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northern-passage · 1 year ago

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this was one of the first snippets i posted back on patreon in 2021, with Lea and Merry. i've edited it a bit (a lot) before reposting it since it was a few years old, and it was fun to see how much more confident i am now with writing intimate scenes than i was back then.

i imagine this would take place sometime while the gang is in Highfell, maybe the first few nights or right before they're setting out to leave again. enjoy~

Lea glances back as Merry quietly steps out onto the balcony, a sudden wave of heat washing over them from inside before the door closes and the cold night air chases it back out. They shiver a bit, eyeing the bottle in Merry's hand as she walks over to where they sit balanced on the railing, their back towards the inn, their feet dangling over the long drop down to the beach below. They take a deep inhale from their pipe, tasting it for a long moment before exhaling slowly.

Merry leans against the railing beside them, her arms crossed over the cold, damp wood, clutching the bottle still in her hand, tapping it lightly with her nails.

"You going to stay out here all night?" Merry asks, peering up at Lea, who just shrugs. "You're wasting that expensive bed in there," Merry scoffs, turning out towards the water and taking a quick drink before setting the bottle aside precariously atop the railing.

"I can't sleep," Lea says simply, staring out at the dark water, fidgeting with their pipe in their hand.

"There are plenty of other things you can do in a bed like that than just sleep," Merry smirks.

Lea huffs, rolling their eyes as they raise their pipe to their lips again.

The waves roll gently out across the beach, the black water shimmering as the full moon reflects its light across the choppy surface, with a soft green glow on the distant horizon from the northern lights. Merry and Lea sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and Lea finds themself glancing sideways, staring at the woman beside them, the soft light of the inn filtering through the balcony windows and igniting her auburn hair in a dreamy glow, clashing with the dark shadows and white, pale light coming off the water.

"What?" Merry says, giving Lea a coy look out of the corner of her eye.

Lea scowls, shaking their head and turning away, lifting their pipe only for Merry to pluck it from their hand, tilting her head and leaning in close as she takes a deep breath, holding the pipe between her lips. Lea doesn't move away, even as Merry exhales, the smoke curling in the small space between them.

"Smoking is bad for you, you know," she says.

"So is drinking," Lea shoots back, and Merry just smiles, holding the pipe in her mouth, her lips curling around the mouthpiece as her teeth flash white in the dark.

Merry slides closer along the railing, her eye roaming over Lea's face, flicking to their lips, and she can’t suppress the thrill she feels when Lea doesn't move away, a sudden nervous energy pulsing in the air. Slowly, Lea reaches out, gently taking the pipe from Merry's mouth, and she lets them, holding their dark eyes in her gaze as they do it, her lips parting just enough for the mouthpiece to slide free. Lea is the one that looks away first, a slight blush creeping over their face, glancing down and fumbling with the pipe in their lap.

Merry is feeling bold, either from the alcohol or the tobacco or both, and she closes the remaining space between them, her hand gently brushing over Lea's thigh - but they go rigid at the contact, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her hand away.

Merry quickly steps back, recoiling, and Lea releases her, their eyes widening.

"What are you doing?" Lea asks, their words coming out too fast, clumsily swinging their legs back over the railing and dropping down onto the balcony. They clutch their pipe to their chest, blinking slowly at the captain, their eyes still wide and wary.

"Sorry, I clearly misread the… situation," Merry says, raising her hands, giving Lea an apologetic look. "I thought you were interested."

Lea hesitates, glancing out at the water, before forcing themself to look back at Merry.

"I - I am," they say quickly, grimacing before dropping their hands and setting their pipe down beside Merry's bottle on the railing. They struggle for a moment, scowling at the pipe and wringing their hands, anxiously twisting a thumb ring that Merry has never noticed before.

"I'm sorry. I just… are you sure?" they finally say, and they can't look at her, their face burning, wishing the floor would just swallow them up. Lea just finds it hard to believe that a woman like the captain would be interested in them - after everything. Of course, there's been flirting and teasing between them, but Merry seems to be like that with just about everyone. And even Lea wasn't sure sometimes if they really meant it - but right now, just the two of them, it feels more real. More tangible.

"I'm sure, Lea."

Merry tilts her head at them, studying their face for a moment. Lea is handsome, and their features look even more severe than usual in the unforgiving moonlight, their eyes flashing as they return her stare. Lea takes a step forward then, but stops short, opening their hands, palms-up - waiting for her.

Merry approaches them as if they were a skittish animal - she doesn't want to spook them again. But Lea gives her a little nod, and soon enough they're so close that she can smell nothing but that tobacco on their breath.

Merry takes their hands, guides them to her waist.

"I'm sure," she says again. "I like you, Lea Chen," she whispers, and Lea bows their head, their jaw set. Merry raises a hand and gently presses her palm to Lea's cheek, and they let out a long sigh, melting into the touch, closing their eyes for a moment before turning their head - just enough to brush their lips against Merry's inner wrist, feel her warmth and taste her pulse.

The gesture seems to ignite them both simultaneously, Merry's other hand tangling in their thick hair, cradling the back of their neck and urging them forward while Lea roughly grabs at her hips pulls her close. Their bodies lock together as their lips meet, teeth clicking against each other and lips splitting painfully in their haste.

It's a messy first kiss, both of them hungry for it, enthusiastic, clumsy, and a little bloody - metallic with the sweet spice of tobacco and alcohol making Lea's head spin as they taste Merry's tongue in their mouth. Merry rolls her hips against their thigh, pulling at their hair and sucking on their bottom lip, ignoring the ache in her teeth as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

Eventually they have to break apart, both of them breathing hard, Merry still gripping a handful of Lea's hair, their bun hanging loose with long strands falling across their face and tickling Merry's lips as they pant together over the sound of the waves.

"The bed," Lea says, breathless, and Merry nods, pulling them back towards the door, and they reach around her for the doorknob, throwing it open hard enough that it slams into the wall and makes both of them wince. But Merry just laughs.

"Sorry," Lea says sheepishly, ducking their head as they gently push it close. It's scorching in the room, from the woodstove, or just from the two of them together, hot and heavy hands roaming and groping as the two kiss again, slowly backpedaling towards the bed.

Merry shrugs out of her jacket, letting it drop to the floor before reaching for Lea's belt buckle. She pulls at their shirt, untucking it from their trousers, and Lea watches as Merry pulls their belt free in one quick motion, tossing it over her shoulder with a smirk. Her hands are surprisingly cold now, slipping beneath their shirt, Lea grunting from the touch as she trails her fingers across their stomach.

"Okay?" Merry prompts, looking up to search Lea's face, and they nod quickly, leaning forward to pepper kisses along Merry's jaw, down her neck, all while her hands explore beneath their shirt, tracing the plane of muscle over their ribs before slowly drawing her nails down their back.

Merry tilts her head back, Lea's lips brushing against her pulse, sucking gently, teeth grazing over her flushed skin, their hands reaching around to slide down the curve of her ass, squeezing roughly until she gasps. Merry pushes their shirt up then, fumbling a bit as she tries to unbutton Lea's trousers, and they laugh, the sound reverberating through Merry's chest before they relent, pulling back so Merry can actually see what she's doing. The buttons are no match for her now, and she gives Lea a coy look through her lashes.

