Camp/Prom is hilarious)***
Summary: An average day of high school with MC...and the seven pact manifestations that haunt their vision.
TW: Bullying You were awoken not by an alarm, or your guardian, or even some random noise from outside, but rather a phantom gnawing on your arm. With a groan, you blinked open your eyes and saw just your regular old room, with one minor difference; a spectral red bear was happily teething on your elbow. You chuckled and pet the manifestation, noting the brightly glowing symbol of gluttony resting in its stomach. "Okay, Beel," you mumbled to yourself as you dragged yourself out of bed, pushing the purple translucent calf sleeping on your stomach, in the process. "I hear you." Ever since you had returned to the human realm, you had been followed around by spectral manifestations of the seven pacts that you owned. By the looks of things, no one else could see them, and they only appeared when the connected sin was active or needed, but it helped you feel less alone. You missed the brothers more than you had anticipated. It was more than a little bit of a culture shock to go from being loved and spoiled every day to being the misfit in your high school. Speaking of which, you needed to get going if you weren't going to be late. As you rushed around our room frantically grabbing the things you needed to get ready, the calf-like manifestation of sloth sat on your bed mooing in complaint. You sent a glare over to it as you finished collecting your belongings. "Trust me, I rather stay home and sleep too, buddy. But I have to go." Grabbing some fruit on your way out the door, you just managed to make it to school on time. Now it was simply a matter of surviving the day.
In all honesty, you preferred RAD to high school. In RAD, the subjects were interesting and grasped your attention without any problems at all. You had friends, even outside of the brothers. Sure there were always demons that would talk down about the kid human that clung to the demon lords, but you had the brothers to protect you. It was nice.
Now that you were back in the human world, you had none of that. In fact, you were even more of a misfit than when you were before. The teenager that vanished for a year and came back weirder than before; that was you. At first, you couldn't get people to leave you alone, but once they realized you weren't going to give them answers they backed off. You would occasionally laugh or whisper to the manifestations, which would earn you some more than weird looks, but you didn't care. These weird little ghost-like creatures were one of the only things you had connecting you to the Devildom. They meant more to you than anything else. As you entered your classroom, you had to bite back a laugh at the sight of one of your classmates looking around in confusion as, unknown to them, a golden yellow crow flapped around their head and pecked at the shiny earrings they were wearing. You took your seat in the back of the classroom and watch in amusement as the crow continued pecking at the various belongings of students, causing subtle chaos and confusion. Leave it to Mammon to make your day even when he wasn't actually there. Your teacher walked in and sat down in his chair. "Alright, class. Today we're going to continue with our history presentations. Remember these were subjects of your choice, so I do hope that you can at least pretend to be interested," he sighed and pulled out a clipboard. "Looks like the next person presenting is...MC." You winced and looked down at your notes. The topic was definitely one you were confident in, but to present it in front of your class. What if no one liked it? What if people laughed? What if- You felt a nudge on your arm. You glanced over to see a dazzling blue peacock, straightening its long neck out high as it puffed out its chest. The pride manifestation gestured forward with its head and almost seemed to smile at you. You smiled gently as you felt warmth grow from his pact mark on your inner wrist and stood up beside the peacock. It cawed and began to strut forward, leading the way to the front of the class. The mental image of Lucifer doing the same almost caused you to burst out laughing. You finally turned to the class and held your head up proudly as you began to speak. "My presentation today will be on biblical demonology and the way it has evolved throughout the eons of its existence." It was the best presentation you had ever given in your life. Riding off of the high from history class, the day seemed to fly by. Before you knew it was time for lunch. The bear was back, this time just softly moaning it continued butting your back with its head in an attempt to get you to go to the cafeteria faster. With one particularly heard shove, you were sent stumbling forward, directly into the chest of someone. "I'm so sorry! I'm a total clutz. I just tripped, I hadn't meant to-" you cut yourself off as you looked up and noticed you were looking at your crush. Your jaw snapped shut as you felt your face suddenly become uncomfortably hot. He smiled and waved off the apology. "It's alright. Just an accident right?" Your face became even hotter as you noticed a bright pink rabbit jumping up and down happily behind him. "I- Uh...Ehm...Y-Yeah! Yeah, t-totally an accident. I'm seat so I should go find my hungry. I-I mean!" He chuckled and nodded. "No worries, I get what you're trying to say. Enjoy your seat, MC," he gave you a wink, causing you to squeak as he walked off. You glared down at the rabbit running happy circles around your feet and the red bear that was sulking guiltily in a corner. "I blame you two for this." With an embarrassed huff, you entered the cafeteria and found yourself instantly wanting to walk back out. Everyone was laughing and talking with one another in their friend groups at their tables. Some gossiped eagerly over a magazine. Others sat silently with one another while they gamed or read books. There was even a table where a group of theatre kids were drumming out a soundtrack beat on the table while singing their favourite
songs. You ducked your head down and grabbed a tray of food before moving to the lonely table in the back, doing your best to ignore the giant orange snake that slithered between the tables, occasionally hissing and tripping students. You tried not to think of how you could be just like those groups of laughing friends, if only you were still at RAD. Your heart ached as you thought about the brothers. Maybe you could call them tonight. You let out a heavy sigh as you stood up and went to leave. You had almost made it to the door when a familiar face stopped you. Standing just a couple inches taller than you, surrounded by their groupies, was your tormentor, Taylor. You weren't entirely sure why they hated you so much. You just knew that they did, and that it got even worse when you came back from the Devildom. Taylor smirked with their arms crossed over their chest. "Where do you think your going? You haven't come to say hello yet." You scoffed and tried to walk past them. "Leave me alone, Taylor. I'm not in the mood for this today," before you could get very far, you were harshly onto the floor, stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped and glared up at them. "What the fuck?!" The bully just sneered down at you. "You may not be in the mood for this, but I am. You know I heard about your weirdo presentation. Demons? Really? What are you, a satanist?" Their word choice was really ironic, for at that moment you noticed the large, white unicorn with flaming green hair and eyes appear behind them. The beast stomped its hooves and whinnied dangerously. You gulped nervously and looked up at Taylor. "Even if I was, it's not your business. I just find the topic interesting is all." You went to stand up, and therefore force the angry horse with a horn away from Taylor, but were stopped as they placed their foot on top of your chest. "I bet that's why you have all those weird tattoos, huh? What did you run away and join a cult for a year? Freak!" You could feel Satan's pact mark on the back of your neck grow hotter and hotter to the point that you were concerned the manifestation may be trying to summon him. Your eyes widen as you noticed it back up a few steps and point its horn at Taylor. You knew that the creatures normally could do small interactions with others, such as tripping or pushing, but you had never seen them attempt anything so violent. You couldn't just let it kill someone. "STOP!" The cafeteria fell quiet, but you weren't looking at them or even Taylor, you were looking at the unicorn. The manifestation neighed in frustration and jumped around, but obeyed your command. You slumped in relief. Looking back over to Taylor, you found them glaring down at you like you were nothing but a bug. They opened their mouth to degrade you even further when a teacher finally stepped forward. "What is happening here?" You walked over to the unicorn while Taylor fed the teacher a handful of lies. You leaned over to the manifestation and whispered under your breath. "Thank you for trying to protect me, but you can't hurt people. Just leave it be." The creature snorted and nuzzled your shoulder. In comparison to the hectic lunch hour, the rest of the day passed by with ease. In no time at all, you were back home in your room. You had just plopped onto your bed, when you heard a familiar ringtone. You smiled brightly and quickly grabbed your D.D.D. before immediately answering the phone. "Hello?" "Oh, you answered that quite quickly," you grinned at the surprise in Satan's tone. "I was just calling to-" "IS THAT MC?! GIMME!!!" You laughed as the sounds of Satan yelling and running from Mammon came through the other end. There was a yelp, a bang, and a victorious whoop before you could hear the device get picked up by someone. "'Hey MC! How was your day? I hope you didn't miss the great Mammon too badly. N-Not that I've missed you or anything just wanted to know how you're doin' is all." Belphie's purple calf climbed its way into your lap once more as you gently patted its head.
"I miss you too, Mammon. And today wasn't bad. I'd say it was pretty average overall." You could hear Satan growl in the background before there was a loud thud followed by a scream from Mammon. Satan took the phone back. "Just average you say? Nothing special?" You frowned and narrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "No, why?" To your right, the unicorn neighed softly and plopped down beside your bed. "Well, I could've sworn I felt our pact become triggered at some point today and...Well in all honesty I was concerned. We worry about you getting hurt without us there with you, MC." You couldn't help but smile softly as one by one each of the manifestations of your pacts made their way to your bed and laid down. "I know," you replied affectionately. "Though I'm never completely alone. So long as I have my pacts, you guys will always be with me." ***This was such an interesting concept to toy around with. I hope this wasn't too confusing and actually makes sense 😅😅 Thanks again for the amazing request @gender-less-lemon!***
Taglist @thegrimgrinningghost
@henry-and-the-seven-lords
@satans-beloved-riv
@cosmixbun
@sufzku
912 notes · View notes
thrndlngs · 3 years ago
Text
three times shinsou misses the opportunity to kiss you + the one time he seized the moment.
── pairing, shinsou x fem!prohero!reader ── request: x times shinsou wants to kiss fem reader??? pLZ I NEED IT ── author’s note: this was super dope & cute to write. tysm for sending this in. i hope i did this justice and it wasn’t to out of character.  also reader has a water quirk & the two of you are in your early twenties.  ♡ 
i.
     "'toshi,” you whispered, chest against his as the two of you currently hid from the group of villains. your two agencies had partnered up in attempt to take down a new gang of villains who were transporting drugs from the city to the waters, the two of you were partnered because of how the two of you excelled in your respective agencies, shinsou was sent to aid in your patrols of the waters  ──  which is why the two of you are currently hiding in a storage closet on a ship. 
  “shut up.” you don’t take it to heart, you’re sure he means it as nicely as possible - he just lacks a few pages in the ‘vocabulary’ department. 
  “we need to do something.” you tell him, trying your best to meet his gaze in the tight space (which was nearly impossible because he’s towering over you at the moment). he doesn’t reply, not at first at least, if you looked hard enough you would probably see the gears in his head turning. 
  “──stop talking, it’s distracting me.” 
  your mouth quickly shuts, fidgety hands are now at your side, you were starting to get antsy and there was practically little to no room to move around without being heard - or seen for that matter. 
  “they switch the guards every ten minutes, in the middle of the switch, we run.” the purple haired male explained, taking a peak at the time on his cellphone. the two of you had to endure this for three more minutes. just three more minutes and you would be free.
  “three minutes,” you repeated, more to confirm this for yourself. you’re sure you wouldn’t last that long, after all, this was shinsou, the male you’ve had a crush on for quite some time now. how were you expected to last that long?
  “──think of it like seven minutes of heaven.”
  “we haven’t played that since── “
  “yeah, yeah i know, but just think of it like that. don’t think about the closet, just the game.” 
  you nodded quickly, meeting his gaze as the two of you stood there in silence. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about kissing him. it seemed like the perfect moment - it was just the two of you. if it were the last day on earth, you at least wanted to go out with a bang. you know?
  “let me get comfortable, you can do the same after.” you watched as he places either hands besides your head, slouching a bit against the wall so his back could have some sort of support. he nods to you, signaling for you to do the same. 
  it takes you a moment, the position shinsou is currently in causes your heart to skip just a few beats. were you disappointed in yourself for letting your mind drift.. elsewhere during a mission? for sure. did you care right now? absolutely not.
  you cleared your throat, widening your stance and trying to balance the weight in between your legs to help ease some of the weight  ──  but there wasn’t really much you could do.
  “two minutes.” 
   this had to be the longest three minutes of your life.
   “i think i just tasted my own sweat.” he complained. it feels like he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t produce sweat in.
  “i feel like a fish out of water,” you added.
  “──gonna start passing out if i don’t throw you in the water soon?”
  “says the one whose sweating to death.” 
  “and you’re dehydrated. guess we’re both shit out of luck aren’t we?”
  “yeah, but, i think this isn’t the worst way to die.” 
  he takes another peak at his cellphone, noting that there’s a minute left before the two of you could finally get out of this damn storage closet. “you’ve got a minute to tell me anything worse than dying like this.” 
  in hindsight ── there’s a lot that could happen in a minute, that’s the only reason you said something to begin with. “alone, i could die in this closet, alone and then you know, it would be lonely.” 
 “are you serious?” 
  “oh come on! that’s pretty serious!”
  “it ── it really isn’t,” he’s trying to laugh as quietly as possible and you playfully slapped him in his shoulder. 
 “okay, well, i wouldn’t want to die alone.”
  “mhm, scaredy cat.” his smile is infectious and for a moment, he forgets that the two of you are stuck in a storage closet. maybe now would be the perfect time to kiss you, when it’s just the two of you, waiting to make your grand escape, when the two of your are just centimeters apart. 
  “now’s our chance,” he whispered, straightening himself to get out first just in case. he doesn’t want to act off of impulses. if he kisses you, he wants to make sure it’s because you want him too.
ii.
     “good to see you when you’re not acting like a goldfish who just hopped out of it’s bowl.” the familiar voice teased from behind you, hands folded behind his head. if it were anyone else, you might have tripped them.
  “──don’t you have to go buy hair dye now or something?”
  “no that was after i made sure a fisherman didn’t take you on the way home.”
  “is this what do you do on your spare time? think of jokes that revolve around my quirk?”  
  he rolls his shoulder lazily, leaning against the apartment railing across from your front door. “they come naturally, no extra thinking required.”
  “and here i thought all the hair dye went to your brain.”
   this wasn’t out of the norm for the two of you, he would make the first jab and then you would follow suit. sometimes, the bickering could go on for hours  ──  regardless of task at hand (like the time the two of you were trying to detain a villain and shinsou had told the woman you were a water sprite), it’s an old nickname of yours, he had given it to you back at the sports festival when you were kids. you had earned it when you had almost drown mineta because he wouldn’t stop making inappropriate jokes and you had brought the entire water fountain down on him. 
  as the two of you stood there in silence, you, had your back against your door, hands folded behind you while he stood parallel, arms against his chest he wonders: is this the time he kisses you goodnight? 
  “d’ya want to come inside? i have leftovers? we could pull an all nighter like we used to do back in the dorms?” there’s a hint of hopefulness in your eyes and he would feel like absolute shit if he declined the offer.
  “only because you have food.” 
  he doesn’t kiss you goodnight then. and he doesn’t kiss you goodnight when you fall asleep on his shoulder after the second horror movie either. if you were anyone else, he would’ve left without a care in the world, but it’s you and you are different. 
  so he stays and tells himself that tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow, he can try again.
iii.
     “i don’t dance,” shinsou tells you as you so desperately tried to bring him onto the dance floor. it’s a hero’s gala, everyone from your respective classes at U.A. were here, pro heroes from all around the world and some of your old instructors as well  ──  these aren’t his thing, you know that. you remember his attitude during the first two hours of the third year’s ‘goodbye party’ - not much had changed. he’s taller, a bit more handsomer and smiles more often. 
