#that are several months overdue

[kozidraws]

[pitconfirm]

not gonna lie I genuinely feel like... an incredible weight lifted off my shoulders to have finally finished something again. I smile

[lazycranberrydoodles]

follow to watch my descent into madness

[selamat-linting]

unblocking several ppl because they admit the ending to wrestledream was ass

[pieofdeath]

When I'm back from camp (tomorrow) it's the writing + art fight grind guys I'm so excited 💪

[spectrumspace]

when the art requires an actual coherent background/setting

[ablednt]

Living in america is like. I may or may not have serious/deadly illnesses but fuck if I know because the closest doctor that accepts my insurance, is taking patients, and doesn't want to violently rip me off all of my medications and yell at me is two hours away and regardless of if I can get a ride or not that is simply not possible to manage as a primary care provider

[helluvapoison]

For All to See

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader x Lilith

Lilith has Lucifer and Lucifer has Lilith. Their eyes are well trained for snakes in the garden, they’re able to watch each other’s backs with ease. Everyone wants to know, just who the fuck are you to the King and Queen of Hell?

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Technically speaking, they don’t need you

• Your heart lurches at the constant reminders

• Everywhere you look there’s capable hands doing anything you could do, and doing it better

• The guards around the Morningstar estate are appreciated and skilled but merely for show, their wise (albeit chaotic) council of Princes have never led them astray and they have more willing servants than they know what to do with

• It’d be impossible to forget how agonizingly obvious it is that you’re not needed beside them. Occasionally it was a paralyzing thought. You were nothing without them but they could continue on just fine without you

• And Lilith, ethereal, graceful, benevolent Lilith, noticed this. Her own heart ached for you, she loved you!

• You tenderly brushed her hair when she hadn’t even rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Combined with her husband’s efforts, you would make her feel beautiful when her mind told her the opposite. You would be on your feet beside her all day, shooting little thumbs ups that restored her energy when she was nearly depleted. Your unfailing attendance from her concerts to afternoon tea brought a comforting sense of normalcy to the disorder of the realm she ruled

• Lucifer, who loved you no less than she, was furious at himself for not realizing on his own

• You were his alarm clock, gently coaxing him out of bed and making the day seem more inviting than it did when he opened his eyes. You snuck into his room when everyone else (Lilith aside) was banished, claiming only to drop off a tray of snacks but would sit with him for hours on end just so that he wouldn’t be alone. When the world was too big, his own thoughts too heavy, it was you that made him feel bigger and stronger

• And you thought of yourself as inconsequential!?

• Blasphomy.

• They would not let this stand another fucking second

• They covered all their bases, working from the inside out

• You were instructed to join them for a portrait. Lucifer picked your outfit while Lilith did your hair then they sandwiched you between them. It took several hours and you ached from standing still for so long but the painting looked absolutely marvelous. Lilith ordered it to be hung in the lobby

• “Not the bedroom?” You asked quietly, tilting your head up at her

• “As much as I’d love to, no. This needs to be seen by our guests! Besides, I have your darling face right there every morning.” She replied sweetly and kissed your cheek on her way out

• You were utterly floored when you saw a detailed third chair, right to Lucifer’s, in the throne room. Meetings were only held here once a month for the public to bring their qualms to the royals but they took a full day to bring to conclusion. Lucifer’s smile widened at your reaction

• “Do you like it?” He asked knowingly, “It’s for you.”

• “Me? I— yes! Yes, it’s lovely. I just don’t understand, I-I was alright standing.” You blink rapidly, your mind racing to catch up with his words

• “Don’t be silly, dove! These matters are a bore and take eternity. This was long overdue.” Lucifer takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, smiling at you apologetically

• Polygamy wasn’t something to clutch pearls over down here and you were never a dirty secret. Magazines, networks, media just happened to only feature the King and Queen of Hell (Later, Lucifer would always point out the blurry spec that was you behind them or to the side or cut off the page) So when you were yanked between them during their red carpet debut, you stared at the camera flashes like a deer in the headlights. Their grips on either of your hands kept you from floating too high

• While your view on the situation changed drastically, it wasn’t atonement enough for Lilith and Lucifer. They never wanted you to feel immaterial ever again

• “You’re not nothing to us,” Lucifer said, holding your left hand. He hid his face in the crook of your neck where you could feel him smiling against your skin

• “We would never abandon you,” Lilith whispered while slipping a matching golden band around your finger. She had you sitting in her lap, facing away from her. She held your hand up for you to see the new obvious, your next reminder of their devotion for you

• Suffocating on their love for you, you choked back a sob to not ruin the moment. Lilith wrapped her arms around you and Lucifer, bringing you both closer to her heart

[littlejuicebox]

Astarion talks in his sleep.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav (Shadowheart is our lovely supporting role though.) Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3, "good/spawn" Astarion ending, all fluff Rating/Warnings: PG / Very mild if any game spoilers but nothing related to major content or scenes Word Count: 900+ Notes: Inspired by this post here!

-----

Astarion talks in his sleep. It’s something you’ve never mentioned to him, because it’s mostly when he’s having a nightmare about Cazador or some other horrid trauma from his past. You'd quickly determined it not worth bringing up, for fear of embarrassing him. Plus, if you were being honest, part of you found it rather endearing... especially the lighter drabble that would escape his lips. Delighted giggles, little purrs... it could be overwhelmingly adorable, on occasion.

In fact, the first time you ever heard him say he loved you was in his sleep. Then you'd waited weeks… anxiously, impatiently, unbearably for the revelation to come out while he was awake, under his own terms.

But tonight, the talking and tossing isn't cute. The vampire writhing in bed disturbs you, and your eyes flutter open, catching the smallest glimpse of daylight between the thick, tightly drawn curtains and shuttered windows of your bedchamber. You'd just fallen asleep, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't the slightest bit annoyed.

You idly try to figure out the date. Adjusting your schedule to the night life was… difficult; you often lost track of dates nowadays. But somehow you manage to remember that it's been nearly six months since you all saved Baldur's Gate; six months since Astarion had been returned to a creature of the shadows. Six months you've been in the house provided by the city as you two adjust to whatever normalcy you are able to conjure up and figure out your next steps. You were a strong proponent for the Underdark; Astarion was not quite sold.

At first you think the silver-haired elf's tossing and turning is a night terror… it’s been nearly two weeks since the last one. He’s overdue. You ready yourself to pop out of bed and grab your calming herbs to steep a quick sleeping draught. But then you hear him, soft and garbled, laced with thick strings of sleep.

“Will you marry me?”

You turn to stare stupidly at the elf, eyes piercing through the blackness of your room; his face is obscured, you cannot tell if he’s awake. “…what did you say?”

Silence. A long, unbearable stretch of silence where your heart is pounding into your throat, practically rattling around your chest cavity at the sudden shock. And then he’s snoring again, and you’re left with your brow furrowed and robe half pulled onto your shoulder. Well, so much for your sleep.

You meander down the hall to the kitchen, where Shadowheart has several jars and plants strewn across the table. She’s practically taken over the kitchen since Gale left, not that you particularly mind, since she’s also taken over the cooking.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep right now?” She asks, spotting you out of the corner of her eye, not lifting her focus from the mortar and pestle in her hand.

“You won’t believe what Astarion just said in his sleep.” You murmur in dazed response, walking over to the cabinets and rummaging through the contents. You grab an old kettle and fill it with water, turning to look at the cleric.

“Gods, what was it? I’m quite thankful to be out of the camp... his night terrors woke all of us up at one point or another. It's no wonder you’re struggling with the schedule adjustment.”

“He said, ‘Will you marry me?’” You respond, almost giggling at how silly that sounds in retrospect, as you place the kettle on the stove.

Shadowheart pauses. One, two, three beats of silence. “Shit… well, I guess the cat is out of the bag now.” She murmurs with a shrug, before returning to grinding her herbs.

“Wh-what?!”

“Oh, come off, don’t be daft! You had to expect it would be coming sooner or later. Gods, your love is almost sickening… it was sickening, having to hear it all the time... once again, so thankful for the separation of these walls.”

You are frozen, your hand still holding onto the kettle as you appraise your friend. Shadowheart is right. You knew a proposal would come sooner or later… you just figured it would be much later. Astarion was still struggling; more often than not you woke to him in tears or in the throes of a sleeping fit. Countless calming elixirs and teas had been drawn up by you and Shadowheart in the last six months. Truly, you hadn’t thought he was thinking that deeply about it... you hadn't been, if at all. Gods, you two still didn't even know where you were headed after leaving this city-supplied house... the lease was up in a few weeks' time.

“I guess… well, I suppose I didn’t think he was ready.” You sigh, lighting the stove and sitting across the table, watching the cleric as she works.

“Oh, trust me, he’s ready. And he's certain. Perhaps not about anything else... but definitely about this. He's been writing to Gale for weeks trying to source a particular ring." Shadowheart responds, now pouring the contents of her grinder into pouches. "Just promise you'll act like it's a surprise when the time comes... he's been talking about it for a while. He's put a lot of thought into things."

"When will it be?"

Shadowheart laughs, the edges of her eyes crinkling as she flicks her gaze toward the ceiling. She’s now cinching the sachets and sorting them all into a nearby basket. "Now that I'm not telling you. I've already given away too much."

You try for a few more minutes to pry the information from your friend, but she remains tight-lipped. You even threaten her with detect thoughts, though you both know you'd never go through with it. Finally, a whistle from the kettle beckons you back to the stovetop, and the conversation is halted as you ready your tea and aim to go back to bed. You might not know when your love is going to pop the question, but you do know that when the time comes, your answer will be a resounding yes.

Click here for Part 2

[heavypressure]

I'm very familiar with constipation, even week-long clogs are a usual occurrence to me. By the end of such week I'm already used to the heavy amount of waste and churning gases in my swollen guts, but it usually ends there with me finally being able to go to the bathroom and empty my bowels, my belly shrinking back to it's normal size. But not this time... I don't know what exactly caused it, but it's been 9 days since my last successful unloading.

I'm sitting in my cubicle at work, my thoughts fixated on my abnormally full middle. My belly looked 7 months pregnant at this point, so tightly packed with waste, gas and food that there was almost no movement inside. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt either so far, just heavy discomfort from all of the weight pulling my belly down, and extreme bloating that began from the fermenting waste deep in my lower intestines.

I gave up on buttoning up my pants a few days ago, forced to expose my lower belly, which was the most round and tight part so far Embarrassed, i decided that i need to take action, but was scared of taking laxatives right away, with blockage that big i was afraid i will literally burst..

I'm probably just not getting enough fiber, so I'm gonna fix it today, and this situation will be finally over!

I came home from work and started working on several smoothies and salads, making sure to add prunes to everything. I figured just one drink wouldn't be enough, so i needed to cram another big meal in my already overfilled stomach... Burping loudly, i chugged another prune smoothie, my poor guts stretching painfully this time. I moaned and rubbed my rock-hard belly, telling myself to hold on just a little bit more. After finishing my meal, i slowly waddled to the bed, exhausted from the painful stuffing, but hopeful that my plan will work.

I was awoken in the middle of the night by a dull pain in my guts. I opened my eyes, and was instantly horrified: my belly looked ready to burst, even rounder than it was before i went to bed, gas roaring loud inside my clogged guts and sending vibrations through my whole body... Well, it seems my fiber idea worked?...