"Take off your shirt," Merry says, her fingers curling around the front of Lea's trousers, partly pulling them open, admiring the glimpse of their lower stomach as they raise their arms to tug at their shirt. They jerk it off over their head, tossing it aside with their belt, and Merry drinks in the sight of them, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks over their exposed torso, their chest and their scars, and all the beauty marks adorning their skin. She releases their trousers to run her hands over their chest, their shoulders, squeezing the swell of muscle in their arms before pulling them back in for more kisses, open-mouthed and still hungry. Lea makes a sound in the back of their throat that sends a spike of want lancing hot up Merry's spine, and she grinds herself against them, her hands tightening around their arms hard enough to bruise. She breaks their kiss then to desperately press her lips to the hollow of their throat, breathing them in and dragging her tongue across their collarbone before blowing cool air over their pulse and making them shiver.

Lea pushes Merry farther into the room, tangled together and nearly tripping over each other until the back of Merry's knees hit the bed.

She drops down, pulling Lea down with her, though they catch themself, a hand on either side of her, palms pressed to the bedspread. They lower themself slowly, sliding their thigh between her legs and flexing it a few times and dragging it up along the length of her until she’s squirming, her fingernails leaving little half-crescents indented in their shoulders.

Lea pushes her shirt up, exposing her stomach, caressing her with a gentle hand before sliding low to kiss her just above her navel. They follow the scattered trail of freckles, their tongue snaking out and leaving its own glistening trail as they slowly make their way down to the waistband of her trousers. Their hands follow close behind, teasing her breasts before sliding down her stomach to her thighs, pushing them apart and opening her legs wide as they take their place on their knees. They pause for a moment, kicking their own shoes off before pulling at Merry's, followed by her trousers, with Merry laughing and wiggling on the bed all the while.

The laughing stops, though, when Lea presses their mouth against her, her breath catching in her throat as they kiss slowly at her inner thighs, sucking on the soft skin and carefully testing her with their teeth. Merry reaches down, fingers twisting through Lea's hair, her body arching back against the bed as Lea drags their tongue over her cock, hot and wet and attentive.

But they stop, pulling back to kiss her some more, on her stomach, her hips, biting at her thighs, all while her hand tightens around their hair until she can't take it anymore. Her thighs clench around Lea's head, breathless and giddy, her long hair starting to stick to the sudden sweat along the back of her neck.

"Lea," she whines, and then she inhales sharply as they finally wrap a hand around her base and press a wet kiss to the tip of her cock, staring up at her as they do, their other hand gripping one of her thighs. They open their mouth, taking a little at a time, bobbing their head as Merry gasps and pulls at their hair. Lea eventually grabs her hips, pressing her back into the bed when she starts to buck reflexively, their movements slow and agonizing as they keep stopping and starting again, kissing her stomach and thighs, reaching up and teasing her nipples through her shirt.

When they wrap their lips around her again, they let her hit the back of their throat, Merry loudly moaning their name, both hands tangled desperately in their hair now as they move up and down a few times and then slowly draw back, their tongue flexing deliciously against her before they let her fall from their mouth with a gasp. Strands of spit and fluid drip from their open mouth, and Merry tugs impatiently at their hair, sitting up then to meet them with a kiss.

Lea holds her face in their hands, their thumb stroking her cheekbone, tentatively touching the fabric of her bandana, still wrapped around her head and hiding her eye from them.

Merry pulls back, Lea's hands still cradling her face, and she reaches up, touching their wrist before taking their hand in her own, guiding their fingers to slide beneath the cloth, giving them a nod when they hesitate, their brow furrowed with concern.

"Take it off," Merry says, though her voice is soft, not a command like earlier - but a request. She nods at Lea again, sliding her hand down their arm and giving it a squeeze. The first time with someone, Merry usually keeps the bandana on - she's protective of it. It's not like it's some big secret - anyone can see the scars beneath the bandana, the way she hides behind it. Maybe they can even tell that she's hiding more than just her damaged eye. But she wants Lea to see. She doesn't know why, but she wants them to see her tonight.

Lea carefully lifts the bandana off, untangling some of Merry's hair twisted through it, setting it atop the blankets. Merry casts her gaze sideways, avoiding Lea as they take in her fully exposed face, her drooping eyelid and her milky white eye. They don't say anything, instead just reaching up again and tracing the scars there, the ghost of a touch along her cheek.

Merry closes her eyes, bowing her head for a moment. When she opens them again, she can't quite meet Lea's stare, so she looks down at their chest, at their own scars, and she mirrors their touch, her thumb caressing the raised skin that runs horizontal just beneath the muscle. Lea takes her in their arms then, pulling her close, humming softly as she touches them there.

"Merry," they breathe, their lips against her neck, and for a moment she just lets them hold her, kissing her throat and cradling her face while she strokes their chest.

Eventually, she slowly pulls back, slipping out of their arms and pressing her hands to their chest, pushing them back onto the mattress, her long hair falling over her shoulders and tickling their face. Sitting between their legs, she touches them with her hands first, caressing their face, the curve of their neck, then feeling the strong muscle of their shoulders, down to the swell of their chest and those long scars. The muscle over their ribs, the soft skin of their stomach, their hips, squeezing their thighs. She stands from the bed and takes off their trousers, dropping back down and starting again, her hands first, slow and deliberate, and then she follows with her mouth, kissing their jaw, the hollow of their throat, trailing along their collarbone before sucking on their chest, massaging and kissing along their scars, drawing a low moan from them before taking one of their nipples in her mouth and teasing them with her teeth. She sucks gently while Lea strokes her hair, pushing it back out of her face, gathering it in one hand and pulling it over her shoulder while their breath quickens with pleasure.

Merry kisses their scars a few more times before sitting back up, licking her lips and running her hands down their stomach and over their thighs again. She slowly draws her hand between their legs, and Lea's hips twitch, longing for her touch, pressing themself against her while they watch her through half-lidded eyes. She pulls back, getting an indignant huff from Lea, licking her fingers before she reaches down to touch them again. She drags her thumb over their growth, moving her hand in a slow circle, Lea's head rolling back against the pillows as she does.

"Fuck," they grunt, gritting their teeth and grabbing at the blankets. Merry stares down at them, pressing a palm to their lower stomach as she strokes their opening, playing with their growth until she's satisfied by their panting and moaning. Lea tries to stay quiet - it embarrasses them, it makes them feel too vulnerable, even more than someone touching them like this - but she doesn't let them. Lea bites their lip, swallowing loudly, sweating and twisting in the sheets until they can't resist it anymore. Her hand works faster and harder, until they finally moan her name, and then she slips a few fingers inside.

Merry pays attention to the spots that make them moan even louder, their body trembling from her touch, her fingers curling slowly inside with delightfully obscene sounds as she thrusts her hand faster and faster, hot and wet. By the time Merry moves her hand away and eases herself inside of them, they're both begging for it, Lea's legs shaking as they lift their hips to accommodate her.

