#the crack that goes on in there is right up your alley lol

[briandraws]

You don't have to if you don't want to. Abuse is awful, and I'm sorry you had to go through that.

You don't have to join any servers if you're not comfortable yet, but when you're ready, we will welcome you <3

As my work day comes to a close, I debate about joining Discord servers again... joining servers is scary... mostly because an ex abuser was in the same fandoms as me and frequented Discord so... idk...

It genuinely depends...

[quinncupine]

Hello Quinn, I’m relatively new to your writing but I’m literally obsessed!!! I have a request for you, how about Deku x fem reader where he’s out on patrol and calls his s/o to check on her but she doesn’t answer and he has this guy feeling that something isn’t right so he goes home to find someone had broken in, what happens next is completely up to you you have my trust lol, sorry if this request is a little weird but I live for worried Izuku lol

I think we all know by now that I love throwing my characters into scary traumatizing situations, so this one was fun to write!

Home Invasion

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Word count: ~4,900

Warnings: gun violence, burglary, cursing

Quinn’s Masterlist

Izuku stared out at the bright lights that reflected millions of colors across the glittering buildings. Night time in the city was always beautiful. It was one of the reasons he loved night patrols.

As he made his rounds in the sector, his mind kept wandering back to you. What were you doing right about now? Since he was stuck on the night shift this evening, he wouldn't be there to witness your nightly routine.

He'd come to memorize your exact routine each night. Izuku chuckled as he imagined you putting on another spot of tea before you went to clean your face, humming whatever old song was stuck in your head as you danced around your shared apartment. You were probably in your pajamas by now and though he'd never voice it, he'd hoped you were wearing those Deku pj's Ochacho had gotten you as a gag gift last Christmas. It embarrassed him each time you put them on, flushing his face to near boiling every time he saw them. But he loved the way you looked in them.

The night had been quiet and his body was itching for action. Chilled fingers twitched along with his jittery form as he leaped across to the next rooftop. He always preferred to travel by rooftop during patrols. It was always easier to get a feel for whatever mood the city decided it was having that night. Plus it made sneaking up on unawares criminals much easier.

But it seemed as if all the villains in the city decided to take the night off during his patrol. That rarely ever happened. Especially with his special brand of luck.

With a sigh, he glanced down into the empty alley and made his way onto the next block. He hopped onto a ledge above a lonely intersection, watching one car lazily make its way through the light and down the next street.

He had time to make a quick call. To ease a bit of the boredom.

Fishing the cracked phone out of his pocket, he dialed your number and waited for you to answer. He was almost certain you were still awake, but a guilty thought crept into the back of his mind that maybe you decided to go to bed early tonight since he wouldn't be back until the wee hours of the morning.

The phone rang a few more times before it went to your voicemail where your chirpy recorded voice asked him to leave a message. He hung up, worried that he did call while you were asleep. He didn't want to bother you, especially this late at night.

Pocketing the device, he headed for the next block. As he landed on the next building, he couldn't help the nagging sensation in the back of his mind, demanding his attention. He knew your routine. He knew it down to a tee. Something about it didn't sit right with him. Of course, there could be a million possibilities of why you didn't answer, but usually, in Izuku's case, it always seemed to end in the worst-case scenario.

His boots dug into the gravel of the rooftop he'd stopped on. The low hum of the ventilation hid the crunch under his boots. He used the cover to lean against the metal and pull his phone out again. It couldn't hurt to just try one more time. As long as he heard from you that everything was okay, then he would be okay. He could always apologize for waking you later.

When the call went straight to voicemail this time, he stared down at the phone. Something wasn't right. That familiar sense of dread filling the pit in his stomach practically screamed it over and over at him. Something wasn't right.

Izuku pulled up the location app you both had installed on your phones. He pinpointed yours, and sure enough, you were home. Maybe you had just put it on silent, or maybe you were just busy with something at the moment.

He impatiently rapped his fingers along the cold metal surface of the unit as he thought through his decision. The apartment78 was outside his patrol route this week. From his position now, it would take him at least ten minutes off route. That nervous hole growing in his gut was only urging him more and more to just at least stop at home to check. You two could laugh about how silly it was later.

Mind made up, he turned back around and launched himself into the air, leaving a small ring in the gravel. If he boosted his speed with his quirk, he could make it there and back in time to finish his route.

The night had been a quiet one. You were used to them of course. Every couple of weeks, Izuku would have to work the graveyard shift so you wouldn't see him until the morning. After a nice relaxing bath, you slipped on your pajamas, hoping that when Izuku did eventually make it home, he'd see you asleep with his likeness plastered all over you. It always made him melt into an adorable blubbering puddle which you took too much pleasure in.

After setting the teapot on the stove, you headed into the bathroom to finish washing your face. Humming a tune, you turned on the faucet. The water felt nice, especially after a long day. You could feel yourself relaxing the longer you splashed your face.

Over the sound of the sink, you heard a door close. With a handful of water brimming past your cupped palms, you froze, glancing at your phone on the counter. Izuku wouldn't be home yet unless something drastic happened, but normally, he would at least call if there was an issue.

Dropping the water back into the sink, you grabbed a towel and patted your face dry, then turned off the faucet. Before you stepped into the hallway, you slipped your phone into the waistband of your pants.

"Izuku? Didn't your shift already start? What are you doing home-" Your words died on your lips as you turned the corner into the living room, locking eyes with a masked person in a hoodie. The ski mask was lifted, revealing a pudgy face and wide saucer-like eyes.

The man was holding a large sack, half filled with contents from around the room. A burglar. You'd walked in on a burglary.

Two pairs of shocked eyes stared at each other for a few tense seconds. Your heart had gone into overdrive, nearly hammering itself right out of your chest. Your feet unconsciously backed up, but the man dropped the sack with a loud crack and pulled out a pistol, shakily aiming it at you.

"Don't move!" he cried out, eyes nervously darting around the room.

He didn't expect to be caught red-handed. His thick fingers trembled, shaking the barrel so badly you were sure if he did decide to shoot, he had a pretty good chance of missing. But you didn't want to take that chance to begin with.

You raised your hands in surrender. "Look, I don't want any trouble." You tried to keep your voice steady so as not to spook him. "Take whatever you want, as long as you leave. Just put the gun down alright? I won't fight."

That much was true. You weren't a hero like Izuku. You wouldn't try to bust your way through a fight. You only had your wits to keep you safe from a bullet and a shaky trigger finger.

The room was silent as the burglar nervously thought it over, the gun never wavering from his target. At last, he lowered it slightly, glancing down at his sack of stolen goodies.

A small bit of relief rolled through you as you thought he'd just take his prize and leave, but then a loud ringtone buzzed from your waist startling you both.

"What is that? What are you doing?" He took a heavy step forward, barrel pointed back at you. "Drop it! Drop it now!"

You couldn't help the panicked yelp as he waved the gun wildly, threatening to shoot. With slow motion, you lifted the phone out of your waistband and carefully placed it on the floor, face up. You could see Izuku's goofy grin lighting the screen as the phone vibrated loudly on the floor, demanding attention. After another ring, the phone went dark, along with your hope.

"N-now kick it over here!" He cried out, obviously getting more and more frantic with how this evening was turning out.

You couldn't say you were any more happy than he was.

Sliding your foot out, you gave it a little shove. The phone twirled across the wood floor until it came to a stop between the two of you. The man narrowed his eyes at you as he took a few more steps out to reach it.

As he bent down to grab it, you debated on the odds of running. If you just got outside, you could escape to get help. Or he could have a much better aim than you thought. The chances of him hitting his target weren't low enough to tangle with. If only there was a way to warn Izuku. But right now, your only means of communication was currently in a panicked criminal's hands.

The man examined your phone until the shrill cry from your kettle in the kitchen startled him so much that he dropped the device. You heard the crunch of your screen the moment it hit the floor, and you were afraid he'd destroyed your phone. Destroyed your chances of calling for help.

He cursed as he swiveled in the direction of the kitchen, trying to find the source of the noise.

"It's just the kettle," you said quietly, not wanting to startle him any more than he already had been.

A nervous gunman was an unpredictable gunman.

"This wasn't how it was supposed to go," he whispered as he stormed into the kitchen, keeping the gun trained on you as he moved the kettle off the stove, silencing the pot and filling the apartment with more tense silence.

You watched him, heart hammering in your chest as you tried to figure out what he was going to do. You'd seen his face. His mask was still sitting above his brow. He hadn't made any attempts at hiding himself. You weren't sure if he just hadn't realized it in his panic or if he knew he'd be screwed either way. But with the way he was staring at you now, you were sure this wasn't going to end in your favor.

"He said it'd be easy." The man rubbed his forehead with his free hand, before running his palm down his face. "Shit!"

"Please, if you leave now, I promise I won't say anything."

At least not until you had your phone back. Then there would be nowhere for him to hide once Izuku got wind of it. The only problem was getting to it with that barrel still staring down at you.

"No!" He yelled, pulling the rest of the mask off to rub his head with the side of the gun. Sweat had built up in his damp hair. It dripped down the side of his face, pooling under his chin. "No, no, no! You've already seen me. I'm screwed. If I mess something as simple as this up, then they'll-" he paused as if the next part was too terrifying to say aloud. "No! I've gotta fix this somehow."

An icy dread filled your veins. Everything he just admitted was what you were afraid of. You were the only witness. All he had to do was just get rid of the witness. A short-term solution to a long-term issue. It was a terrible plan. One that had major consequences for both parties, but he didn't seem to be in the listening kind of mood.

That familiar ringtone broke the taut mess of emotions hanging in the air. You glanced at the phone jingling against the floorboards with its merry tune. A stark contrast to your feelings at the moment.

He moved quickly out of the kitchen, back to where your phone lay innocently on the ground. The burglar lifted his boot and in one hard stomp, killed your only chance of calling for help. The buzzing stopped as your poor phone was crushed underfoot.

"Get on the floor! Put-put your hands on your head!" He charged toward you so quickly you sucked in a breath, stumbling back a few steps. "Don't make me tell you twice!"

Unsure of what else to do, you stiffly obeyed. Kneeling on the floor, you locked your hands behind your head, trying your best to regulate your heavy breaths. Panic was building in your throat. Tears blurred your vision. Fear flooded your thoughts. Thinking was nearly impossible as he pointed that gun just inches from your head.

The man wiped at the sheen of sweat building on his forehead and blinked hard. "I-I don't want to hurt you…but I can't…I can't go back to jail. If he knows I messed up again then-" He groaned, smacking his face.

"You won't!" you pleaded, holding in a sob. Anything to make him stop pointing that gun at your face. "Please, this will only make things worse."

"I just needed to pay off some debts." He seemed to be pleading right back, a wobbly tilt to his voice. He was just as scared as you. "It was supposed to be easy money. No one was supposed to be here. You weren't supposed to be here."

The man must not have done very good research before he attempted this little caper. You supposed the only reason he'd gotten caught was the work trip you were supposed to be on this week had been canceled. You weren't supposed to be here tonight. It was a last-minute change that threw him for a loop. And now it seemed you were paying the price.

"I can't-argh!" He twisted away, smacking the butt of the gun against his head in frustration. "Shit, shit, shit!"