I got up and a loud BBWOOUURRP was forced oit of my mouth uncontrollably, releasing just a tiniest bit of the pressure inside. I waddled to the bathroom and plopped on the toilet, gently rubbing my enormously stretched gut and observing the damage that was done to it over a week ... Oh god, i could see some stretch marks formed near my belly button, how embarrassing... But this is finally going to be over now,...right?

I sat on the toilet for over an hour, listening to my bubbling cauldron of a stomach, trying to push anything i could out, but .. nothing came out but a few tiny (but very rancid) farts... The bubbling soon stopped, and i was left with an even bigger stomach than i had before... Now i had all of the gas that formed from my huge fibre meal stuck inside of my intestines, unable to find it's way out and only bloating me further. I got up and immediately felt every single gas bubble inside, gas cramps shooting through my whole body... Great, i only made everything worse... I waddled to bed again, maybe my belly just needs more time?... Hopefully the next morning things will finally get going....

I woke up feeling like a blimp. Thankfully it seems my belly hasn't gotten any bigger, but it definitely hasn't gotten any smaller too. Over this night i managed to go from looking 7mo pregnant to looking slightly overdue. Thankfully the pain died down significantly, and the noises occured only if i made some sudden movements

Unfortunately i still had to go to work, abd there was no way I'd fit in my regular work trousers this time... I looked around for some old sweatpants, embarrassing and slobby choice, but still better than going out naked

I could feel the mass inside my belly jiggle and grumble with every step i took, but i hoped that maybe agitating my belly more would help it.

I was definitely getting some weird looks at work, some people asking what happened to me. I was too embarrassed to answer that I'm just overfilled with gas and shit, so i tried to change the topic and get back to work so the day would go by faster.

Even i was overwhelmingly full, i still felt intense hunger after not eating anything for the whole day at work.... I was thinking that maybe I shouldn't eat until i deal with my massive constipation, but thought that a small quick snack wouldn't hurt...

While eating a cheeseburger and washing it down with coke, i decided that i should finally try a laxative, no matter how much it scared me.

It was embarrassing, asking for the strongest laxative at the pharmacy, while my balloon of a gut was hanging out for all to see, probably telling the whole story.

I got home and downed several pills instantly, not even reading the instructions. I tried to relax while i waited for the laxative to work.

After an hour, it finally kicked in .. The intense bubbling in my stomach could be heard throughout the whole room, and i felt my guts inflating once more. I went to the bathroom,sat there and massaged my tight gut, letting out a few rancid burps and farts. This gave me hope, finally I'll be back to my normal self!.. I could feel the diarrhea bubbling with gas in my bowels, my stomach roaring with needing to be finally emptied... I pushed and pushed, but the enormous rock-hard log in my ass just wouldn't budge, only allowing for small farts to slip out... i was desperate, it can't be all in vain! I clutched my belly and continued to push, belly still bubbling with gas, but not getting any smaller..

After it seems like two hours with no results, the movement in my belly began to calm down , seemingly ending my chance to let anything out... I was exhausted, my distended middle only seeming even bigger than before... What can i do now?.. am i doomed to bloat and swell further and further?

I waddled to bed again, noticing that i got used to the gas pains, and it didn't bother me that much... My stomach was so swollen, but at the same time, i couldn't deny that it felt somewhat good... Feeling such heaviness, being inflated from the inside, with no way out of this predicament.

One thing that laxatives also do, is they make me really hungry. And i got a day off tomorrow, so ....

One month later....

--GHHHUUOORRRP - Day 29 of my week-off! It feels so good to relax at home, even though i soon need to get back to work.... somehow

Empty paper fast-food bags and wrappers cover the whole floor of my living room. I sit on the couch in the middle, but you can barely see me behind the huge sphere of flesh that's covered with sweat and stretch marks. By the look of an outie belly button, you can guess that this is what became of my belly... My sides are bulging with build-up gas, all that i can feel inside is immense pressure and heaviness from the weeks-worth of food that i crammed inside of my guts. My clothes are of course long gone by now...

Turns out, being constipated for month and a half isn't as bad as it seems to be ...

[not-rigel]

I'm listening

Rating: M

Warning: description of depression, depressive spiral, self loathing, soft sevika, sevika comforts you, sevikas love language is gift giving, words of affirmation is a very close second, I wrote this to cope with my emotions I hope that serves as a BIG WARNING, literally didnt sleep because I was writing this.

WC: 1.4

Darkness embraces you, literally and mentally, while you sit in your room. It's the dead of the night, the worst time for thoughts like the ones crowding your mind to exist. Each horrible thought stacked one atop the other, increasing in cruelty. 

A knock comes at your door and you're ready to pretend you're not home but you hear a familiar voice calling your name. 

“Open up. I got your fancy knife you asked for,” Sevika says on the other side of the door. 

You remember you mentioned wanting a specific knife, and Sevika offered to find it for you. But you didn't expect her to show up at your door in the middle of the night and you certainly didn't want her visit to occur in the middle of a spiral. You'd ask her to leave it by the door but you don't want any of your neighbors to help themselves to your new weapon. 

Shelving your self hatred, you make the exhausting walk to your door and open it for her. Sevika hears your footsteps approach and has the knife held out for you to take. She couldn't wait to give it to you, excited to see your reaction. 

But when you open the door and glance down at the knife in her hand, you don't look delighted. Instead you're indifferent. Sevika suddenly questions if she somehow misremembered which knife she was supposed to get you. 

“Did I get the wrong one?” She turns it over in her hand, checking the engraving on the hilt. She confirms it's the one you wanted. 

“Nothing like that. It's beautiful. I'm just too tired to appreciate it. Haven't been able to sleep tonight,” you half-lie. You gingerly take it from her hand and try to close the door but she holds it open. 

“Wait, I got you something else too,” she digs into her back pocket and pulls out a lighter. “For your candles,” she explains. Months ago she noticed you kept a candle lit inside your home so she brings you a new one whenever she can. A nice lighter felt like a long overdue addition. 

Still, you don't react and it worries Sevika. This can't just be because you're tired. She's been around you enough to know what you're like when you're sleep deprived and this wasn't it. She knows better than to outright ask if you're okay so she tries a different approach. 

“Is there something going on that I don't know about? I can tell you're not just tired,” she pries. 

“Personal shit. Nothing to worry about. Thanks for the knife and lighter. I really do appreciate it.” 

“Can you talk to me about it?” 

“I don't know. You probably won't understand.” You're trying to reject her support but Sevika won't stand for it. 

“Try me,” she urges and for a reason you cannot decipher, you pull your door wider so she can step in, shutting and locking it behind her. She's been in your home several times, walking over to your couch and taking a seat like it's her own. You timidly sit next to her, picking your cuticles and holding a staring contest with the floor. It takes a while for your words to find you. 

“I uh… Just keep having bad thoughts. It starts out small like… I'm not going to get enough sleep in time for work tomorrow then it becomes I'm not good enough at my job because I can't get enough sleep at night and it makes me perform badly. Then it's just… I'm not good enough period because no matter what I do, I'll mess up in some way and I'm just running around aimless. Trying one thing after another like it'll ever work out. All I could think before you showed up was I'm a failure,” you unload a few of your thoughts to Sevika and she listens intently. 

You're a bit caught by surprise when her strong arms wrapped around your shoulders. She gently pulls you across the couch and into her chest. Her right hand cups the back of your neck. 

When she speaks there's only softness in her voice, “I understand. I can't stop you from having those thoughts but I understand. Tell me more,” she soothes, determined to help you through this. She's never heard you speak like this, never heard such harsh words from your mouth. And it killed her inside that they were about yourself. 

You pull back to look up at her. Sevika was usually so stony, expression steeled into a scowl. But all of that roughness was gone. It's too intense and you look back to the floor. 

“I feel ridiculous and repulsive and stupid and worthless and hopeless and empty and like there's no fix for it. It's like I'm remembering every bad memory at once.”

Her hand moved to your chin, tilting your head upwards gently so she could look at you properly.

“I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to look me in the eyes okay?” she asks you, knowing she's asking for a lot at the moment. Even if it's a gesture as small as eye contact. You frown as you fight to pull your gaze from the floor. Sevika watches the struggle heartbroken but she knows you can do it. Eventually, your eyes meet hers and she sighs in relief. 

Her fingers move from your chin to your cheek, holding you to keep your gaze on her, “Listen closely, okay? I need you to not look away. Can you do that? For me?” 

“I'm listening,” you promise, now that you're looking at her you're not able to break from her hypnotic stare. She takes a moment to think of what to say. 

“You’re a good person. Not just a good person, a great person. You don't deserve the blame you give yourself,” she affirms and you listen to every word. You face twitches, lips trying to pull into a frown and brows trying to pinch into a furrow. The words aren't enough to get past the wall but they weaken the foundation. 

“You still listening?” She checks in, making sure you won't shut down. She knows she would try to tune out every word to avoid feeling their weight. 

You nod, eyes welling with tears and sniffling up the snot that drips from your nose. 

“Good. Keep listening,” she continued to hold eye contact with you, “You're smart, you're resourceful, you're good at what you do, you're appreciated, and you're loved.” 

You can't stop the tears now. Sevika avoids lying, feeling like people only lie when they have something to gain and there's nothing she wants from most people. If anything, Sevika felt using the truth is what earns the most. With your tears streaming down your cheeks and falling onto her thumb, she earned the sight of seeing you vulnerable. Sevika has never held something so fragile before. You were so frail, looking up at her with glassy eyes that made her afraid if she moved a finger you would shatter. But when she wiped the tears from your cheek, you remained intact. 

“I- I'm loved?” you heave between cries. Love is a strong word and it's rarely uttered in the Undercity so it's hard to know who really cares about you. You felt guilty for doubting Sevika's words, knowing she's trying her best to comfort you. 

“You're loved by me,” her confession is groundbreaking. Her thumb moved to feel the stream of tears, not wiping them away but allowing them to exist. 

“I never said it but I love you. And I have so many reasons to. Because you're more capable than you believe yourself to be. Because you're resilient. Because you mean the world to me. But mostly because you need love and I need to be the one who gives it to you.” 

Sevika needs to give you everything you need, needs to be the one to hold your face like this every time you cry. Needs to be the one to tell you how beautiful and wonderful you are. She needs to be the one you seek. Be the one to bring you gifts because she can't help but think about you.

“I love you too, Sevika. I'm sorry but … I wish I knew the person you're describing,” you sobbed. 

“No, don't apologize. You are that person, you might not see it that way but you are the person I'm describing. You'll see it one day. I promise. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, convince you that you're any other than the person I'm describing. Are you listening to me?” 

“Yes, I'm listening.” 

[lisenberry]

The Mountain Is You

Ch. 1:  I've become a figment of my imagination

Dom!Ghost and Dom!Price x Sub!Reader

I'm making this one official. (Chapter 2!)

CW: Dom/sub, bondage/discipline, pain play, spanking.

Explicit/NSFW/MDNI

Ghost had been the perfect introductory level Dom.  You’d started visiting the office of Life Connect 141 after a referral from a friend, and he’d had many of the qualities you’d been looking for in a partner. 

He was anonymous and discreet.  With his mask on, you never had to worry about bumping into him in the grocery store or bringing your car into the shop and finding out the man operating the nut driver had whipped your ass raw and called you his perfect little dove as you gargled incoherent sounds around his fingers. 

He was quiet, too, and had a way of making you feel comfortable.  His commands were issued in crisp, clipped tones that were easy to follow and get right.  Yes.  No.  That’s it.  Again?   You even heard his voice in your dreams and used it to ground yourself when you needed motivation or a tether to the present.