They finish quickly together like that. Skin on skin, grunting together as Lea hooks their legs around her and touches her stomach, lifting her shirt up to grab at her breasts, holding her tight until she has to pull out to come on their stomach. It takes her a moment to recover, Lea pushing her hair back out of her face again, and then she returns her attention to them, working her hand against their growth just like before until they finally come undone completely beneath her. She strokes them gently a few more times before she untangles herself from their legs, standing from the bed and fetching a towel from the washbasin in the corner. She cleans them up, and then collapses on top of them, both of them hot and sweaty and clinging to each other. Lea takes a deep breath, wrapping their arms around her and holding her tightly against their chest.

"Hmm," Merry presses her lips to their flushed skin, giving them a few lazy kisses before tucking her head beneath their chin. "I told you I liked you, Lea Chen."

Lea smiles softly, reaching up to pet her hair, kissing the top of her head and feeling a sudden rush of affection that nearly makes their breath catch in their throat. They gently comb their fingers through her hair, neither of them quite knowing what else to say - until Merry is eventually lulled to sleep by Lea's gentle hands.

They take the chance to study the scars on her face, the slow rise and fall of her breathing, the way her body curls around them with her hands grasping at the blankets, grasping for them, even in her sleep. They notice a few grey hairs this close, and then they start to count her freckles when sleep alludes them.

Eventually they relax, leaning back into the pillows and staring up at the ceiling. They keep brushing their fingers through Merry's hair as they wonder how long it will be until they regret this. Only a few more days left here - only a few more days with her. It will be a clean break, at least.

They glance down at her again, clenching their jaw before turning their head to stare out the windows to the balcony, watching the distant northern lights dance across the water. At least right now, in this moment, they have this. Merry's steady heartbeat pressed against their own, the calming sound of the ocean outside, the heat of the woodstove making their eyes grow heavy - they feel warm and content as they finally pass into sleep, even when Merry slips out of their arms, and out the door.

#also i just realized highfell isnt on the water but theyre sitting by the ocean. oopsie #anyways. this was like the first sex scene i ever wrote LOL #it was very funny rereading it. i also avoided all 'bad' words back then #which i still tend to avoid using too many of them bc i do find them to be silly and a lot of them are like. ough #but you have to call it SOMETHING. you know #i honestly go back and forth about liking how i write these bc they do feel very.... hmm visceral isnt quite the right word #but i know they're not Fluffy or anything i tend to get straight to business lmfao #and then i'll read someone else's work who writes like the softest most beautiful sex scene ever. and im like :/ why does mine #read like a horror movie. LOL #snippets #lea chen #merry harlowe #nsft

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hum--hallelujah · 1 year ago

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like a sledgehammer to a disco ball - 3.9k words, Fun Ghoul angst and protective Kobra Kid

Kobra jerks awake at the first creak of the floor. The only person who has any right to be in his room at night knows better than to step where the floor creaks. Instinct takes over and he's holding his blaster at body height by the time his brain and eyes are awake enough to see through the dark.

"It's me, it's me, it's me," Ghoul stammers, holding his hands defensively in the air. Only, it sounds more like "'smee," because of the way Ghoul is slurring. And he's bleeding.

Kobra drops the blaster as soon as he realizes that the dark smear across Ghoul's face is blood. "What the hell, man," he hisses, groping in the dark for a light with one hand and trying to pat Ghoul down to make sure he's not like, actively dying, with the other. He could be blackout drunk or he could have gone out alone like he does sometimes and any number of things could have happened. The cold metal of an old flashlight meets his fingers and he flicks it on, shining the dim light over Ghoul.

"I did something stupid," Ghoul says. Only, it comes out as "Uh did su'hn stooid," wavering slightly, because the entire right side of Ghoul's face, from the corner of his mouth to his cheekbone, is sliced open. There's a horrific flap of flesh hanging loose that's supposed to be connected to the rest of his face. That's where the blood staining his face and clothes and hands is coming from, and why when he speaks, it sounds wrong.

"Holy shit," Kobra whispers, feeling cold Zone night air sting his eyes because they're open so wide. "Okay. Okay, what happened?" He holds Ghoul carefully by one arm, feels the way he's shaking. He's always shaking, except when he's got his hands in a bomb. This is worse than normal though. This is so much worse than anything Kobra's ever seen.

Ghoul shrugs, waves his hands vaguely and wildly. Kobra hisses a sharp breath through his teeth, frantically runs a hand through his hair. "Okay," He says again. "I'm gonna get-" He needs Jet, de facto medic, he needs Party, needs his brother-

"No," Ghoul says sharply, and that at least is completely clear. His eyes are wild from what Kobra can see in the dark. If human eyes could glow, his would. He grips Kobra's arms. "Please don't," he mumbles around the gruesome injury. His voice is high and frantic, and it has to hurt to talk. "Just you."

Kobra freezes. There's a slowly building feeling of dread, growing stronger by the moment. He pulls Ghoul off him, holds him by the wrists. "Okay. Just me," he promises, and feels sick about it. "Just me."

Ghoul noticeably relaxes, though he's still trembling head to toe, and lets Kobra drag him across the diner in near-silence aside from the occasional seemingly involuntary whimper on Ghoul's part, into the single-stall bathroom with a barely working lightbulb. Somehow, they make it past the front room where Party sleeps without waking him, much as Kobra wants to let his brother take care of this. He's practically trembling at how badly he wants Pois right now.

There's a medical kit in the cabinet that Kobra pulls out immediately. He knows how to handle this, physically speaking. It's whatever else, the shit he doesn't know and is scared to find out, like how this freaking happened, that makes him nervous. Ghoul stands in the flickering light like he doesn't know what to do.

"Sit the fuck down," Kobra snaps nervously, gesturing to the toilet lid. Ghoul does. Kobra pulls a dubiously clean rag from the cabinet and eyes it. It scares him to see Ghoul like this. Usually if he's scared, he fights. He hisses and spits and claws at whoever comes near him. More often than not, that's Kobra. But this, the wide-eyed jittering, is a whole other animal.

"This whole thing is gonna suck," he says stiffly. Ghoul nods. With a little more light, Kobra can see the thick, shiny blood streaming from the wound through his cheek. It isn't enough that Kobra's afraid Ghoul will bleed out, but the cut is so long and clear through and absolutely grotesque. He crouches down in front of where Ghoul is sitting, sideways on the toilet, and he can't tell if Ghoul is looking at him or through him, almost as if he's the ghost.

In a quick motion that startles both of them, probably, Kobra grabs the back of Ghoul's head with one hand and presses the rag to the seeping wound with the other. Ghoul's eyes go even wider and even greener, and what starts out as a shout of pain from him turns into a choked keening sound. Hearing it feels like being stabbed.

"What happened?" Asks Kobra again, when he's convinced that the bleeding has slowed enough to try and actually deal with this thing. He twists the handle on the faucet on and off, on and off, enough times that the ancient water pump starts up and clean water gurgles into the sink. He cleans the rag that way, then wets it and wrings it out before shutting the water off.