The criminal stalked back and forth, seeming to debate about what to do next. As he paced, he only occasionally threw a sparing glance your way. Your stomach churned every time he looked at you. If you could just get past him without him looking. If you could just get through the door before he realized. You definitely didn't want to stick around to figure out what he would ultimately decide.

As he turned his back once more, you tensed your legs, ready to spring into action. With one quick motion, you dashed for the door on the other side of the room. He spun around when you were halfway across the living room and screamed. The gunshot nearly deafened you as it splintered the vase beside you.

You shrieked, stumbling back into the wall, trying to distance yourself from the shattered pottery. It was a gut reaction but it was the wrong choice. Your hesitance gave him the opportunity he needed to place himself between you and the door, raising the gun with his finger on the trigger.

There was no time to think. You knew he was going to shoot. He was too spooked to let you go now. Not after the attempted escape. So you did the only thing you could.

You ran.

Backpedaling as fast as you could, you flung yourself around the corner and down the hall. In your panic, you dove into the first room you came across which happened to be the bathroom. Once you crossed the barrier, you twisted and kicked the door shut, practically throwing yourself into the wood as you fumbled with the lock.

The moment you twisted the lock, he slammed himself into the door. The knob shook so hard you were worried he would tear it right out of the door. The bathroom was small and with not much space to work with, you backed up, nearly tripping on the rug in front of the bathtub. Your breathing was too rapid to gain control so you bent over, struggling for air that just wouldn't come. Panic had nearly engulfed your entire being.

The door shook a few times as slammed himself into it over and over again. Whatever the door was made of, it held up surprisingly well under the assault.

But it wouldn't hold forever.

You'd sealed your fate by running. There was no way he'd let you live now. And why would you trap yourself in the bathroom of all places? It was windowless. No means of escape. It just happened to be the first door offering meager protection in your panicked state. If only you'd had the sense to make it to the bedroom where the window led out onto the fire escape.

"Come out now!" He screamed from the other side. "There's nowhere to run!"

Your legs hit the porcelain of the tub. Stepping into it, you crouched low and hugged your knees. Yes, you'd successfully trapped yourself, but you did have one thing going for you. He shot at you. One of your neighbors must've heard the commotion. At least you hoped so. All you had to do was wait him out and hope the door held until help arrived.

The kicking stopped. A part of you prayed that he'd finally come to his senses and fled while he had the chance. Silence filled the bathroom, ringing loudly in your ears as you held your breath. Tears leaked onto your knees, soaking your pajamas. You stared down at one of the masked faces of Deku adorning your knee. You needed him right now, but how in the world was he supposed to know that? The knowledge that he wasn't coming was turning your panic into full-blown hysterics.

There was a small click from the other side of the door. You didn't even have a chance to react as a bullet shot through the thick wood, impaling itself in the tile above your head. With a scream, you threw yourself flat against the tub, hoping it would provide at least some protection. A second shot tore through the curtains.

"Help!" you cried as loudly as you could. "Help!"

A third shot shattered the side of the toilet bowl, spilling water everywhere.

You curled tighter into yourself, squeezing your eyes shut.

Expecting a fourth shot, you covered your ears, but instead, a loud thud shook the floor outside. Freezing, you listened in the terse silence, the sound of your breath too loud in your ears. It seemed too good to be true…had someone finally come?

Izuku landed on the sidewalk in front of the six-story walkup. In the darkness of the late-night air, he saw only a few windows glowing with life. His eyes scanned the side of the building, searching out the right floor and- there. The faint glow from the living room drifted through the curtains. So he knew he wouldn't be waking you up, at least.

He entered the lobby, shoes squeaking in the quiet emptiness, and jogged up the stairs that lead to the fifth floor.

The building itself was pretty old. A single elevator sat permanently out of commission, much to the ire of the other residents. Most of the rooms could use a fresh coat of paint…and probably a few other repairs. But rent was cheap and with opening his own agency only a year ago, his savings would take a while to grow back.

You didn’t seem to mind. Working yourself to the ground trying to make your own path with your career. While the place itself was a bit old and rundown, it was what you two joyfully called home because it was where each other was. And that's all you could really ask for in this life.

Izuku had made it to the third floor when he heard the distinct sound of gunfire from above. It was muffled, but there was no mistaking the sound, especially in his line of work. That sense of dread floating in his veins seemed to pool right into his stomach as he boosted himself up the last two flights.

When the door came into view, he stopped, taking in the sight with dread.

The door was slightly ajar.

Someone was inside.

With you.

A second shot fired off and one of the neighboring doors peeked open. An elderly man popped his head out of the door looking rightfully alarmed. Izuku caught his attention with a finger to his lips and motioned for him to go back inside.

He made his way to the edge of the door and glanced inside. From his viewpoint, he could see the living room. There was a shattered vase on the floor, a black bag full of various things you two owned, and then there were the remnants of your crushed phone. But no signs of you or whoever fired that gun.

Another bullet fired further inside, and your scream was what got him moving double time. His quirk sparking around him like furious lightning, he launched himself past the living room. The commotion came from the hallway, and when he rounded the corner, he saw a man dressed in all black fire, another bullet into the bathroom door.

The bullet had barely left the chamber before Izuku slammed into the man with full unmerciful force. Both men collided with the wall at the end of the hall, cracking the plaster. An agonizing cry came from underneath him as the man curled around his arm, bent at an odd angle. He didn't put up much more of a fight as he groaned, glaring up at Izuku.

"You broke my arm!" He screamed as if Izuku was the one in the wrong. "Dammit!"

But the adrenaline was still pumping through his veins and with no fight to serve as a proper output for his fury, he slammed the wall beside the intruder's head with a boiling cry of outrage, making a fist-sized hole in the wall. Walls, he could replace. Heads, not so much.

At the sudden violent outburst, the man stiffened, blinking the rain of dust out of his eyes. He snapped his mouth shut, eyes wide with terror.

Once Izuku took a few breaths to calm himself down, he wrenched the criminal off the wall, only to slam him belly-first into the floor. Pressing a foot down on his back, he used a set of zip ties from his belt to secure the writhing mess of a man beneath him. He didn't care to be gentle as he nudged the criminal on his side and tied his hands tight, ignoring the sobs spilling from his mouth. He moved down to his legs and tied those two. Just to be sure, this bastard wasn't going anywhere until Izuku decided what to do with him.

"No, no, no," the intruder cried weakly into the floor, struggling with his binds. "It wasn't- argh- it wasn't supposed to go this way. It's all her fault!"

He glared down at the whining mess struggling to free himself. "You'll pay for your mistakes. If you hurt her at all," he squatted low to make sure he was listening. "I swear you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

With that, Izuku turned his attention to the bathroom door, now decorated with a few bullet holes. He made his way over until he stood just outside it, trying to hear any signs of life within. It was silent and that perhaps scared him more than anything. Just what would he find in there after this disaster of a night?

You were everything to him. If something were to happen to you, he honestly wasn't sure what he'd do. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not in the safety of your home. Not when Izuku-Deku- is supposed to be watching your back. Not to someone as perfect and as kind as you.

Shaky fingers gripped the knob and turned, only to be stopped by the lock. When he called your name, a slight wobble to his voice, he only heard silence for a few terrifying moments before the subtle sounds of movement came from inside.

"…Izuku?" you asked quietly, sniffling and not entirely trusting. "Is that really you?"

"It's me. I'm here. Everything's okay now. You're safe, I promise." He leaned his head against the wood, trying to tamper down his own racing heart. "I'm so sorry."

The door unlocked and swung open so fast, that he barely even registered it before you crashed into him with a fierce hug, squeezing as tight as you could manage around his bulky frame. The fabric of his uniform twisted in your grasp. You buried your face as deep into his chest as you could and let out a shaky sob. In one long breath, you let all your fear and terror out.

"H-How'd you even know to come?" you asked, voice muffled by the cloth but unwilling to let go just yet.

His arms curled tight around you. A secure embrace you were grateful for and melted into it. You felt him trembling almost as much as you. He had been just as terrified as you were, maybe for different reasons, but still the same fear.

"I…I don't know." He admitted into your hair. "I just…I had a feeling."

And he would forever be grateful to the fates for whatever reason they decided to give him the instincts to come. But at the moment, all he cared about was that you were here, alive, and safe in his arms.

"I'm glad you did," you spoke softly, your emotions finally reigning themselves in a bit. "I don't even want to think about what would've-" you paused, your mouth not quite able to form the rest of the sentence.

He didn't want to say it either. Just thinking about the worst-case scenario had him shuddering at the thought. What if he had ignored his instinct tonight? Would you even be alive after he would've eventually come home hours from now?

Sparing a glance at the man who was too absorbed in pleading his case to the floor, he twisted you around so you wouldn't have to look at him.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Izuku gently cupped your red puffy face in his hands. Those giant green eyes laced with concern as he searched for any sign of pain.

"I don't think so." That much was true, at least in the physical sense. But you did a quick cursory check of your limbs and, finding them still intact, you grasped his wrists. "Thank you. You saved me. He would've- I might've-" stammering out the words, your raw voice dissolved into a puddle, and you pulled him in for another tight hug.

As you hicciped into his uniform, he could only hug you tighter. A light kiss to the crown of your head, and he leaned in to whisper, "I will always be there for you. I promise."

"You won't leave?" you murmured, voice vibrating directly into his heart.

"I won't leave," he assured you, gently swaying from side to side. "I'll stay right here by your side for the rest of the night. For the rest of your life if that's what it takes.

He felt your body sag in relief. Your fingers curled into the creases of the fabric. You let out a deep, slightly shaky breath.

It wasn't a lie.

He would stick by your side for as long as you would let him. You were the light of his life. The thing he looked forward to each and every day. The man would give anything up to make sure you stayed happy, healthy, and alive.

As you fought back the adrenaline slowly seeping from your body, he wrapped an arm around your waist, that look of concern still adorning his freckly face.

"Do you need to sit?"

"Maybe," you admitted, dropping your head into his shoulder and trusting he would have your weight should you stumble.

He led you to the couch where he could still keep an eye on the hogtied criminal down the hall and helped you ease into the cushions. You patted your knees and frowned. Your pants were dirty, smudging the print of his masked likeness.

"They're dirty," you muttered, poking the print. "And they were my favorite."

Izuku, despite the situation, blushed as he stared down at your pants. "They were?"

"Yeah. But I suppose as long as I have the real version with me, I can manage." You leaned back, taking his hand and curling yourself around his arm as he stood vigil over you while you waited for the police. "You're a good hero Izuku. And you just keep proving it. There isn't a doubt in my mind that you'll be Number One someday."

As you closed your eyes, you didn't catch the red dusting his cheeks, but you did hear the way his breath hitched in his throat. You smiled something small and wobbly as you scrubbed the last of the tears from your face. Finally, you let yourself relax a little, knowing you were safe with him. There was solace in knowing he'd always be right there by your side.

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Prologue

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: After running for so long, it was time to come home

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers and angst. Mentions of death, mental health issues, and toxic relationships. It’s not graphic or detailed in this one but I just want to warn you now that this series will deal with extremely heavy topics as it goes on (similar to the show).