You replayed your most effective scenes in your mind in the same way you imagined some people pictured the ocean or listened to bird songs.

The pulsing heat of your backside tucked tightly in a pencil skirt, combined with his languid ‘good girl’ echoing through your mind, was enough to make your panties wet in the middle of a board meeting or standing on the platform at the train station.

And his aftercare was more than sufficient.  Although, to be honest, it bordered a bit on the cold side.  Rehearsed in a way that felt like he was only going through the motions.  Counting the minutes before whispering, “That’s my time, hon,” in your ear as he helped you to your feet.

He was there for you, but he didn’t need you.  It was you who sought out his services.  He’d done his job when you left feeling refreshed and confident to tackle whatever chaos awaited you in the world outside his office.  He was a professional, and you were a client. 

He wasn’t cheap, either.  Your self-care budget had taken a backseat to more pressing responsibilities, and it had become more and more difficult to make an appointment.  He’d become quite popular and needed to be booked further and further in advance.  You didn’t always know if you’d be in the right headspace when he was available, but you didn’t want to give up your place in the rotation. 

But it wasn’t for any of those reasons that you called to cancel your future sessions and take your name off the last-minute openings list.  He didn’t do anything wrong.  It was all you.

You’d trusted Ghost, worked up a relationship where he knew what you wanted and gave it to you exactly how you liked it, with a sniper’s precision.  At least until your latest session, when you desired something a bit...more. 

Work, and life in general, had been especially stressful.  A guy you’d started seeing from the gym had turned out to be a complete creep who stood you up on your second date, and spammed your phone for three days when you didn’t accept his apology or his offer to reschedule.  And your assistant had left for an unexpected medical leave and her temporary replacement didn’t know how to answer the phone. 

You were patient.  You were kind.  You were tired.  And now, on top of everything else, you needed to find a new gym.

It’d been a few months since you’d been in to see him, and you were severely overdue.  It was a recipe for disaster that, had you been a more experienced Sub, you may have been able to avoid.  Never go to bed angry?  Never visit your Dom when you were on the edge of spiraling out of control.

You were in your usual position, bottomless with your hands bound with his silk tie behind your back, ass presented to him on the faux leather sofa and your black lace panties in your mouth.  The mirror in front of you gave a view of the mirror behind you.  A 360 degree look at the crimson blood flowing hot under your fevered skin, the Hitachi vibrator strapped between your thighs and the dark figure at your back orchestrating it all. 

Everything was perfect.  Except that with each crack of the leather crop against your tender surface, you didn’t get any closer to the relief you sought.  You’d hit a wall, right on the cusp of that rapture you chased like a fiend.  Like a starving animal running down a faster prey with the last of its strength.

Pain had always been a curious thing for you.  Walking barefoot on the beach, the sharp rocks and shells against the arches of your feet were tactile and exhilarating.  The punishing ache of a deep tissue massage was more satisfying than the gentle glide of hands on your skin. 

There were times your whole body felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch.  That it needed to be flayed off or burned away, grown anew like antler velvet or snakeskin.

When he counted his twentieth whack, and you weren’t there yet, you whimpered with frustration.  The slickness at your core dried up, and the precipice of your orgasm disappeared from reach.  Just as you teetered at the top of the mountain, you slid back down to the bottom with a hopeless crash.

“Color, pet?”  At the unfamiliar sound of your distress, he stiffened behind you and moved quickly to pull the fabric from your mouth. 

“Green,” you pleaded, tears flooding your eyes unbidden. “Please.  Give me a few more.  I was close.”

“We already did three rounds of twenty.  I can’t go any further today.”  He kept his voice hard and controlled.  “Don’t want to scar this sweet, perfect ass.”

He slipped a glove off one hand and reverently grazed his knuckles over your welting hide.

“I’m renegotiating.  Please!”  You weren’t above begging.  Not like this.  Not when your blood ran hot enough to burn and sweat dripped between your breasts in desperation.

“No.”

“You think I’m weak, is that it?  That I can’t take it?”  Your ire sprung from your helplessness.  Not the physical surrender that you’d craved, but the impotent kind that left you empty and unfulfilled.

“Careful, dove.  Talking back to me like that.”  He slid his gloved hand along your cheek to cup your chin, turning you up to look at him.  Deceptively gentle as he gritted through clenched teeth, “You know better, don’t you?”

“What are you going to do about it?”  A fresh flare of anticipation fluttered through your belly, and settled low, where your bare cunt cradled the head of the vibrator.  

Fathomless eyes narrowed back at you with calculation from the openings of his mask.  The skull painted in place of his face sized you up in a fraction of a second before he let his hand fall away.

You squirmed under his scrutiny, clutching the smooth, hard plastic tighter between your thighs, rutting against the only point of contact you had left.  Willing it to be more and feel better than it did.

He sat silent, watching you struggle for what seemed like hours as your shoulders cramped and your knees shook from the constraints of your position.

“Help me?”  You begged again, running your tongue along your pouty lips.  Hungrily eyeing the zipper of his black dress pants.  “I’ll do anything you want.” 

Finally, he fisted a handful of your hair, pulling tight and sharp.  The sting both too brief and too late.

“You know the rules.”  The sympathetic slant of his head and the soft honesty in his tone pulled you out of the scene once and for all. 

You did know.  For all of its merits, Life Connect 141 also had its limits.  It was a business, and it came with strict guidelines.  No sex and no blood.  No exceptions.  Safe, sane, and consensual.  Sanitized and structured. 

Except none of those things were going to get you where you needed to be at that moment.  So, you did something you never thought you’d do.

You tapped out, muttering your safe word and pulling the plug.  He’d never given up on you before, but the clock had run out, and any further discussion was just a waste of his precious time.

The only indication he’d even heard you was a curt nod of acceptance and a clipped, “Alright,” as he untied your hands and rubbed some life back into your arms.

“Dove?”  He was concerned, and probably looking for his own reassurance.

Too humiliated to melt into his thick, tattooed arms, or to accept his offered ice pack for your battered backside, you simply dressed silently and shook him off with a faked smile.

“I’m fine.  Really.  See you next time.”  With not an ounce of truth.

You didn’t know the etiquette for breaking up your Dom, so you were surprised when you got a call barely an hour after you’d canceled.  Thinking it was a last ditch sales pitch to keep you as a customer, you let it go to voicemail.

But instead of a generic, “What can we do to keep your business,” you were greeted with Ghost’s voice instead.

“It’s me.  I’m just sorry that things ended the way they did.”

Why was he apologizing?  You’re the one who'd made a fool of yourself.  Pushing him for things he couldn’t give you.  As if you were more than just a transaction to him.

“I’d like to take you out for a drink.  There’s someone I’d like you to meet.  He can do more for you than I can.  I think you’ll like him.  I wouldn’t trust my best girl with just anyone.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that, even as it curled your toes.  He probably said that to all his Subs.

“Call me back.  Please?  His name’s John.”

[alienpreg]

Gina's belly felt taut and sore, the sudden growth having caught her off guard suddenly. She didn't remember how it could've happened but she certainly was more compelled to take her friends seriously regarding those 'abductions' she had been hearing about. One late night with a strange man and suddenly she was sporting a baby bump that looked overdue! To say she was panicked was an understatement, but thankfully that last minute emergency text she sent out got to the right people. Agents arrived on scene just as the her growth slower to a stop.

Next thing she knew, she was driven away from her home as it was quarantined. The 'ambulance' seemed oddly equipped for her circumstances but she was far too shocked to question it. Blood was drawn, tests were done, all happening so fast that Gina barely had a chance to get any clarification on where she was being taken.

The place she was taken looked more like a lab than a hospital like she expected. Yet the care from the doctors was more than enough to put her at ease. Several hours and numerous tests she barely understood gave her the strange diagnosis of a 'prolonged pregnancy' which would be indefinite. Despite her protests, the agents reassured Gina that all would be taken care of.

-‐--------------------------------------

Gina is currently being monitored and stable, her pregnancy apparently showing no signs of labor after several months. Her accommodations were only given minor modifications to ensure her mind was at ease. Tests show stress causes severe agitation in the alien subject residing within her womb. Monitoring will continue in-line with her pregnancy until there are any major developments.

[yanderelionwrites]

Under Our Care (Yandere!Bakusquad x Reader)

This is long overdue, but I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: After you sustained a severe leg injury from hero work, the Bakusquad took it upon themselves to take care of you until you feel better. ...Except you've been locked away for months now, and you desperately want out.

Content Warning: yandere, drugging, post-kidnapping, mentioned forced feeding, punishments, being electrocuted, non-consensual touching and kissing, breaking bones

Word Count: 8.5k

(Note: Reader has a specific quirk in this)

The delicious smell of curry wafts into your nose as it sits in front of you on the table, though that hardly encourages you to eat it. All you could do was pick at it, taking little nibbles here and there to appease the two men who were watching you. You just couldn’t eat when you know what’s been done to your food.

“Will you just eat it already? ‘M tired of watching you mess around,” the blond, Bakugo, states gruffly, setting his fork down with more force than he intended. He hates the way you flinch, but continues anyway. “You’re going over there no matter what, so you might as well just get the hard part over with.”

You’ve been doing this routine every other week, but that didn’t make this any easier. You knew once you ate and inevitably fell asleep, you’d wake up in another glorified prison and be stuck with the Three Stooges, aka Kaminari, Ashido, and Sero, for the next two weeks. You loathe when it’s their turn to “take care of you”.

A calloused but gentle hand rests on top of yours. Lifting your head, you make eye contact with the other man who is at the table, Kirishima. He gives you a soft smile, but there is a pleading look in his eyes.

“Please eat for us, (Name). I’m sure you don’t want Bakugo to feed you again like he did last time, so please…” He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. “Eat up, okay?”

You shudder as you remember that experience. Bakugo had grown impatient when you were being particularly stubborn and refusing to eat the sedative-laced food. He had forced your jaw open with such a bruising grip, and then shoveled everything into your mouth until the entire plate was clean. Your hands instinctively reach up to your face as you could practically feel the ghost of his rough fingers on your jaw. 

Your contempt-filled eyes dart over to Bakugo. He only glares back, and you almost thought he was going to reenact that fiasco when he stands up from his seat. Instead, he picks up his and Kirishima’s empty plates and puts them in the sink.

You weren’t about to test whether or not he really would do that again, so you reluctantly began to finish your meal. It had gone cold, but it was still incredibly tasty. You’d never admit it, knowing that it would only go to his head, but Bakugo was the best cook out of all your captors. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy his food to the fullest, not anymore at least.

The drugs quickly work into your system, causing you to feel drowsy and ready to fall asleep any second. By the time Bakugo and Kirishima were done with the dishes, you were passed out on the couch. Your last moments of consciousness were spent being carried by Kirishima towards the front door, Sero’s car waiting out front to pick you up.

It felt like forever ago when the seven of you were all friends, but an odd obsession with you in particular had festered within them. It grew and grew as the years went on, blowing out of control and landing you in the mess you’re in now.

You liked to reminisce about your high school days, back when you were all still in U.A. Back when they acted like normal, sane people. They were so much fun to be around, and you felt like you could unapologetically be yourself with them. Eijiro always made you feel safe and comfortable, and your heart would fill with such warmth whenever he promised he would protect you. Kyoka was level-headed and looked out for you, her laid-back personality always able to calm you down. Hanta was the same way, and you knew you could rely on him for anything. Mina and Denki would always make you laugh, their goofy and upbeat attitude able to cheer you up on the toughest days. Even Katsuki’s presence comforted you, his gruff personality never able to hide the fact that he truly did care about his friends.