Ghoul's shoulders rise and fall in short, panicky breaths. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm- I didn't think, it was stupid, I'm sorry," he continues babbling like that before going silent again aside from the sharp sounds of his breathing.

In a testament to Kobra's selfishness, his biggest worry is that Ghoul took his motorbike out for a spin and crashed it. He can't think of what could have caused something like this. He has visions of his bike sliding out on a turn, crumbled metal and Ghoul's body flying through the air. But if that had happened he'd be hurt other than this. If that had happened he might be dead.

"Yo," he says quietly. "Chill. Just tell me what happened." He presses the now-damp rag to Ghoul's face, trying to ignore just how grotesque the wound really is. Maybe because it's fresh, maybe because of the fear, but somehow it's worse than the space where Jet's other eye used to be. Kobra never wanted to see an injury of that level on another person again in his life, let alone someone he cares about.

Ghoul flinches away, but Kobra shoots him a look and it must process somehow, because he stills and lets Kobra clean the already drying blood away from the edges of the wound with barely a whine. "It was stupid," he repeats, his voice shaking as much as it's slurring. "I don't know why I did it, Kid."

Something about the way he says that, voice small and wavering, sends a chill down Kobra's throat. Sudden understanding dawns on him. The blood on Ghoul's hands. He's not injured anywhere else. "You did that to yourself?" Kobra asks hoarsely.

Ghoul's eyes snap onto his and the rest of the color drains from his face. Kobra thinks he's going to pass out for a second, but he doesn't. He pulls as far away as he can, scrabbling awkwardly against the cold tiles and porcelain of the bathroom. "I don't know what I though, I was stupid, I don't- Kobra," he whines, with enough animalistic despair that Kobra wants suddenly to burst into tears, if he weren't so utterly stunned.

"Ghoul, calm down, I've gotta stitch it still," he says on autopilot. "Cool your engine, man."

Maybe it's the practicality of the thing that makes Ghoul momentarily stop panicking. "I'm sorry," he says again, tears welling in his eyes that he then blinks away half-frantically. Kobra's never heard him apologize for anything before tonight. He never wants to hear it again.

"It's okay, man. I've got you." He replies. If his own voice is shaking now, too, no the hell it isn't. "Come on, you have to let me..." he trails off, eyes wide. "Ghoul, why..." Then he shakes his head. He can't think about that now. He needs to disinfect the wound and stitch it up. And it's going to hurt Ghoul really, really badly.

He reaches behind him, grabs at the bottle of alcohol. This stuff is rare out in the Zones. They try to use it as little as possible. Only in emergencies. This is enough of an emergency, though. This is a fucking crisis.

He pours the bare minimum of the alcohol onto another piece of cloth, feels the cold soak in. Ghoul watches every move with jerking, stilted intensity. Kobra looks up at him from where he's now kneeling on the cold tile. He puts a hand behind Ghoul's head again. "This is going to hurt," he warns. They've nearly gouged each other's eyes out before, yet suddenly Kobra feels like he's going to be sick at the thought of causing Ghoul any more pain. Ghoul shuts his eyes in preparation.

Ghoul still nearly screams when Kobra dabs the alcohol over his wound. Kobra can see it in the way he holds his breath, the spring-tight tension in Ghoul's entire body. The only noise he makes is a quiet, drawn out whine, though. When a tear streaks down his cheekbone, Kobra catches it before a drop of salt can enter the wound.

"'Kay," he says in a ragged whisper. "That's done. Now I have to-" he gestures like he's sewing. Ghoul's eyes pop open to see what he's saying and he visibly forces himself to breathe again.

"'Kay," Ghoul says back in an equally torn up voice.

It only takes Kobra three tries to thread a needle. Medical supplies of any type are hard to come by, a whole new kind of commodity, but this stash has been here for as long as he can remember, just in case. Blaster burns, the most common injuries amongst 'Joys, come pre-cauterized. He's rarely had to sew sutures before.

Ghoul flinches back when the tip of the needle first touches the edge of his torn skin, and Kobra pauses. "Hold still," he grumbles, more out of familiar sniping than any real frustration at this point. He keeps his hand in Ghoul's hair the entire time he sews.

The feeling of a needle piercing flesh is horrible. The fact that it's his friend, someone he'd give his life for before seeing them hurt, is even worse. Kobra wants to fucking throatpunch whoever did this to Ghoul, or better, do the same thing to them, before he remembers with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Ghoul did this to himself.

He ties off the suture just barely keeping his hands from shaking. He doesn't know how Ghoul does this with bombs. Ghoul flinches again, violently, when Kobra cuts the excess line, and Kobra has to jerk back to keep from catching a flailing, uncoordinated fist in the face.

"Hey," he snaps. "Ghoul!"

Ghoul slips off the toilet lid and onto the floor almost as if he intended it but halfway as an accident and immediately curls in on himself. He pulls his knees to his chest and curls his arms around his head and Kobra can hear him hyperventilating. Kobra fucking freezes. He's used to fighting and wrestling and knee-jerk reactions that wind up with someone sporting a black eye. He is terrified right now. And there's still Ghoul's blood on his hands, too.

"Ghoul..." He cautiously reaches out, puts a hand on Ghoul's leg. Ghoul twitches, lets out a hiccupy sound that takes a moment to register in Kobra's mind as a sob. Ghoul, chaos loving, cackling Ghoul, is crying. And not just a single tear, now, his whole body is shuddering with the force of how hard he's crying. Kobra's heart is pounding with how hard he does not know what's happening, but he grips Ghoul's arm and lightly shakes him. "Hey, I'm still here, man."

Ghoul makes that keening whine again and Kobra thinks at first that he's going to pull away at best, or throw a real punch at worst. They fight enough, for any and no reason at all, that he expects it now. That's their normal. This isn't.

Ghoul scrambles to his knees, his hands finding the front of Kobra's shirt. This restroom is small, they're already in close quarters. But maybe unintentionally, maybe just scrabbling for a little purchase on anything, Ghoul winds up grabbing onto Kobra. And Kobra has always had a hard time letting anything go.

Ghoul's forehead crashes into his shoulder and Kobra instinctively puts his hands up, grabs back onto Ghoul in return. Ghoul's usual shaking is familiar to him, but the repressed wracking sobs aren't. Kobra clutches desperately around Ghoul's back, like he could hold together what he's just sewn up, like if he keeps Ghoul close enough he can't shake into pieces. No one should be able to break Ghoul. Not even Ghoul himself.

The edges of the cabinet dig into Kobra's back, but he ignores it. Ghoul is folding in on himself, making himself as small as he can against Kobra, and Kobra doesn't fucking know what to do. He's never seen Ghoul cry like this. He's never seen anyone cry like this.

"It hurts," cries Ghoul suddenly.

"I know," Kobra says, before he realizes that crying like this is probably making everything worse, that he'd worried about salt in the wound a minute before for this exact reason. He can't imagine the pain Ghoul is probably in.