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hey bestiesssssssssss!!! This is my first ever series and actually first ever written work that I'm posting lol and I'm so excited for it!!! I'm starting off with a series because i had this really good and angsty idea while reading ANOTHER fantastic piece of work and was like “fine…….. I'll do it myself” so i'm here now writing it lmao anyways i'm starting off posting my fanfics with Mikey and Carmy because i've been a little too focused on The Bear lately n love them so much. Chapter one of this series should be coming up this time next week so dw abt waiting so long for an update!! Anyways i hope you all enjoyyyy <3

MASTERLIST

The cool Chicago night air nips at you as it blows by, rolling along the exposed skin of your arms. It was 3 in the morning and the street where The Original Beef of Chicagoland stood was empty and silent.

The building stood before you, quiet and lifeless. It was odd seeing it so silent and it almost seemed… peaceful. But one glance at the rusting sign that seemed to be barely hanging onto the building made the façade of tranquility fall.

The knot in your stomach grew as your eyes traced over the rusted sign and then onto the walls that showed cracks and age. The sidewalk wasn’t any better with uneven cement and haphazard patching. Just then, a piece of trash rolled by the curb, coming from the alley right next to The Beef. 

It was just like how you remembered it. 

The wear and tear was what originally made you appreciate it. It showed use and love, the same way that laugh lines around a person’s mouth showed you that they lived a life full of smiles and laughter. The walls were in use as hundreds filed in and out of the building for their favorites, every week. The floor was worn away underneath the soles of families, drunk friends, older couples, working folk, and more. The ungentrified building made the whole thing feel nostalgic, despite not being a building you were around as a child. It had felt… familiar in a both comforting and melancholic way. 

But now, seeing the building, especially with its marks of age, made your blood run like ice through your veins. It made you shiver, despite it being September in Chicago. 

What once was a warm and inviting place felt cold and even scary. 

It had been months since you spoke to the Berzattos. Actually, it had been months since you were in Chicago at all. About 8 months, that is. You left in February after… everything and never looked back. The east felt too familiar at that point, so you traveled west.

You chased the highs and avoided the lows, moving from one place to another until you settled in a quiet town where you felt loved. But that love didn’t come without its challenges and when it got hard, you did what you knew best and that was leaving. 

So you left with no clue as to where you were going, too proud but mainly too afraid to reach out to the family you had in Chicago. You drove with a car full of junk you couldn't even stand looking at anymore for all the memories of the past couple of months attached to them made your stomach churn. With no place to go, you found yourself, 5 days after leaving and living in your car, sitting on the hood of your 2002 Chevy Impala, stopped and watched the sunset of the west for the last time at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere with your head hurting and eyes puffy. It was then when your phone buzzed. 

The cracked screen blinked brightly as you glanced over at it.

‘Please come home, we miss you - Nat’

Your mouth dried as you read the message. Your heart pounded in your ears as your eyes raced over the words over and over and over.

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss you’

‘Please come home, we miss-

Another message popped up then, interrupting your reading and making you jump. 

‘I promise it’s okay’

Your hands trembled. How Sugar got your number after you changed it twice to avoid your ex from the west was a mystery but it almost felt like divine intervention as you read it under the glow of the cotton candy clouds in the sky. 

‘Come home’

So you made the decision to go back. 

To go home. 

But this decision didn’t mean that you were leaving right away; for two months you practically lived in motel rooms and in your car, pacing back and forth for hours in parking lots, empty hallways, and tiny motel rooms at the thought of facing everyone again. Would they be upset? Angry? Sad? Would they hate you? Welcome you with open arms? Especially after abandoning them the way you did? 

Some nights were spent breathing deeply and slowly, desperately trying to get your heart to beat at a reasonable pace and other nights were spent with tears streaming down your cheeks. You almost even decided to just not come home at all; it felt like moving out of the country and assuming a new identity would be easier to deal with than going home.

But you got yourself together and after pawning everything you didn’t mind parting with for cash, you drove with a lighter trunk and a lighter heart across the country and eastward toward Illinois. 

Before you knew it, the giant ‘WELCOME TO ILLINOIS, THE LAND OF LINCOLN’ sign had appeared in your vision. It greeted you like an old friend, making your eyes sting and your chest tighten as your car zoomed by it. 

Two hours away from Chicago, your stomach would not stop growling so you decided to stop and grab a bite to eat. After settling your car at a nearby park next to an empty bench, you got off and focused a bit too much on grabbing your belongings to notice what your surroundings looked like. 

It wasn’t until you had sat down and ripped the bag of food open, when the smell of a salami and mozzarella sub wafted in the air, perking you up and prompting you to smile softly, that you glanced up. Over the dark green shrubs and still water of Peoria Lake were cotton candy clouds, nearly identical to the ones that you had seen while sitting on the hood of your car, terrified and hoping for a sign, any sign, that what you were doing was the right thing. 

Five minutes later, your car was back on the highway and speeding towards Chicago.

You stayed over at your parents’ house that night. They were overjoyed to see their child. Your mother cried, holding onto you as your father rubbed your back, comfortingly. Part of you wanted to, so badly, melt into their arms, but another part of you reminded you of the last time you were here. Despite the furniture being different and the decorations being rearranged, your body twitched as it remembered the exact emotions and position you were in when you got the news. 

The news that your boyfriend, Michael Berzatto, was found dead.

You couldn’t sleep that night, nor the next, or even the one after that. You got a combined total of about 15 hours of sleep in the past 72 hours, making you look and feel exhausted. But your mind was the only thing that wasn’t exhausted from replaying the memory over and over and over. 

About 5 days after you arrived, you got another message from Sugar. This time, a pit formed in your stomach as you read it.

‘Hey, it’s me again! Can you swing by The Beef tomorrow? I'm working there now and would love to see you. I’m sorry this is on such short notice but I've been crazy busy and I heard you were in town. I really want to see you and if you can’t do tomorrow, let me know so we can plan another day.

We really do miss you.’

You rock your jaw and put your phone down on the edge of the twin mattress you sat on, in your childhood bedroom. Right then, your mom gently knocks on your bedroom door before pushing it open.

“Have you talked to Natalie at all yet?” she said softly, clasping her hands together and leaning against the door frame.

You huffed and smiled weakly, of course your mom would mention something to her, that’s how she knew you were here. While your mom respected you doing things on your own time, she also knew that you needed a little push to make that connection. 

“Uhm… yea she just texted me. I uh, i might see her tomorrow at The Beef,” you murmured with a shaky breath. 

Thank god Sugar ended up being the one to text you instead of you texting her. 

Your mom smiled sweetly, “I think you should go, sweetheart. I know it seems scary but… I think it’s time you saw them…” 

Nodding, you turn and crawl up to the pillows of your bed. With a sigh, you lay down and close your eyes, exhausted. 

From your door frame, your mom quietly watched you and sighs softly. She slowly grabs your door and closes it behind her as she leaves. The hallway light goes off, leaving you and your thoughts alone in the pitch black dark.  

And here you were, a couple hours after you read her message, standing across The Beef on a cool Chicago night with the air nipping at your exposed skin as it blows by. You left in such a rush that you forgot to bring a hoodie and didn’t even bother to change from your thin pajama pants and loose old t-shirt. All you did was throw on your shoes and climb out your window, car keys clutched in your sweaty palm, like you used to do in high school to sneak off with Mikey. 

But those days seemed so far away now the same way that The Beef seemed so far away. It felt as if the trek across the street actually spanned thousands of miles and not a minute walk. 

So you sighed and turned around, walking down the sidewalk and back to your car. Who knew what time it was anymore, but you knew that you really needed to get rest tonight… you had a big day tomorrow. 

[kaminocasey]

Omega Squad Headcanons

A/N: I'm still not convinced I'm great at HCs lol. But here are my inner thoughts for the Omega boys. I miss them always. And love them with my entire heart and soul!

Warnings: 18+ Always. Minors DNI; Some Fluff, some smut. A little mixture.

Niner bought a ring right after your first date. He was in love and prepared to settle down right then and there. 

Atin and Fi gave him so much shit for months. 

When Niner proposed, you obviously said yes. But you also knew because Fi is TERRIBLE at keeping secrets. 

Niner is a “my wife” kind of guy. Talks about you ALL the time. Never shuts up about you. 

(@rebelsriley says: Knows nothing about sex. Doesn’t care. Eager to learn.) 

You take the lead a lot. The first time he saw you fully naked, he nearly cried because he thought you were a literal angel.

Fi, though… He didn’t think he’d ever get to settle down. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to settle down until he met you. 

Your ability to crack jokes and keep up with his humor nearly brought him to his knees.

Darman still teases Fi that you’re funnier. 

The first time you ever made him laugh, all three of his brothers kept giving him knowing smirks but he tried his best to ignore them. 

One night, the two of you were sitting on the edge of a building, overlooking Coruscant, one of Fi’s favorite views, only second to you, you were teasing each other and the way you looked at him, gave him courage to finally kiss you. 

“Atin and Darman have a running bet that you wouldn’t ever get the courage to do that.” You look up at him, amused.

“I hope you bet on my side.” He acts scandalized. 

You chuckle and hop up. “I always bet on the winning side.” 

He smirks to himself for a minute and then glances after you. “That means you bet on me, right?” 

You bite your lip with a chuckle as Fi gets up to follow you.

“...Right?” He asks again and you burst into a fit of giggles.  

You and Atin argue a lot. Not in a toxic way. But in a both stubborn kind of way. Atin does mean stubborn in Mando’a, afterall. 

The first time you fuck, it’s in a back alley because he dragged you back there to argue away from the group. 

But you ended up kissing him and he pushed you up against the wall and then deepened the kiss and made you get yourself worked up, grinding on his thigh. 

When he kissed you back, you laughed and said “I knew it.” to which he responded “Shut up. No you did not.” And then fucked you. 

Darman was intimidated by you when he first met you. 

You argued with Atin on his behalf one time and he saw stars in his eyes.

While he can definitely hold his own, he was touched that you came to his defense.

When you finally told him how you felt, he felt like his brain was short circuiting.

“Are… are you sure?” He tilts his head.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You smile at him and his entire body goes warm and fuzzy. “Do… you like me?” 

“I do. Very much.”

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover

[sanzusbestie]

HAHAHAHAH okay but i had this idea for like a while but imagine the haitani brother were on buying groceries and they saw ran crush and gies to spy on them and ran who has not braided his hair letting it freely.and it was dark and reader goes to an alleyway for shortcut when she look at her back she thought she saw a ghost only when its ran but it was dark so she was just yawning cuase bitch is tired and when she looked back she just scream not loudly because not wanting attention and then just sprint on full speed.rin who caught on anything start laughing like a hyena.how do you think ran react?

♡ Haitani brothers accidentally scaring Ran's crush ♡

Characters : Haitani brothers and f!reader as Ran's crush

Genre : Crack

Warnings : Cussing (not really bad lol)

A/n : Thanks sweet anon you really made me laugh with this ! Thank you for requesting and have a nice day ♡

"I'll go." "I won't go." "I'll go." "I won't go."

You were currently debating with yourself if you should go buy a midnight snack by pulling the petals off of a daisy

Last petal : "I'll go."

You grabbed your jacket and put on your shoes and walked out of your tiny apartment, locking the door behind you

You were still in your lame pyjamas but it didn't matter, you wouldn't run into anyone you knew, right ?