Maybe you just never noticed the red flags that arose the more you grew closer to them. Denki and Mina’s lingering touches, Eijiro and Katsuki’s overprotectiveness, the fact that they were always vying for your time and insisting you hang out with them… While it was overwhelming sometimes, their clingy behavior never bothered you too much; you thought it was sweet that they cared for you as much as they did. It wasn’t until they tried to get in the way of your aspirations and goals, was when you started to drift apart. 

All you wanted was to start as a sidekick, somewhere new and fresh, far away from Musutafu. Somewhere that was far away from them. They did not take the news very well, but they reluctantly let you go off and follow your dream.

Someone is trying to poke you awake, but you aren’t ready to open your eyes just yet. … It isn’t until you feel a pair of wet lips make contact with your own, was when your eyes snap open. You scramble to sit up and push the offender away from you, wincing in the process when you put too much pressure on your leg. You glare at the one who had kissed you, and not to your surprise, it was Kaminari. It took everything in you not to slap that stupid sly grin off his face.

“See, you guys? I knew that kiss would wake our Sleeping Beauty up!” He simpers, picking himself up off the floor.

Sero returns from the kitchen with a glass of water in his hand and an unamused look on his face. “Yeah, and look what happened. I told you it wasn’t a good idea.” 

“Yeah, what the heck, Kaminari? I wanted to be the one to wake them up!” Ashido gripes, leaning over you from behind the couch.

Sero’s expression softens when he looks at you, saying, “Sorry about the rude awakening, hun. Are you thirsty? Here, drink some water.”

He hands you the glass, which you carefully took, sipping on the liquid until it disappears. Kaminari tries to sit next to you, but you scoot as far away from him as possible on the couch. The blond continues to draw closer to you anyway. 

“Man, I’ve missed seeing your gorgeous face, honeypie,” he sighs, a hand coming up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You flinch, but Kaminari doesn’t seem to notice. “I really wish we could keep you here for longer. Two weeks just isn’t enough.”

“If Bakugo heard you say that, he’d throw a fit,” Sero says, chuckling. He takes your empty cup and puts it in the sink.

“Right? Remember when we suggested monthly intervals? He shut that down so fast, it was kind of hilarious,” Ashido says, sitting on the couch’s armrest so she could pull you into her embrace. “You’re just so cute, (Name), you drive us crazy like that!”

They were talking about the supposed agreement the six of them had made before kidnapping you. Since they all didn’t live together, they came up with a plan to “rotate” you between their three different homes. You’d stay at one place for two weeks before being moved to the next group, having to be sedated before each move to make things “easier”. Sero, Kaminari, and Ashido shared a fairly nice, high-rise apartment in the city, a major contrast to Jiro’s suburban home and Bakugo and Kirishima’s house in the mountains. They were all comfortable places to stay, but that didn’t matter much when you were confined there under lock and key. Their security was unmatched, making it almost impossible to escape.

Ashido’s hold tightens, and you whine in discomfort, tugging on her arm to let you go. She didn’t, of course, only pouting and pulling you in closer. It was times like these when you wish you could use your quirk, but the electronic cuffs on your wrists prevent you from doing so. They wouldn’t be this touchy without them then.

“How come you’re so quiet today? Bakugo didn’t do anything mean to you, did he?” she asks, petting your hair.

“No, I’m just…tired,” you say lamely, fingers running over the restraints. Tired from the drugs still wearing off as well as being passed around from place to place like a toy.

“In that case, maybe you should take a nap,” Sero suggests, moving to pull you away from Ashido, but she only puffs out her cheeks and cuddles you even closer.

“What? But they just got here! We were gonna do a bunch of fun stuff together!”

“Yeah!” Kaminari chimes in. “Who wants to take a boring nap when you could be hanging out with us, (Name)!”

“We shouldn’t strain them too much,” Sero chided the two, who were clinging on to you for dear life. “They still haven’t fully healed from their accident, so they need as much rest as they can get. You want them to feel better, don’t you?”

Kaminari and Ashido share a guilty look, though if they were being honest, they would say no, they don’t want you to get better. They like having you rely on them, too exhausted or in pain to push them away. It makes them feel like you actually need them. But they release you anyway, knowing they had all of this week and next to cuddle and play with you to their heart’s content.

You move to stand up from the couch, but Sero stops you, taking you into his arms instead. He always insisted on carrying you to and fro, even though you could walk just fine. He said it was so you wouldn’t risk hurting your leg anymore, but really it was just an excuse to hold you close, away from the others. He was no better than Kaminari and Ashido, but at least he could understand when you needed space.

Sero sets you down in your bed, in the bedroom the three had pitched in to decorate to make you feel “at home”. It was nothing but an eyesore; you could definitely tell who decorated what as their design choices heavily clash with each other’s. If you were still friends with them and weren’t being held against your will, you would find it comical. But now you can’t help but hate having to sleep here.

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time for dinner.” Sero tucks you in under the covers. Kissing you on the forehead, he wishes you sweet dreams before turning the lights off, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You sigh in relief when he was finally gone. It was rare to have time to yourself these days; it seemed like someone was always breathing down your shoulder. Pushing back the blankets, you kick your legs out so they are hanging over the side of the bed, stretching your arms out at the same time until you hear a satisfying pop in your shoulders. Your hand came to rest over the knee brace that was strapped to your right leg, causing you to frown.

You had injured it real bad about five months ago while on the job. It was during an important mission, one that the agency you worked at had been preparing for for weeks. They had teamed up with heroes all over the country for it, and your old friends just so happened to be part of the agencies that were asked to help. You hadn’t seen them in forever until that point, not since graduation before you moved away. They were overjoyed to see you again, but you felt awkward and kept your distance. You were only working together because that’s what your job called for. You needed to remain professional and not let past events distract you from performing at your best.

The mission went awry fast. The building you were in was collapsing, heavy rubble and debris falling around you without any mercy. Loud blasts bounced off the walls as you ran to find an exit, just narrowly missing the chunks of concrete dropping from above you. You were almost out, as you could see Kirishima up ahead, who was helping everyone else evacuate. Escape was just within reach.

That was, until, you heard a particularly deafening blast that sounded too close for comfort. The last thing you remember was Kirishima, or maybe it was Bakugo, shouting, “(Name)! Watch out!”

 It was explained to you later, when you woke up in the hospital, that you had been crushed by the falling debris. Luckily, you didn’t sustain any fatal injuries, but the accident cost you the functionality of your right leg. It took a long while for it to heal, and even now, you’re not supposed to be straining it too much. After being released, you took a break from hero work for a while, your boss insisting that you don’t push yourself too hard. 

You never got to return to your job, however, because Bakugo and his group stole you away before you could even realize what had happened.

Standing up from the bed, you dig around in the desk’s drawer, pulling out a small metal tool you had pocketed some time ago. You supposed that’s what the breaking point for them was. Seeing you in such bad shape was like a switch went off in them, and they decided to kidnap you the minute you left the hospital.

Sitting back down on the bed, you get to work with the little tool. It was wishful thinking, but you thought you would be able to pry the cuffs off by sticking the tool into the seam where they locked. Then you would be one step closer to escaping this prison.

You were so preoccupied with the task at hand, you didn’t notice that the door to your bedroom was being unlocked. Light floods into the room, causing you to panic as you quickly chuck the metal tool to the floor. You fumble with the covers, trying to get back under them and pretend you were asleep, but you just aren’t fast enough.

Kaminari was the one who had opened the door, coming in to check on you. He gives you a quizzical look, eyebrow raising as he takes in your flustered state. Walking over to where you had thrown the tool, he picks it up to inspect it. His lips form into a sad smile and there’s hurt evident in his eyes.

“Naughty (Name). Were you trying to escape? I thought we were past this,” Kaminari says, waggling the tool between his fingers. He stuffs it into his pocket before continuing, “Don’t we make you happy? Don’t we take such good care of you?”

You scoff at that and give the blond your nastiest glare, uttering, “Happy? You can’t be serious. How could I be happy when I’m being forced to stay with you all? If you really cared about me, you’d let me leave.”

“That’s not true! It’s because we care about you is why we’re doing this,” Kaminari’s voice raised, but returned to a calm tone when he saw you flinch. “Look, it’s not that we don’t think you’re an awesome hero and can handle your own, but we were super sad when you moved away after graduation. Without a word, no less! And when we finally got to see you again, it felt like you wanted nothing to do with us…” His gaze trailed down to your knee, and he perked up. “But then the perfect opportunity to rekindle our relationship came! You got hurt and you needed capable and responsible caretakers to make sure you returned to being in perfect health!”

“Yeah, and I’m basically completely healed now, so there’s no reason to keep me here,” you pointed out, but Kaminari shook his head.

“You’re still in pain. We just got you back and we can’t risk you getting hurt again.”

There was no point in arguing. You’ve lost count of how many times this conversation has been had. As frustrating as it was, it always ended up going in circles. You know that the real reason was more than just wanting to protect you. They wanted to keep you for themselves. To claim you as theirs.

Kaminari comes over to pet you on the head, which only results in you smacking his hand away. He retorts by grabbing your wrist, making sure his grip is firm so you can’t pull away. You try to yank against his hold even though you know it was useless, glowering up at the man. 

“Let go, Kaminari. Just let me get back to my nap.”

“For someone who’s about to be punished, I’d be more careful with the attitude.”

Before you could process his words, a sharp, white hot burning sensation zaps through you. You cry out in pain as it feels like you were being pierced all over your body, and you beg Kaminari to stop. It only lasts for a few seconds, but it felt like hours had gone by when he finally lets go. 

The door slams open then, a concerned and frantic Sero and Ashido rushing in to survey the scene. It doesn’t take long to realize what had happened, and the two immediately come over to either side of you to help you calm down. Ashido glares at Kaminari as she pulls you into her chest.

“Kaminari, you always go too far with your punishments! You don’t have to shock them so badly!”

Sero rubs your back, giving the blond an exasperated look. “Seriously, dude, you need to hold back sometimes.”

“They were trying to escape! Look-“ Kaminari pulls out the metal tool you were using before and shows it to them. “They were trying to break their cuffs off with this. Not that it had any chance of working, but still!”

A wave of disappointment instills in Sero and Ashido, upset that you would want to get away from them. They could discuss this matter later, though. Right now, they need to make sure you are okay.

Kaminari sighs after a few beats of silence, nothing but your sniffles filling the room. He scratches the back of his neck, saying, “Sorry, (Name). I shouldn’t have used that much force. But I want you to understand that we’re doing what we know is best for you.”

They’re such hypocrites, all of them. How can they say they only want to protect you when they think punishing you is the right thing? When all you want is to be free? You can’t even look at them, not caring for what half-assed apologies they have to say.

The only thing that has your attention now are the flickering lights on your quirk-canceling cuffs. It was as if they too were affected by the electric shock, and any more voltage would cause them to malfunction. You stare at the cuffs in wonder, tuning out what the others were saying until Bakugo’s name was mentioned.

“Should we tell Bakugo about this? You know how he likes to be kept in the loop about any escape attempts,” Kaminari says.