"It didn't hurt at first," Ghoul mumbles, then chokes on a sob. "It didn't hurt when I started. And then it did."

Kobra wants to ask again, why? But he won't get anything intelligible. There's a part of him that doesn't want to know. He's terrified of knowing the truth. Instead, he threads his fingers through Ghoul's hair again and just repeats, "I know. I know."

A few minutes pass in speedy, spiraling silence. The only sound between them is their shared too-fast breathing.

"I can't," stammers Ghoul finally, after his cries have tapered out into raspy gasps. "I can't turn it on or off."

"Huh?" Is all Kobra can think to say. "Ghoul, you're not making sense, nothing about this makes sense," he snips, too quick and too tense. He's so beyond his depth. He wants Jet or Party to come help but he can't have it his way because he promised. He promised Ghoul. He wants to hit something. A wall, just to feel the impact. To imagine he's hitting whatever it is that hurt his friend so badly he hurt himself.

Ghoul sniffs. All Kobra can see of him is the top of his head and the cheek with the stitches. The wound is swollen and red and is going to leave a horrific scar. Kobra clenches his fist tighter behind Ghoul's back. "When I'm having fun or not," Ghoul says. "I can't. I am or I'm not. But."

"But what?" For fuck's sake, Kobra just wants to understand. He can read Ghoul like a book from cover to cover most times, and it scares him that he's so lost right now.

"It isn't good enough," he mumbles. "It's... It's in my fuckin' name, Kid, if I can't live up to that what am I?"

Kobra stares, wide-eyed, at the wall across from him. Something clicks. The clean cut through Ghoul's face, clearly from a recently sharpened knife, clearly intentional, reached from the corner of his lips almost to his ear. "Oh fuck no," he whispers. "Hell no. What the fuck. You're not-" He feels himself shaking suddenly, with restrained searing hot anger. Ghoul cut his head open, mutilated himself, to make himself permanently grin. "You're not fucking beholden to your fucking name," Kobra says. He never swears this much, only in his own mind. He's running out of words. "Fuck," he says, with feeling.

Ghoul shudders again. "I'm fuckin insane, aren't I?" He asks with sudden clarity.

It's exactly what Kobra had been thinking, for once completely unable to figure out Ghoul's mind, but he can't just say that. He can't just say that he's terrified because nothing makes sense and he's never going to freaking leave Ghoul alone again because this is all completely unhinged on so many levels that he can't even begin to sort through it. He can't say anything. He hopes Ghoul is sane enough to understand that, at least.

He just holds his friend tighter. He wants his brother more than anything right now, wants Party to come and take this weight out of his hands, but a part of him knows that even if he did, he wouldn't be able to let go of Ghoul. Why didn't Ghoul want anyone else but him? Why, after pretty much imprinting on Party like a feral kitten when they'd first met, to the point that sometimes Kobra thinks bitterly than Ghoul might know Party better than his own brother does, did he come to him? Why did he do any of this?

If a few tears of his own drip down Kobra's nose and land in Ghoul's tangled hair, no the hell they don't. He's never seen anyone go to pieces like this and he's struck dumb at the fact that it's literal. Very, very literally, Ghoul has gone to pieces. Taken a knife, that's probably still lying on the floor of his abandoned-office bedroom, and cut a line through his own cheek just so others might see a smile there.

There's crazy in his veins. Acid, maybe. And Kobra's always known that even if Party recognized it first. Watching your whole family die, failing to save your baby sibling, doesn't leave a person without any scars. Only, now, the scar is far too visible. Kobra's always known that Ghoul is more wild than any of them. Feral, unpredictable. He was raised by a pair of Killjoys who named themselves Hoot and Holler, and the thing is, a ghoul is just a ghost, and ghosts wail too. He should have known.

"I should've known," he says out loud, the first words in a while. He knows Ghoul so well. Better than he knows himself. He should have known something was wrong. He should never have left him alone. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He can't even blink. He stares hard at the opposite wall and tries not to scream.

Ghoul shakes his head against Kobra's shoulder and winces. "Nuh-uh," he mumbles. "I'm crazy, man. I'm insane." The fuzzy way it sounds around the stitches and the swelling just seems like proof. Just last night Ghoul's cheek was smooth and soft as he grinned across a table in triumph after winning a card game. How is it that that was just a few hours ago? He shudders again. "I'm scared," he says more quietly.

"Me too," Kobra says. As soon as the sun comes up he thinks he's going to storm out into the desert and find something, anything to beat up. Even a freakin cactus would do at this point. He doesn't know how he's going to explain this to Pois or Jet but he knows that much. He's gonna shake so hard he blows up, like a can of soda, unless he hits something. "I fucking hate you," he snaps suddenly.

Ghoul starts to flinch away, but Kobra doesn't let him. In fact, he curls tighter around him without even knowing why. "What the hell," Ghoul rasps.

Kobra hisses through his teeth. Speaking of living up to names. He fucking hates anyone who hurts his friends. But he can't say it. Hard as he tries, in the one moment of clarity about his own mind that he has, he can't speak.

"I fucking hate me, too," Ghoul says finally. The single dusty lightbulb above them flickers. If it goes out, they'll be in total darkness. Kobra thinks one or both of them might have a wicked eyeshine by now. The desert makes you wild. For some people, they're born that way.

"I think you're my best friend," Kobra finally manages to whisper. It isn't exactly what he was going for. It's not something he would ever say if he had thought of it before it popped out of his mouth. But Ghoul gets the point. Of course he does. Ghoul always gets his sharp edges, snakebite teeth and misspoken definitions and all.

"I think you're mine," Ghoul says back. "I'm-"

Kobra smacks the back of his head, like this is in any way normal, like they aren't collapsed on a dim bathroom floor in the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning and like one of them isn't mutilated for life by his own hand. Like this isn't the worst thing they've ever gone through together. "If you say you're sorry again, I'll cut you myself."

It's rough, and it's torn up and pained and choked, but Ghoul laughs. Just a short bark of laughter, hardly like the dry, rasping cackle that Kobra knows so well. It sounds like agony but it also sounds like the sun coming up. Kobra makes a noise in the back of his throat, more whine than laugh, but he's so close to blowing up that it's as good as it gets. He wants to freaking die if that would keep Ghoul in one piece.

Ghoul shifts in Kobra's arms and pulls away just far enough to look him in the eye. He clumsily wipes at the tears and snot all over his face and Kobra has to snap a hand out to catch his wrist before he unthinkingly swipes at the fresh wound and stitches. "Kobra," Ghoul says, shivering in the dark. The sun won't take long to come up once it starts but until it does, the Zones are freezing. "Kobra."

"Yeah, man, I'm still right here." Kobra forces himself to look Ghoul in the eyes and not the stitches. The wound takes up so much of his face. It's all Kobra can see when he looks at Ghoul, his best friend's mutilated mouth, sliced open by his own hand. Kobra flinches just imagining it. He focuses instead on Ghoul's green eyes, boring holes into his head with the desperate pleading in them. "I'm still right here," Kobra repeats, quieter. Reminding himself, too.