  “you do tonight, come on.” while you had dragged him by one hand, the other desperately tried to loosen his tie because it feels like he’s suffocating. 
  “──you’ll be the death of me woman.” he’s mumbling under his breath, one hand resting in yours as the other found its place at your waist.
  “because i asked you to dance? might i say this is on your list of horrible ways to die?” you teased, offering him that infectious smile that makes him go weak in his knees. he hates to admit the pull you have on him  ──  he might even go as far as saying you might have him wrapped around that finger of yours and you don’t even know it yet.
  “if it’s by your hands i would say it’s a merciful death.”
  “a merciful death? i’ll keep that in mind.” 
  “don’t test your luck,” you know he’s only messing with you  ──  
  you’re to busy enjoying the moment to think of some witty comeback. it’s something about the way your hand seems to fit perfectly in his. or how the two of you are able to move in sync without any words spoken in between the two of you that’s driving you insane.
  if you would’ve told your past self that you would be slow dancing with the hitoshi shinsou at a hero’s gala while the world around you disappeared you would’ve laughed at the idea. it would’ve seem silly to you  ──  stupid even. shinsou and you weren’t rivals like you and bakugou were, but, you had always found yourself trying to one up him. 
  yet here you were, swaying to the slow tune as you managed to snake your arms around his midsection and rest a head against his chest. maybe this was his chance: with the little distance in between the two of you, dim lighting and dressed to the nines. surely, this would be a good memory to relive later down the road wouldn’t it? 
  but he wanted to savor the moment. so he decides it against it  ── despite the ache in his chest.
  iv.
     "we did it.” shinsou muses, an awkward hand offered in your direction for you to shake. it’s been six months but your agencies had finally shut down the smuggling operation and you could finally take the break you had so desperately needed. you weren’t sure what to do with the outstretched hand, but, you give in anyways, resting your hand in his as he gave it a firm shake.
  “pleasure doing business with you.” you tell him, lips curving into a bittersweet smile. teasing, bickering and ‘playful’ sparring aside, you were going to miss him. you were used to patrolling and doing missions on your own but this was different. 
  “try not to end up on the other side of fishing hook, yeah?” it’s his way of telling you to be careful in shinsou’s teasing nature.
  “make sure i’m the one to grant you the merciful death.” please be careful, is what you want to say. though you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud - if you did, it would only confirm that you care about the purple haired pro hero more than you should. 
  he shakes his head with a laugh, “you’re the only one who gets the satisfaction.” 
  “it better stay that way ‘toshi.” 
  he doesn’t know for certain if your agencies would cross paths again. your agency was closer to the waters and he was closer in the city, the chance that you would run into one another again would be slim to none. 
 he clears his throat for a moment, retreating his hand from yours and placing them at your waist instead. he’s pictured this a thousand times but now that he’s in the moment he couldn’t manage to find the right words. it’s frustrating, really.
  “──hi.” you’re holding your breath in anticipation, was this another one of his games? was he going to kiss you? tell you a secret? use his capture weapon and tell you that he’s not letting you go until you admit something embarrassing?
  he doesn’t care anymore. doesn’t care if it makes him look like a love sick idiot when he kisses you like it’s the last thing he’s about to do before he dies, he doesn’t care if anyone’s watching or for the wrinkles you’ll cause since you’ve got a fistful of his shirt in a desperate attempt to close whatever little distance the two of you had between you. 
  you pull away first causing him to pout (which was actually cute but you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that) but you do laugh.
  “you know,” he muses, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, a habit you hadn’t seen in years. “──i didn’t want to let you walk away without something to remember, my little water sprite.” 
  you rolled your eyes at the choice of nickname but were flattered nonetheless, your own arms finding their way around his neck, “who said i was walking away?”
260 notes · View notes
bokutoslittlebird · 4 years ago
Text
Threesome with Bokuto Kōtarō and Akaashi Keiji
Tumblr media
Alpha!Bokuto x Beta!Reader x Beta!Akaashi
Warnings: Omegaverse, double penetration, dubcon, creampies, some BokuAka action (bc those are my babies), this is long
Summary: After presenting as a Beta, your mother decided being friends with an Alpha wasn’t good for him. After moving, you befriended another Beta, Akaashi Keiji. After years of not getting over your childhood crush, you never expected to see him again as your best friend’s mate. Akaashi can’t take care of Bokuto through his entire rut, so he lets Bokuto have some fun. There’s a lot of catching up to do between you two, anyways.
— 5 years old, [Y/N]
“You need to stop hanging around that boy, [Y/N],” your mother had said to you one evening. You had looked at her confused, wondering what Kōtarō had to do with your homework. She continued, ignoring the look on your face. “He’s presented as an Alpha. You need to stop hanging around him.”
“That doesn’t matter, mommy. He’s my friend,” you had said, not quite understanding. “I don’t want to hurt him.”
“[Y/N], listen to me. He doesn’t want to be with someone like you. Stop hanging out with him.” At the time, you didn’t understand what your mother was saying. You thought that she had thought your friend didn’t want you as a friend. You’d prove her wrong when you finished your homework.
You had finished the work and immediately went to yours and Kōtarō’s spot, seeing the familiar spiked up hair on the young boy. His frown was unusual, though. “Kō-chan?”
“My mom said we can’t hang out anymore,”
— present day
You woke to the alarm from your phone, the rhythmic beat of the song shooing away the traces of sleep. Your eyes fall to the calendar across your room, seeing you had to work today. With a promise of a hot bath and a treat of ramen after your shift, you are able to get out of bed and get ready to start the day.
Your work shift was simple, just taking orders and making coffee for customers, occasionally bringing treats to customers at the tables. It was normal, right down to when your friend walked in. “Keiji!”
“[Y/N],” he smiled, not having the same enthusiasm but enough to satisfy you. You had met Keiji after you moved, shortly after Kōtarō ended his friendship with you. Keiji had presented as a Beta, just like you, so yours and his mother encouraged playdates and study sessions at each other’s house, hoping a relationship would bloom. “The usual, please,”
“You sure? The season specialty is here! I know you like pumpkin,” your smile turned into a smirk, knowing you had got him when his eyes widened. The season specials were ready to serve, but nobody had switched the menus up.
“Hm, I think I’ll go with the pumpkin latte for today,” he finally said, after weighing his options. You smiled and put in the order, knowing exactly how to work his buttons. “I’ll have to let my boyfriend know,”
“Oh?” That was new information. A week ago, Keiji said he was going to die single because everyone’s an idiot. Now he’s got a lover? “Do tell,”
“He’s an Alpha, but his parents don’t care. Don’t tell mom. She thinks you’re my soulmate, still,”
You guffawed at that, shaking your head at the memory. You remembered when you got older when Keiji’s mom had started giving you lessons in cooking and sewing, typical ‘wife’ things. Keiji smiled at your dramatic scene of laughing, knowing it was how you were.
“Wait till she finds out you’re mated to someone else,”
“I prefer to term courting to mate, since I’m plain and boring. He’s anything but, honestly,”
“Perfect match for you, Kei-chan,” you winked, seeing Keiji’s cheeks turn a bit pink at the inside joke. You laughed again, finishing up the last details on the latte.
“He reminds me a bit of you, actually. But without control or a filter,”
“Maybe I am your soulmate, you just don’t like me,”
“Haha, very funny,” he replied, walking off with a little wave. You wiggle your fingers, waving goodbye to him. After watching your friend leave, your shoulders sag a bit, remembering the young boy with white-and-black hair. Back then, you wouldn’t call it a crush. More of an admiration for the boy with no fears and a clear future. With more experience under your belt, you could admit it was a crush. The boy had stolen your heart and crushed it the last time you saw him.
You clean up the counter as the clock ticks, slowly telling you your shift is coming to a close. You feel like you want to cry, but you don’t know why.
The next day, your phone dings with a text message from Keiji, surprised he would shoot a text. He usually called unless he was busy in a meeting or something. Your eyes glance at the screen, trying to finish your essay for one of your classes. The message doesn’t strike you as immediately needing attention, so you ignore it, focusing on the paragraph you’re typing out.
Another ding takes your attention away from the screen completely, knowing Keiji really needed your attention.
[Keiji ❤️ - 12:17 pm]
- Can you bring some fruits to my apartment? I forgot to get some at the store. I’m busy.
[Keiji ❤️ - 12:18 pm]
- please im hungry
The last message startles you, seeing as Keiji always punctuated his texts because, well, he was like that. You quickly typed a reply and made sure to save your document before heading to your kitchen.
[Sweetcheeks😘 - 12:22 pm]
- I’ll be there asap Kei
— 5 years old, Kōtarō Bokuto
“Kōtarō, I need to talk to you,” his mom had said. He looked up at her, a paper hat on his head, a smile on his face. “You need to stop hanging out with [Y/N] so much, baby,”
“Why? Did we do something bad?” He frowned, not understanding. What did he do?
“No, baby, not this time,” she laughed, smiling down at him. Her smile was not full of love and joy, it was sad. “Her mother doesn’t want you two hanging out so much. She said they’ll be moving soon, so I don’t want you to be hurt anymore than you already will be.”
Kōtarō didn’t smile for the rest of the day. After he told his friend they couldn’t hang out anymore, his mother held him in her arms while he cried. It wasn’t fair.
— present day
Kōtarō had been sent home early, with his rut steadily approaching and his fights with Atsumu and Shūgo getting more intense. His ride home was full of anxiety, knowing Keiji couldn’t quite handle ruts very well since he was a Beta. Omegas were meant to handle Alpha ruts all the way through, but Keiji could only handle half of the rut. The last time Kōtarō’s cycle had started, Keiji had to come to where he was, huddled up in an apartment. Keiji couldn’t walk two days after the rut ended, even though he dealt with three out of seven days of the rut.
Kōtarō’s arrival to Keiji’s apartment was slow. His instincts told him to run, but he was able to restrain himself. Keiji opened the door almost immediately after the knock, wrapping his boyfriend in a hug. “I’ve missed you,”
“I’ve missed you, too, Akaashi,” Kōtarō said, indulging in the coffee and minty scent from Keiji, although there was a bit of pumpkin, too. He involuntary let out a growl.
“I had a pumpkin latte earlier,” Keiji immediately said, expecting Kōtarō’s reaction. Instincts came first the closer he got to his rut, Keiji had learned. He could feel the Alpha deflate a bit in his hold, just hugging and scenting. Keiji smiled at that, knowing he would be in for a rough week. “I made a nest. It’s not as good as an Omega’s-“
“You didn’t have to do that,” Kōtarō’s voice was clear and sharp, halting anything Keiji was saying. “You’re not an Omega. You don’t have to act like one,”
“I-I know, Bokuto-san,” Keiji stuttered out, the look in his boyfriend’s eyes startling him a bit. It was intense, but it wasn’t necessarily bad, per se. “I just-“
“I’m not here right now because of your sub-gender. I’m here for you,” Kōtarō’s voice was once again clear and sharp, going right into Keiji’s bones. He’s sure if he was an Omega, he’d be kneeling and begging. For fuck’s sake, he’d have probably entered a heat cycle.
“I know, Bokuto-san. I know,” Keiji leaned against him, reveling in his smell. He couldn’t scent Kōtarō or smell a distinct scent, but Kōtarō obviously came straight to the apartment after practice. He smelled like sweat and deodorant, a strangely pleasant combination.
Kōtarō let out a growl as he felt his rut come on, his hands moving towards Keiji’s ass. In turn, Keiji blushed and cleared his throat, backing up from Kōtarō. He smiled and held up a finger. Kōtarō grinned, straightening his posture. Keiji smiled and ran towards the bedroom, knowing his Alpha was hot on his heels.
The following day, the two lovers were still going at it. Keiji hardly had any rest, only getting his rest once Kōtarō needed to rest, even if Kōtarō claimed he passed out after their third round. A small tease and a mischievous grin had sent Keiji back to being railed by a feral Alpha, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Keiji threw his head into the pillows, drool spilling from his lips and he moaned, having his third orgasm of the day from Kōtarō’s forceful thrusts. On the other hand Kōtarō had only orgasmed once, knotting Keiji and spurring the Beta into a second orgasm almost right after the first. The thrusts didn’t cease, Kōtarō chasing his own release in his mate was the only thought in his mind.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Keiji,” he groaned out, plugging him up with another knot, his orgasm following it. Keiji’s eyes rolled back, digging his nails into Kōtarō’s biceps at the sensation. It stung and was a lot more pain than pleasure, but he couldn’t complain too much.
Kōtarō finished painting Keiji’s walls white, resting his forehead against the man underneath him and catching his breath. Keiji gave him a swift peck on the lips, assuring him he was okay. However, Keiji’s stomach growled at that moment, sending heat to his cheeks.
“I haven’t eaten today,” he realized, talking out loud. Kōtarō may have been an Alpha in a rut, but he was also an Alpha with a mate. Mates needed to be protected and cared for, so his instincts told him he needed to feed his mate. Kōtarō’s eyes immediately went wide. “Don’t move!”
“Ah— sorry! I always forget,” he laughed, adjusting their position so he could lay on his side. Keiji just shook his head, smiling. Kōtarō was a wonderful mate, truly, he just happened to be overly passionate about things he cared for.
Keiji thought to you, how you’d probably enjoy having an Alpha to take care of you. Keiji knew you often overworked yourself and forced yourself to do things, trying to be as independent as possible. He couldn’t be your mate, but he’s had a thought that ends in all sides benefitting - hopefully, at least.
Kōtarō moaned as he slipped from Keiji’s abused hole, the knot finally deflating. “I’ll get you a snack.”
“I have leftovers in the fridge. Bottom left drawer,” he mumbled back, wincing from moving too much. Kōtarō immediately nodded, jogging off to the kitchen, butt-naked. Keiji couldn’t say much. He enjoyed the view.
He winced as he rolled over to his phone, glad he put it on the charger near the Nest yesterday before he got pounded into the mattress. He opened the messages, typing out a quick message for you and sending. He hoped his plan would work out well, but he had faith his calculations were correct.
Hearing the microwave beep meant the food was ready and Keiji still hadn’t gotten a response from you. He typed out another message, hoping you’d actually read this one and put his phone on the floor, face down. Just in time, too, as Kōtarō walked into the bedroom with a freshly heated plate of food.
“Food’s ready!”
— back to you
You had gathered some fruits together, slicing and dicing them as an added flair. Sliced bananas, strawberries, diced watermelon, mangoes, and sliced avocados on slices of bread and cream cheese. You felt like an American middle-aged woman about to attend a brunch with your food choices, but Keiji liked specific fruits specific ways and you knew he only ate avocados on bread with cream cheese.