Sero glances over at you, looking into your wide, pleading eyes. The last thing you want is to deal with an angry Bakugo yelling at you for the hundredth time. And frankly, Sero doesn’t want that either, because he would get an earful too.

“Nah, it’s not that big of a deal,” Sero sighs. “We’ll just have to keep a closer eye on them.”

“You must be hungry, huh, (Name)?” Ashido cooes. “That’s why you’re feeling antsy, right? Well, lucky for you, dinner’s ready! Let’s go eat!”

She lifts you to your feet and drags you out the door, Kaminari and Sero following right behind. You can hardly focus on the aroma coming from the kitchen or what they are even babbling about, though. No, the only thing on your mind is concocting a plan on how to get out of here. How to get away from all of them. And you have an inkling of an idea where to start.

* * *

Two grueling weeks went by and they were nothing short of insufferable. You’ve been pulled and poked and squished and smooched more times than you could count, and by the end of it all, you were exhausted. You actually felt relieved when you succumbed to the drug-induced slumber after you ate the meal they prepared for you. The next time you would see them again would only be in about a month, which was just enough time to prepare for your escape plan.

You’d be spending the next couple of weeks at Jiro’s place, a nice little home just on the outskirts of the inner city. You found her to be the most tolerable out of the gang,

as she was fairly laid-back and not super clingy. You did still have to be chained up for most of your time there, since Jiro lived alone and there was no one to watch over you while she was at work, but she made sure the chain was long enough for you to walk around the room and use the bathroom. She refused to use security cameras, saying that you deserved at least some semblance of privacy, though the rest of the house’s security was top-notch. 

Jiro is accommodating, but a captor is still a captor.

“I was thinking of getting takeout for dinner tonight. What are you in the mood for?” the young hero asks, fluffing up the pillows to make sure you were as comfortable as you could be in the bed you are shackled to.

You shrug, muttering, “Anything’s fine.”

It’s an apathetic response, one that you are used to giving by now. Jiro wishes you would show at least a little more enthusiasm these days; she remembers how big and bright your smile used to be, how contagious your laugh was. But she knows that what they’ve done to you is unforgivable and it would take a long while for you to come around and see why it was better this way. You just need more time to warm up to them.

Jiro pats your head and urges you to lie down, which you do so begrudgingly. She heads towards the door to leave, but stops when she remembers something, saying, “Oh yeah! I finished writing that new song I’ve been working on, and I want you to be the first one to hear it. How ‘bout I play it for you when I get back?”

“Sure. Can’t wait.” You give her the best smile you could muster, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Jiro’s grin droops at the lackluster response, nodding and closing your bedroom door behind her. You used to love hearing her play, the way you would stare at her in awe as she made the sweetest melodies with her instruments never failed to give her butterflies. You praised her when she was finished, insisting that she play more for you. You’re so amazing, Kyouka! Do you mind playing it again for me? Jiro was always happy to comply, wanting to keep that adorable look on your face.

Sometimes she wondered if this really was the right move, if keeping you here with them was for your own good.

But then the image of you in the hospital bed would appear in her mind; you looked so damaged and vulnerable, it scared her to see you in such a state. Jiro, along with the others, decided that they never wanted to see you in such pain again.

You remain in bed until you are sure Jiro has left the house, the sound of the multiple locks on the door being shut confirming you are now truly alone. Being mindful of your leg while hopping out of bed, you waste no time in raiding the bathroom for supplies. 

You only take what you consider strictly essential. There were enough of the items stocked that Jiro wouldn’t notice they were missing, so you take as much as you could get away with. You stuff them into the small bag you were allowed to bring with you to and from their different homes, organizing it all so it would fit nicely in there. There is a small stash of money in there too, cash you had stolen from Kaminari and Ashido’s wallets. You hadn’t taken a lot, so you didn’t think they would even realize it was gone.

The next thing you pack is a change of clothes. Jiro primarily bought you casual and comfortable clothes to wear, a contrast to the cutesy and tight clothing Ashido, Kaminari, and Bakugo insisted you wear while you stayed with them. You stuff a few pieces of clothing in your bag before zipping it up and stowing it away. You wish you could bring more, but there is only so much you can fit in there without raising suspicion.

You return to your bed, the clanking of metal against the bedpost grating against your ears. The escape plan you had been brewing since Kaminari’s punishment plays on repeat in your head, and you mentally check off the boxes on your to-do list. You feel exhausted even though you barely moved around, so you took this chance to get some sleep while the desire of freedom dances around in your mind.

* * *

You sit crushed between the two massive men who are watching your favorite TV show with you, though you can hardly focus on what is happening on screen. It feels like Bakugo and Kirishima are trying to become one with you, cuddling you so close, you barely have any room to breathe. Whenever you try to move or push against them, they just hold on tighter. 

Looks like you are going to have to play the leg card.

You pretend to hiss in pain, as if one of them had hit your knee with too much force. The two immediately turn their attention towards you, concern written over their faces.

“Sorry! Are you okay, sweetheart? Are you in pain?” Kirishima worriedly asks, removing himself from you to scan over your body. 

You sit up and shake your head, relieved that they finally let go. “No, it’s fine. My leg just hurt for a second.”

“We should get ready for bed, anyway,” Bakugo says, turning off the TV. “It’s getting late.”

Of course, “late” is really just 9 PM, but you don’t feel like arguing. As much as you hate it, what Bakugo says goes. If he says it’s bedtime, it’s bedtime.

You weren’t granted your own bedroom in Bakugo and Kirishima’s house like you were in the others’. The three of you share one massive room, with one giant bed that fits all of you comfortably. Well, comfortably for them. You hate being spooned by them while you’re just trying to sleep.

Already dressed in your pajamas, you sit on the bed and wait for the two men to be done brushing their teeth. Your eyes drift to your bag that is slumped against the wall, and you are so grateful that they never bother to check what’s in there. Usually, you just brought books and comfort items with you, since they provided everything else you might need at each of their homes. You had to sacrifice that stuff, however, in favor of being able to fit your essentials in there.

There isn’t much escape preparation to do while you stay with Bakugo and Kirishima. There are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like you can steal their cash or pack supplies without being caught. The only thing you can do is wait until these two weeks are up and pretend like everything is normal. You have to behave well enough in order to not get punished, but not too well, or they’d get suspicious of your sudden change of heart.

You roll over to the farthest side of the bed, eliciting an annoyed huff from Bakugo. You know you’re supposed to sleep in the middle, so he doesn’t get why you insist on playing this game every night.

He grabs hold of your waist and tugs, trying to get you to move over. You don’t budge, though, hands gripping onto the side of the mattress for dear life. You groan, kicking at Bakugo to make him let go.

“Ugh, Bakugo, just let me sleep here for the night! Canoodle with Kirishima for a change,” you mutter, feeling your grip loosen.

“Stop being so stubborn! C’mon, do you really have to do this every time?” The blond yanks you back to be in the middle of the bed, his arms wrapping around you so you can’t move away again.

Kirishima lies down on the other side, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek in an attempt to calm your struggling. He says in a low and tired voice, “Let’s go to sleep now, baby. It’s been a long day and I’m sure you’re just as tired as we are.”

You can’t stand the way they look at you, as if they just see a weak and helpless child that needs to be taken care of. You are just as competent as them, dammit! One injury doesn’t change anything.

As you finally settle down for the night and your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, you think about how they used to treat you back in U.A. They had always thought of you as weak, didn’t they? It was the whole reason you decided to distance yourself from them in the first place.

The bed is already empty by the time you woke up, meaning Kirishima and Bakugo must have both gone to work today. Which means…

Sure enough, a metal cuff was clasped around your ankle and locked to the bedpost. You sigh, giving a useless tug against the chain before letting your leg fall back down onto the mattress. Looks like you’ll be stuck in bed for the rest of the day, at least until the two come home.

You feel so powerless. So…pathetic, like you were proving everything they thought about you right. You’re not some house pet they can keep to themselves; you have a life to get back to. There’s so much you haven’t accomplished yet, and you aren’t going to let them make any more decisions for you. 

You’ll escape during your next visit to Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido’s place. No matter what.

* * *

You can barely process what’s playing on the TV as your leg bounces up and down while you sit on the couch. You mentally rehearse the escape plan you’ve been brewing for weeks in your head, today being a better time than ever to act. Sero and Ashido both left for work this morning, leaving just you and Kaminari alone for the day. All you have to do is piss him off enough for him to shock you and cause your cuffs to malfunction.

A small, black box is thrust in your face, breaking you out of your thoughts. Your eyes follow up the arm holding the box only to be met with an ecstatic and dopey smile on Kaminari’s face. 

“Look, buttercup! I gotcha something!” He plops down next to you, so close your shoulders are touching, and places the box in your lap. “Go ahead and open it up!”

Tentatively, you flip open the lid, revealing a gorgeous gold necklace with a black pendant. It sparkles in the light and looks like it cost quite a pretty penny, however, such an expensive gift did little to impress you. Kaminari was always trying to win you over with lavish presents and commodities, but materialistic things could not distract you from what you really wanted.

“Wow, Kaminari. It’s really…something, but you know I’m not a jewelry person,” you say, handing the necklace back to him.

He frowns, clearly upset that you would refuse a gift from him. He pushes the necklace back into your hands, saying, “But I had it specially made for you! I know it’ll look so pretty, just put it on!”

You are getting annoyed now, but then it hits you. This is the perfect opportunity to make Kaminari punish you. You just have to push the right buttons.

“I said I don’t want it, so just drop it already!” you shout, throwing the necklace back at him.

Kaminari bristles at the way you raise your voice. “Well, somebody’s in a bad mood today. Most people would say thank you, ya know.” He moves to wrap his arm around your shoulders. “What’s wrong, buttercup?”

You smack him away, standing up from the couch. “Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so irritating, I can’t help but want to rip my own ears off! Or maybe it’s because I’m being held here against my will, surrounded by people, who I thought were supposed to be my friends, treating me like I’m some weakling who can’t take care of themselves!”

“We’ve already been over this, (Name),” he sighs, exasperated. “Can’t you just let us care for you? That’s all we really want to do!”

“No, all you guys want is to keep me for yourselves. You have this twisted obsession with me and what you’re doing is unforgivable!”

“Stop that! It’s not twisted! It’s…we just…love you, (Name). Don’t you love us too?”

You scoff and give Kaminari a look of utter disdain as you spit your next words, “I hate it here, and I hate all of you.”

A mixture of hurt, anger, and guilt flash across Kaminari’s face, but you don’t feel bad for him. He’s silent for a moment as he stands in front of you, head cast down and fists balled at his side.

“You…you don’t mean that. You’re just saying that because you’re mad,” he murmurs. Looking up to meet your eyes, Kaminari shoots a glare at you, electricity starting to spark around his hands. A warning. 

“Take it back,” he says with force, taking a step towards you.

You back up out of habit and you can feel yourself trembling, but you know the incoming pain will be worth it in the end. All that was left was the final blow.

“No, I won’t. I can’t take back the truth.”

Fast as lightning, Kaminari grabs hold of your arm, and you shut your eyes tight in nervous anticipation. The same searing sensation you felt last time runs through your body as he releases his volts. You cry out as your muscles contract, and you feel like you are on fire, but you fight through the pain.

You must have really pissed Kaminari off, because he doesn’t let up until you are nearing unconsciousness. When he finally releases you, you gasp as you fall back onto the couch. Sucking in deep breaths, you weakly check your wrists, heart fluttering in excitement and nervous relief to see that the quirk-canceling cuffs are fizzing out. The lights slowly fade out and an unlocking mechanism can be heard from within. You rejoice at how free your wrists feel when they finally come undone.