Ghoul doesn't blink. Kobra doesn't blink. Their eyes reflect the dim light back at each other. This is what wild animals must feel for each other. Terror. Uncertainty. Just themselves, each other, and whatever comes. Ghoul licks his lips, tongue flicking briefly, visibly, to the corner of his mouth that he cut open. "Don't let me-" Ghoul starts and then falters. "You gotta make sure," he says. "Don't let me- do stupid shit like this, don't let me go crazy again, Kobra, please."

Kobra stares back at him, matching Ghoul's trembling desperation. He's known Ghoul since the day their crew found him, shell shocked between the shelves of an empty gas station with the bodies of his parents and previous crew around him. Perpetually shaking hands and feral bared teeth, animal eyeshine. No one can match Ghoul for determination, and no one knows Kobra as well as he does. Even if Ghoul does know his brother better than him, the same is true in reverse.

Kobra Kid has a hard fucking time ever letting go of anything once he's got it. Fun Ghoul holds on too loosely. They're both terrified. What a pair they make. But when Kobra Kid makes a promise, he means it. He grabs the ends of Ghoul's hair and pulls, not too hard, but hard enough. That's their normal. Play fighting and hair pulling, and they both know it's a kind of language for when they can't speak. "Okay," he says, and because it's a promise, he repeats it. "Okay."

#uhhhh anyway. come to killjoys world with me #I keep calling these two my mongoose and snake #they take out their worst on each other but at the same time it's like they were *made* for each other #also a few notes in the tags: kobra repeats himself a lot. that's intentional. it's because I do it irl #quite honestly at this point I might almost have a stutter??#anyway also there's a TON of super vague song references in here. I almost called this ''a scar away from falling apart''#but I couldn't stop thinking about that one boygenius song while I wrote this. would you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?#also the two(2) minor refs to famous last words!!!!#and very very loosely the ''what a pair they make'' line is bc what a catch donnie came up on my playlist right then #also this is WAY more swearing than I would usually write but... it just felt right? like it helped the flow?? and fit the characters? idk #ANYWHOMST. random danger days precanon fic. the girl isn't here yet.#she speaks!#HMMM do I need a writing tag for this blog?#she writes!#danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #kobra kid #fun ghoul #K I think I've got it covered #wait trigger tags #self-harm tw #self mutilation tw

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thebirdandhersong · 9 months ago

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sometimes (very often) I just sit there like ?????????

#mother has asked once again in all seriousness if i'd consider mr knight if he were to ask me out a second time................#mother the answer is you couldn't pay me enough money to do that. i'd literally rather be single for the rest of my life #between mr knight and the engineer boy ive learned quite a lot about what i'd like/DEFINITELY would not like in a potential boyfriend #and personally. PERSONALLY. i can't do this no more <3 i CANNAE HANDLE that kind of anxiety sadness insecurity confusion!#the anniversary of the day i wrote mr knight a ten page (occasion: valentine's day) love letter for the first time #and received a random Facebook meme and two weeks of radio silence in return is coming up and i must say #that kind of experience is enough for a girl to put her foot down and declare: that's enough. i can't do this no more :-)#anyway father too was like well all things considered mr knight's not the worst option. he's okay. he could turn out okay #to which i say. father. i may seem and feel desperate at times but i'm not THAT desperate.#no offense to mr knight he simply isnt the right person for me and im simply not the right person for him #i wouldnt be offended if he said you couldnt pay me enough money to date her again either (well. maybe a little. but still)

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 4 months ago

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i'm overwhelmed by the amount of positive comments i got on my latest fic! my heart goes out to all the survivors of sexual abuse, and i'm glad my fic has helped many of you process your own trauma. <3

#personal #i honestly wrote it bc i was feeling quite Bad abt very Old Wounds haha as i am sometimes wont to do #bc of a person/event that reminded me of my abuser #i thought it may resonate with like one or two people but i mainly wrote it for myself #and i am so surprised that so many people have messaged me about it #also kinda sad bc that means they've Not Had A Good Time #however i'm very glad my fiction can provide some sort of relief/catharsis #it's an isolating experience to have very ambivalent feelings abt your own abuse #and to become aware of your own patterns of seeking to repeat it/seeking toxic dynamics that remind you of it #about 6 years have passed since i was last abused in such a way #and while i do get randomly sad about it and while it has affected my psyche in a very significant way #and while i still do get the occasional flashback albeit it is much more rare nowadays #and still do react to certain things quite disproportionately #i have to say it DOES get better #esp if you make a tangible effort to heal #you will get there #and while it is a part of you it is not who you are #and you are capable of living a fulfilled and satisfying life #sexually and otherwise #i used to be so upset about not being a Good Victim #but the best thing i've done is that i have given myself grace and stopped policing/moralising my own experience #(that does not mean allowing myself to engage in repeated self-abuse)#(even if i have slipped a couple of times bc i am human)#i have allowed the space for my toxic fantasies instead of trying to banish them #but i have sought to fill my life with other positive experiences #while not forgetting or erasing the negatives #and while my abuse will always be a part of me it will not prevent me from being happy #also kink has helped a lot as well as writing #but i advise ppl to tread VERY carefully with kink as esp as abuse survivors #it is a slippery slope and it can be dangerous in many ways

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britneyshakespeare · 10 months ago

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you know what i realized

is giving

#no im flattering myself #tales from diana #the top left is ned's drawing of me from years ago versus my self-portrait from this week #the bottom is lizzie siddal painted by dante gabriel rossetti compared to her self-portrait #my dad said 'you look angry' when he saw it lol #i am! you know me. pissed. mad.#ned knows how to make me look a pretty ingenue i must say #i do plan on drawing him soon to return the years-late favor. i wrote him poems but that was a different favor #any idiot can write poems. look at me!#anyway i must say im so happy to be drawing again. and my charcoal came in the mail today #50 pieces of vine charcoal. hallelujah #at michaels they'll charge you 5 bucks for three sticks. ridiculous #i wont say publicly how cheap i bought those 50 pieces or you ppl will never forgive me #but it's ok that should hold me off for quite awhile #but i still have a lot of catching up to do before i get to ned's level i must say. not that i anticipate it #im happy w my progress im a happy little clam

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poppy-thatcher · 2 years ago

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Kintsugi (Bakugo Katsuki)

A/N: I don't even care if anyone reads or likes this one. It's 100% self-indulgent. Though, I guess they all are. But this one let me get stuff off my chest that I've been bottling up.

All this to say... I've recently broken up with my boyfriend of 6 years.

The argument at the beginning is, more or less, how our last conversation went. I held back on some of the more cruel things he said to me. And the part after... that's me mending my broken heart the only way I know how to. With protective, cocky, Pro-Hero Bakugo.

You thought he was your forever... but who knew forever had an expiration date. But no worries... your shattered heart won't stay broken for long. And him, he plans to mend your shattered pieces with gold.

Warnings: Cursing from you-know-who. Suggestive talk.