The ride to Keiji’s apartment only took five minutes, but it felt like it took an hour, your anxiety eating you up at the thought of what Keiji is doing or needs help with. You assumed he needed help with something, but you weren’t positive on what. It could just be as simple as he can’t leave home because his anxiety was too high or it could be something worse — what if his mom got in an accident? The thoughts didn’t stop, making the five minutes much, much longer.
Arriving to Keiji’s apartment, you noticed how dead it seemed outside. You saw a woman on the way up the stairs who gasped as she left her apartment, quickly locking the door and running down the stairs, almost running into you. Confused, you noticed the lights seemed to be off in the other apartments, but that wasn’t too strange. It was a Saturday, but it was midday so people were probably out.
You had a spare key for Keiji’s place, seeing as you often checked up on him; he had a spare for your place, too. Entering the apartment, it was deathly quiet, putting you on edge. There was a certain air about the room that made you feel like you were in a horror movie. As you made your way to the kitchen, you noticed the messily placed dishes in the sink, the shirt in the hallway leading to Keiji’s bedroom, and the duffel bag beside the door. You’re confused. Keiji doesn’t have a duffel bag — not since the old one ripped a couple of years ago.
You ponder whether to go into Keiji’s bedroom or not, worried someone might’ve broken in —that shirt is definitely not his. That’s when you feel a presence. At first, you freeze, wondering if Keiji’s playing a trick on you. It is October after all. You place the container of fruits on the counter and hear a growl, immediately turning around to meet golden eyes and familiar hair.
His eyes were narrowed, obviously pissed, but then his face changed. He seemed confused first, then a dawning came upon him. Next thing you know, you’re picked up and having the life squeezed out of you. “[Y/N]!”
“Kō?” Your tiny voice whispers. You can hardly believe it. Your ex-best friend and childhood crush is in your best friend’s apart— uh oh. “Uh oh,”
“What-Oh?” His voice repeats, looking at you. The Alpha of your dreams is the Alpha of Keiji’s dreams—what a day it’s been. “[Y/N]?”
“I should, um, can you let me down?” He obliged, letting you stand on your feet again. “I need to, um, go. Uh, Keiji wanted fruits so I, uh, brought them. I’m gonna go,” you turned, hoping to tears would stay in until you left. You weren’t expecting Kōtarō to cage you in, effectively trapping you. As a Beta, you didn’t immediately obey an Alpha’s command, but the look in his eyes told you to stay. You obeyed.
“Don’t go. Please,” is all he said, his eyes twinkling. You shook your head, deciding this was a bad idea. “[Y/N].”
“You don’t get to act like nothing happened, Bokuto-san. You stopped being friends with me, remember? I expected you to be breeding an Omega by now. Looks like it was just me,” you spat, feeling the anger you held in boil over. The feeling of your best friend leaving you because of your sub-gender, the feeling of betrayal, remembering how your mother sighed at you and rolled her eyes, telling you she was always right and your friend would never look your way again.
“What?” He peered down at you, no longer hunching over. You realized just how tall he had gotten. “I stopped being friends because you were leaving. You being a Beta had nothing to do with it,”
“Sure, I guess now it doesn’t. Since, you know, you’re with my new best friend. It’s okay, I get it,” you once again tried to leave, but Kōtarō wouldn’t budge. “Move, Bokuto-san.”
“No.” His voice was clear and sharp. You were sure if you were an Omega, you’d be on your knees crying. “I don’t want it to end like this. I want to make amends.” Good thing you weren’t an Omega.
“Well, I don’t care what you want. Let me go,” your own eyes narrowed at him, his face not changing. His body unmoving. You rolled your eyes, deciding to not play this game anymore. Going to duck under Kōtarō’s arm, but his body moved to pin you to the counter. “Dude!”
“You smell different.” Is all the warning you got before you felt his nose in your neck. You felt butterflies at the contact, but also cringed at the display. You then noticed a shadow in the hallway. Attempting to pry Kōtarō off you wasn’t working, so Keiji got to see his boyfriend hunched over you.
“Good, you seem to be getting along again,” he said, a gentle and lazy smile on his face. Surprisingly, Kōtarō didn’t turn around at his mate’s voice, just kept rubbing his nose against you. “I hope you can take care of him,”
“Akaashi Keiji, what the fuck,” you muttered. He didn’t seem concerned his boyfriend was currently nuzzling against you. You noticed the limp in Keiji’s walk and he had one of his hands on the wall.
“I’ve been keeping track of your cycle. You should be ovulating by now. Bokuto-san has told me about his childhood friend before and it took me a while but I figured out it was you,” Keiji kept talking, limping his way to the couch. “I’ll get the fruits later. Bokuto-san, don’t hurt her too much,”
“Hurt me?” You squeaked, eyes widening at the implication. “Keiji, I can’t—“ you started, a scream interrupting your sentence as Kōtarō picked you up and hauled you to the bedroom. He displayed his strength earlier, of course, but the fact you were were on your back in what looked similar to an Omega’s Nest within seconds of the ground leaving your feet was a display that turned you on immensely. If Kōtarō wasn’t currently attempting to strip you, he would have been with the sickly sweet scent you exuded.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” he growls out, his hands deciding to rip your very nice shirt into shreds, deciding your movements to get them off were too slow. He offered the same treatment to your bra, your short scream of disbelief when it was torn. He was nice enough to pull off the pants you were wearing, along with your panties. “Ever since my first rut,” he continues, his nose buried against your thighs, his tongue licking a hot stripe against it. You whined at the contact, full on knowing he could smell your arousal. “I thought I’d never find you again.”
“Boku-“
“No. Not here. Call me your Alpha, little Beta,”
“Uh-“ you stopped, unsure of the situation. Kōtarō, regardless of your feelings, was with Keiji. That alone made you hesitant, even if Keiji literally told Kōtarō to go for it. You felt weird having to call him your Alpha anyways, since you were never subjected to those Alpha/Omega relationships. You can’t say you weren’t interested in it, often just having fun with other Betas and maybe an Alpha or two during their ruts (you vividly remember helping an attractive Alpha in your last year at Nekoma, rendering you unable to walk for the next two days). Neither of them called you by your sub-gender, nor made you call them Alpha. You obviously hesitated, taking a trip down memory lane much too long, since Kōtarō’s hand had wrapped itself around your jaw, forcing you to look at him. You didn’t think your old childhood friend would be so.. rough.
“I’m waiting, little one. Call me your Alpha,” he growled out, again. The growling was doing wonders to you, making you wetter by the second. Another growl came out, spurring you to speak.
“I- Alpha, we can’t do this. We need to talk-“
“You can try to talk, but I’m gonna fill you to the brim until my cum is seeping out of your cunt. Let’s see how well you do.” Kōtarō immediately went down to your nether regions, your folds glistening to show him just how turned on you were. Your face was hot, practically burning when his eyes locked on, unmoving from the sight. He wasn’t looking long, getting a startled scream from you as he buried his face between your legs, lapping at your juices. Your hand went to his hair, the hair as soft as you had hoped, as he continued to drink from your pussy as if it was his last drink on earth. Your other hand was bunching up a nearby shirt, one you had left at Keiji’s two days ago after a night of drinks. If you weren’t so busy rolling your eyes into your skull as your mouth hung open, moans spilling from your lips, you’d have noticed the mix of yours and Keiji’s clothes in the Nest.
Kōtarō continued to be relentless, pushing two fingers into your heat as you were clenching your thighs around his head. You were worried you’d hurt him, but he was an Alpha in every shape and form — if he wanted to stop you, he’d do it. He knows he’s in control. Adding a third finger brought you to your first orgasm of the day, feeling exhausted afterwards. Kōtarō rose from between your legs, his eyes immediately finding your glossy ones. He smiled and licked his lips. Then, wiping the slick from his lower face with his hand to get the excess that his tongue couldn’t get and then licking it off, his eyes never breaking contact.
“So sweet, I’m already addicted,” his grin got darker, his body crawling up until his hands were on both sides of your head and his lips were slotted against yours. His tongue darted between his lips, into your already open mouth, deepening the kiss. You were so in bliss from the after-orgasm high and kissing your crush, you didn’t even feel the head of Kōtarō’s cock pushing into you.
Kōtarō threw his head back, moaning at the tight fit. You mewled, it being some time since someone entered you, the feeling almost foreign. It didn’t hurt, thankfully, the wetness Kōtarō created more than enough to help him slide in. He didn’t stop, he just kept pushing in until the beginning of his knot was flush against you. Another growl erupted from Kōtarō, the only warning you got before he pulled out only to slam back in. The sudden movement had your back arching and your head against the plush pillows of the Nest. It was the green light for Kōtarō.
Your knees were pushed to your shoulders, the position momentarily uncomfortable until your mind was replaced with the burning and overwhelming sensation of Kōtarō pounding into you liked a man starved. Moans were bouncing off the walls, along with Kōtarō’s grunts, mixed with the sound of skin slapping skin as his thighs continuously met your ass. Your hands switched from fisting fabric to winding around Kōtarō’s neck as he buried his face into your neck, his panting and grunts loud in your ears. You felt the coming of another orgasm, the familiar tightening in your abdomen and the arching of your back being a few indicators. Your nails raked against Kōtarō’s back, leaving angry red streaks in their place. Another grunt from Kōtarō and you felt a painful sensation you hadn’t felt before — a knot. The added pain before the height of your pleasure sent you over the edge, mewling out Kōtarō’s name as you did.
Kōtarō had you plugged up, him spilling his seed into your hot walls. You whined at the feeling of fullness. He sighed at the feeling himself, indulging in your scent. You figured now was as good as you’re going to get to talk. “Um, Kōt-“
“Alpha.”
“Sorry,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. “Alpha, um, this is an awkward time, I suppose, but can we talk about, like, us?”
“We don’t need to, but we can,” he looked at you, moving his position so you guys were on your sides. More comfortable for each other. “What do you wanna talk about?”
“Okay, um, the Alpha thing is weird, but I’ll let it slide since obviously you’re in a rut. Obviously Keiji isn’t an Omega, so he can’t take you throughout the entire rut. Um, I don’t wanna be your booty call for ruts, this whole situation is so fucking weird-!”
“You’re not the ‘booty call’, as you said. Akaashi mentioned he had a surprise for me, but I didn’t think he’d offer me you. After this, I hope he lets me court you, too. So I can be your Alpha, too.”
“Kō- Alpha, we’re no longer friends because you’re an Alpha. That’s why you broke off our friendship so long ago, isn’t that right? You deserved an Omega, which I am not, but you found Keiji and that is fine. I am not a part of this.”
“I don’t care about sub-genders. That’s why I’m with Akaashi. I stopped being friends because you were moving. It hurt a lot to end things, but I didn’t know what else to do. That was Mom’s advice, at least.”
You were confused. Your mother said it was because he cared about sub-genders, but now he’s saying it was because of the move? Your friendship ended before moving, yes, but it was almost a month before moving. You could have stayed friends, anyways. Did your mother lie to you? Did his feelings change? “My- My mother said you needed an Omega so I-“
“She was wrong. She’s the one who set you up with Akaashi, yeah? She didn’t even care what my family thought about us. That’s in the past, we can move past it.”
“All these years...” you muttered, feeling the tears from before coming back. The knowledge that your own mother forced your friendship to end made you angry, but everything was fine now. Kōtarō was your friend again. At least, you thought he was. “I don’t know if I want a relationship, though,”
“Too bad,” he grunted, his cock leaving you feeling empty. A whine was all you needed to do to have yourself pinned under Kōtarō again, his cock filling you up again. “I’ve been dreaming of this for so long, as if I’ll let you leave so easily.”
Kōtarō continued his relentless pounding into you, the constant fucking rendering your lower area numb. Eventually, your world went black after a— what was it, 6th orgasm? Kōtarō’s second knot was the only thing you remembered before you tuned out completely. The grunting, whines, moans, all of it faded into silence. While you had passed out, Kōtarō panicked, thinking he went overboard. Keiji’s words echoed in his mind: “Don’t hurt her too much.” Was this too much?
Kōtarō, stuck inside you because of his knot, called for Keiji to help him. Of course, Keiji came as fast as he could (not very fast, poor man is still recovering) to see Kōtarō, who is close to tears, above your blissed, fucked, and passed out form. He sighs, shaking his head. “Bokuto-san, I think you went too hard,”
“Akaashi...” he whined, his strong arms curling around you. Even passed out, your body reacted, curling into him as you softly moaned. “Akaashi...”
“It’s okay, she’ll be fine. Her body isn’t used to it. At least, not yet.” A moan from Kōtarō let Keiji know his knot had deflated, him pulling out of your cunt and the copious amounts of cum he filled you with spilling out. It made even Keiji aroused, seeing it seeping out of you. Kōtarō knew he was aroused at the sight and came upon a solution.
“Akaashi! Maybe we...”
Waking up was next thing you remember. You felt so, so full, like you were plugged up in both ends. As you flutter your eyes open. You expected to see your ceiling, having woken up from intense dream or something. You maybe even hoped to see Kōtarō grinning down at you, sweat dripping down his face and his chest. You did not, however, expect to see Keiji smiling down at you, gently caressing your face. “Kei?”
“Hey there, pretty baby. How are you feeling?” The nickname threw you off — Keiji never called you a nickname. He was very formal, even saying your last name until only recently. You obviously showed confusion, or maybe you hesitated, because a rumble was felt behind you, a familiar voice following.
“She’s probably feeling pretty stuffed, Akaashi. Stuffed full inside and out, I hope,” Kōtarō’s voice said. You turned your head, hissing at the pain in your neck, to see Kōtarō grinning at you, just like you hoped. However, wasn’t Keiji resting?
“I should thank you for the fruit. It was delicious and cut up so cutely and delicately. I was getting a bit jealous to hear Kōtarō having so much fun with you. I was hoping to have my own fun with you when he rested after his rut, but he was kind enough to share. Isn’t that nice? I don’t think I can get you pregnant, but I want to try. We’d have such cute babies together, you know?”
“I was hoping she’d carry my pups first, but you can pump her full next time. We have all the time in the world, after all.”
“Excuse me? Wait, wait!” You shouted, suddenly realizing the whole ‘filling you up’ speech wasn’t just an Alpha’s instincts — it was their intention to impregnate you. “I can’t have kids! I’m in school and-“
“I can provide for both of my mates, right Keiji?” Kōtarō said, his eyes holding nothing but love as he gazed at Keiji. It made your heart squeeze at the love between them. Keiji smiled and nodded, deciding at that time to roll his hips. You threw your head back and mewled, sensitive from the consecutive orgasms previously.
“I’m glad you’re still sensitive. There’s no evidence to back it up, but I heard the more orgasms a woman has, the more likely it is she’ll get pregnant. Of course, Omegas have a fertile cycle, but you’re a Beta, so I had to track your cycle for about three months. I hope it was enough.”
“Three months?! Akaashi Kei- oh!” You screamed, feeling Kōtarō move. He was filling up your back entrance, adding to the fullness. Also, it explained why you were on his chest.