“...Oh- Oh shit- No, WAIT-” Kaminari panics at seeing your restraints come loose, and he was about to release another shock before you can get back up, but you are too fast. With the remaining strength you have, you leap towards Kaminari, planting your hand right on his bare arm.

“You know what? You’re right.” You smirk as you remember his earlier words. “Thank you, Kaminari. Really.”

You activate your quirk, cutting the man’s response off. Your head feels light and you shut your eyes tight, a dizzying yet exhilarating feeling running through your veins. When you open your eyes, you are standing in Kaminari’s place, your own body now slumped on the floor.

Possession. That is the name of the quirk you’ve worked so hard to develop and strengthen over the years. Once you touch someone’s bare skin with your hands, you can possess their body for exactly ten minutes, and they’ll have no memory of what happened during that time. Unfortunately, your own body falls unconscious while you’re possessing someone.

It feels good to use your quirk again, and even better when you can no longer feel any pain in your leg. You can put as much pressure as you want on it; such a shame this feeling will only last for a few minutes.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you get straight to work. You disable all the security measures in the apartment by using Kaminari’s face and fingerprint scans. Then you dig around in his wallet and room for any spare cash he has lying around so you can store it along with the money you’ve been saving up until now. 

You know better than to take his credit card. It’d be like a direct beam to your location if you were to use it, so you leave it be.

You throw your backpack onto the couch next to where your body lies, and your eyes land on the forgotten necklace you had initially refused. Picking it up, you turn it around in your hands, thumb rubbing the pendant absentmindedly. I wonder how much I can sell this for, you think, deciding to keep it in case you need some extra cash.

With everything packed and ready to go, you checked the time. Four minutes left.

It takes a few minutes for the person you possess to wake up after you return to your body, but you need to tie Kaminari up to give you more of a head start. You chain him to his own bed, using the restraints they had no problem using on you whenever you “misbehaved”.

Tapping your foot against the floor, you watch the last remaining seconds tick by, waiting for your consciousness to return to your own body and finally escape this nightmare.

* * *

“Denki! Wake the hell up already!”

“H-Huh?” Kaminari woke up with a start, jerking his head side to side to assess his surroundings. “Wha- What happened? Why am I…chained up?” he slurs.

Sero pinches the bridge of his nose; he can already feel his patience running thin. But before he can get another word out, Ashido interjects.

“Where are they, Denki?! They’re- (Name)’s not here! They’re gone, where did they go?!” She’s hysterical, shaking the blond’s shoulders as tears threaten to trickle down her cheeks.

“Wait…what? (Name)’s…missing? But-” Then it comes back to him. The necklace. Your outburst. His punishment. The cuffs coming off. 

Shit…shit, SHIT!

“No, no, they escaped!” Kaminari shouts, yanking against the chains. “I- Fuck, it’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have punished them like that!”

Sero bends down to release Kaminari from the bedpost, sighing. “Well, it’s too late to feel sorry. We need to find them immediately.”

“Oh, (Name),” Ashido sniffles. “What were they thinking? They could injure themselves again!”

“We won’t let that happen,” Sero reassures her, and he pulls out his phone to call Bakugo, Kirishima, and Jiro. “They couldn’t have gotten far. With all of us looking for them, they have no chance.”

The other three get to their apartment in a matter of minutes once the situation was explained. As expected, Bakugo is severely pissed off.

“YOU IDIOT!” he yells, grabbing Kaminari by the collar. “Of course they would escape under your supervision! Why the fuck would you ever shock them that hard in the first place? Think before ya act, moron!”

“Chill, Bakugo!” Kirishima says, pulling his friend back. “There’s no use in getting upset and arguing about it!”

“Kirishima’s right,” Jiro butts in, arms folding across her chest. “We need to come up with a plan and start searching for them, before it’s too late.”

Bakugo glares at them, before huffing and letting Kaminari go. “Their leg’s still out of shape, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find ‘em and bring ‘em back here. We should split up and-”

“I don’t think there’s any need for that,” Kaminari interrupts, pulling out his phone. “I think I’ve got a surefire way of finding where they could be.”

* * *

Keep moving. Don’t stop. 

You’ve just gotta keep going until you feel secure enough to rest somewhere. Once you’re a few cities away, you’ll consider hunkering down in some shabby hotel.

Skyscrapers and apartment buildings whiz past you as you blankly stare out the train’s window. You clutch your bag to your chest as your leg bounces up and down, all a feeble attempt to calm your racing heart. It’s been a whole hour since you escaped, and you are sure the entire squad was out looking for you by now. You can only imagine how angry they must be… How angry they will be when- no, if they find you.

Going to the police was out of the option. Who would believe the top heroes of the country have been holding someone hostage for the past five months? Besides, there was a chance the squad called ahead and made up some lie that would work in their favor.

Seeking help from family was a no-go too. Get them involved and they could be hurt or worse. Your only option is to just keep running.

You get off after another hour or so, as you are getting tired and need a place to stay for the night. Exiting the train, your leg dully throbs, but that’s the least of your worries. Now, it’s about deciding on what inconspicuous hotel would keep you safe.

The place you go with is a ways off from the main road, with a large forest surrounding it. The hotel looks slightly rundown, but it would have to do. You are given a room on the first floor, and upon entering it, you let out a silent sigh of relief at seeing it wasn’t a complete mess inside.

After drawing the blinds, you flop down on the bed, completely exhausted. You would like to take a well-deserved nap, but the anxiety of being caught won’t let you. You can only stare at the stained popcorn ceiling and listen to the rattling of the air conditioner.

A knock at the door breaks you out of your thoughts.

Somehow, you already know who it is without even having to check.

“Oi! (Name)! Get out here!”

You can’t even bring yourself to stand up, only being able to stare at the wooden door that separates you from the six of them.

Shit, how did they get here so fast? They couldn’t have known you’d come to this specific hotel… Have they been following you this whole time? Just toying with you… Making you think you actually had a chance at escaping?

“Bakugo, shut up! I’m trying to listen,” another voice says, this one sounding like Jiro. “…It’s definitely them in there. I can hear their breathing.”

“It’ll be okay, sweetie, we’re coming to get you!” That was Ashido. “Stand back, I’m gonna melt the door down!”

You spring up in a panic, whirling around to find another exit. You won’t let yourself be captured so soon. You haven’t even been out for a whole day yet!

Ripping the blinds open, you survey your surroundings, seeing nothing but forestry out the window. The thought of running through the unstable and root-covered ground made your leg throb, but did you really have any other choice? It’s either risking more injury to yourself or continuing to be the Bakusquad’s darling captive.

You know which is the better option.

Snapping off the window lock, you hop out of the hotel room and make a sprint towards the woods. Maybe if you run far enough and in different directions, you can shake them off your trail. Running hurts more than anything, but you refuse to let up. The distant sounds of explosions make you pump your legs and arms harder.

Jiro stops right at the forest’s edge, plugging her ear jacks into the ground. The others stop and wait with baited breath as she listens intently. She can hear your footsteps pounding against the ground, the crunching of the leaves and twigs under your feet, down to your labored breaths. With all of this, she can pinpoint exactly where you are.

“They went this way,” Jiro says, pointing in your direction with confidence and determination swirling in her gaze.

Without a second to spare, the six of them speed off to pursue you. Ashido slides over the ground using her acid, Sero uses the trees to his advantage to swing through them with his tape, Bakugo keeps up with his blasts propelling him through the air, and Kaminari, Kirishima, and Jiro continue on foot. Getting you back is the one thing on their mind. They will never let you slip away again.

You jump over a root sticking out of the ground, keeping your pace all the while. You ignore their calls for you as you leap over a small stream. Don’t look back. Just keep going.

Sero’s tape whizzes past you and you flinch, stepping out of the way so you don’t get caught in it. Shit, they’re already in range? You’re not sure your injured leg can take much more strain.

To your left, the faint sound of Ashido and her acid moving her rapidly through the forest hits your ears. She desperately calls out to you, saying, “(Name), stop! You’ll hurt yourself if you keep running!”

Kirishima’s voice sounds farther away, but you can still hear him loud and clear. “She’s right! We just want you to be safe!”

Yeah, right. Their pleads go ignored as you make a sharp turn and change directions. Safe, my ass. They’re the ones actively chasing me through the woods.

You reach a steep ledge then, with no other way around but to climb down. Not even giving it a second thought, you drop to the ground and carefully place one foot on a sturdy enough rock. You’re making good progress going down, and you’re pretty sure you even shook off your pursuers for the time being. Everything is going all well and good, until…

Your foot slips.

Unable to regain your hold on the rock, you fall the rest of the way down, your back crashing hard to the ground. You internally panic as your vision grows blurry, and everything eventually fades to black.

* * *

You awake to someone petting your hair and whispering something you couldn’t quite make out. Tufts of pink hair let you know it was Ashido, and you realize that you’re now sitting in her lap while the both of you are leaning against a tree. You try to move away from her, but find that you’ve been restrained by Sero’s tape. It completely wrapped around your torso, tying your arms in a way you wouldn’t be able to use them.

“Ah, guys! They’re up!” Ashido exclaims, drawing the attention of your other five captors. Kaminari immediately drops to your side to pull you into a hug.

“Shit, you had me worried sick, babe! You’ve got a real knack for giving other people heart attacks, you know that?” He cries, his tears soaking your shoulder.

Sero and Jiro kneel down to gently pry Kaminari off of you, before hugging you themselves.

“You can’t just run off like that, (Name). Are you trying to permanently damage your leg?” Sero lightly scolds.

“We’re just happy we were able to find you quickly. Who knows what would have happened if we didn’t,” Jiro says.

“...How did you find me so fast? I chose the most random hotel… How’d you know I was there?” you ask, almost afraid to know the answer.

Kaminari pulls out his phone, showing you an app displaying a map of the city. A red dot was blinking where the hotel was located.

A tracker.

“After that escape attempt you had a while back, I got paranoid and made sure that necklace I gave you doubled as a tracking device.” He grins and ruffles your hair. “You said you didn’t want it, but ended up taking it with you anyway. Good thing, too.”

No…  All I had to do was just leave that stupid necklace behind and I might have been free by now?! 

You want to scream. To break out of your bindings and throw Kaminari off of that ledge. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair! Why do they get to be happy while you suffer under their controlling and suffocating behavior?

Kirishima notices the dark look in your eyes, the absolute hatred that’s coursing through your veins. He extends a tentative hand out to touch your shoulder, asking, “(Name)… Are you okay?”

“OF COURSE I’M FUCKING NOT!” you snap, baring your teeth at the redhead. He retracts his hand, hurt flashing over his features. You continue your outburst.

“I am so sick and tired of all your guys’ bullshit! You are all INSANE and need help if you actually think keeping me trapped in your homes is going to help me get better! It’s doing the opposite and making me feel WORSE. So if you really care about me, love me, and want to see me actually happy, I suggest you forget you ever knew me and let. Me. Go.”

Everyone is silent for a moment while you catch your breath. You think you put at least some sense into their heads, until Kirishima spoke up again.

“You know… I think about your accident every single day,” he starts, fists clenched. “Do you know how horrifying it was to watch you be crushed? I just can’t get over it… You were right in front of me, but I still couldn’t save you in time. Even now, I couldn’t stop you from running away and falling off a cliff.” He pauses to make direct eye contact with you. “I need you with me, (Name). What if the next accident is fatal? What will I do then? I can’t live without you. None of us can.”