Everything with him tonight felt forced. His smile wasn’t as bright, his attention a little spacey. When I gingerly walked him to his car, clutching my hurt side tightly in my hand, he spun to face me. The sheen in his eyes glossed them more than normal. My heart hammered in my chest. This look was very familiar to me. One I didn’t want to see ever again, one I was promised I’d never bear witness to again. A look I witnessed when we took our 3-month break after 3 years of being together.

With a wavering semblance of braveness, I stepped in front of him, my eyes immediately catching his as I spoke words I didn’t want to.

“Just… just talk to me, please,” I muttered, trying to get him to open up to me, to relay an ounce of what he was feeling. “I can see the pain in your eyes when you look at me, please stop hiding whatever it is you’re afraid to tell me!”

“I’m… I’m moving back home in a few months!” He shouted, a single tear streaking down his handsome face.

He knew this new adventure was something I couldn’t follow him on. He knew I had things here that tied me down to my location, my home.

“I love you more than I’ve loved anyone or anything,” he gently smiled at me, “But I can’t stay here with you any longer. This place makes me feel like my life is stagnant, like I’m wasting my time. I need to get out of here.”

“Oh.” I quietly said.

“We don’t have to split up right away. I’ll be here a few more months before I head back. We can spend our last months together, making memories.”

I nodded, a hollow feeling in my chest, and stepped back. For the first time in our 6-year relationship, I didn’t feel like seeing him or being in close proximity to him.

“Are you okay?”

I didn’t know how to answer that loaded question. My recent surgery left me weak, mentally and physically. Then the person my life circled around, the person I sacrificed pieces of myself for to make sure stayed happy, felt as though his life was stagnant. I had felt like the world’s biggest failure. What good was I if I couldn’t even make my closest friend feel like life with me was something worth sticking around for? Adding an impending expiration date on what we shared didn’t seem like the healthy option but my nerves made me keep those thoughts to myself. Maybe, just maybe, the little time afforded was better than nothing.

Silent tears streaked down my face. I gently wiped them away and looked into his alluring eyes.

“I understand that you have to go. But remember that I’ll miss you more than you can imagine.”

And he tightly pulled me into his chest, holding me close.

I quietly whispered, “I wish you would stay with me, but I understand why you have to go.”

He scoffed and pushed away from me a bit, “That’s a really selfish thing to say!”

I blinked rapidly, my eyes making contact with his, trying to figure out if his loud tone was genuine or if he was joking.

“Sorry?” I said, or more like questioned, unsure how to handle the new situation. Apologies always fell so easily from my lips in an attempt to stop the ever-ticking time bomb from combusting.

“Are you really though?” He asked, his brows furrowing as he kept me at arm’s length.

“For telling you how I really feel? No. I guess I’m sorry that I shared my feelings with you though.” I snapped back.

He gently pushed me away from his hold, pushing himself a few steps away to create space between us again.

“My life is stagnant because you made it that way! You,” and he exhaled, running his hands through his shoulder-length hair, “you made my life stagnant. You’re this burden I didn’t ask for, this dead weight that I can’t bother to carry. I deserve to live my life without dealing with your problems. I have my own to take care of.”

I loudly swallowed, attempting to keep my tears at bay. I pushed as far away as I could, not wanting him to hear the moment my heart shattered beyond repair.

“I didn’t ask for your help…” and he quickly cut off my rant.

“You’ve done absolutely nothing with your life and I don’t want that to be me! If I stay with you, here, I’ll end up sad and pathetic like you. So I’m moving.”

I nodded, putting my head down to not display the silent tears streaking down my face.

He stepped close, heavily sighing, and raised my face to look into his stupid mesmerizing eyes.

“Making you cry was the last thing I wanted to do.”

I pulled my face out of his hands, keeping my eyes to the ground.

Knowing someone I cared deeply about felt this way about me broke me to my core. He knew I felt this way about myself. He knew hearing these things would undoubtedly hurt me beyond repair. He knew this was something I struggled with immensely. Feeling like I was a burden, like I wasn’t enough, like I was just wandering through life trying to find my purpose and coming up empty-handed every time.

“We can stay together until I move, if you want. I don’t want us to end this way, on this horrible note.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, wondering why he thought that was something I’d even want to do. No matter how much I stupidly still loved and cared for him, being with someone when there was an expiration date didn’t feel all that healthy. Even more so when I knew I was nothing but a burden to him.

“I’d really rather not. No sense in staying some place I'm not wanted.” I exhaled, trying to stay strong and stop the tears from flowing.

“I thought you loved me?” he snarled, scoffing back at me.

“Funny, I could say the same to you. But you don’t feel that way about someone you love. Someone you love is never a burden, never dead weight. They’re someone you encourage… not put down.”

“Oh, now you’re just being a selfish asshole about it!”

I scoffed again, realizing this idiot never loved me. Not in the way that I loved him. He couldn't possibly love me with the way he was dismissing my feelings so casually. The way he always did, now that I thought about it. It was clear that he only ever loved himself.

I spun to go back inside my apartment but was quickly turned to face my new ex.

“There’s no coming back from this. Walk away now and I’ll not look back, I’ll not love you ever again.”

I roughly yanked my arm from his grasp, “Like you ever did.”

And I slammed the door in his face.

I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, mindlessly trying to juggle everything in my hands while I made my way through the people to get to the cash register that sat on the other side of the store.

I could see my destination in sight. But before I could even make it that far someone bumped into me, sending all my held items tumbling to the floor.

I pouted and kneeled, beginning to pick them up slowly, mentally trying to figure out how I would balance them again by myself.

His voice cut through the air as he called my name. My heart clenched and I quickly looked up into his familiar mesmerizing eyes.

“Wow, it’s good to see you! You look…. well... you look great!” he smiled down at me, not helping me pick my things off the ground, just watching as I struggled.

I smiled and quietly thanked him, not wanting to be rude and have him cause a scene. I went back to my task, paying him no mind. After a few struggles, I stood, hands full once again, and saw that he was still standing in front of me. He looked down to my full arms and gave me this smug look.

“Retail therapy? Still brokenhearted after all these months?” he smirked that deadly smirk that always made my heart race.

It did absolutely nothing to me this time.

I lightly laughed.

“You think I’m still hung up on you?”

And he leaned in close to me, making me try to take a step back, newly realizing I was already far too close to a clothing display to afford that luxury.

“You’re not?” And he brushed his fingers across my new bangs, carding his hand through my hair as I tried to find a way to make space between us.

“I’d sure as hell hope not. Not when she’s got someone like me to turn to!” I heard the gruff voice behind him.

I exhaled, finally feeling more at ease.

Katsuki pushed my ex out of my personal space and grabbed all the clothes I had in my hands, tsking and glaring at my ex for not even offering me any help. He winked my way and went to the cash register, everyone parting ways for the big Pro-Hero.

My ex opened his mouth like he was going to say something. But Katsuki’s booming voice cut him off.

“Oi, short shit… get that perfect ass over here!” he said, knowing his words made my face heat up and my cheeks and ears to tinge pink.