“I also need to cut out your caffeine, that’s a bad habit you need to cut out anyways. No more nights of drinking while binge-eating. Your body needs to be in peak condition if it’s going to carry our offspring,”
“I can’t wait till you’re all swollen and wobbling. It’ll be so cute. And then we’ll do it again. And again. And I don’t know if I wanna stop, babe!” Kōtarō laughed, thrusting his hips up, making you jerk at the feeling.
“Maybe we can stop after five. We’ll need a bigger house, too,” Keiji continued, rolling his hips in rhythm to Kōtarō’s thrusts. You closed your eyes, one hand fisting Kōtarō’s hair while the other gripped Keiji’s shoulder, hoping to ground yourself. “You’ll look so beautiful when you’re pregnant. This is what our families want, after all. You’ll bear my children and Kōtarō also gets what he wants in the end. He gets his own offspring. This all works out,” he grunted, snapping his hips after almost pulling all the way out. “In the end, at least.”
If you could form a coherent sentence, you’d tell them to stop, but the only thing on your mind was how stuffed you were. Keiji was thrusting into your puffy, abused cunt that was overflowing with Kōtarō’s cum, rolling his hips every so often to increase pleasure. Kōtarō’s grunts were heightening your arousal and sending you hurling towards another orgasm. Your eyes rolled, your tongue sticking out as you clenched around Keiji, sending him towards an orgasm of his own. A curse and a stutter of his hips and he was spilling his own seed into you. He knew his genes wouldn’t take, not when you’d been pumped by Kōtarō multiple times. He had looked for the chances between a Beta and Alpha genes in a Beta, but he only got Omegas, which were made to take Alpha seed and breed easily. A small part of him wanted to try and overpower Kōtarō, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to compare to the amount you’ve already taken.
Kōtarō was still going, his strong, warm hands holding your knees to your chest, keeping you spread open, as he thrusted up into you. He knew Keiji had finished, the face he was sporting a familiar scene to the Alpha, so Kōtarō was chasing his own high. A high-pitched whine from you as Keiji rolled his hips again, earning a growl from Kōtarō in return. You pant as your hand leaves Keiji’s shoulder, ghosting over your sensitive clit as you attempt to close your thighs, overly sensitive from all the rounds you’ve been forced to go through. Keiji saw your hand brush over it, taking his own hand to replace yours and apply pressure onto the nub, rubbing it.
A scream was ripped from your throat, another orgasm around Keiji’s cock as Kōtarō buried himself, shoving his knot in your tight hole. You were twitching at the extra feeling of fullness, the hot spurts of cum in your ass and the oozing cum from your cunt, even if Keiji was plugging you up. A sigh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling back as he attempted to catch your breath. Kōtarō brought a hand to fondle your breast, earning another whine for him.
“I could get used to this,”
“So could I. Good thing we’ll get to see much more of it,”
You normally would have told them no, attempting to push Keiji off and out of you, but you just sighed, trying to kiss Kōtarō. He smiled and obliged, licking your lips before kissing you, enjoying the taste of you. Keiji smiled at the scene, bringing his mouth to your perky nipple from Kōtarō’s earlier fondling, biting gently on it. You mewled, shifting your legs up Keiji’s hips and he moved in deeper. Kōtarō growled, his hand rubbing the red and swollen nub between your legs. You wouldn’t normally let this continue, but you could hardly think.
If you could think properly, you might have noticed the bags of clothes you don’t remember bringing to Keiji’s. You might have seen the handcuffs nearby. You might have seen the extra lock on the bedroom door, so out of place. You normally would have been able to think properly, but the only thing you could think of was being stuffed with Keiji’s and Kōtarō’s thick cocks, filling you up to the brim.
Tumblr media
Sequel -> The Perfect Family [tw includes dubcon/noncon, use of the word r*pe, water torture/attempted drowning, gunplay, pregnancy, blood, abuse (mentally and physically), bit of watersports]
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
jjungkooksthighs · 4 years ago
Text
Edacity | jjk (m)
Tumblr media
Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x reader
 Genre: platter of smut, the barest hint of fluff and the tiniest garnishment of angst / nonidol!au / college!au
 Rating: 18+ / nsfw
 Word Count: 8.2k
 Summary: After a rough day at college in your biochemistry class, you come home to your boyfriend, who is sweetly making you dinner. In his efforts to help calm you down, he only riles you up when you realize that it’s not the food you’re hungry for…it’s him.  
 Warnings: dom!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, lots of dirty talk (let’s face it I love that shit), praising, fingering, grinding, fellatio (cock sucking), cock worship (just a smidge), unprotected sex (reader has a birth control implant in her arm but Koo doesn’t like condoms, so yeah), breast/nipple play, nipping, marking via hickeys, sucking, pussy stretching, rough and possessive sex, begging, muscle kink, scratching, precum play if that’s a thing, manhandling, pinning down, cursing, wet and messy sex (kind of), degradation kink (koo calls you a slut a couple times but that’s about it), size kink, hair pulling
 A/N: This fic is brought to you by 201008 Jungkook from the “Savage Love” video he posted. I saw it, got horny and then wrote this filth. Blame him for this, not me. Also, please let me know what you guys think. Your feedback means more to me than you know. Tagging @nervouskiwi​ , @tricethecharm​ and @nightshadevinter​ per their request! 
The door to your apartment opens and shuts with a heaved sigh from you as you drop your bag to the floor with a thump, the day’s toil stemming from an unhelpful and unknowledgeable lab partner finally taking its toll on you while you rub your eyes as if to clear away the sight of the freshman boy who’d stared dumbly at the temperature probe and gas pressure sensor before asking you which was which in your biochemistry class. After that, he’d proceeded to clumsily knock over the catalase solution you were meant to measure enzyme activity with on several occasions in his ceaseless cloddishness.
 Even your professor had not noticed your lab partner’s negligence despite the seven times that you’d had to go procure a new vial of solution from the back of the classroom and when you’d asked to just do the lab alone upon finding out that your lab companion didn’t even know how to work the magnetic stirrer, your teacher still had not yielded to your plea. You had ended up doing all of the work and your efforts had gone entirely unnoticed to all but yourself. Well, almost everyone.
 “Bad day?” The mellifluous voice of your boyfriend of three years wafts over to your ears and you don’t have to open your eyes to know he’s in the kitchen directly to your left, your body instinctively wanting to seek the comfort of his warm embrace after such a long day. The sound of him already has the agitation crumbling, his voice the music to your ears that you are sure you will never tire of.
 “Terrible,” you whine, “my professor paired me with someone that didn’t even know what the equipment we were using was called. I had to do all the work.”
 “Aww…I’m sorry to hear that. Come here, babe. I’ll make it all better, yeah?” He asks.
 Your body is already moving at that and there’s the distinct clinking of a utensil against cookware that dots the space of your shared apartment. When you breathe in the succulent smell of sundubu-jjigae (one of your favorites of his) the earlier irritation is drawn away as you take in the aroma that has your stomach rumble tellingly in hunger. You really hadn’t been in want of food before you walked in, so now you’re not sure if it’s the dinner that has you craving or if it’s the person that made it.
  Wanting to look upon the source of the delicatessen, you open your eyes to find your boyfriend who is already gazing softly at you while he-with one occupied and tattooed hand-attends to the stew and it is as if the frustration is drained from you immediately as you drink in the sight of domesticity.
 His hair has been drawn up in a manbun that would be an instant panty-dropper if he went outside right now with the way that he’s left some of his chocolate brown fringe to frame each side of his face. It is wavy with the water from the shower he must’ve taken in the way that it darkly curves to the sides along his eyes and that alone has you suck in a breath. You let your eyes trail downward, your own malnourishment throughout the day causing familiar hungry desire to begin to pool heatedly within you at the visage of the black pajamas you’d bought for him a week ago after he’d ripped his previous pair apart in one particular voracious spur of energy to hastily plunge himself into the silken depths of your pussy. The striped shirt he now wears is open deliciously into a perfect ‘V’ shape that boasts the luscious expanse of his chest all the way down before tortuously stopping at the crest before his navel. He wears the matching pair of pants, their length giving a salacious view of his calves that you are sure the gods themselves must have had a hand in crafting.
  In the dimmed light of the kitchen, you can see the shadows that curl temptingly around his abdominals, your fingers inadvertently twitching against your sides in your want to touch, to feel him again.
 You know from experience how defined his chest is. You know how hot his skin is against your fingers. You know the bliss his body grants, for he has reminded you timelessly in the way that his perfect cock finds its dwelling in the wet warmth of either your mouth or your pussy as he brings you to paradise. You’re quite sure that you’ll never be able to sate yourself of him, the memory of him driving his cock into you from this morning bringing a familiar wave of desire to wash over you. You’d left him on the bed with a hardened cock after round two upon deciding to ride his thigh, thoughts of his pleading words and strained expression living in your thoughts all day long in your decision to punish him for grinding his cock into your ass so early into the morning.
 Usually he wouldn’t have gone so easy on you, but after all your texts throughout the day that were telling of your stresses, he couldn’t find it in himself to discipline you. Wanting to ensure that you felt better, he had decided to wait. After all, patience was a virtue, as you had told him before.
 Before you know it, you’re standing before him, one of his arms winding around you to pull you close as you let your irises dip from his eyes to those lips of his that must’ve been created by the devil himself in how they tempt you. Your boyfriend watches with interest, arousal coloring him internally when you look back up at him, your eyes beginning to cloud over in lust as you slide your hand down the sliver of his chest that he’s left uncovered for you. His skin receives you as if it had been waiting for this very moment, his muscles flexing proudly as you stroke the heated skin with appreciation. He’s more taut than usual under your touch which means he must have gotten back from the gym some time ago in the way that his muscles are tightly tensed from such use.
 It is that thought that has you press your lips to his in a heated kiss, your tongue sliding through his parted lips to kittenishly lick along the roof of his mouth to earn a groan from him, the sound caught between your lips and travelling with sonic speed right down to your pussy. He takes control when you try to wrap your tongue around his, the hot muscle plunging straight into your mouth as the other hand he’d been using to stir the stew abandons its earlier movements to find purchase on your ass as he squeezes you firmly between his fingers. When you disconnect, it is with a pant after the breath he has stolen from you.
 You breathe, “You’ve already made it better, Kookie, but do you want to know something?” You question as you bring your lip between your teeth, enjoying the way his eyes fix on that action as the inklings of desire begin to manifest in his eyes, in the way the soft exterior he’d been showing earlier begins to melt into something darker and far more primal under your attention.
 “Tell me, baby,” He husks as you close one hand around the silk of his shirt to bunch the fabric between your fingers as you dare to unearth the heated skin of his left pectoral, “If this is how you’re going to greet me, I would very much like to know.”
 When your mouth descends upon him to give soft, featherlight kisses along the line of his exposed chest, you manage to utter between them, “I bet the food you made for us is delicious, but the only thing I want to taste right now-” you peer up at him through a fan of dark lashes “-is you. You’re the only one who can give me what I really crave.”
 Your boyfriend’s eyes darken instantly at that, his other hand finding its place along your ass and you need no instruction to wrap your legs around him as he lifts you like you’re a feather only to prop you back down on the cold, hard countertop as he growls, “What a needy little girl you are. Didn’t have enough of this cock this morning, huh? God, you’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?”
 He lowers his head and you instinctively bare your neck for him, your legs spreading so he can step between them as you let your head fall back while one of his hands is already there to cup your nape in his effort to hold you there. You both keep your eyes locked on each other the whole time, desire burgeoning to life wildly within you as he peers at you with a hooded gaze while he moves torturously slow to where you want him and finally, finally, his lips find their home in a hot, open-mouthed kiss on the sensitive spot on right under your ear. 
The warmth of his mouth has you gasp, your back straightening as one of your hands finds purchase in his hair to coax him downward as you mewl, “Yes, Kookie…yes. I’m only a slut for you. It’s only ever been you.”
 You hastily unbutton his shirt while he lets you and instantly you’re salivating at the perfect canvas of him that is presented to you as the offending piece of clothing is pushed off his shoulders. Your palms, magnetized to him, splay over his abs, catching on the ridges of the defined set of muscles as they jump excitedly under your touch while you trail your hands upward. He sighs in satisfaction against your skin when the pads of your fingertips graze his dark nipples and you nearly coo at the sound of that alone.
 “That’s right, Y/N. No one else makes you this desperate, huh?”  He manages between kisses.
 You nod as much as you can in this position and you feel the way his lips turn upward in a smirk borne of the boost to his ego, his lips descending down the column of your neck in a wet trail and it is when he gets to the jugular notch between your collarbones that he presses the wet, heated muscle of his tongue to the delicate skin there that you keen, your fingers curling inward within his hair as he hisses at the pull and in punishment, nips you there. 
You are utterly powerless to stop your juices from collecting along your folds that you know is going to ruin your underwear. Without thinking, your hips begin to search for friction and you grind against him, the warm bulge of his member hardening under your ministrations.
 “A-ah, Kookie, please.” You beg for his mercy and his grin deepens as both of his hands run down your clothed arms. His mouth continues to trail across the sliver of skin over your shoulders and when his hands make another pass upward along you, you watch the way that his brows scrunch together as if disturbed by something and suddenly his devilish mouth is gone. The unforgiving cold is left in his absence and you whine at his loss, not understanding why he has stopped.
 Both of his hands settle on the countertop to either side of you as he leans forward, his tongue hotly poking against his cheek in a sight that only makes you wetter when his eyes narrow, “You smell different. Why?”
 Your boyfriend has always had a sensitive nose, but right now, you’re hardly in the mindset to think about what it is that he’s disgruntled about as you whimper, “Kook, I was doing a lab and dealing with chemicals. That’s all, okay?”
 You watch his fingers curl inward until they’re white with how hard he’s gripping the marble, his jaw setting as he hisses, “This morning you left smelling like me after I fucked you,” he grasps your chin with one hand, “Now you smell like someone else. Explain or you will get none of this cock that I know you want so bad.”
 You try to think past the haze of desire, you really do, but all you can do is blink owlishly as you try to navigate the sea of want for him that has filled your mind. Under his piercing gaze, you’re frozen in place and you swallow thickly to manage the only answer that your mind can supply with a stammer, I-I… It was my lab partner,” you watch his expression begin to contort in anger and before he can sink further into the emotion, you put both hands to either side of his face in effort to keep his attention on you, “He kept brushing against me when I was doing measurements for the assignment, Jungkook. It was nothing. He is nothing to me. I promise.”
 You hadn’t really thought of the implications of the first thing that you’d said, but you could see the momentary fury that had begun to color his very irises and wanting to quell it, you urge him close, your hands falling to rest on his chest as you plead with your eyes for him to understand. You both have been together three years and deep down, your boyfriend knows you would never betray him like that, but the lion of possession within him had roared loudly and there was little he could do to quiet it without the reassurance you had been so quick to feed it with.