Absolutely not right. You were wrong, very wrong 💀

You went to the nearest convenience store to get some chocolate

SoMe

You were so focused on choosing that you didn't see the two young men looking at you from the other side of the shelf

"Is that Y/n ?" one of them asked

The way Ran immediately turned his head like boy be careful of your neck

He slapped Rindou on his face with hair by doing so

"Watch out for fuck sake ! I'll cut your damn hair !" he started, "What a strange choice of clothing," Rindou whispered to his brother

"Don't judge her ! It's her personality that matters."

But Ran had a hard time trying to conceal his laugh

He had to admit it : what the hell were you wearing ?

You must be very confident, he admired that about you

"Oh wait. It's almost her turn to pay, she'll leave then !"

"Okay ? And what do you want me to do about that ?" Rindou asked

"Let's follow her !" Ran said like he just had the best idea of the century

"Do you know who follow people ?"

"Who ?"

"Psychopaths ! We're not in 'You' ! Let's go home."

"You're coming with me," Ran said seriously, "Or else..."

"Or else what ? Finish your fucking sentence I hate when you do that, it's so annoying !"

"You know what I'm talking about, Rindou."

He wasn't left much choice : his brother has too much shit on him

They put some distance between you and them so you wouldn't notice

"That's fucking ridiculous. You know what ? I'd be glad if she called the police."

"Shut up, she's going to hear us."

"Well, I sure hope she does."

You, for your part, haven't noticed them at all

You could only think about the chocolate you just bought

"I'm so hungry, maybe I should take the shortcut. But it's dark af. Oh but I can use my phone flash ! Yummy yummy, all this chocolate in my tummy !"

You were lucky they couldn't read minds

The more you sank in the dark alley, the less the street lights could reach you

So you took your phone from your jacket pocket to activate the flashlight

Only to see that it was dead

You turned around, there was no way in hell you'd walk alone in the dark

But when you turned around you saw him : the man that was going to kill you

You couldn't see his face well but you could make up some things

Like his long messy hair and his open mouth- wait why was his mouth open ?

You knew why :

He was definitely a cannibal !

You had watched documentaries, you knew what you were talking about

You wanted to scream but no sound came past your throat

You couldn't die right now

Not dressed like that

Not in your Justin Bieber pyjamas

You didn't want to do it, you absolutely didn't want to

But your life and dignity were at stake

You took your bag filled with chocolate and threw it on his face with full force

You took advantage of the fact that he was unbalanced to push him with all your strength and left, you had became Usain Bolt

You didn't even noticed Rindou who, the second you left, started to laugh hysterically scaring you even more

"Well," Rindou started after he calmed down a bit, "That was a reaction. I really don't regret coming with you, that's for sure !"

"She didn't even give me one second to talk," poor boy was so dumbfounded

You really shocked him

"Rindou," Ran said, regaining his composure, "Don't talk about this to any one. Especially not Y/n."

Rindou smirked : he now had something to blackmail him.

♡

Taglist : @eriskaitto

[palbabor-writes]

Hellooo queen I hope you had/will have a great day. This is actually my first time requesting something so I’m very sorry if I do something wrong 🥺🥺... can you maybe write some fluff (OR NSFW I DONT MIND... just love him way too much damn) stuff for dabi?? I don't know if you only take requests with exact instructions or if this request is enough... if you need something more precise i will try to come up with something! Thank you very much!!

Hello, love! You did it perfectly & thank you so much for asking! I can be a bit of a lurker on things, so I totally get how much courage it takes to do one of these.

You did amazing & I love, love this question. I love it so much that I went ahead and took an old outline of mine & made it into a full blown fic for you!

Now, in honor of all the craziness swirling around our favorite flame user, Imma post it a little earlier then I’d planned! So, thank you for the ask & I hope to talk to you again ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7496

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW 18+ only, mentions of blood and gore, heat play, dick piercings, adult language and freaking Dabi. That alone should warn you.

Thermós θερμός   ther·​mos adjective m (feminine θερμή, neuter θερμόν); warm, hot, boiling, glowing

It’s sweltering; the fervor of summer sticky, humid, and oppressive. Japan is in the throes of August, and this heatwave is not letting up. Even at night, it’s impossible for Dabi to get comfortable. He’s been lying, half naked, draped across his narrow twin mattress for the last few hours, sweating. 

His quirk isn’t helping matters.

He’s been trying to recruit new members. Every day, he sets out, pounding the pavement, sifting through the bits and pieces of trash that he runs into. It’s a pity. If those scrubs weren’t so fucking pathetic, he might not be in this predicament. But they are, and now he’s having to suffer the consequences of his temper. 

His phone gleams on his dilapidated side table, a text message chiming across the screen as it flashes a speck of brightness into the darkened room. Groaning, he leans over and snatches it up, his hands slick as he clutches the encased plastic. 

It’s Toga. 

As a rule, he tries to avoid her. He hates her chatter. It’s always some unending nonsense about those UA kids, about Stain, or about fucking blood. It’s always blood with her. Give her five minutes, and she’ll work it into her conversation somehow, even if it’s just blurting it out, a blush staining her cheeks. 

Fucking freak.

[ Blondie: 12:34 am ]

- found smth 4 u. (Y/N) has a place. Keeps it @ like 60 degrees… lol

Well, disgusting as Toga is, she has her uses; he thinks as he reads her text. 

He’d asked her, a few days before, if she knew a place where he could crash. Somewhere that had some goddamn air conditioning. The hideout’s unit is on the fritz again, not that it had ever worked all that well. 

Hmm, well this is something, at least. 

Dabi’s isn’t sure what to think about Toga’s little ‘find’. You were a newer recruit, someone that Compress had brought in. 

He hadn’t paid much attention to you. You didn’t stay at the base and were only around if there was a specific mission, or a task, that Shigaraki set for you. He isn’t even sure what your quirk is. You seemed easy-going, neutral, but he doubted you’d extend that easy-going demeanor to him camping out at your place for the A/C. 

Chucking his phone back on the side table, Dabi flops to his side and tries to drift off, hoping his exhaustion will let him ignore the suffocating heat he’s drowning in.

 Fuck. 

He’d done it again. It was hard to resist the urge when these people spouted such vague fucking bullshit at him. No one, not fucking one of them, could live up to his cause. And if they couldn’t meet that standard? Well, they were better off as ash, melting into blackened pools as the asphalt greedily soaked their blood into its cracked depths. 

There is a heat advisory today. 

He’d heard the news as he scarfed down a quick breakfast at the hideout’s bar. He wouldn’t be out for that long, he reasoned. Besides, maybe today he’d find someone good. 

Wishful thinking on his part. 

His skin feels oppressive and his staples and piercings are scalding, the metal hissing and steaming as he tries to dampen his quirk. It’s harder to regulate his temperature on hot days. He shouldn’t be out here, he thinks, snarling as he pats out a few rogue flames that catch on his dark jacket. Even lifting his arm to perform that simple task makes him grunt, hissing out a mantra of curses.

Shit, fuck, goddamn it fucking all. 

He looks bitterly up at the sun and debates his next move. 

He could retreat to the bar, but that doesn’t solve his problem. No, the viscous heat that radiated along those upper floors would just make his skin feel worse. Hell, it might even result in more mottling, his burns stretching farther along his arms and chest. He’s not going back to the bar.

Where the fuck even is he?

He peers down the alley toward the street. It’s not too busy; just after noon, so most of the foot traffic from the morning has died down. He yanks his hood up, ignoring the ache of his legs as he stalks toward the street corner. 

Carefully, he pokes out, his eyes tracing over the crosswalk, looking for the street signs. Ah. He’s close to that address, your address, that Toga sent him. 

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he saunters along the pavement, careful to keep his head down. 

You were out of town. 

He’d picked up that tidbit from Compress this morning. The masked man had been lamenting that you might be away for a few days, possibly weeks. Something about being on a fact finding task for that shadowy voice that talked with Shigaraki from his tv. 

He didn’t care, still doesn’t. All he knows is that you supposedly keep your place cold, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

You’ve got a nice apartment. 

It’s decorated in pleasing whites, yellows, reds and greens, with clean lines and modern touches. It’s kinda like you, he considers as he shrugs his coat off and breathes in that amazing waft of cold A/C. You’ve been useful to have in the League; efficient and no nonsense about the missions you're given and you can fit in with the outside world. You’d give even Toga a run for her money when it comes to espionage, he’s heard others say about you. 

Dabi tosses a distasteful glare at your narrow couch and pads toward your bedroom, shouldering the door open and stepping into the dark sanctuary.

Your bed looks nice. It’s a good size too. 

Lifting his boots from his feet and stripping down to his boxers, he presses into your clean sheets; shivering as the chilly air hits his overheated skin, cooling and dampening that oppressive sense of heat. He’s out in seconds, his body relaxing, slackening as he falls into the void of his dreams.

Yeah, now that he’s had this, there’s no way he’s staying at that hideout of the League’s unless he has to. 

You’re gone for the better part of a week. 

He’s started asking Compress about you. At first, the older man had given him an impassive stare. Since when did Dabi even know your name? 

He’s asking because he needs to talk with you about… uh… supplies? 

This, apparently, is the correct thing to say, because Compress nods his head sagely and elaborates on your timetable. You’re collecting things for Kurogiri and you’ll be gone for another few days. 

Good, Dabi thinks, slinking into your apartment again, lowering the window behind him. He’s careful to leave things as he found them, his entryway into your place included. You don’t need to know about this.

What the fuck would he even say to you? 

Hey, uh, it’s fucking hot at the hideout, and since you’ve got a working A/C unit and like 3 fans, he’s been sleeping over at yours. No big deal, right?

Even after you return, he keeps sneaking in. 

He’s gotten your schedule memorized, and he’s heedful of the hours you keep. You’re a little more regular than the others in the League. You actually sleep at night; unlike the rest. The others are often out at God knows what hour, combing for recruits and leads, but not you.

So, Dabi shifts into full night owl mode. He crashes at your place in the midmorning, after you leave for the day, trying to ignore the perfume that comes from your sheets. 

You’ve got a nice smell. 

It’s oddly comforting, and he hates when he accidentally burrows into your pillows; nostrils flared, inhaling that aroma that’s all you. While he’s never talked with you before this, he goes out of his way to ignore you now. 

What he’s doing is fucking weird, and lines are blurring. The other week he’d bumped into you coming out of the bar and he’d almost snatched you to him. 

You must have just showered, because that fucking scent was radiating off your skin. It’s nothing too, eh, feminine? No, it’s more like… oranges and sandalwood. It’s a heady blend of rich balsamic and citrus, and he can’t get it out of his head.

August has faded into September, and he’s still sleeping over at yours. 

He can’t help it. It’s not his fault your bed is so downy and, fuck, cool. It’s like the sheets don’t absorb his warmth. No, they’re always cold and they feel so fucking good against his staples and burned skin. 

It’s midmorning, closer to noon, and he’s dozing, his eyes heavy and drooping. He’s exhausted, so bone tired, that he doesn’t hear your door opening. No, he doesn’t even notice you until he hears your voice.

“Um, would you like to tell me why you’re in my bed?”

He’s on his feet in a flash, a slow flicking of blue flames tracing along his fingers. You’re framed in your doorway, eyes wide, stepping away from his aggressive stance. 

“Woah, woah,” you begin, lifting your hands in supplication. “Let’s just… take a minute and talk. I’m not-”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he snaps, his cerulean eyes narrowing, but he dampens his fire, a long curling of smoke framing his face. 