“Sorry,” I said to my ex, passing him.

Old habits die hard.

My ex, unknowingly to me, followed slowly behind. No doubt, to see what I was doing with a Pro-Hero.

“Do you have to be so loud?” I quietly murmured, blushing Katsuki’s way.

He smirked, making my face that much more red, and pulled me tightly into himself, coiling his hands around my waist and resting them at the apex of my butt.

“I don’t havta be, sweet cheeks,” he said, nudging my nose with his perfect one, “but I want that idiot of an ex to stay the fuck away from what’s mine.”

“Yours, huh?” I smirked back, biting my lower lip.

Katsuki’s eyes immediately drifted to my lips and then his vibrant vermilion eyes met mine quickly.

“Why did you have to get so much stuff?!?” he whined, turning to the cashier who was still ringing my items up, but not daring to remove his hands from my waist.

“You said go wild!” I laughed, “You could have gotten here sooner, ya know? So you could reign me in!”

“No, no. I wanted ya to get the things ya wanted. I just… I need ya like right fuckin’ now. And this is gonna take us all day!”

“It will not, you’re such a baby!” I laughed as he grabbed me tightly in his arms, nuzzling his head into my chest as I ran my fingers through his soft hair, making him purr.

“So… you using the hero for his money?” my ex said, finally making himself known.

Katsuki didn’t move from his position, just turned his head to make eye contact with my ex. He didn’t say anything but the glare he gave him made my ex take a step back.

“It’s just… she wasn’t particularly well off when we split. And it’s only been a handful of months since then. I didn’t think she’d replace me that quickly. Not to mention, she’s probably not found anything she’s particularly good at, right? She still kinda stagnant in life?”

I loudly swallowed, trying to not let my ex’s words get to me. Before I could say anything Katsuki stood straight up but kept me tightly in his arms.

“I’m gonna explain shit to you so your dumbass might learn somethin'. One, she’s not using me for my money. I care for her deeply and takin’ care of all her needs, gettin’ to see that beautiful fuckin’ smile is worth more than money can ever buy. Two, she’s not required to figure herself out in a set timeframe. Some of us take time to grow and learn what we want outta life. What she needed was someone to challenge her, inspire her, and encourage her to do and be whatever the fuck she wants to be. Whenever the hell she wants to be it. I got nothin’ but time when it comes to her.” And he pushed my bangs back, kissing my forehead, as I blushed again.

My ex stood there, brows pulled together, mouth agape. Katsuki turned back his way, keeping me tightly to his side as his hand rubbed methodically on my bare arm.

“By the way. She’s not stagnant. I’ve had her for 4 months and she’s blossomed into everything I could have needed her to be. She’s attentive and a people pleaser. I might have taken advantage of that fact a few times. She’s understanding of me and my hero work. And she’s just genuinely great at everything she does. I wouldn’t change a fuckin’ thing about her beautiful ass. How’s your life goin’ though, pal? Weren’t you supposed to move back to your hometown or some shit like that?” Katsuki laughed, handing the cashier his card, “hey, your loss is my gain. And I ain’t letting her go as easily as you did. I’m gonna marry her and make her have all my fuckin’ kids.”

“Jokes on you, she didn’t want kids!” my ex laughed.

Katsuki smirked at him, then looked at me, “She probably didn't wanna have them with a man-child like you. But she’ll have my kids. Won’t ya, kitten?”

I nodded, blushing, thinking about all the things Katsuki was promising me. I had never met a man who knew what he wanted before. It was shocking and very refreshing.

“Also, it’s her birthday, fuck face. I’d spend my whole paycheck on her if she’d only let me.”

The cashier handed me my bags and Katsuki quickly took them from me, tucking me into his side and kissing my forehead.

“I’m not sure why you’re still hangin’ around. But we’re headin' to my place so I can give her another, bigger, better birthday gift. You’re not invited. I don't share. Later, idiot.” And he pulled us past my ex, making me smile from ear to ear.

When we stepped outside I pulled myself from Katsuki’s side, bending over, hands on my knees, to catch my breath.

“Damn, babe. Are you okay?” Katsuki asked, gently trying to move my curtained hair from my face so he could assess me.

I took a huge gasp in, throwing my head back, finally releasing my loud laugh.

He rolled his eyes lightly chuckling to himself.

“You scared the shit out of me, asshole! Jeez!” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me to his fancy car that Valet had brought around.

“Sorry, but goodness. I couldn’t have asked for a better chance encounter with that jerk. You have just given me the most incredible birthday gift ever!” I said, finally standing in front of him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and playing with his hair that loosely hung at his nape.

“Nah, don’t think I’m done now beautiful. I got ya a lot more things waitin' up at my place.” He smirked.

“If it isn’t a puppy, I don’t want it.” I laughed, joking with him.

“What if I beg instead?” he smiled nice and big. A sight I didn’t see too often.

“I guess that works,” I said, laughing at him while he ushered me to the opened passenger door, waiting for me to get inside.

Unnecessary Extra A/N: If you did, thanks for making it this far in my ridiculous little self-indulgent story. That first bit hurt to re-read. I haven't cried much over the split. Like yeah, the first day absolutely killed me. My eyes were pretty much glued shut. I wasted 6 of my years with someone I thought was my forever. Not only that, but I was still recovering from emergency surgery and on strong pain meds. It all felt like such a horrid nightmare. But yeah... I cried reading that scene this time. Part of me sometimes thinks I overreacted to the situation. But the rational/logical part of myself felt like the split was a long time coming. Looking back at it now, the relationship was incredibly toxic. He suffered from really bad depression (way worse than my own) and I feel like I sacrificed a lot of myself to try and make sure he was happy. In doing so, I lost myself. I lost that person who loved to be artistic, crafty, and loved to write. I spent so much of my time with him, worrying over so much, that I now have the most horrid anxiety. Some days I feel I'm beyond repair. But the episodes are getting further from each other. I have felt more my original self in our time apart than I have in quite a long while. And I'm incredibly thankful for that semblance of peace I've managed to regain. Sadly, we run in the same circles, so seeing him will always be a possibility. Hopefully, I get the same kind of relief my written self got here. Someone who can appreciate me for who I am and encourage me to be an even better version of myself. I'm definitely not in a rush, since I want to get my old self back and do things that make me happy again, but patiently waiting for my Bakugo! 😆

#bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #heartbreak #hopefully I stick with posting #I've written quite a lot of things in my solitude #a lot of Haikyuu pieces #a smut piece I'm especially nervous to post because I still don't know that I'm THERE yet #see... part of me thinks I knew this was coming #i was just waiting for the other shoe to drop #a Yuta piece I wrote when I was still with my ex... it's about cheating on him with Yuta and throwing away a 6-year relationship #it came from a dream I had #I've never even thought about cheating because I'm loyal to a fault... clearly #But if Yuta was real 🤔#my ex was my first EVERYTHING so I think I held on for dear life just hoping that my love would be enough #it wasn't enough for him #but i suppose one day it'll be enough for someone #sorry... I ramble

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