 Before you have time to process anything, your shirt has been torn from your body and lands somewhere behind you, but you have no care for that right now. Instead, your focus is on Jungkook, the anger that had begun to set in his irises overtaken by something far more carnal as he orders, “Get on your knees, Y/N. I think you need to be punished for letting someone else touch what isn’t theirs. You’re mine,” he boldly wraps a hand around each breast to give a harsh squeeze, “show me you can be a good girl and suck me off until all you know is the feeling of me on your tongue.”
 His words have fresh arousal depositing itself between your thighs and with a submissive nod, your body obeys. He watches you with a darkened, lustful gaze as you lower yourself to the hardwood floor, your hands still by your sides while your boyfriend, all in one go, sheds his matching pajama pants until they puddle along his feet abandonedly. 
Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, muscled thighs that you’ve fucked yourself on more times than you count, but your salivary glands do not fully exert themselves in hunger until your irises trail up to the thick shaft that arches deliciously upward as a constellation of veins scale along it all the way up the bulbous head that is already wet with precum. His tip rests artfully along his abdominals in some kind of lewd painting brought to life that you could stare forever and a day at, a whine coming from your lips as you lick them.
 Your boyfriend watches with interest as you ogle him and when he sees the pink of your tongue draping itself sinfully against his lip, he declares, “If you don’t get your mouth on me right now, baby, I’m going to fuck your face later, yeah?”
 That one has you moaning in thought, your boyfriend’s lips turning up in a smirk as you quickly lean forward, both hands trailing slowly up his legs and compressing around the thick, corded muscle as you do. When your hands find his member, you lightly run the tips of your fingers over his aching dick, the veins there throbbing energetically at your touch. He groans at that and then one of your hands encircles itself over his base where you gently squeeze the half of him that your fingers can reach, your other hand curling around him and stroking up and down as he grunts in pleasure, his eyes screwing shut.
 You swallow with some effort when your thumb runs over his slit to collect more of his fluid before swathing it along his glans as you ready him for your mouth. He’s already substantially hard, but you have no doubt that he will become even more so when you finally do suck him off. He really does have the world’s most perfect dick and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a thicker, bigger and better one than his. 
Granted, you’ve only ever actually seen and felt his, but you have never had a wish to have anyone else’s. You couldn’t possibly have room to want anything else when he fills you so deliciously, when he fits inside you like he was made for you.
 “Such a nice, pretty cock, Kookie…thank you for letting me have it,” you praise.
 As you bring him toward your waiting mouth, you blow out a puff of air to have him suck in a breath, his jaw clenching as one hand finds itself in your hair to guide you forward. With one final look up to his face, you take him into your mouth to watch his face contort into an expression of pleasure, his eyebrows scrunched together and his hair veiling his face to the point where you can only see his eyes based on the glint in each iris that flashes erotically at you as he takes a stuttered breath. 
Your walls clench contract around nothing as his member fills the wet cavern of your mouth while you try to take him as far as you can. Even like this, your hand still holds his base in his profound length despite the fact that you’ve gotten him as far your throat will allow.
 You’ve deep-throated him many times in the bliss that you have discovered you can grant him and now will be no different. There is nothing that you enjoy more than knowing that you alone can give him pleasure.
 When you’ve fitted him inside your mouth a little bit more, that’s when you run your tongue along his length before sucking, your cheeks hollowing out as you do. Your boyfriend’s fingers tighten in your hair as he growls, “Yeah, that’s it, baby. God, you’re so perfect for me. That little mouth takes me so fucking well.”
 You swallow around him, drawing him deeper into your throat as you all but guzzle him in your ministrations. He leaves a salty taste on your tongue in the precum that you collect and you can’t say you don’t fucking love the taste of him. You hungrily slide your tongue over his slit before kittenishly licking along the sides, a guttural moan tearing itself from the recesses of his body as he bucks under your ministrations.
 When your boyfriend opens his eyes to peer down at you, it’s enough to have his cock throb inside your wet warmth. The way that his cock disappears beyond the cradle of your lips is sin itself, but the way that you stare heatedly at him with desire simmering hotly in those irises of yours…Jungkook thinks if eroticism had a picture, you would be it right now. 
He’s just hit the back of your throat and because of that, drool has begun to pool along the sides of your mouth and fondness floods him at the sight, his thumb brushing away the spit only to lather it over your lips as he croons, “Look at my beautiful, messy girl starting to fall apart on my cock. Fuck, you’re so good for me, Y/N. Such an obedient little girl,” you suction your mouth intensely around him at that, “Think you can take me farther? I bet you can fit all of me down that tight throat of yours if you really try.”
 His praises have your walls fluttering around nothing as you engulf him impossibly farther into your mouth with another swallow, the wet slurping sounds of your ministrations filling the room as he starts to massage your head through tightened fingers that pull at the roots of it. You inhale through your nose, unable to any longer breathe through your mouth through the cock that blocks your airway and in one fluid motion, you press forward and try, but fail, not to gag around him as his dick sinks further into your throat.
 Tears instantly threaten to fall from your eyes as they water, your vision becoming blurry as you sputter against his dick. The sensation of your throat closing around him earns a hiss as he responsively thrusts his cock into you, unable to stop himself from chasing his pleasure.
 You let him fuck your mouth, enjoying the sounds of rapture that tumble freely from his mouth and content in the knowledge that you are able to gift him this euphoria. Tears are quick to fall from your eyes as you suckle him, the wide girth of him easily hitting your gag reflex in the back of your throat as you trail your tongue along the underside of his shaft while you slacken your jaw to ease his access.
 Your boyfriend coos while he watches your tits rise and falls with the efforts of your breaths, “Such beautiful tits, baby. If you hadn’t been a bad girl earlier today, maybe I could have used them as a cocksleeve. I bet you would have liked that, too, you dirty slut.” 
 You preen at his words with a moan, the vibrations of that heightening his pleasure and it is when you slide a free hand under him to grasp and fondle his balls that are extremely full in the seed that aches with need to be released that he grunts with fervor and when you roll them in your hands like dice before you gently run the pads of your fingers over them, he throws his head back, his mouth parting as he drives his cock into you one more time. With how far down his cock hits at your larynx now, you can’t see him any longer through the blurred vision as tears stream down your cheeks while you cry out his name.
 “Fu-fuck, baby. I can’t l-last much longer if you keep doing that. You really love this cock, don’t y-you? Tell me how much you love it. I w-wanna hear it with my cock in your mouth.” He manages through labored breaths.
 You hum in agreeance, the burn of his dick inherently insistent as he moves and the vibrations your sound makes has his cock throbbing dangerously as it begins to swell in warning of his impending end. He’s so hard already and your pussy aches to receive him, your walls contracting around nothing at the feel of his hot member between your lips.
 “I love it, Kookie. I love it so much. Love how big you are.” You splutter despite the very large dick currently nestled between your lips.
 You make a point to show him by swiveling your hand around what little of him is beyond the reaches of your mouth at this point while your other hand drags itself downward from his balls to rub at his perineum. That one has his back bowing inward, his fingers fisting in your hair as he groans and you can feel how his cock pulses in warning of his climax that you cannot wait to taste the fruits of as you flick your tongue along his length once, twice and then three times before suddenly, with a guttural sound, his fist pulls at your hair roughly to effectively extricate himself from your mouth as he breathes laboriously above you.
 You both watch as your spittle clings to his cock in a thin line in its attempts to remain connected to him until it sadly breaks off and away. You whimper at the loss of him, blinking up at him far too innocently for someone that just had a dick rammed down their throat and you watch the way his eyes flash cravingly at you only to rub your neglected thighs together in search of some friction.
 “As good as that was, baby,” he lowers himself down to your level to wipe away the tears that had collected along the sides of your face as he darkly declares, “there’s somewhere else that I want to cum in today and you’re going to let me, aren’t you?”
 You nod without a thought, his hands are quick to wrap around your waist and lift you with ease until you’re splayed out on your back for him along the countertop that is mercifully long enough to support your torso. Your legs dangle precariously off the edge, but they never reach the floor and like this, you’re granted an unfettered view of him, his now engorged dick standing to attention along his abdominals and when you peer up at his blown out irises, you release a shaky sigh in anticipation as he licks his lips like you’re a meal he’s about to fucking devour.
 “You know, I wanted to eat you out, baby. I really did,” he husks as he steps forward between your legs that you part in invitation, “but you sucked me off so good that now all I can think about is ramming this cock into you so hard that you won’t remember anything but my name and getting my fill of you until you milk me fucking dry, Y/N.”
 Arousal ignites within you at that and you pleadingly implore, “I want you to do that, gods, I do, but first, Kook…kiss me. Please, kiss me. After that, you can fuck me to your heart’s content.”
 You don’t know how you find yourself wanting even more of him, but you do. His mouth, you are sure, is the work of an incubus in the way that it can work sinfully against you. The words that tumble from them light the fires of desire within you and just want to feel the warmth of his lips again, honestly. 
 He arches a brow at this as he leans over you, one hand finding purchase along your waist as he rasps, “You want me to taste myself, baby? Is that it?”
 You can tell by the lilt in his voice that he’s playing with you and you already know this is a game he will ultimately lose, for you have a trick up your sleeve that he forever and always falls for. You let your hand slither along your body, your index finger dipping between your wet folds while he watches with a hooded gaze as you bring your soiled hand to your lips to dapple your essence over them like a lewd lipstick before you angle your chin up invitingly to beseech, “Won’t you taste me, Kookie? Don’t you want to taste us? Please,” you whine,” all I want is a kiss. No one...no one kisses me like Jeon Jungkook. Please, Kookie. I want your mouth so bad.”
 Your boyfriend brings his lip between his teeth at that as he lowers himself down to your level, his sinful irises burning heatedly into your skin as he utters, “That’s it, baby. I love it when you beg for me. So fucking hot.”
 With that, his lips descend over your own, your arms wrapping around him as you mewl into his mouth. He consumes you and drinks from you like you’re his last means of sustenance, his lips capturing yours in voraciousness as his tongue runs boldly along them in quick movements of possession before he’s sliding the wet muscle everywhere he can reach in his mission to claim the depths of your wet cavern. He can taste the remnants of himself on your tongue and with the sweet juices of your sex that you’d lathered over your lips, it’s a combination he has come to thoroughly enjoy the taste of in how well flavor of you both coalesce into something so tangy.
When he’s satisfied with his mapping of your mouth, he draws your lower lip between his teeth before suckling the tender flesh to have you gasp at the sensation.
 Distracted by that alone, you do not notice the hand of his that isn’t currently attached to your waist that snakes slowly downward to slip with ease under your grey sweatpants and between the silk panties that cover your womanhood. Your breath hitches upon the sensation of his long, tattooed fingers dragging themselves against your slit and you’re not surprised at the generous collection of your juices that make his digits glide along your folds, but he hiss he makes is delicious when he curses, “Fuck, Y/N. You’re this wet when I haven’t even touched you? God, you really are a slut for me, huh?”
 With one hand, you entangle your fingers along the hair at the nape of his neck as you breathe, “Only for you, Jungkook. This is all for you.”
 He plunges one finger inside you at your response and immediately sibilates at the way that your wet warmth welcomes his digit enthusiastically and energetically. With as wet as you are, you know that you will have no problem taking him, the considerable amount of slick between your legs tangible evidence of your need to receive and welcome him into your sex. It takes no time at all for him to add a second finger, one thumb rubbing at your clit as you moan his name, your eyes falling shut as under his ministrations. Warm waves of heat fall over you under his touch and you bask in his avid attention. Without extricating his hand from your pussy, he orders, “Take off your pants, baby. I want to see this pretty cunt while I fuck it.”
 You heed his command, one hand disconnecting from around his neck to hurriedly discard your pants and underwear along the floor in one fell swoop as your boyfriend’s hungry irises flick downward to feast upon the visage of your dripping cunt. Something about the way that his fingers disappear into your wet depths transfixes him, the squelching sounds that your pussy makes going straight to his core as arousal flares within him. Wanting to prepare you for him as thoroughly as he can, he continues to swirl his fingers over your clit in measured circles before the two fingers he’s got inside you curl inward in a come hither motion. The sensation has you throwing your head back, a stuttered cry coming from your lips as your fingers tighten in his hair and your unoccupied hand latches onto his strong bicep in search of something, anything to cling to.
 His vision darts upward to your face to catch your expression shift to one of pleasure under his touch, thick and heavy desire for you demandant in its need that manifests in the ache of his cock that pulses with need to find its home within your silken walls. He yearns for you so much now that it’s almost painful to bear it when the source of his relief is only a few inches away and, distantly, he thanks the gods above that you’d gotten a birth control implant before you’d both become intimate for there is no greater heaven, he is sure, than when he is burrowing his cock into you velveteen walls and finishing there where he belongs.
 He lowers himself to your ear, his warm breath pebbling your skin as he husks, “What do you want me to do to you, baby? Do you want this? Or,” you whimper loudly when his fingers are pulled from your pussy only to hitch your breath upon the hot, hard member he is quick to slide against your generously lubricated folds, the edges of him torturously dragging just above your waiting slit as he smirks darkly, “do you want my fat cock? Fuck, you really just can’t get enough of me, can you?”
 You mewl when he takes your earlobe between his teeth, his tip brushing along the tender bundle of nerves along your clit, words escaping you beyond his name as you manage, “Jungkook.”
 You watch as he angles himself along your sopping entrance, the continued sweep of his dick across your folds an erotic sight that has heat lather itself like honey over your core as you wrap your legs around him in answer. Words elude you like your mind is caught in his maze and with every stroke of his cock between your sensitive labia, your mind is brought to a dead-end that you have the truest of troubles navigating.
 Your boyfriend takes your silence as disobedience, both hands laying possessively over pierces you with his commanding gaze, “I asked a question, baby. I require an answer if you want to get fucked,” he punctuates this to mercilessly poke his tip against your entrance while squirm against him, “Use that pretty mouth and tell me what you want or else I’m going to tie you up and leave you crying for me on our bed while you get to watch me finish myself off with my own hand.”
 His words have fresh arousal depositing itself within your folds as you mewl, but under his ministrations that have him running his cock along your sex, his dick catches your newly released taint when you wrap your legs around him in your effort to encourage him inside and he hisses at the sensation as your labia embrace and enfold around his member as he squeezes your sides tight enough that there will be marks there tomorrow in the shape of his fingertips.
“Tell me now, Y/N, or you’re going to be punished. You’ve been so good, baby. Do you really want to be naughty now?” He rasps as he uses the grip he has on your hips to pull you even closer, the promise of sin flashing dangerously in his eyes through the fringe that falls along them.
 Powerless to resist his demand, you submissively whisper, “Want …want your big cock. Want you to fuck me so good with it that I can’t walk and for you to paint my pussy with your seed. God, Jungkook, I want you so much right now. Can I please, please have your cock inside me?”