You want to spit at that shitty reasoning, but Bakugo piping up drew your attention towards him.

“From now on, we won’t let your clumsy ass out of our sight. I’ll make sure of it,” the blond grunted, kneeling down and grabbing hold of your left leg. The one that’s still completely functional.

You try to kick him away and squirm out of his grip, but Ashido and Kaminari tighten their hold on you. “Wha-What are you doing?” Kirishima, Sero, and Jiro grimace at the fear in your voice.

All it takes is a clean snap of the bone for you to lose all hope of freedom.

You scream in agony, bile stinging your throat from the way your leg now bends at an unnatural angle. The others’ hushed words of reassurance do nothing to comfort you as Bakugo stands up. His expression almost appears pained, but he is not regretful.

“It’ll heal, as long as you don’t do any more stupid things. We’ll just have to care for you all over again.” He motioned for Kirishima to pick you up and start bringing you back to their home.

And the intense pain coursing through your body almost had you looking forward to their care.

[babydollmarauders]

THE START OF IT ALL — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: how jack and y/n (lovie) met, through the grace of quinn

warnings: bad parental guidance, small mention of body insecurities and anxiety. (4k words)

notes: a well overdue fic! i’m so thankful to you guys for being patient with me as i navigate writing in my hectic new reality of college and working full time! <3

goosebumps trail my exposed skin, the chilling air of the practice rink nipping from my lack of sweater.

the sound of skates scraping against the ice rings in my ears, mingling with the bangs of sticks hitting against pucks and creating an oddly peaceful soundtrack for my meditation.

my feet are killing me.

capezio tights stretch across my legs, making them shimmer in the fluorescent lighting of the rink, and a black leotard hugs my body, neatly pulled together with a pink wrap skirt. ballet flats adorn my feet, my pointe shoes laying idly in my dance bag in the seat beside me as i watch the national development team practice.

it feels like so long ago that i came and watched my first practice; the one fateful day of september seeming light years away now. but in reality it was only a mere couple months ago that a group of us dance girls had decided to walk down the block and watch a practice.

Natalie and Thalia wanted to check out the guys, and me? i just didn’t want to be left out. but then watching one practice turned into watching two, and then three, and before i knew it, it became a regular occurrence. it didn’t matter anymore that the girls lost interest and no longer tagged along, in fact, i enjoyed the time spent alone.

this became my safe haven; no dance partners to critique my fouettés, no parents whispering in my ear that i’m not doing well enough in school or that i’m not practicing my dances enough or that i need to go on a diet because i don’t look as pristine or perfect in my leotard as the other girls do. just me and the sounds of several sixteen year old boys whipping pucks into the net and gliding around the ice.

as the piercing sound of a whistle slices through my peace, i know that afternoon practice has ended, my serene escape over until tomorrow.

as the team shuffles off the ice and back into their locker room, i revel in the silence for a little while, taking the moment to change from my flats to sneakers; the twenty-seven minute trek home will be a lot more terrain than the five minute one from the ballet studio to the rink, and a lot harder on my shoes.

pushing up from my seat, my hand wraps around the strap of my dance bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i slide through the rows of seats. my feet squeak against the cement steps, two at a time until i reach the exit floor.

pushing through the glass doors, i slip out into the crisp November air, ducking my head as i walk past a group of players that stand around their cars after practice, hair damp from post-practice showers. a few more players can be heard slamming the doors of their cars, obviously in much more of a rush to get home than their teammates.

it only takes five minutes of walking for me to become paranoid, a black GMC following behind me with every turn i make. my heart stutters with anxiety, my pace speeding as i attempt to shake the fear that rakes my body.

but as i speed up, so does the car, until finally the drivers window rolls down as they drive at a pace similar to my walking speed. inside is a teenage boy, a familiar face that i know i’ve seen on the ice of the usntdp rink.

“hey, you watch our practices.” it’s a statement, he knows i do, i assume a lot of them know. it’s kind of hard to miss the thirteen year old girl sitting alone in the stands every afternoon.

i stop, turning towards the boy as i nod in response.

“i always see you walking home, do you want a ride?” he asks before his eyes widen, stumbling over words, “wait, i just realized how that sounds— i’m not trying to kidnap you, i swear! you just live a few houses down, i figured i’d save you some time.”

i’m aware that my answer might be stupid and not very well thought out, but in this moment, i truthfully don’t care— the boy seems trustworthy, an odd sense of warmth radiating from him, so i nod again.

“yes, please.”

his head nods in the direction of the passengers side, unlocking the doors as he tells me to hop in; and i do so, slipping into the seat and hastily pulling the seatbelt across my body.

“i’m Quinn,” he introduces, a hand held out in front of me, “i play for the national development team.”

“i know,” i hum out, shaking his hand, “i’m y/n.”

Quinn steps lightly on the gas pedal, continuing the route to our apparently shared street.

“so, why do you come to the practices?” he questions, and though the question itself sounds a little judgy, his tone is soft, “at first i assumed maybe you were a sister, but then i’ve never seen you with any of the guys.”

i watch as the trees pass by in a blur through the window, my hands fidgeting with the strap of my dance bag that sits on the floor between my feet.

“it’s peaceful.” i confess, making him throw me a lopsided smirk mixed in with furrowed brows, “i don’t really get along with any of the girls in my ballet class, and my parents don’t get home from work until dinner time. its nice to just kill some time and listen to the sounds of the skates on the ice and the pucks hitting the net.”

Quinn hums as though he understands me, and for once, it actually feels like someone does. we’ve barely spoken to each other, we’ve only just met, but for once in my life, i feel as though someone isn’t judging me or about to tell me what i could do better.

“i get it.” he shrugs, “so, have you been a hockey fan, or are you just a little oddball and like the sounds?”

a small smile spreads across my lips, a laugh escaping at his joke, and Quinn garners an appearance of pride at making me laugh. his chest puffs out just slightly, his posture straightening and a smirk resting on his lips.

“i am,” i nod, before i realize i should clarify, “a hockey fan. i’m a hockey fan.”

it’s Quinn’s turn to chuckle now, eyes flickering towards me before they settle back on the road ahead, “but i get the feeling you are a little oddball, aren’t you? or at least maybe some other people think so.”

the vibe in the car turns stony, my body tensing.

“yeah,” i drop my eyes to my hands, finding great interest in the dirtied white color of my bag strap, “i prefer to keep to myself, you know? it feels like all everyone tells me is how i can do better. how i can perfect my dances, or how i’m so pretty but i would be so much prettier if i did this or that, or how despite straight A’s and a 4.0 GPA, there’s more i could do to get into a stupid ivy league that i don’t wanna go to-”

i suck in a deep breath, cutting off my rambles prematurely, because here i was dumping all my insecurities and problems on a boy three years my senior and who i’ve only just met.

“i’m sorry, those are some shitty people.” Quinn frowns, a hand tightening just slightly around the steering wheel.

“that was all my parents.”

“fuck,” he curses, glancing over at me quickly with wide eyes as we turn onto our street, “your parents said all that?”

i shrug, nodding my head, “it’s what a parent does, right? they criticize you to be the best you can be. the girls in dance aren’t much better.”

Quinn parks the car in front of what i assume is his billet house, turning in his seat to face me properly.

“a parent should guide you to be the best version of yourself, not criticize you until you become the person they want you to be.”

his words repeat in my head, my brows threading together as i hum in acknowledgment of his statement.

rather than truly respond, i unbuckle my seatbelt, pushing the door open as i gather my bag from the floor.

“thank you for the ride, Quinn. sorry for dumping all my problems on you.”

i don’t give him a chance to respond, hopping out of the car and slinging my bag over my shoulder as i shut the door.

i’m only one house away when i hear him yell, “hey! same time tomorrow?”

i spin around confused, finding him standing next to the car with his hockey bag slung over his own shoulder.

“what?”

“same time tomorrow! i’ll drive you home!” he smiles gently, before giving a small wave and heading into his house.

what the fuck just happened? did i just make a new friend?

***

my entire body aches, my toes in particular feeling incredibly sore due to the bruised skin that covers them, but i push through.

only a week until the spring performance and i still don’t feel that my solo is where it should be. my pointe shoes make my toes prick with pain, but over time, the pain turns into a stinging numbness.

my reflection stares back at me in the mirrored wall, a frustrated puff of air passing through my parted lips. my tutu caresses my arms as i let them fall to my sides, lowering back down to flat feet.

in the mostly empty building, i can hear the ring of the bell above the front entrance followed by muffled conversation approaching the private room i currently occupy.

i walk over to the chair that holds my things, my brows furrowing as i check the time. i still have five minutes until Quinn is due to pick me up. that gives me more than enough time to run through the solo once more.

walking over to the barre, i flex my feet a couple of times. but before i can begin to dance, i’m bombarded by the sound of conversation.

“what are we doing at a dance studio?” a male voice echoes through the building, grumbling in obvious annoyance.

“i told you, i have to pick up a friend.” i recognize that voice immediately; Quinn. my close friend of four months.

“a girlfriend?” i scrunch my nose at the other person’s question, part of me wanting to shout out that i can hear them.

“a girl that’s a friend, yeah. more like a little sister.” a heated blush rises to my cheeks, a smile spreading across my lips.

he thinks of me as a sister.

a knock sounds against the door of the private room before it creaks open, Quinn’s head popping in.

“hey, twinkle toes, you ready to go?” he smiles warmly, his eyes sparking with care as he eyes my outfit, “nice tutu.”

“you’ve seen this one before.” i giggle but it quickly dies off into a sigh as i think about how much work i still need to put into the dance, “give me one sec?”

“yeah, go for it.” he nods, “mind if i come in?”

“come on in.”

closing my eyes, i take a deep breath, tuning out the sounds of Quinn and his company entering the room. breathing out, i enter fifth position.

plié, passé relevé, back down to fifth position, my eyes open as i run through the rest of the dance, focusing on my core and watching myself in the mirror.

my sight flickers to Quinn, a smile on his face as he watches me dance, and for a moment i feel so proud of myself. but then my sights set on the boy beside him.

fluffy dirty blond hair mussed atop of his head, beauty marks dotting across his soft features, and beautiful blue eyes that watch my figure. he’s the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen.

i stutter in my steps, suddenly nervous and self conscious in front of the unfamiliar face, and before i can fix my form, i buckle under his stare; missing a step before my ankle twists, a sharp tinge of pain shooting up my leg as i stumble back down onto flat feet.

“shit.” i whimper, my facial features contorting in pain as i flex my ankle, gauging my pain level.

“are you okay?” Quinn stammers, eyes wide in concern, “what happened?”

“i’m fine,” i sigh. walking over to my bag, i pull my flats out and sit on the chair, beginning the process of taking off my pointe shoes, “i just got a little distracted.”

“distracted?” Quinn repeats, confusion plaguing his features before he looks back at his company, his lips quirking into a smirk, “y/n, this is my brother, Jack. Jack, this is y/n.”

my face heats under the heavy gaze of Jack’s blue eyes, his shoes tapping against the floor as he steps forward, extending a hand in front of me.

“hi.”

he smiles and it’s as though the whole world slowed, as though the universe was saying ‘look. look at him. perfection personified amidst your very eyes.’

“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” my hand slips into his, shaking lightly before i pull away, distracting myself by continuing my endeavors of changing my shoes.