“Uh, I think you got that backward there, bud. You’re not supposed to be here, I live here,” you scoff, one hand propping on your hip, head tilted exaggeratedly. 

Dabi is about to spit something else out when you stride into your bedroom, tugging your jacket off and sauntering over to a tall dresser. He snaps his mouth closed and watches you. He’s not sure how he’s going to talk his way out of this, and he’s grateful for the reprieve. But, he knows an onslaught of anger or, fuck, preserve him, a lecture is incoming. Worst case, he thinks, observing you from his peripheral as you tug out a long shirt and some shorts, you’ll just kick him out and that will be that. 

You glance at him again, your eyes lingering over his exposed chest and legs, and he can’t help the scowl that breaks over his face. He’s not embarrassed, he’s just, well, he’s not sure how to classify that stare. Most people recoil or toss him a glance of pity, their brows wrinkled with worry and distaste. But you? You arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Fucking weirdo. 

Pausing in your doorway, you bite your lip into your mouth and carefully speak your next statement, voice smooth. “Look, while I’d rather you, oh, I don’t know, asked me about staying here. I’m not in the mood to argue with you, and I’ve got a long journey ahead of me tonight.” You take a deep inhale and toss him another smile. 

“Just… just lay back down and get some rest. I promise I won’t molest you,” you tease, and he snaps his head up at that, his chin jutting in agitation. 

You laugh at his sour face and he feels wrong-footed; lost. What the fuck? Who says shit like that? Who is in their right mind is just, oh, no worries man, promise I won’t grab your dick?

What’s wrong with you?

“I’m going to change and then I’m going to go to sleep. You can go, or you can stay, I really don’t care. All I know is that I’m not going to sleep on the couch when I’m in my apartment.” You retort, that grin still lifting your lips as you step away, the wall shielding you from his view. 

Dabi remains where he is; standing in your bedroom, clad in his boxers, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Somehow this is worse than you throwing him out.

You return a few minutes later and he can’t get a good look at you. You slink past him and are under your covers in an instant. Not that he’s trying to give you a once over, he snarls to himself, shaking his inky head. 

You nestle into the comforter and turn to your side, leaving him plenty of room on the opposite end of the bed. He blinks at you, a deep welling of uncertainty nestling in his stomach. 

You’re quiet for a long moment, your eyes closing and shoulders relaxing, acting like there’s not a wanted, deadly villain in your bedroom, paces from your side. Then, you twist, giving him a quick scan, your eyes lingering over his. 

“Either lay down or get out, Dabi. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you glaring at me like that. You look like some kinda ghost.”

Your declaration provokes a huffing, agitated reaction out of him. If there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s being told what to do. 

He slings himself beside you, splaying out, his body laying on top of the sheets. You chuckle, your head peeking at him over your shoulder. He ignores you and tries to close his eyes. 

It feels strange, resting next to you like this. It’s… intimate, and he’s not sure if he hates or likes the sensation. He chances a glance at you, but you’ve already turned back to your side, your shoulders rising and lowering rhythmically. He shakes his head at your blasé reaction. How can you just, fuck, sleep? 

He can’t get comfortable and his skin feels heavy again. It’s not heat this time. No, now something else is making everything feel too close, too warm. 

He dampens his thoughts, mind frantically focusing on anything but you. As the sun slips behind the buildings across the street, his eyes lower and he fitfully sleeps, your rich smell filling his senses.

He’d left you in the night; tucking his clothes back on and easing out of your window. 

True to your word, you’d relegated yourself to your side of the bed, hardly tossing or turning as you slept. As he paced back to the hideout, he wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. He just hoped you’d keep your mouth shut. He didn’t want the others knowing about this, it felt, well it’s not like him. Abrasive- fucking spewing anger and vitriol? Yeah, that was him. But this? This was too soft, too gentle. He hated it.

But that’s the problem with hate. It’s terribly close to that other emotion. They’re sisters, really. Usually love and hate exist on two sides, but they’re still the same coin, no matter how you toss them. 

You don’t act any differently after that night.

You keep coming to the hideout, giving him a vague smile and greeting before continuing your day. He’s acting differently, though. He can’t help but watch you, suddenly fascinated with how you move. He tries his best to shake himself from his musings, but sometimes he can’t help it. 

If anything, he grumbles to himself, watching you chatter with Toga, you’re subtly going out of your way to place yourself in front of him. You were never around this much before. Well, maybe you were. He didn’t pay you any mind back then, but now? Now he can’t get enough of you. 

He reacts when you laugh, or talk, his head turning, like a sunflower, toward the light you give off. Ugh. His only hopeful reprieve from this, from you, is the changing seasons. The days are getting shorter and that heatwave is finally, finally breaking. 

It’s his one comfort, his saving grace.

Yeah, he should have fucking never tossed that wish into the universe.

No, another heatwave passes over the island and it’s the worst one yet. The daily temperatures have been hitting the low 100s and the nights aren’t much better. To make matters worse, the A/C at the hideout has given up the ghost and won’t turn on at all now. 

Still, Dabi’s prepared. He’d bought a secondhand electric fan a few weeks ago, and he’s grateful for the tiny slice of paradise that it grants him. It’s not as nice as your apartment, or your bed, but it will do.

He’s laying across his mattress, sweat trickling down his back and shoulders, trying to ignore that ache in his burned skin. The fan is blowing across him and he’s about to crank it up a notch when it gives out an ominous sputter. 

Dabi sits up, his eyes flashing. No, no, no, no. There’s no fucking way.

The fan’s blades are slowing, that sweet, cool air dampening, drifting into the low-lying humidity that surrounds him. He yanks the plug from the wall, his staples stinging as he stands. He stomps over to the outlet and plugs the fan back in, turning on his haunches to see if the blades will start that familiar whirl. 

There’s fuck all happening. 

Cursing, he kicks the shitty thing over and grabs his jacket, storming down the stairs and into the night.

You’re sleeping when he slinks under your window sill, sliding the glass shut and kicking his heavy boots to the floor. It’s that sound that wakes you, and you lift yourself up, your sheets falling from your chest, revealing a bare shoulder and low cut shirt to him. Unabashed by your appearance, you wipe a palm over your eyes, rubbing the sleep away and croaking out a greeting. 

“When I said you could sleep over here, I didn’t mean you could barge in at all hours. And through my window? So, that’s why the hinge looks like that.” 

Dabi considers you for a moment, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You tilt your head at him and suck your teeth. 

“A, oh, I don’t know, sorry, would be nice?” you scold, that alluring smile lifting your lips. He follows the line of your mouth, his thoughts hazing over, focusing on some other, darker, daydream.

“Hello?” you call, waving your hand beside your face. “Earth to Dabi. What do you want?”

That question slips him out of his stupor and he lifts his eyes back to yours. “The A/C is out. Bought a fan a few weeks ago, but the fucking thing broke and I can’t… it’s hard to regulate my body temperature in this fucking heat. You keep this place like an icebox, so I started crashing here. Wasn’t planning on coming back, but after tonight-”

“Ok, ok,” you laugh, already scooting over and flinging the covers back. “Seeing as you didn’t try any funny business last time, I guess I’ll let it slide. Just, not to be rude, but shut up and let me sleep. I’ve gotta long day tomorrow and as enthralling as this conversation is…”

“Whatever,” Dabi mutters, slinging his damp shirt over his head and pacing over to the side of your bed. You blink up at him and shake your head, that tiny grin lingering. He presses into your familiar sheets, eyes already slipping closed as the fragrance of you pulls at him.

It’s early when he wakes, shuddering out of a nightmare, red flames and crying voices fading into the back of his mind. 

Wincing, he raises a hand to his eyes and pulls at his face, relieved that it’s still cool air that meets him. As he rolls to his side, he feels something trace over his unscarred chest. The sensation makes him freeze, his eyes snapping open again, the cerulean searching, whisking over the dim figure beside him. 

You’re still sleeping, but you’ve shifted, your body curled, facing him, and one of your hands is reaching toward him. Shit, he thinks, heart pounding in his ears. You’re so close. 

He’s never been this close to you. 

Your mouth is parted, delicate lips plush and soft in the early morning gloom. He tries to shift away, but your brow creases when he does, so he stills his movements, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore that flush that is building across his nose.

This is stupid. It’s just you. It’s not like the two of you have even done anything. Fuck, you barely talk with one another. 

He burrows his head into his pillow and the shift of his body urges you closer to him, your hand opening and pressing to his skin. A sigh slips from your mouth as your fingers splay out, tapping against his warmth, and he nearly startles off the bed.

He looks down at your hand, aghast. He wants to move it off of him; can’t stand that you’re touching him, he tells himself, that you’re this close to him. But he can’t bring himself to move. Your hand is so delicate, so…

Unconscious, you turn from him, your fingers lifting on their own, curling back to you. Dabi almost moans as you slip from him, clamping down on the sudden, primal desire that races through him. He wants to grab you; to drag you back to him. 

The hell? What the fuck is wrong with him?

Sucking his teeth, he turns over, facing away from the confusing neediness that’s lapping at his subconscious. He fluffs his pillow aggressively, trying to drown out all the raw emotions that are racing through his mind.

Forget it. Sleep.

 When he wakes again, you’re gone. 

The sheets where you slept are cold under his fingertips and he sits up, his arms resting on his knees. This whole situation is so fucking weird.

He lets himself ease into consciousness before standing and stretching out the leftover kinks in his muscles; stooping to grab his discarded shirt, pulling the fabric over his head and shaking his dark head against the sunlight. Just as he’s slipping his coat on, he notices the note that’s sitting on one of your bedroom chairs. It’s got his name on it, so he snatches it up, flipping open the folded paper. 

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, I won’t have time to eat it. Help yourself. There’s also a spare key on the coffee table. Take it and stop jimmying my window open.” 

Scoffing, he crumples the paper up, tossing it over his shoulder as he paces into your kitchen.

It’s a fucking thing now. 

He’s rarely at the hideout. Why bother? You don’t seem to care if he sleeps over. Hell, you make space for him. There’s gotta be something else to it; there has to be. What kinda idiot is so fucking accommodating? You act like you’re a fucking hostel or something. Well, a hostel where there’s only one bed. 

You even bought another fan. You told him you don’t like to keep the overhead one on in the cooler weather, so he can use this one for his side of the bed.

Yeah, he’s got a goddamn side of the bed. It’s fucking insane.

The other members of the League either haven’t noticed what’s going on between the two of you, or they don’t care. It’s not like either of you talk about your sleeping habits. Fuck, you still never interact with him at the hideout, content to maintain that level of professionalism.

He’s not sure why it bothers him. 

One night, the temperature drops into the low 40s and he’s stretched out on your blankets, enjoying the first real cold snap of the fall, when he sees you shivering. It’s not very noticeable, what with the way you’re turned away and bundled, but it makes him tilt his head toward you, watching. 

Another pass of his fan has you repeating the quake and, without thinking, he pulls you closer, one long arm wrapping around your shoulder and tugging. Startled, you fight his hold, but he calms your movements with a squeeze, grumbling about your stoic reluctance. 

What’s the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t brushed up against him before. Calm down. 