 Your boyfriend leans up to tower imposingly and commandingly over you, excitement flourishing within you in the anticipation of what he’s about to do to you as he smirks while he angles himself toward your entrance and with a flick of a dark brow, he warns, “Prepare yourself, baby, because I’m not going to go easy on you. I’m going to fucking ruin you because that’s what you deserve for getting me so fucking hard for you, (Y/N).”
 That is all the caution he gives you before, all in one go, he propels his length inside you with a sharp thrust of his hips. You moan as he enters you and he doesn’t stop until he’s fully sheathed within you, his tip just barely missing the cluster of nerves hidden within your center as your mouth parts in an ‘o’ shape.
 Your walls greet him eagerly and envelop him with fervor only to cause him to groan, “Fuck, baby. How are you still this tight after I fucked your little cunt this morning and last night?”
 Lost in the sensation of him buried within you, you can’t find the words to answer him when he starts to impel himself into you without abandon, his irises glazing over in desire as he chases his pleasure. Like this, his bangs hang heavily over him and flit back and forth frenziedly in his ministrations, but you can see his eyes in their entirety now and their darkness seeps straight into your core in the lust that simmers there.
 Captured in his consuming gaze, you notice the way that his irises dip from your own to the neglected breasts that bounce in the jostling movement he wracks on you, heat licking up your spine when you watch the tip of his pink tongue hungrily dart across his lips to wet them. Before you realize what’s happened, his hot mouth is upon one of your mounds, his lips suctioning your tit against him with avid voracity as he leaves a purple petal to blossom there under his ministrations. It joins the myriad of others that he’s left from your previous couplings like brands over your skin and you relish in the new addition that marks you as his.
 “Shit, I love your tits so much. So soft and warm in my mouth. You really do have the most beautiful breasts, baby.” he mutters as you close your eyes at the sensation of him on you, your fingers leaving their own claim on him as you claw your nails down his back while he pounds into you with vigor. He seems to approve with the way that he speeds his movements like the rabbit he reminds of while in some kind of heat. You throw your head back when his velvety lips enclose around your areola, his hot tongue flicking against your pert nipple unrelentingly as you buck underneath him with a weak, broken mewl. The sinful chuckle that erupts from him is felt before it is heard, the deep thrum of the vibrations dripping right through you and straight to your core that clenches around him in response.
 “Please…” You breathe out the only word that can come to mind through the haze of hormones that now cloud your vision.
 When you sink one hand into his locks once more to pull at his hair, he makes a sound of disapproval,  blown irises heating you like a furnace as he focuses his sight on you when he growls, “I’m not done yet, Y/N. I’m going to suck these pretty nipples of yours until they’re  fucking swollen because of me. These,” he blows a warm puff of air against the sensitive areola of your left tit,” are mine. You need to be reminded of that.”
 You whimper at that, his other hand palming at your other breast while he rolls your nipple with practiced ease between his fingers. When he punctuates a particularly acute slam of his hips into you with a long, wetted lick of his tongue in a stripe over your engorged bud, that’s what has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you wail, his dick hitting your g-spot with precision that tears the sound from your throat in the way that he pairs it with an agonizingly delicious ministration of his tongue.
 He suckles you through it all and when the warmth of his mouth finally leaves you, your breast is freed from him with a ‘pop’ from between his lips and don’t see the way that he’s painted you with his spit, nor the way that he peers longingly at the engorged, abused nipple he’s left in his wake before he’s moving to the other to latch onto your neglected tit like a newborn trying to coax the life-giving essence of milk from you. You cry out when he decides to nip at you, the hand that he’s left on your hip gripping you roughly in effort to keep you in place against his fierce thrusts of his hips inside you.
 Before long, you feel your nipple harden under his ministrations and with a groan, he releases you from his mouth only to rise and watch your freshly marked breasts move laboriously up and down in your strained breaths, the gleam of his spit shining prominently under the dimmed lights in the kitchen. Your neck is arched back and your eyes are screwed shut in the picture of submission as you let him use you for his pleasure while he continues to pound into you with the strength of an ox every single time.
 You feel fingers grasping your chin to urge you to angle your chin downward as he commands, “Look at me, Y/N. When you’re getting fucked by me, you’re going to watch me and keep those pretty eyes on me so you can burn it into that head of yours that there’s only one man who can make you feel this good.”  
 If you weren’t panting before, you surely are now as your body heeds his demand, his words playing you like an instrument as heat coils heavily in your core as you take him in cravingly while he coos, “That’s a good girl. So obedient.”
  He’s leaning above you now, the muscles of his chest flexing and contracting as he rolls his hips piercingly into you to hit just the right spot time and time again, euphoria steadily building each time. His hair, from all of your attention, is mussed and somehow the man bun he’d been sporting before is looser to allow more of his chocolate tresses to frame his face, his lips reddened from lavishing on your breasts. Sweat sluices his skin everywhere, which somehow makes him even more irresistible as you urge him down for another kiss.
 He denies you at first, deciding to smirk cockily as he angles his head and in the movement, you notice the attractive tint of rosiness to his cheeks in the blood that has rushed there through his earlier efforts as he clucks his tongue, “Words, baby. Use that mouth of yours and maybe you’ll get what you want.”
 You whine as he rams into you, your vision jerking upward as you wrack your brain to formulate some kind of response through the sea of lust that resides there now. Somehow, you manage, “I-I want another kiss.”
 His fingers sink deeper into your waist as he prods, “Yeah? Where do you want my mouth, angel?”
 In answer, you take the hand he isn’t holding you with, your digits wrapping around his index finger as you bring it to your mouth to breathe, “Here,” you lower your joined hands in a slow trail down your throat that contradicts the rapid thrusts he impels you with,” here,” you drag his hand through the valley of your breasts until it’s splayed possessively over your stomach, “and here. I want you everywhere, Kookie. Please.”
 Your boyfriend licks his lips as he lowers himself down once more to your level as he husks, “Fuck, the things that you do to me, baby. You’ll get what I decide to give you, yeah?”
 His mouth descends upon you in a French kiss that puts others to shame, his traitorous tongue leaving no part of your mouth untouched and wrapping possessively around your own in a show of dominance that you have no wish to resist. He presses his lips insistently over yours, consuming you in his wet heat that you relinquish your own mouth to. The hand that had been draped along your side before slides along your waist to relish in your contours, his other hand moving behind your head to hold you there as he drinks his fill of you.
 When he breaks for air, you’re breathing heavily and he gives you no time to recover before heavy, lingering kisses are rained down along your jawline and then he’s descending like a stream down the frontal column of your previously marked throat from last night’s exploits with him. He lathers his mouth over you in open-mouthed kisses, his tongue brushing over your sensitive skin while he keen, your back arching up and into him as you press your naked chest against his own to earn a hiss from him while he continues to pound into you relentlessly.
 His name leaves your lips in a stuttered breath, “Jungkook.”
 Your boyfriend croons, “Be good for me and take it, baby. If you do, I’ll let you cum around my cock.”
Your feel your core tighten and clench compactly around him when his mouth trickles down between your breasts, adding a few more hickeys on the way so that there are now entire constellations of his marks in mottled purples and reds all along your body. When he manages to get to your stomach, that’s when he administers a closed-mouthed kiss that is made domineering by the way his irises peer hotly at you before he parts his lips to lick heatedly above the area of your navel as you whimper out.
 With his face inches from your own, you can see the blown out irises that stare hungrily at you, your gaze thirsting to drink him in as the sounds of your coupling fill your ears. With every roll of his hips into you, his balls slap against your pussy mercilessly in combination with the lewd squelches his dick makes as it drives itself into you without pause. 
He rams into you now with the might of ten men, your core tightening around him as he groans in his ministrations. He pulls you into him with the hand that is wrapped around your side, your moans joining his when the hand he’d been holding your head with snakes heavily down your body in a hot trail from your neck and then down to your abdomen before stopping torturously just before your glistening folds. 
 You wrap your fingers around his wrist to urge him where you need him most as you breathe, “C-close, Kookie. I’m almost there. Please, let me cum.”
 Your walls are beginning to tense around him with your impending end and he knows how to play your body like an instrument to get it to sing the tune he wants. He watches you plead with your eyes imploringly at him while he denies you what he knows you want most, instead choosing to plunge himself inside you especially hard to cause you to cry out. There is nothing quite like your pussy, nothing quite like the way that you suck him in and refuse to let him go until you’ve ensured that he has released inside you like an uncontrollable pubescent boy learning how to come for the first time.
 You make him ravenous and in that appetence, the ambrosia that is you is a delicacy he will never grow tired of. So, he indulges in you and lets himself enjoy your sweet depths for as long as he can until you’re screaming nothing but his name in your need to come undone, your thighs trembling from under him as you curl your fingers unyieldingly around his wrist.
 He finally obliges you, his thumb pressing deeply down onto your clit as you wail in pleasure before he’s quickly drawing figure-eight patterns along the bundle of nerves as he pistons in and out of you deliciously. Your walls begin to quiver with your oncoming end and knowing this, your boyfriend stares zealously at you to darkly command, “Come on, baby. Cum for me. Cream all over this cock that you love so much.”
 It takes one final slam of his hips into you to have his cock bury itself so deep inside your pussy that it perfectly presses against your g-spot while his fingers rapidly attend to your clit before your body instinctively heeds his order, spots erupting behind your eyelids as thousands of tiny, warm presses inside your sex signal your orgasm while you throw your head back, your eyes still locked on him as your mouth parts and you shriek his name out for the entire apartment complex to hear as your climax explodes with the intensity of a firecracker within you.
 He groans at that to utter, “That’s right, baby. Let everyone know who has fucked you so good. Tell them all who owns you.”
 Your walls flutter and spasm deliciously around him and your boyfriend grunts at the sensation, loving the way you wrap around him like your pussy was made for this and before he knows it, he’s throbbing and following behind you with his own release as he colors your walls with his creamy seed in violent, energetic bursts.
 “Mine. You’re mine,” he repeats over and over as you both ride out your orgasms.
 You wrap your arms tighter around him to give him a light peck along his jaw as you say, “Yes, Kookie. I’m all yours. I love you so much.”
 He catches his breath as you fondly wipe away the sweat that has collected in beads along his forehead while you tenderly tuck his fringe behind one ear before he earnestly tells you, “I love you more.”
 Sometime later he feeds you the stew he made for you as you moan in delight at the warm trickle of it down your throat while he spoons it to you from your place  on his lap. Your sounds of enjoyment had been quick to get him hard underneath you as you’d knowingly fidgeted in effort to drag your ass over his member that you found yourself longing for once again. Your antics had proven successful in the fervid way he’d eaten you out like a five course meal before you fed him the dessert of your sweet juices before he’d dragged you to the bedroom for round three. 
Hours after that find you both well into the night with the window open so that the moonlight can spill in on the two of you atop your shared bed. You are sure to remind him just how much you love him then when he wakes to find you grinding on top of him as you welcome him once more into your wet warmth that has only and will only ever belong to him.
2K notes · View notes
tumbledfreckles · 3 years ago
Note
Absolutely!
She should not be doing this. She knows she should not be doing this. She'd been warned against doing this.
But really, Quidditch practice ended half an hour ago. Surely he would have cleaned up by now. Right?
Hope this works! <33
This has not been edited, and it should have been edited, but screw it, I loved this prompt, I've stayed up way past bed time to write it, I wrote 1800 words instead of the 500 I planned, so have it in it's unedited glory and don't judge me too harshly. It's late, but its shirtless James Potter May or Jumpers off for June or really, just a thirst trap drabble to get your week going well.
Lily knocked softly on the door to the locker rooms, her breath caught in her throat, a thrum of anxiety running in her veins. When there was no sound, no answering call, no bid to enter, she paused for only moments, before biting her lip and pushing on the door handle.
She should not be doing this.
Her footsteps were quiet as she made her way down the long corridor that led to the locker rooms. Doors of the unoccupied rooms were shut, her finger tips dragged against the names of each team as she went. Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and then finally, at the very end, Gryffindor. Unlike the others, this door was set slightly jar, light seen through the gaps, but no sounds emerged. The team had clearly departed.
She knows she should not be doing this.
Lily gritted her teeth, taking a deep breath as she pushed open the door, wide enough for her to slip through. It closed gently after her, allowing her to lean back against it, hands still caught on the handle behind her. She clutched the handle for dear life, knowing she should turn it and go back through. Knowing that to go further into the room was a boundary she shouldn’t cross.
She’d be warned against doing this.
As expected, the locker room was at least empty. She’d never been in here before, not being on the team, and never before having anyone she’d wanted to follow into the abyss. The reality was as bad as Lily had imagined. Likely due to the graces and actions of the house elves, it was cleaner than expected. There were no used towels piling around, no dirty, soiled uniforms discarded. The walls were filled with posters and pictures of Gryffindor Quidditch teams throughout the years. Banners and scarves lined the players' open lockers, caught on the name plates fastened above each one.
Almost as soon as she noted the name plates, her eyes caught on one in particular. A name that had fallen from her lips more often than her own had this year. A name that used to come out with derision, but was now pronounced with warmth, with feeling, with an unexplainable but inexplicable feeling of joy. The locker below it was the least orderly of them all, clothing still hung on the hooks, shoes and boots underneath the bench seat in front of it. Shin guards and pads and flying goggles still littered the bench and shelf.
The captain himself was nowhere to be found however. The sound of running water drew her attention to another doorway, at the far end of the locker room. Steam poured out of that room, leaving Lily in doubt that it was the way to the showers. Somewhere she definitely shouldn’t be going. She could wait out here for him. She only wanted to check on him, close the loop on their earlier conversation. She felt guilty for leaving him hanging, but that was no reason to follow him into the showers, surely.
But, really, Quidditch practise ended half an hour ago. Surely, he would have cleaned up by now. Right?
With that solid, solid reasoning ringing in her brain, spurring her on despite a wealth of misgivings, Lily moved forward. Her heart was racing but her movements somehow remained slow, cautious.
“Potter?” she called at the doorway.
No answer came.
Lily shook her head, cheeks already turning red as she contemplated her next action seconds before completing it.
She was only two steps in when she pulled up short.
James stood under the shower, mere metres from where Lily herself stood. A low wall hid most of his lower anatomy, but his back was on full display. Water ran in rivulets over strong, broad, tanned shoulders. It drained off his elbows as James reached to scrub at his hair, a movement Lily had seen him do a million times across their seven years of schooling, but never when he was wet. Certainly not when he was otherwise naked. His back arched, showing the muscles down his spine, lifting the beginnings of the curve of his arse into view.
“Fuck,” Lily whispered, her mouth having gone completely dry.
Of course, while he hadn’t heard her earlier call, he heard her quiet swear. Or maybe he’d felt the weight of her entranced, intoxicated stare. Before Lily could remove herself from a situation she definitely shouldn’t be in, even if it was the most beautiful site she’d seen all day, all week, all year, James turned.