Quinn and Jack share whispered huffs, mumbled words between the two of them as i slip my flats on, shoving my pointe shoes in my bag.

i stand now, removing my tutu and holding it carefully, leaving me in only my tights and leotard.

“i’m ready.” they both look over at me, Quinn nodding in acknowledgment before he turns and wordlessly begins walking out, leaving his brother and i to fall in line behind him.

“so how did you guys meet?” Jack asks me as we step out of the private room, his voice hushed.

“i go watch the development program practices a lot, Quinn saw me walking home and offered me a ride.”

“you like hockey?” he raises a brow as he looks over at me with a bright grin.

“mhm.” i hum, “i’ve watched it my whole life. my dad is a red wings fan.”

we exit the building, following Quinn to his car.

“good team.” Jack replies, his voice far off, eyes staring ahead as though deep in thought; and i assume that’s the end of our conversation until he speaks again, “i liked your dance. pretty.”

blood rushes to the apples of my cheeks and i bite my lip to hold back a smile, “thanks.”

i pull open the car door as Quinn unlocks it, climbing into the back seat so that Jack can sit up front with his brother. but i’m surprised when he joins me in the back, earning a look from Quinn.

it’s silent as Quinn starts the car, pulling out from the parking space and out of the lot.

“so,” Jack starts, gaining my attention once more, “you dance and you like hockey, what else should i know about you?”

i ponder the question for a moment before i look over at him, “there’s not much to tell. i’m an only child, i like taylor swift, i don’t know.”

“well what do you and your friends do for fun? do you wanna be a ballerina when you graduate?” he turns towards me, letting me know i have his full attention.

“i only have one friend.” i shrug, “Quinn. and he and i usually just hang out at his billet house or at the rink. he’s been teaching me to skate.

“as for the ballerina thing, i don’t think so. i love dancing, but i don’t want it to be my life.”

Jack hums, nodding his head in thought before his lips part again, “give me your phone.”

“what?”

“gimme your phone.” he makes a grabby hand, waiting for me to pull my phone out of my bag before i set it in his palm.

he turns it on, getting in easily with my lack of password, and quickly types something before handing it back.

“two.” he smirks.

“what?” my face punches in confusion.

“you have two friends now.” i look down at my phone, a new contact open with his number inputted in.

“okay.” i smile, not quite sure how to react to this gorgeous boy wanting to be my friend. it’s a new feeling that i’m not quite used to.

the car is silent as we pull onto Quinn and i’s street, but if i remember correctly, he’s staying at a hotel with his dad for the next couple of days.

“hey, twinkle toes.” Quinn calls out from the drivers seat.

“yeah?”

“you still coming to the game tomorrow?”

“i plan on it.” i tell him.

“alright, you’ll be sitting with my dad and Jack.” he informs me, “Jack, you good to wait for her at the entrance to take her to your guys’ seats?”

Quinn stops in front of my house, unlocking the doors.

“yeah, sure.” Jack confirms, watching as i exit the vehicle, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow!” i smile. i shut the door, Quinn’s window rolling down as he calls out a goodbye, “bye, snuggles!”

i can hear Jack snort out a laugh as i walk away, a wheezed echo of “snuggles?!” coming from the back seat.

“shut it, Rowdy.” Quinn grumbles, rolling up his window before peeling away.

***

thirty minutes.

i spent thirty long minutes picking out my outfit for tonight. when i originally said i would go to Quinn’s game, i had just planned on wearing a USA Hockey sweatshirt and some leggings; but now that i’ve met Jack and know i’ll be with him? i refused to dress down so much.

descending the stairs of my house, my mother peers over the back of the couch, her hair in a tight bun and her laptop in her lap, slaving over a law case with files piled beside her.

“what are you so dressed up for?” she inquires, her glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose.

“i have Quinn’s game tonight.” i walk around the couch to stand in front of her, my nikes shuffling along the area rug.

“i’m so proud of you.” she smiles, and for a moment i’m left to ponder where this could go, “you’re finally taking a care to how you present yourself.”

and there it is; the subtle jab. it can never be a real compliment, there’s always gonna be the underlying insult muddled in somewhere.

“are you going with friends?” she questions, her focus falling back on the open computer screen in her lap.

“kinda?” i’m not quite sure what to call Jack, he said we’re friends, but we also don’t actually know each other.

“kinda?” my mother echoes in wonder, looking back up at me as i wander into the kitchen to retrieve a water bottle.

“yeah. i met Quinn’s brother yesterday, the one a year older than me?” i start, “i’m sitting with him and their dad at the game. i don’t think i would call us friends really, but we exchanged numbers yesterday.”

my mother sighs, pushing her glasses atop of her head in order to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“does this boy play that brutal game too?”

my mind wanders back to what Quinn has told me about his family in the past, “yeah, they all do.”

“oh y/n, don’t get too wrapped up in these boys. they won’t do you any good.” she tells me, “find a nice boy, one who wants to do something substantial with his life.”

“we’re just friends, mom. it’s not like anything is gonna happen.”

“but you want it to.” she narrows her eyes, waving her finger towards me, “i can see it. mother’s intuition. don’t fall for this boy.”

who is she to tell me who i should fall for? she and dad barely even speak anymore. i wouldn’t even call what they have, love.

“it’s just going to a hockey game, mom. their dad is gonna be there too.” i sigh, “i gotta go.”

“how are you getting there?” she asks, “are they picking you up?”

“no,” i shake my head, “dad said he would drive me.”

her brows furrow, “your dad had to go into work.”

i gape at her, a blank look covering my face. i shouldn’t be shocked, this happens all the time. it’s the same reason i walk home from ballet, or why i’ve come to rely on Quinn to pick me up for school. but somehow, it still always feels like a cut to the heart.

my mother sighs, shutting her laptop and rising from her seat, “i’ll drive you. come on.”

“you would think he would try and spend more time with you. but it’s always work with that one. work then family.” she mutters, ranting to herself as she slips her shoes on, grabbing her keys from the dish on the entryway table.

i fall in line slowly behind her, dreading this car ride already; because it appears it’s one of those days. the days where my mother will do anything to appear better in my eyes than my father. including talking down about him to me in hopes to make me more upset with him than i already am.

and i was correct. the entire drive was spent with me sitting silently in the passengers seat, watching my surroundings pass by as she went on and on about all of the things my father has done wrong in the past week.

i couldn’t get out of the car quick enough, nearly breaking the car door off its hinges as i throw it open. calling out a goodbye to my mother and assuring her that yes, Quinn would be driving me home afterwards, i slam the door shut and jog towards the arena entrance.

slowing down upon the sight of the glass doors, my body lights up, butterflies flutter in my stomach as i spot Jack in the lobby just through the doors. he wears jeans and a gray hoodie, converse tied to his feet, and he looks down at his phone, glancing up every few moments.

when his eyes land on me through the clear glass, a friendly smile spreads across his lips, slipping his phone into his pocket and taking a few steps towards the door, propping it open for me.

“hey!” he chimes as i reach the entrance, “puck should drop soon! i was gonna text you to check in but, i didn’t wanna push anything.”

my heart rate picks up, my cheeks burning at the idea of seeing Jack’s name pop up on my phone, “you can text me any time.”

Jack’s smile drops into a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement, “i’ll keep that in mind.”

“our seats are this way.” Jack begins pushing through the lingering people in our way, many not paying any attention to the people in their way as they try and navigate towards their own seats.

for a second, i’m pushed away from him, worry flooding my mind as i think of how i’ll try and find our seats if i lose him. but then he looks back at me, his eyes finding mine, and he must see the anxiety that fills my body, because it’s not a moment later that his hand finds mine.

his hand slips into mine, interlacing our fingers as he gently tugs me closer to him as he walks, a reassuring quirk to his lips, “i got you. it’s okay.”

and somehow, all my worry melts away, just like that. for some reason, i feel like he’s telling the truth; it’ll be okay.

there’s something about Jack’s presence that calms my nerves. that makes me feel okay. and it sounds utterly insane because i’ve known him for all of twenty-four hours, but i feel like i can truly trust him.

as we reach our seats, Jack sitting next to his dad with me beside him, he still never lets go of me. instead, he rests our hands on his thigh, glancing over at me to gauge my reaction before he speaks.

“you okay?”

and finally, for once, i’m telling the truth, “yeah.”

[shockercoco]

I Told You So

Timothee Chalamet x reader

Warnings - none, fluff

Word count - 703

a/n -  request: Timothee gets sick halfway through a vacation and worries he’s ruined it but Y/N assures him he didn’t. (They are on vacation so Timothee can take a break from working so much) - it's kind of short, but I hope you enjoy :)

Timothee had been sick for a couple days leading up to the day the two of you were supposed to leave for vacation. You had told him several times that you were fine with canceling the trip or postponing it for a later time when he felt better, but each time he would brush you off and tell you that he was fine.

After all, there were only a handful of times throughout the year where he wasn’t busy filming or attending press events. When he did have time off, he used it to make up for all the lost time between the two of you.

“It’s just a small cold,” Timothee had told you the night before the trip.

His head felt heavy and cloudy, his nose was clogged so he couldn't smell, and his body ached. Overall, he felt like shit, but he didn’t want to let that stop you guys. He knew you had been looking forward to this vacation for months, and he didn’t want you having to take care of him during his time off.

“Babe, just a couple days ago you were telling me how terrible you felt, and now all of a sudden you feel better?” you countered. “ You’re sick, Timothee, just admit it.”

Somehow, he hadn’t gotten you sick, despite being around you practically every minute of the day. Your back was to him as you continued to clean the kitchen. You could hear his feet moving against the tile floor, coming closer to you, but you kept your back facing him. He took the cloth you were using to clean the counters out of your hand, trying to get your attention. You let out a sigh as you lean against the counter and let your eyes meet his. 

“I promise you, I’m good to go on this trip,” he insists as he gives you a reassuring smile, hoping you would just drop it.

Which you do. Against your better judgement, you let Timothee convince you. Throughout the plane ride, you kept looking over at him to make sure he was okay – he had noticed this out of the corner of his eye, but he chose to ignore it.

When the two of you had arrived at your rented villa on the beach, It was Timothee’s idea to not rest and to explore the area. The two of you had even gone for a swim in the ocean later that night.

On the second day of your vacation is when Timothee took a turn for the worse. When he woke up that morning, he felt like had gotten hit by a truck, he had no energy to move. He knew he couldn’t lie to you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he told you as you gave him some medicine that you had stuffed in your luggage just in case he needed it. And boy did he need it.

“It’s okay, really,” you say as you sit on the bed next to him. You place the back of your hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

“No, it’s not okay. I didn’t want you to have to take care of me on your vacation. I ruined it for you,” he sighs as he looks at you. He felt awful, and it wasn’t from the pounding headache he had.

“You didn’t ruin it, Timothee,” you reassure him.

“But we can’t do any of the things you wanted to do,” he says.

“We’ll be here for another week, I’m sure you’ll feel better in a couple of days. The most important part is that I get to spend time with you,” you say as you run a hand through his curls. 

“Yeah, spend time with your sick boyfriend,” he mumbles.

You playfully roll your eyes. “How about you stop complaining and let someone take care of you for once. It’s about time I pay you back for all the times you took care of me.”

Timothee thinks for a moment before saying, “You know what, you’re right. This is overdue. Remember that time when you had food poisoning and you threw up on- "

“Don’t say another word,” you cut him off. He just gives you a smirk in return.

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