You quiet after that and slowly, tentatively, you lean against his bare chest, your cheek cool against his heated skin. He tucks his chin over your head and tries to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t want you to hear, fuck, feel his heartbeat; it’s slamming its way out of his throat and he gulps when your fingers pull him closer. 

“How are you so warm?” you ask, your breath floating across his pectorals. 

“It’s my stupid quirk,” Dabi mutters, dipping his head down to his pillow, shifting you with him. You nod against his lean muscles and your fingertips trace cool designs into his skin, lingering over his burnt patches and staples. He sighs, unable to resist the low shiver that creeps up his spine. 

This is nice; too fucking nice.

He can’t do without your touch now.

Remember that thing about love and hate being sisters? Well, that hate is simmering into something else for Dabi. It’s not love, he doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s certainly not hate anymore.

He likes touching you. You’re smooth against his jagged skin and he enjoys the contrast. He’s slow when he pulls you against him, careful to not snag you against his staples, but you seem to like his heat. You’ve even started wearing less to bed, slipping out of that baggy shirt and into a thin tank top; he’s pleased that he has more of you to caress. 

It’s getting harder to keep you out of his head. He can smell your perfume, even if he hasn’t seen you for days, and each time he does see you, even at the hideout, his fingers itch to press against you. 

You’d laughed at his sudden, intense, interest. The hell Dabi, are you touch starved or something? You’d teased. What’s up with you? I was worried about you burning down my apartment, not you turning into some kind of cuddle fiend.

He doesn’t care what you say. He knows it’s fucking stupid, fucking dumb, that he’s this desperate. It just feels good. And there’s not much about him that feels good these days, so he’ll take what he can get. Fuck you very much.

There’s a meeting. It’s one of the ones where Shigaraki demands that everyone make their way to the bar. 

Boss man has been tense lately, thrumming with some dark energy, so the room is quiet as Kurogiri elaborates on the smaller details of the mission. Your part is minimal, limited to reconnaissance with Toga. It’s boring shit, and Dabi is only half listening to any of it.  

Besides, there’s something else that’s snagging his attention. 

Dabi is sitting on the couch, his eyes lingering on you. You’re wearing one of his favorite outfits and the color looks good on you. It brings out your eyes. You’re questioning Spinner and Toga about the finer points of your team up. He can’t hear you from here, but that doesn’t matter, he’s still in the best spot to spy you leaning forward, perfect ass on full display. 

“She’s gotten better, more adept at working undercover,” Compress’ voice shakes Dabi from his thoughts and he turns to him, a bland frown on his face.

“Who?”

“Please, you know who I’m talking about. You can’t stop looking at her.” 

He chortles, his laugh a sharp bark. “You’re fucking joking. Her? Fuck, no. I’m gonna head out, not like the boss has anything for me anyway,” Dabi stands, slipping his hands into his trench coat and pacing to the heavy door, shouldering his way into the night. 

He leans against the brick wall, lighting up a cigarette and sighing a thin line of smoke into the chilled air. Fuck, they’re noticing what’s going on. Wait. What is going on? It’s not like the two of you are fucking. Yet, a small voice echoes in the back of his mind, and he smirks at that thought. 

Yeah, maybe it’s time to speed things up.

You step out a few minutes later, your eyes searching for him. He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and wraps his fingers in your coat, tugging you to him. You don’t fight him; don’t make a sound as he pins you against the brick, his body hot against your front. 

The two of you watch the other, his cerulean eyes roving over your face. Then he’s lifting your chin, his lips sliding across yours. It’s a strange kiss. Usually, he’s too busy trying to get off to focus on his partner. He rarely kisses anyone, even if he’s hooking up. But this kiss? 

Like everything else about you, it’s fucking nice. 

You move with him, your body surging from the brick, breasts flattening against his chest, fingers cupping behind his ears; nipping and sucking at him, your teeth digging into his burned lower lip and pulling. You’re encouraging him to touch you next, rubbing yourself on him until his hands fall to your hips. He’s already half hard, and that warm juncture of your thighs isn’t helping matters.

To his shock, he’s having trouble keeping up. 

You’re already pulling from him when he dips his tongue into your mouth. He gasps at the emptiness, that chilling vacancy that your touch leaves him panting into. Before he can bemoan your absence, you’re kissing at his neck, lifting on your tiptoes to reach the staples on the side of his face. You lick at him, your wet tongue dragging over his burns. He trembles under your hands and you smile, your laugh bright. 

Snarling, Dabi yanks your head back and you meet his hazy gaze, biting your lip; pantomiming a wonton innocence. Immediately, he’s pushing you into the brick, his hands cupping and lingering until you’re whining for him. That’s fucking better, he thinks, his teeth worrying against your pulse. 

Just when he’s got you where he wants you, your hand snakes between the two of you, pressing against the bulge of his dick. Dabi can’t help his sharp intake of air, and his head falls to your shoulder as he ruts into your palm. You keep kissing at the side of his face, your lips roving over his ear as you tug at his covered dick. You’re saying something, but he can’t focus when you’re doing that.

“Dabi,” you try again, teeth ensnaring his destroyed earlobe, sucking at the burnt skin. “They’re about to come out.” 

He knocks your hand away from his straining, throbbing length and leans away from you. Fuck, you look good. 

Your lips are swollen, and your eyes are dazzling. He can’t pull himself away. You smile at his dazed expression and lift a hand to his cheek, your palm cool against his overheated skin.

The door shudders open and the two of you spring apart. A few minutes later Toga is grabbing at your arm and pulling you down the street, away from him.

He’s waiting outside your apartment, another cigarette smoldering to ash under his lips. But he can’t bring himself to go in. 

Not without you. 

Toga’s kept you busy. It’s been over an hour since that kiss in the alleyway. He’s cooled off since then, but that simmering heat that you elicited from him? That hasn’t dimmed. He’s still half hard against his dark pants and he can’t bring himself to care. Besides, Dabi has a very specific idea about how he’s going to have you lessen that pressure for him. 

He’s just about to light another cigarette when he sees you. 

You walk into your building, and he starts the long climb up the fire escape. His heart is pounding again. He hasn’t wanted something this badly in ages. He’s been so fucking focused on his cause, on making his plans a reality; he just hasn’t had the time. 

But now? Fuck, he wants there to be more hours in the day. He’s hoping the two of you can pick up where you left off. Yeah, he tells himself, scaling the last few steps, it’s just about the sex. 

That sounds better than saying what he really wants. 

You’re already slipping your oversized sleep shirt over your head when he lifts your window. You pause, watching him curl his way into your space. Once he pulls his legs inside he turns to you, his eyes dark, unfathomable, the blue so deep that you feel you’re drowning in it. 

He doesn’t shut the window. Instead, he yanks his clothes off, clattering them against your floor. You smile and a gentle laugh makes its way to him. 

“What did I say about coming in through the window?” you chuckle, already lifting your arms for him. 

He’s against you in a single breath, his warmth seeping its way into your chilled skin. His lips are rough, pressing and lifting, biting and nipping. He’s working you toward your bed and once your knees hit the edge of your mattress, he’s shoving you down. 

You flop against the cold blankets, your legs already spreading for his hips. He’s hot, scaldingly hot, against your hands. Your fingers dip into his hair and you pull him back, earning a low growl and his flashing glare, displeasure written all over his face. 

“Slow down,” you scold, your legs wrapping around his hips, grinding against the hardness you find. 

“The fuck? You goddamn tease. Fucking saying that, then rubbing your wet pussy all over my dick,” Dabi snarls, snatching your wrists and pinning your hands beside your head.

“How do you know it’s wet?” you ask, batting your eyes at his steeled jaw. 

“It fucking better be,” he groans, his teeth sinking into your neck and pressing, hard. 

You gasp at the stimulation and arch for him, testing his hold on your wrists. Grunting, he licks a wet line to your pulse, his hands tightening over yours. “Mmm, why don’t you find out?” you ask, leaning into his lips, loving the contrast of his destroyed and perfect skin. 

He shifts his grip on you, yanking your arms up, pinning your hands above your head. He lifts one of his own hands away once he’s satisfied he’s got a good hold on you. His warm fingers trace down your side, pausing when he gets to the lacy band of your panties. Teasingly, he pulls fabric away from your skin, and lets it snap against your hip. Dabi tips his nose into the curve of your neck and shoulder, taking a deep drag against you. 

You buck your hips, squirming under his weight. “You get lost? My pussy is a little further down.” 

He chuckles darkly, his breath making you shiver. You’re just about to wriggle from him when one long finger eases past your panties and presses into your sopping heat. “Oh,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. It feels like he’s heated his fingertip, and the skin that’s stroking and thrusting into you is warm, too warm. 

Dabi leans away from your neck, bracing himself above you with his knees, pulling himself into a hunched position. He’s smirking at your awed expression and his teeth glow in the darkness. 

“Like I said doll, you’re already so fucking wet for me. You want more?”

You nod and buck your hips, digging that finger deeper. He groans at your eagerness and you can feel him warming the next digit up, the tip burning against the soft flesh of your inner thighs. 

Once it’s in, he starts to v the two, dragging them along your rippling walls, spreading you open, easing you into his hand. Your slick is sliding down your legs and seeping into the sheets. Still, Dabi keeps on, maintaining that steady stretch. It starts to sting and you shift away, but he releases your wrists, free hand moves to your hip, stilling you. 

You glance up at him, curious. His eyes are hooded, the blue a velvety sapphire. He looks like he’s holding himself back from something. Almost like… like he’s handling you with more care than he’s ever given anything. It’s a strange thought, but the idea of it makes you reach for him, your fingers running down his discolored skin, lingering over the staples and piercings. 

“I’ve gotta stretch you out,” he informs you, his eyes closing behind his trembling eyelids, savoring your gentle caress. 

“Hmm, you that big?” you joke, fully expecting him to react, to silence you with a kiss or another well-timed thrust of his fingers. But he surprises you. He opens his eyes and fixes you with a rough stare, his digits continuing that aching pull. You’re throbbing around him, your arousal easing his passage, his extensions. 

“I don’t want to… hurt-” he stops, his eyes narrowing. With an inaudible sigh, he slides down your body, only halting once he’s face to face with your sleek cunt. His breath heaves against you and you wrap a leg over his back, holding him close. 

Dabi laves his tongue over you, latching onto your pulpy clit and giving it a soft suck. Your hands sink into his hair, curling into the spiky tendrils, urging him to give you more.  

He rewards your needy moans with another lick and he flicks his eyes up to yours, watching you over your shaking curves. 

“I’m going to add another finger,” he tells you, preparing you for another deep stretch. When he enters you almost pull from him, your hips bowing away at the pricking of pain. Sensing your distress, he keeps his lips around your pulsing clit, distracting you with kisses and low blows of air. 

Finally, you can feel yourself loosening. Your feet brace against your bed and you use the leverage to maneuver him deeper. You feel, you feel so…

Dabi, realizing that your cunt is quivering around his intruding digits, shifts closer, his piercings rubbing against your thighs. He’s sloppy now, less controlled. His tongue is circling your clit with furious laps and he lets a canine trace the bud. His fingers are still spreading and he’s found that spongy spot now. He taps against it, teasing you, making you clench and gasp around him. 

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, when it seems like all the sensations are too, too, much; it snaps. The coiling in your core pulls free and you’re moaning, so loudly you’re worried your neighbors will hear. His name is falling from your lips at a rapid rate and you can feel his smirk as he lifts his fingers from your cunt. 