“Lil- Evans,” he said in surprise, jumping slightly, before shutting off the water and reaching for the towel resting on the edge of the wall. “What’s wrong?”
“Noth- shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -”Lily started, taking a step back, only she missed the doorway and landed against the wall next to instead.
It really wasn’t her fault she couldn’t focus.
If James’ back with a gift of meticulously carved marble, smooth skin and muscle that Lily just wanted to sink her teeth into, then his front was a bloody work of art. Well defined pectorals sat prominently, on his chest, surrounded by curved shoulders, impressive biceps that helped his brilliant throws on the field. Pools of water had collected in the curve of his collarbones, enough that Lily could have lapped happily to ease her suddenly restricted throat.
She’d seen glimpses of his abdominals before. He was always reaching for his hair, running a hand through the beautiful, silky locks, she couldn’t help but get flashes as his shirt, or t-shirt, or jumper lifted up. Especially when he was already stretching back across the couch, complaining about the Prefect’s schedule, the points schedule, or the meeting schedule. Any schedule really, just because he knew it would rile her up. So she’d seen his stomach from time to time. Knew his prowess on the Pitch couldn’t come from someone who wasn’t totally fit. But seeing it glistening, rippling as he moved, shadows from the dimmed bathroom lighting emphasising each curve, well…
It was really more than one girl could be expected to take.
“Evans,” James tried again, frowning as he finished wrapping a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower area toward her. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
Lily tried not to focus on how the twisted knot of the towel sat dead centre below his navel. How it drew the eyeline down. How the muscles in his sides pointed down like an arrow toward that knot, making her wonder what was underneath the knot.
“Uh,” Lily forced her eyes up. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you.”
She pretended not to notice how droplets collected on his eyelashes, so much easier to see without his glasses. How his face was devoid of its usual smirk, concern etched across his face instead, furrowing his brow, straightening his smile.
“Sure,” James glanced around, “I was coming back to the castle, you could have waited.”
“I couldn’t,” Lily blurted, before she could stop herself. “I couldn’t wait.”
James quirked an eyebrow, but paused in his steps, now less than three steps from her. At this distance, she could smell him. He was perfumed by that familiar scent of pine and spice, but in the heat and the humidity of the room it surrounded her, consumed her. She tried to take a deep breath in, to focus and prepare herself, but all it did was allow the scent to overwhelm her.
“Well, have at it, Evans,” he encouraged. “I’m listening.”
“Well, before, earlier.. You, uh… you asked, well and I, you, I didn’t,” Lily sighed impatiently at her stuttering, rolling her eyes before realising that meant she couldn’t look at him. Tried to remind herself not to look at him, it was clearly too much to look at such a sight and string a sentence together. Much more of her blithering and he wouldn’t care for what she had to say, mad woman that she was.
“Still waiting, Evans,” James teased now, a small curve of his lips appearing now. He seemed to be realising what had her in such a fluster, and took another step forward. Within reaching distance. Touching distance.
“Oh, fuck it,” Lily breathed, and gave in.
There was no resistance as she reached out and snagged James by the hand, then his waist, then his neck. She tugged his head down, and it came easily until, with a final push on her toes, she crashed her lips against his. His mouth moved without hesitation, giving as good as he got, pushing her back into the wall with a satisfying oof, his teeth finding her bottom lip, pulling it until her mouth opened and the punishing kiss turned into something deeper, sweeter, more satisfying.
Lily’s hands threaded into his hair, before dancing down to shoulders, stroking along his chest. She couldn’t pick a place she wanted them to rest, so she just didn’t, and touched and admired and petted to her heart’s content. James didn’t appear to mind her cheek was cupped, her waist wrapped up with one of those delicious arms she’d admired. He was still warm from the shower, still damp from neglecting to dry off, and she could feel that heat pushing through her clothes, flattening them against her, allowing his touch to burn through to her needy skin.
Without meaning too, having not consciously thought the action through, Lily’s hand landed on the knot in the towel she’d been so focused on moments earlier. The action gave them both reason to pause, and James pulled back just enough as they panted for breath and stared at each other.
She’d never seen his eyes so black, the hazel almost completely hidden dilated pupils and a blazing fire that would have taken her breath, if only his lips hadn’t done the job already. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and Lily’s eyes followed the movement closely, her newly acquired knowledge of the feel, the taste of his tongue, making her imagine in a way that was all too real, how it would feel if he did the same to her.
“You had an answer for me, Evans?” his voice was hoarse, husky, like he’d run a marathon in the seconds, minutes, that they’d been kissing.
“I hardly think it matters now,” Lily’s laugh was almost bitter as it escaped from her, as she pushed back wet hair from his forehead, brushing her thumb softly across the scar above his eyebrow.
“Tell me anyway,” his fingers brushed down her arm, tipped her chin up, catching her lips again for a brief but perfect kiss.
Lily sighed, kissed him again to stall, cupped his face with both her hands to make sure he was paying attention. She was only going to say this once.
“Yes, I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you next weekend.”
357 notes · View notes
drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years ago
Text
Day 106: Eyes
"Malfoy," a voice called as his hair was pushed out of his face and his chin was tilted slightly. "Malfoy," the voice repeated.
Draco was quite certain he must be hallucinating, there was no way that it was who it sounded like.
"Draco," that voice said again, "Wake up."
His eyes fluttered open and he groaned in pain as the light seared through his retinas and straight into his brain.
"Hey," Harry bloody Potter said.
He opened his mouth and spit out a bit of blood.
"Merlin," Potter said, "Do you think you can stand?"
"Yeah," he grunted. "Yes. I'm fine. Thank you for your assistance, Potter."
The other boy huffed a laugh, "Sure. Come on. Let me help you get to Madam Pomfrey."
He shook his head, "Don't let me keep you from your important life," Draco said as he stood up and reached out to steady himself on the wall.
"Draco," he said.
Looking through his swollen eye, he tried to glare at the other boy. "Harry." he parroted.
"You don't have to be so stubborn," he said with a laugh.
He took a step toward the infirmary and his knees buckled.
Potter caught him and put an arm around his waist. "Come on."
(Read more below the cut)
"What? No one else to save?" Draco asked through clenched teeth as he started to hobble off down the hallway using Potter as little as possible.
"Not at the moment, no," Potter quipped. "You want to tell me who did this to you?"
He let out a humorless chuckle, "It doesn't matter."
Potter hummed and caught Draco when he started to slip a bit. "I've got you," he murmured.
Draco tried not to let the words go to his head.
----------
After they'd reached the infirmary Potter tried again to get Draco to tell him what had happened but there was honestly no point.
Madam Pomfrey had shooed Potter out and then Draco had a few hours of peace and quiet while his wounds were healed. Fortunately he had a good book in his school bag, which Potter had carried up for him.
"Why don't you stay over night, love," Madam Pomfrey said and Draco looked up from his book. "You're not quite ready to go back yet and it's just about bed time anyway."
"Thank you," he replied, giving her a little smile before going back to his book.
Shortly thereafter, the door to the infirmary flew open and Draco's head snapped up. Normally an entry of that magnitude meant that something horrible had happened.
But it was just Potter, looking thunderous as he stormed over to Draco's bed.
"Madam Pomfrey's just gone to bed," he said as he closed his book and set it on his lap. "If you've come here to inflict more damage, perhaps you could wait until the morning for her sake."
That stopped the other man in his tracks. "I'm sorry. What?"
"Just, whatever it is that's made you look murderous, I'm sure it's warranted but I do think that Madam Pomfrey deserves a good rest, don't you?"
"I'm not," he shook his head, "I'm not here to hurt you."
"Oh."
Potter rubbed a hand over his face. "I found Smith."
"Ah," he replied.
"He said that you didn't even raise your wand to cast a shield charm to protect yourself," Potter said as though he was personally offended by this.
Draco shrugged.
"Why?" Potter asked. "Hermione thinks it's because the Ministry has told you what spells you can and can't cast, and if that's the case, I'll write a letter to Kingsley right now-"
"It's not because of the Ministry," he interrupted.
"Then why-" he started before pulling over a chair and plopping down next to Draco's bed, "Why do you keep letting this happen to you?"
"I don't see them," Draco replied, staring at his hands that were twisting together in his lap.
"Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't see them," Potter replied.
He shook his head, "Why does it matter?"
"Draco," he said, "You can tell me-"
"There's nothing to tell," he snapped.
"Look, I know that the war was hard on all of us-"
"You have no idea what the war was like for people like me," he interrupted, trying to keep his breathing under control and his voice low.
"No, I suppose you're right," Potter replied and Draco couldn't help but look over at him. "Would you like to tell me?"
"No!" he exclaimed. "There is nothing to tell! Just like there's no reason for me to tell you who keeps cursing me. And there is no reason for me to tell you that I don't stop them because I deserve it!"
They both sat in stunned silence; Draco breathing heavily, his heart hammering away in his chest and Potter just stared at him.
Potter broke first, "You-"
"Don't," Draco said, shaking his head. "Circe, Potter, don't say it. Don't tell me that I don't deserve it because we both know that isn't true."
"Draco," he breathed and it was like he was shoving a jagged, rusty knife straight through his chest.
"Don't," he repeated, begging this time.
"Draco, listen to me."
He shook his head and to his mounting horror a tear spilled from his eyes.
"It wasn't your fault," Potter said.
"Don't," he begged, wrapping his arms around his stomach as though it could stop the way his entire body felt like it was unraveling. "People died-"
"Yes," Potter agreed. "People died on both sides. From your actions, from death eaters actions, from the Order's actions, from my actions; people died. You never actually killed anyone, though. You don't have it in you."
"Potter, I am culpable for-"
"You never killed anyone." Potter repeated. "You didn't want to hurt people, you didn't want to kill people, you just wanted to protect your mum."
"Don't." He shook his head, "You don't understand."
"I actually killed someone," the other boy replied.
"The Dark Lord doesn't coun-"
"When I was eleven," Potter started and Draco was so shocked by those words that he didn't even interrupt. "You remember all of the commotion at the end of the year or first year?"
He nodded slowly.
"I killed Professor Quirrell," he said. "Long story short, because of the blood magic protecting me, he couldn't touch me and it killed him."
"But that's not-"
"Second year, Tom Riddle was sucking Ginny's life force so that he could come back, I killed him. I stabbed the horocrux with a basilisk fang and I didn't even think about it," he continued.
"But-"
"Last year, Pettigrew died because he owed me a life debt and he tried to kill me."
"But-"
"I not only was responsible for Voldemort's death the first time and the second time, I was responsible for killing seven pieces of his soul."
"But it's not the same!" he finally managed to get in.
"Why?"
"Because you were on the right side of things and I wasn't!"
The other boy shook his head, "Yeah but it's not like you wanted to be on that side."
"When I was young-"
"Oh sure," he agreed, "you were a complete arse. But we wouldn't have won if you had turned me in, if you hadn't given me your wand, if you'd killed Dumbledore. It's not who you are any more."
"Still," Draco whispered. "I fixed that closet."
He nodded, "And I can't count the number of things that I've done to cause deaths. Godric, Draco," he shook his head, "I don't sleep well as it is, but I'd never sleep if I held myself responsible for all of the horrible things that happened because of my actions."
"Potter-"
"Look, it doesn't have to happen in a day, but you can't keep doing this, Draco. You can't keep letting people hurt you to atone for your perceived sins."
He let his head fall back against the pillows. As much as he would love to live in the delusions that Potter was offering he couldn't imagine that world actually existed.
"Be my friend."
"Excuse me?" he asked, looking over at the other boy.
"Be my friend," Potter said. "Please."
"Why?"
He sighed, "Because..." he trailed off.
"I'm not a broken thing for you to fix."
"No," he agreed easily. "I'm the broken thing."
Draco stared at him, "You make no sense to me."
Potter grinned like he'd complimented him.
"Will it shut you up if I say yes?" he grumbled.
"For now," he replied with a nod.
"Fine."
"Alright," Potter said, sitting back and making himself comfortable in the chair.
"What are you doing?"
He gave him a little grin, "Being a friend. You're stuck with me like glue now."
"That's a boyfriend not a friend, you're confused."
Potter shrugged and said through a yawn, "Boyfriend, then. That title is fine with me."
"What-?" he started.
But Potter leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead as though it was the most natural thing in the world and every word that Draco knew evaporated. "Good night, Draco Malfoy. Sleep well."
He was so stunned that he said nothing in reply and by the time he'd gotten his thoughts in any semblance of order Potter was fast asleep; his head resting on his hand as he snored.
Draco shook his head and decided that he would just have to wait until the morning to straighten all of this out.
For now, he decided that it might be alright to spend the next few hours with the tiny, fragile ball of joy unfurling in his chest.
--------------
Day 105: Cuddle | Day 107: Charge
284 notes · View notes
ncssian · 3 years ago
Text
A Favor: Part Twenty-Seven
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: working a full time job + part time job tutoring english + applying for scholarships + still having free time left is a lot harder than i thought it would be. which is my way of saying this chapter should've been done a week ago lol.
i call this my goodbye chapter b/c goodbyes are made.
***
As Nesta brings the last of her things into the cabin, Azriel takes the last of his stuff out.
Standing beside Cassian, Nesta watches Azriel shut the trunk over the final box of his belongings. With all the extra stuff he stole from the cabin, it almost seemed like everything wouldn’t fit into his tiny car, but here he is. Ready to go.
He dusts off his leather jacket and approaches her and Cassian. “This is goodbye,” he says, coming to a stop before them.
Nesta once thought this would be the happiest day of her life, second to her wedding day. She should have predicted that her rightful joy would be extinguished by sentimentality.
Cassian claps Azriel on the shoulder, the two brothers having already said their goodbyes in private. Still, Nesta can see a little sorrow in Cassian’s eyes, as if he also got too used to having Az around all the time.
Azriel, the dick, reveals nothing through his eyes. Neither does Nesta.
The two of them look at each other awkwardly for a moment, and then he comes in to hug her. Nesta hugs him back, arms crossing around his broad back, but it has the same stiffness as two Barbie dolls being made to kiss each other.
When Azriel tries to pull away, Nesta clutches him to her with surprising strength. “I know about the picture,” she says lowly in his ear.
“Too late to take it back now.” She might feel him smile on top of her hair.
Nesta lets go of Azriel swiftly, having had enough physical contact with him to last a year. “Drive safe, so Elain can find you in one piece,” she orders.
Azriel grimaces at that, reminded of what waits for him in Velaris. Whatever Elain decides to give him, it’ll probably be deserved.
“I’ll get going then.” Az starts backing away, and Nesta hears Cassian sniffle. She looks toward her boyfriend in concern, but he circles his huge arms around her shoulders and pulls her back to his chest before she can catch him getting teary-eyed.
They watch Azriel get in his car and drive away. Nesta waves until the car disappears fully into the thickness of the surrounding trees, waves until her arms are too tired to keep going.