Dabi leans away and you shake at the loss of him. He was so warm, so hot against your damp skin and you miss it. He watches you, tucking his fingers into his mouth, lapping the final bits of your release from him. 

“Take off your clothes,” he demands when he’s finished, his hands already dropping to his tented boxers, slipping the elastic down his trim waist. 

You shift to obey, your hands yanking your shirt, bra and soaked panties off of you. You splay under him, indolently admiring the sight that is revealed to you. Oh, you think, unable to contain your small gasp, he is big. 

His cock is long, thick, and curved, and it’s dripping with pre-cum. There’s a crossed set of piercings at the tip of his length and you watch, mesmerized, as a shimmering strand of his arousal catches on the shiny silver, leeching down the smooth length of him. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and that thought makes you shiver with anticipation, and a small sliver of worry.  

Dabi grins wildly at your flushed face. “Like what you see?” 

You nod, and he laughs, fingers snatching your legs, tugging you toward him. You spread for him, so eager and fucking turned on you can’t think straight. His hand lowers to his cock, and he strokes himself as he rechecks your silken cunt, gathering some of the gossamer strands of your arousal on his fingers as he ensures that you’re ready to take him. 

“I’m not going to go slow,” he warns you, his eyes lifting from your folds. 

Gulping and biting your lip, you nod, a shaking exhale escaping your lungs. He shifts himself nearer and begins to press. He’s right, you think, wincing at the sting of his intrusion. He’d stretched you out, licked you until you were leaking all over the bed, but it hurts. 

It takes him a moment to bottom out. Once he does, he groans and gasps above you. “Fuck (Y/N), you’re so damn tight.” 

You flop your head against your pillow and let out a long sigh. He’s holding still as you adjust, and, despite his warning, he’s being careful with you. It makes your chest squeeze. After a few more pained breaths, you can feel a low tingling radiating from your core. It’s like an itch. Experimentally, you cant your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist, cautious of the stapled skin across his lower back. 

Dabi mutters a soft curse and pulls back, his length sliding out of your drenched pussy. When he glides back in, you feel that same tingling sensation. Distantly, you realize it must be those piercings of his, but you’re too overwhelmed by the sensation to process it fully. 

“Hold on,” he groans, his hands bracing beside your head. You lace your arms around his bowed neck, and he starts to pounds into you. It’s a calculated motion, but- ah- he’s taking the extra second between his powerful pulls and thrusts to scrape his pelvis against your pulsating clit, stimulating you, ensuring that dim blaze pleasure within you keeps building. Whimpering, you arch your back, your ankles locking around him, encouraging him to keep going. You feel so good, so full, filled to the brim and practically begging him for more. 

Sloppily, his mismatched lips find yours and he nibbles and kisses at you. The sheer heat of him is making you both slick with sweat. You don’t mind the salty, dampened feeling, if anything, it eases his motions. 

You’re so wet now that he’s gliding easily into you; that piercing of his heating up, and the rapid fire thrusts he’s giving you create a smoldering inside you; like he’s catching you on fire from the inside out. 

His hips stutter and he lifts one hand from the bed, his thumb easily finding your clit. He presses a tight circle across you and you see spots. 

“Come on,” he groans, his voice hoarse, strained, “cum for me (Y/N). Fucking cum on my dick.” 

That desperation in his tone is all that it takes. 

Seconds later, you’re arching and shaking so much that he has to hold you still. He eases into you a final time, his frantic thrusts slowing, spacing out as he enjoys your rippling channel, and the fiery feeling of his own release almost hurtles you over the edge again. You curl against him, panting into his burnt ear, licking at the damaged skin.

Dabi leans heavily against you, one large hand pressing into your lower back, lifting you to him. Once he comes back to himself, he kisses at your shoulder, his warm breath making you shiver. He eases himself out of you and your legs clamp together, holding his cum inside you. It still feels so, so hot, and you’re not ready to let it drip out of you, not yet. 

He untangles himself from you and adjusts some of his staples, wincing against the sting of his marred and clean flesh. Realizing what he’s doing, you slip from the bed and pad into your bathroom. You clean yourself off and grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, dampening a clean cloth with the solution. 

“Here. It’s got some peroxide on it,” you tell him as you reenter the bedroom, tossing the rag his way. He catches it easily, dabbing it over himself, careful to not snag it on any of his loose skin. While he’s busy doing that, you snatch up his discarded white shirt and sling it over your head. He looks at you and scoffs. 

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asks, tossing the cloth onto the floor.

“Yours looked better,” you inform him, returning to his side and leaning close. He rolls his eyes at you and you shift into his open lap, straddling his hips. Grinning, you kiss at his neck again, sneaking a few groans from him. Sighing as you give him a particularly hard nip, he bats you off of him, tumbling you down to the sheets. 

“Give me a fucking minute,” he complains, shaking his head as you wrap around him, pulling him into your arms. Once he’s settled onto the bed you turn, pressing your back to his chest, relaxing into the familiar hold. He snorts, amused by your sudden change of mind. 

Dabi lowers his forehead to the back of your head, a small smile rising along his lips. Your breathing evens out and he listens to the sound, trying to memorize each little detail of you.

Yeah, this is it, he tells himself as he drifts off. The rest is just extra. Oh, it’s nice, to be sure, but this, this right here is what he really wants.

Notes: Soft, soft Dabi. I like him like this ꒰ ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ ˖°  

Tags: @evesmores, @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx

[blackberry-gingham]

Ashes to Ashes

Vamp!Gambit vs Blade

The world's most prolific vampire hunter. The man who can create bombs from mere paper. The mutant turned vampire means well out in the streets of the night, even whilst obeying his bloodlust craving- but to a man like Eric Brooks, "well enough" is hardly an excuse to leave even one suckhead walking.

Not even an ex-hero.

Tags: Vampire-Au, Major character death (but I won't tell you who mwhahaha)

Taglist: @greenheart99 @samatedeansbroccoli (this isn't THE vamp!gambit fic, but I happened to finish this first so lol) Enjoy

---

"What is you doin'!", Gambit scurries off back, nails scraping the moldy cement of the alley, a hand dabbing at the blood seeping from his jaw. It's been a long while since he's taken a hit like that- "Gambit been helpin' you!"

Skriiiiiiiii-

Blade, the hand behind the Gambit's wound, growls in the lowlight. His katana grazes the very same street- glinting in the haze, it sparks the trail he walks, "And how's that?"

Gambit jumps to his feet in a huff, dusting off his armor and snapping out either hem of his duster. Blade strafes closer and closer- until the other man joins him in stepping that circle. Remy growls, "I been aft'a vamps too- We on da same side!"

Blade growls back, "Yeah? And what about the trail of humans you sucked on your way to all them vamps?"

Gambit scoffs, "Why do you care? They's was all street trash- Dealers. Murderers. Criminals! Ain't no one gonna mis-"

A flash of silver. A ring of metal. Blade twirls his katana, then steadies its cry along the palm of his hand. With a fanged sneer, "They were people- Fucker. Now they're just like you. Killing- Just like you"

The two men stop sharply, one on either side of their deadly ring. Gambit snarls harshly at the accusation. Blade remains steady-

Slowly... Slowly... The mutant reaches towards his breast pocket, "Gambit taken out plenty of vampires in these streets- Mo' den enough to make up for the piss-blood he drank", he spits on the ground then offers one more, lip quivering snarl, "Don' make him take out da Daywalker too"

A slow grin glides over Blade's fangs at the challenge. He flexes his fingers twice. Beckoning. Challenging- right back, "Give it your best shot-"

An array of glowing cards shoots out from Gambit's hand, all three erupting in the empty space where his opponent stood. Reflexes alight, Blade jumps into a spin overhead. When he lands, his katana cuts down on the target spot- But the Cajun has reflexes all his own. The katana rings against the air, missing the mutant by a margin. Only so.

Gambit dives out of the way, landing out of the roll and back on his feet. He has scant time to recover- not before a sliver boomerang gives chase. Gambit arches backwards, bending unnaturally at the knee as the blade just misses the buttons of his coat. At the height of his momentum, he shifts the tide and falls into a handspring-

One palm to the earth, the other shooting out a card from his sleeve.

The lucky shot explodes just left of the Daywalker's head. His ears ring. His vision blurs. Somewhere into the darkness, his shades skitter off from the blast- Eric recovers with a snarl, two bright eyes glaring through the darkness. The distraction is short, but just enough to allow the mutant to employ his bo-staff.

Gambit snarls with delight, a cocky huff of laughter at the ready as he gives his weapon a flashy twirl- every turn a mirror of the taunt from Blade himself just moments before. The Daywalker gives a quick sneer- unimpressed at the childish display.

The two vampires roar- where Gambit goes to charge, Eric thinks quicker. From his side, his sub gun illuminates the alley in short bursts of silver rain. Two bullets glance off Gambit's chest plate.

Lucky- For now.

A few more he dodges. Fewer still he deflects with his staff, mutant power and vampiric gift sending his reflexes soaring.

Eric fires a few more bursts, strutting closer all the time. Forcing his opponent back, back, back... If only he could crack that damn armor- Mother fucker would be dust.

Remy bides his time, but there's hardly spare a moment to even think in all this. He deflects all he can, but at this range- even a vampirically charged mutant can only react so fast. A set of bullets ping off his armor. Then another three. Then one more that burrows more then bounces.

It seems to burn him at his very soul-

Gambit clutches his chest with a free hand, nearly doubled over at the shock. Blade growls savoring the taste of fear that fills the air- The fear of the Cajun. The worry... The realization, that he may not be as invincible as he thought. With a wicked grin on his face, Eric drops his sub and draws his katana all in one motion.

"Gotcha-"

Like a bullet shot from rifling, the Daywalker spirals through the air with supernatural speed. The tip of his sword carves but a notch where it connects with Gambit's chest plate- a strike that would otherwise seal one's fate, is knocked up into the air with the bunt of a staff.

Sharp silver.

Rolled metal.

The two weapons struggle against each other, one barely holding off it's enemy.

Grappling face to face- mere spitting distance from the other... Eric growls, bearing down with all his strength behind his sword. Gambit grunts, a thread of uncertainty breaking his confidant front. For all his own gifts, both innate and obtained- he struggles under the force.

Gambit shuffles both hands, searching for a better grip on the staff- the beads of sweat finally begin to break as they bead down his face. He huffs harshly, flicking sickly, bitter droplets onto the face of his opponent.

"How's that Daywalker kill going?", Blade taunts, applying just a little... more... pressure.

With a growl Gambit spits back, "All I need... Is one touch- An' you's gone, Mon Ami", his eyes glow their mutated, purple light- and with a roar he shoves the Daywalker off, breaking the stalemate. One move to the next, with a fighting fluidity that seems so wrong for the undead to poses, Gambit knocks the katana into the darkness with a sharp strike to Eric's wrist.

Blade roars in pain- A slip that will cost him.

With the Daywalker unarmed... Gambit's eyes glow vibrantly, charged with power that descends down his spine, through his arm and, at last, to the tips of his fingers. Deadly power- Two fingers strut together, darting straight to Blade's throat, glowing with purple energy and just itching for a target to infect.