Once Az is gone, she turns in Cassian’s embrace and jumps up into his arms. Her legs hook around his hips and his hands fit themselves under her thighs. She smiles and tells him, “Let’s go home.”
Ten minutes later, they find themselves sitting in the silence of the kitchen. It’s the quiet of a house adjusting to a missing person, and Azriel’s absence is tangible.
Cassian is the first to break the silence. “Do you think he’s past city limits by now?” he asks as he stirs his coffee.
“No.” Nesta turns the page of her book, focused on reading. “Not if he stopped by Gwyn’s before leaving.”
She hears Cassian stop stirring. “What does that mean?” he says.
Nesta looks up at him and shrugs. “It means he probably wants to say goodbye to her.”
***
“One charge of assault, one for battery, and one huge lawsuit against my company,” Rhys reads aloud from the file in front of him.
Cassian waves a hand in dismissal. “Just make it go away like you always do.”
Rhysand’s near-violet eyes narrow with barely restrained rage. “Cassian. You shattered an employee’s hand.”
“Hey, O’Connell.” Cassian strolled up to him early last Monday morning. The underground parking lot was near empty at this hour, since most workers wouldn’t come in until nine. “How was the rest of your weekend?”
O’Connell looked up from getting his bag out of his car, clearly surprised to see Cassian willingly make small talk with him. “It was good,” he answered lightly. “You left Velaris early, though.”
“Yeah, about that.” Cassian came to a stop by O’Connell’s car and held out his hand, catching the car door before it could be shut. “I had to take my girlfriend home.”
O’Connell looked confused, but nodded along. “That’s nice. Can you—?” He gestured at the car door, indicating to Cassian to let go.
Cassian didn’t. “What hand did you use?”
“Excuse me?”
“When you touched her,” Cassian clarified. “What hand did you use when you touched her?”
O’Connell’s look of confusion morphed into one of contempt. “What the hell are you talking about, man?”
“Nesta Archeron.” Cassian straightened up, hand tightening over the top of the car door. “Your old college friend.” Realization dawned across O’Connell’s face, but he still hadn’t answered Cassian’s question.
“If you don’t tell me now, I’ll have to take my pick.” Cassian clicked his tongue in disappointment. “You’re left-handed, aren’t you?” He snatched up O’Connell’s left hand, and in a flash O’Connell was pressed up against the car, his hand pinned to the doorframe.
“Hey, wait, what are you—” O’Connell protested.
The sound of a car door slamming shut on a hand was louder than Cassian expected. It was the crunch of bones and muscle followed by immediate screaming.
“It could have been worse,” Cassian said flatly over O’Connell’s cries of pain. “It could have been your tongue, since you like talking shit so much.”
Cassian blinks out of the memory. “So what if I did?” he shrugs in response to Rhys.
“You are a member of my inner circle,” Rhysand fumes. “Keith O’Connell is a respected figure in our industry and a higher up from Vanserra and Co., and the head of our Milan outpost, but you saw fit to take out justice on him without asking me first.”
“You had nothing to do with it.”
“That is not up to you!” Rhysand jabs a finger at Cassian. “What will our shareholders think when they hear about this? What will the board members say?”
Cassian is starting to get irritated now. “They won’t find out, because you won’t tell them,” he says firmly. “We both know you’ve covered up worse things to fit your agenda, but it’s a problem if I don’t want a creepy bastard working under my jurisdiction?”
Having learned most of his business tricks from his father, Rhys is no perfectly clean CEO himself. He would’ve done far worse to O’Connell if it was Feyre in Nesta’s place, and he would have ended it all with a speech about how abusers and their sympathizers have no place at Night Court Inc.
The thought only inflames Cassian more; maybe he’s still riding off the anger of O’Connell making Nesta cry.
Tempering his feelings, he tells Rhys, “When you’re done shutting O’Connell up,” because Rhys would do it no matter how angry he pretended to be, “make sure Nesta never finds out about this.”
Rhys sits back in his chair, a bitter smirk pulling at his mouth. “Afraid she’ll be horrified of what a brute her sweet boyfriend is?”
Cassian nearly snorts at the image of Nesta recoiling at a broken hand. She’d probably call him weak for not shoving O’Connell into a ravine. “No,” he answers tiredly. “It’s not violence that offends her, but if she finds out it was in her name… I don’t want to put that on her shoulders.” Which is a shame, because in any other situation Nesta would love to hear about the unfortunate circumstances that led to O’Connell quitting his job.
Rhys lets loose a long sigh. “Damn, you both scare me.” After a few moments, he asks, “Now what are we going to do about Milan?”
***
Life after moving in with Cassian passes by quickly, and before Nesta knows it, she’s completed her second year of law school.
As for the boys who were some of her first friends and drinking companions, back when Nesta barely knew the definition of a friend—today they complete their final year of law school.
Nesta fans herself with the pamphlet she was handed at the beginning of the graduation ceremony, trying to stop the harsh morning sun from melting the makeup off her face. The audience is packed like sardines onto one huge field, and the announcer on stage hasn’t even reached the last names that start with D. Eris, Justinian, and Isaac are all near the bottom of the alphabet.
“Do we really need to be here today?” Nesta murmurs to Emerie, squirming in her metal foldout chair.
Sitting at her right, Emerie throws her a scolding look. “Don’t be like that. We’re never going to see these guys again.”
Nesta sincerely doubts that, considering how none of the guys are moving more than a few hours away. But her uterus is raising hell right now, even though her new meds have put a stop to her periods. Paired with the ache in her back from these terrible chairs, she’s about to call it quits and go straight home.
“Nesta!”
She whips her head to the left, finding Elain striding through the row of chairs to reach the empty seat beside her.
Like watching the Red Sea part, everyone in the row pulls their feet back and makes themselves as small as possible so Elain can have a clear walkway.
Nesta moves the purse she used to save Elain’s seat aside, and Elain drops her butt onto the little foldout chair like it’s a throne.
“A little warm for an outdoor ceremony, don’t you think?” Elain fans her face.
“You didn’t have to come all the way here, you know,” Nesta says.
“Eris made me. I haven’t talked to him since I broke up with his brother, but I think he wants to look like he has a lot of friends here.”
“Yeah, that checks out,” Emerie mutters from Nesta’s other side.
Elain seems to take notice of Emerie for the first time, and her Southern charm turns on like a switch. “Oh my, I don’t think we’ve met.”
Elain introduces herself and Emerie does the same, smiling and nodding politely, and Nesta can’t even decide if she likes this crossover because she’s too busy massaging her aching abdomen.
A string of “Excuse me, sorry!”s go up in the row they’re sitting in, and a moment later a familiar face plops down on the chair to Emerie’s right.
Gwyn leans over Emerie and holds a bottle of Advil out to Nesta. “This is all I could find in my car, babe.”
Nesta releases a sigh of relief and snatches the bottle. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
Elain’s gaze moves to the medicine, then to Gwyn. “You must be Gwyn.” She offers a smile. “I’m Nesta’s sister, Elain.”
Gwyn’s eyes widen imperceptibly, and Nesta realizes she should have warned Gwyn that Elain would be here.
Going off how Gwyn’s been acting the last few weeks, Nesta can only assume that she influenced Azriel’s final decision to move away, whether directly or indirectly. Nesta doesn’t even know much about what happened between the two of them during their weird sex deal, considering that she and Gwyn promised to never discuss such horrible things with each other.
All Nesta knows is that Azriel is Gwyn’s closest male friend, and close friends that have also slept together probably don’t want to bump into each other’s exes without warning.
“Are you here to see Eris graduate, too?” Elain asks.
Gwyn looks like a deer caught in headlights. “Who? Oh—no, I’m just here so we can drive to brunch together after.” Her voice gets quieter with each word, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nice to meet you,” she adds in a murmur, her face a furious shade of red. She quickly looks forward at the stage as if the graduation ceremony is the most fascinating thing ever.
Elain doesn’t note the odd behavior, instead refocusing on the Advil pills that Nesta pops into her mouth and swallows dry. “Are you still hurting?” Elain says, furrowing her thin brows. “I thought you got that problem fixed.”
Nesta tries not to snort as she accepts the bottle of water that Emerie wordlessly passes her. “You can’t ‘fix’ endometriosis, Elain. That’s not how it works.”
“Oh. Well how was I supposed to know that?”
Nesta slides unamused hooded eyes to her sister. Before she can retort anything, Emerie elbows her hard. “Look, it’s Isaac!”
She refocuses on the ceremony, cheering and clapping half-heartedly as Isaac takes the stage. It’s not that she doesn’t care about her study buddies; it’s just that she feels like shit right now.
Justinian follows suit a few minutes later, grinning and waving when he spies Emerie cheering for him. Gwyn is distracted on her phone through all of it.
The Advil has finally started to kick in when Nesta murmurs to Elain, “How is Azriel adjusting to being back in the city?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Elain answers innocently. “I haven’t seen much of him since he returned.”
“Just spill it,” Nesta says. “Azriel wouldn’t tell me anything, so I’m assuming he’s humiliated about it.”
Elain sighs, delicately pushing her hair behind her shoulder. “He came to me to talk. I heard him out, and then we went back to his apartment for coffee, and then I took my fabric scissors and cut out the crotch from all his pants.”
Nesta raises a brow. “All of them?”
“All of them.”
Nesta shrugs, turning back to face the stage. “It’s good enough. I could have done worse.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re not me, isn’t it?” Elain snips.
Nesta won’t say it, but she supposes she is a little happy for Elain. In fact, she thinks this might be the first time Elain has stood up for herself instead of letting Nesta handle it.
After the ceremony is over, Emerie goes off to congratulate Isaac and Justinian. Gwyn follows so she can get away from Elain, and Nesta, being sweaty and overstimulated and more than ready to leave, settles for waving her arms and grinning at the boys from across the field.
She’s about to say goodbye to Elain and make a beeline for the parking lot when she spots a head of shining red hair approaching her. No—make that two heads.
Eris looked unbearably snooty as he received his degree, likely smug with the fact that he has a comfortable job at a family friend’s corporate law firm lined up for him after he passes the Bar. Nesta admits that she’s a little disappointed in him: after all his talk of working hard and being the smartest person in the room, he ended up riding his father’s coattails to a disgustingly high salary. But maybe that is hard work for him, considering that there was such a ruckus in the Vanserra family when he chose to go into law instead of business.
As for Lucien… Well, Nesta really has no idea what the kid does, but she knows he looks good, better than the last time she saw him. An early summer tan makes him glow in comparison to his brother, while lean forearms are revealed under the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt. He looks comfortable in a way he wasn’t at Thanksgiving all those months ago.
Even with his ex standing just a few feet away.
“Elain,” Lucien greets her with a foxlike smile.
Elain rolls her eyes in response and turns to Eris. “Congratulations on graduating, hun. Now that we’re even, kindly delete my number from your phone and never call me again.”
Even? Nesta raises a brow, wondering what that could possibly mean.
“I take it this is goodbye?” Eris tells her.
“I’m already leaving,” Elain says sweetly. She blows a kiss at Eris, then Nesta. “Feel better soon,” she chirps at her, before striding away in her pastel pink heels.
Very jealous of Elain getting to escape before she can, Nesta calls after her, “Hot date to catch?” She’s wearing the signature perfume she usually does when meeting with a man.
Elain tosses over her shoulder, “Something like that.” Her purse swings as she disappears around a corner to the parking lot.
Nesta watches her go with envy, and when she turns back she finds Eris already looking at her. Meanwhile, Lucien still has his eyes glued to the spot where Elain disappeared.
“You feel sick?” Eris asks her.
“No thank you, I have a boyfriend,” Nesta replies on instinct.
Eris scoffs once in indignation, then twice. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he says with disbelief. “I can care about my friends, you know.”
“You want her,” Lucien mutters.
Nesta’s eyes snap to Lucien, who seems to be acknowledging her presence for the first time today. “And what do you want?” She tilts her head at him, intrigued at having a new playmate. He’s less predictable than Eris, at the very least.
Lucien looks at her and offers a sheepish smile. “Nothing you can give me.”
Eris rolls his eyes at the both of them, clearly regretting bringing his brother along with him. “I’m already bored of this conversation,” he laments. “I’m out; the D.A. is here and I want to say hi. Find me when you’re done, punk.” Eris bonks Lucien on the head with his rolled up diploma and starts walking away, only pausing to extend a mocking bow to Nesta. “We’re not over yet, Archeron,” he calls as he leaves.
Now it’s Nesta’s and Lucien’s turn to roll their eyes.
With only the two of them left, Nesta feels obliged to ask awkwardly, “So… how’ve you been?”
Lucien’s gaze slides to her. “I didn’t know you were Elain’s sister,” he says.
She huffs a laugh. “I didn’t know you were her ex at first, either. Does it matter?”
Lucien’s mouth turns down in thought, but he doesn’t answer her question. “I’m doing good,” he says in response to her former question instead. “I’ve been living the nomad life, traveling around with friends, roadtripping in a van.”
But would you come home for Elain? Nesta can’t help but wonder.
She didn’t know Lucien had dated Elain until after her first meeting with him, but even then it had been something of a throwaway detail. Elain dates lots of guys, and falls in love with even more of them. She seemed to barely remember Lucien’s name when Nesta first brought it up in front of her.
But for some inexplicable reason, Nesta genuinely likes Lucien. A part of her recognizes something similar in a part of him, and it makes her sad to imagine him being stuck on a girl who won’t think about him twice.
“Take my advice,” Nesta tells him bluntly, “and move on if you haven’t yet. Staring after Elain when she already broke up with you will get you nowhere.” Elain isn’t the type to ever look back, and she never falls for the same man twice.
Lucien just looks at Nesta with a blank face. “I broke up with her,” he says.
Nesta’s mouth falls open.
“And,” he adds, “I was staring at her ass.” He starts walking backwards to his brother, giving Nesta an innocent grin as he leaves. “It was nice meeting again. See you in another six months.”
Nesta is dumbfounded watching him go, not knowing what to do with this new knowledge. As far as she knows, no one has ever broken up with Elain except for Azriel—and that ended in Az losing all of his pants.
It only occurs to Nesta that she shouldn’t have let Lucien get away with that ass comment when Emerie and Gwyn suddenly appear at her side, each of them interlocking an arm with hers. “You feeling better?” Emerie inquires cheerfully. “Ready to go?”
Nesta nods slowly, forcefully putting Lucien Vanserra and his too-sly demeanor out of her mind. He isn’t her problem right now. Summer is already here with a vengeance, and she’ll only have so much free time with the people she loves most. So she chooses to focus only on them.
Tugging her friends closer and squeezing their arms, Nesta asks, “Where are we eating?”
***
a/n: this needs sooo much more editing lol i could have done a lot more with this chapter if i wasn’t constantly tired and pressed for free time. sorry y’all :/
tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes@readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99 @mystic-bibliophile
180 notes · View notes