This is it. This is his moment, his victory- He has disposed of countless vampires this way. All he needs is an unliving object... A card of paper. A piece of rock. To charge it up, and blow it to hell. Anything-

And wouldn't you know? The bodies of the undead serve just well enough.

His kinetic charge radiates against Eric's skin in a blast of magenta light... before dissipating harmlessly into the night.

It's only the sheer confusion upon the Cajun's face that allows the fight to stand this still-

Blade looks up slowly to meet Gambit's gaze, from fingers to black, shimmering eyes. The two share a look, each one holding very different expressions- Eric Brooks smiles, "Nice try...", his condescending taunt hangs in the air for just a moment, "But I ain't undead"

Gambit hisses, enraged. He's already missed once- He can't afford another minute lost. The words have hardly left the Daywalker's mouth before Gambit charges another two finger strike, this one aimed for Brook's armored vest...

But the Daywalker is too quick.

Flipping back with a parting kick, Gambit's head rings after tasting the Daywalker's boot. A hand already in the pocket of his long, black coat- Blade lands a safe distance away with a parting few words on his lips, "You wanna touch something so bad?"

Gambit does not respond- This is over. He reaches for more cards from his own jacket. His eyes glow, ready to deliver charge. He winds up his toss, an-

"Touch this- Freak"

A silver stake whistles through the air from behind a curtain of leather, as all the strength of a vampire slayer propels it on. All those little dents. All those weak spots. The bullets did their job- Now he'll do his.

The stake's biting tip connects with a weakened pinpoint in Gambit's armor-

It's through.

Not a second lost... Gambit crumples, tensing up and around the nail in his chest. He looks down at the stake- The burning, hallowed stake... then up at the Daywalker.

And all he can think is... it's over.

The insatiable hunger. The hunting. The killing-

He can finally rest.

With a wail of agony, like dry tinder to a hungry flame, Remy burns from the inside. In a flash of orange fire, the shadow of his bones appears black against the holy light- and when even that has burned pure, the unnatural fire finishes with a whisp of purple, until all that's left...

are the ashes.

[ghostnebula]

Okay, my brain latched onto to Neibolt Richie & Eddie & the phrase "Parent trap it up" & spit out a whole au where, like, IT laid eggs like in the novel but some of them either were laid or hatched early in 1989, and those offspring were the neibolt/monster versions of different characters (so Betty, Eddie, Richie, & Bev for sure, possibly also Georgie (Also I've decided this is a Georgie Lives au.)). I'm assuming that IT can sense fear, which implies IT might be able to sense other emotions 1/?

(Neibolt Kids crack au) Given that the emotions first felt when seeing the Neibolt kids almost certainly wasn't pure fear (Bill & Richie were concerned for Betty, Ben felt fond towards fake Bev at first), I think it would be interesting if they basically imprinted on the Losers, & as a result viewed humans as people rather than food. Esp if some of the Losers basically react as "Aww, little monster babies!" (This is why I said Georgie lives, otherwise it's fucked up instead of crack)

I ADORE the concept of "good" Neibolt Losers/Neibolt kids interacting with and even befriending the original Losers, so this is right up my alley.

I spent a while thinking about all the different dynamics this would produce and I have decided that probably the best one is Neibolt Eddie following along at Richie's heels wherever he goes because Neibolt Eddie and original Richie's first interaction was Neibolt Eddie luring Richie to him and the feeling of WANTING to follow (and the love obviously) kind of just. Stuck. So Neibolt Eddie follows Richie around like a lovesick puppy bc he can't shake the feeling, and the funniest part is that it's so similar to how the original Richie and Eddie act around each other that the other Losers almost wouldn't be able to tell the difference if Neibolt Eddie would wash his damn face and put some clean clothes on once in a while.

Also little Neibolt Eddie running around barefoot all the time, and Eddie trying to pin him down and make him wear shoes before he steps on a rusty nail or cuts himself playing in the woods and gets fucking gangrene or something. It doesn't work. His anxiety levels are through the roof watching his grimy little doppelganger prance around barefoot in the Barrens. Nothing to do with the imprinting thing I'm just thinking about it lol

Oh but on a much more sad note, Neibolt Richie probably thinks original Richie doesn't like him because the first emotions he felt during their first interaction were probably horror and disgust or something, which like... is fair, obviously.

But anyway Neibolt Eddie eats worms and other bugs, probably. When he discovers he can make people pay him to do this, because teenagers are all idiots and will make bets on anything, AND he discovers that money can be exchanged for goods and services (i.e. sugary garbage drinks that rot your teeth and taste way better than worms) he makes absolute fuckin bank off of it. The room above Eddie's garage that I've decided Neibolt Eddie lives in is littered with pop cans and candy wrappers. Poor Eddie is like the stressed mother of the century trying to figure out how the fuck he's gonna pay these dental bills (but Went probably has them covered).

[hotchley]

15 from love prompts with hotchniss (romantic if not implied lol)

and maybe hand write my url? love you <3

Love you too <3 find your url handlettered here!

This starts off whumpy, but it does have a happy ending! For once! I think this is the first nice ending Hotchniss fic I've ever written, so everybody say "Thank you Raegan!" 1227 words, no proofreading, usual shebang that goes here.

15: "thank you." /" for what?" / "loving me." / "it's not difficult."

Trigger Warnings: canon-typical violence/events, blood mention, hospitals, trauma response, slight implication of self destructive behaviour right at the end

read on ao3!

"No," he says. Even before she's finished her sentence. It's a testament to just how well he knows her and her brain.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," she sighs. It's a stupid thing to say. Because she knows what he's rejecting. It's the exact plan she's about to suggest.

He raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing her. "Oh? Fine. What were you going to say?" He isn't trying to undermine her. He views her as his equal, always has. But he can't let her do this. Not now. It's too risky.

She rolls her eyes, knowing she's caught. "That I should go in to try and get the unsub to confess."

"And that's what I'm saying no to," he says, voice completely level. Too level. He's hiding his emotions. Well, hiding them more than usual. And she understands his fear. Really, she does, because she feels it every time he puts himself in danger. But they don't have any other options. Not if they're going to get the unsub.

"Aaron," she whispers.

He flinches away. "Don't. Not here. Not now. Please." His voice breaks on the last word, a small crack in his armour that only she is allowed to peek behind.

The sheriff looks between them, so close without even realising, and the rest of the team, who are watching them with a collective look of sad resignation. They all know how this is going to end. It won't be pretty, but it will end in one way and one way only.

"We don't have any other options. I'm the unsub's type. I'm the only one who can go in there and get close to him. You know that," she says, loud enough for everyone else to hear. She's right. He just doesn't want to admit it.

"There has to be another way," he says.

"There isn't," Emily snaps, with more force than intended.

Aaron looks down.

"She's right. If we want to catch the unsub without endangering a civilian, then that's the only way," Dave says. When Aaron glares, he just shrugs, like he already knows how this ends. In fairness, everyone does. Even Aaron. He's just not ready.

"So, are we all agreed? Agent Prentiss will get the unsub to confess. My officers will be there as back-up," the Sheriff says.

"Thank you," Derek chimes in, when it becomes clear nobody else is going to. They're all watching Aaron, who is rubbing his thumb against his forefinger and clenching his jaw. He leaves without another word. Emily sighs, but follows.

"What's really going on?" She asks, when she finds him in the other conference room. He's looking at their board, but as she approaches, she sees that he's not taking any of the information in. He's staring at it so his tears don't fall.

"I can't lose you as well. Not now," he whispers. He's fiddling. She looks down. There's a very faint tan line where the ring Haley slipped onto his finger all those years ago used to sit. Of course. How could she have forgotten? The anniversary of her death is coming up. Jack is coping fine for the moment, but Aaron clearly isn't.

"You're not going to. Not tonight. Not any time soon. I promise." She can't, not really, but Aaron smiles regardless. But that smile, like everything in this world, comes at a price.

The last thing she hears before her world goes black is her name being screamed by a man that has already lost too much.

The first thing she sees when her eyes open again is a light almost too bright to be real. "My head-" she groans, as her eyes finally adjust to the sudden change of environment.

"We know. You got hit. Hard enough for there to be blood," the doctor tells her.

"Oh. Wait, what happened?" She can't remember anything after twirling her hair to get the unsub to misjudge her.

"Unsub realised who you were and what you were up to. He ran, you followed, so did the rest of us. Then you got trapped in an alley and he hit you in the head with a brick that had fallen. One of the officers managed to tackle him as he left," Derek explains. He's sitting in the chair beside her bed, holding a cup of coffee.

"I thought I heard Hotch," she says.

Derek nods. "He ran after you as well. Sheriff was really pissed off that he gave us all away- because you were chasing the unsub, I don't think he ever clocked that the rest of us were following behind you. But we got the guy. Everyone's safe."

"I'm glad."

Derek can tell that she needs to have a conversation with Aaron. He always can. He's a good friend like that. So he simply smiles, stands, and kisses her forehead before leaving.

Whilst he's gone, the doctors ask Emily all of their usual questions and run the various tests required. It concerns her. Not that she's been asked to stay overnight, she knew that was happening as soon as she came round, but that Derek has been gone long enough for all of that to happen. He comes back shortly after the doctor leaves, and he gives Aaron a quick but comforting hug before going over the team.

"Hey sweetness," he says from the doorway. He looks terrible. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are red from tears.

"Oh my darling," she croaks, and he immediately goes over to her.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, kneeling by her side.

"I've been better. But I've also been worse, so it's fine."

He smiles.

"Aaron, I'm sorry."

"Don't. It's not your fault. I'm just glad you're alive and okay. When you collapsed- I couldn't hold it in. I just couldn't."

"I'm okay now though. We're all okay."

She carries on stroking his cheek until he nods. "I brought some of your favourite books from the hotel. Which one would you like me to read?"

"Did you bring Pride and Prejudice?" She asks.

Hotch looks stunned. "Well yes, but that's my favourite, not yours-"

"Read that to me."

"Are- are you sure?"

Emily smiles. "Of course I am." She rolls slightly, so Hotch can lay beside her. When he gets in, she rests her head on his shoulder, not even attempting to read the words over his shoulder.

When he reaches the end of the third page, she realises she needs to say something. She sits up, bumping his shoulder in the process, and he pauses. "Sweetness?"

"Thank you," she says.

"For what?" He asks, because it's not just about the fact that he's reading to her. It's more than that.

"Loving me."

"It's not difficult."

And he's not lying. Not in the slightest. She smiles and kisses his shoulder, then lies back down. As he reads, laying beside her like it's the most comfortable place in the world, she strokes his hair, smiling whenever he leans into the touch a little more.

Tomorrow they will talk. About how she endangered herself like that. About how all his fears worsen when it gets closer to an anniversary of something bad. About everything. Today, they are going to hold each other close, and be content with the fact that they are together, alive and in love.

[itsclydebitches]

Hey Clyde, did you check out Wonder Egg Priority at all? The first ep is super promising, but the series as a whole is one of those real fascinating disasters from a story and a production standpoint that might be up your alley as a thing to pick apart haha.

I’d warn that it’s also reeeeal offensive and this generally gets worse as it goes though.

Hi, Phoenix! How are you and Cube doing?

Okay, I hadn't watched Wonder Egg Priority when I received your ask this morning. Now I have. In a fit of intense curiosity I settled down for a rare binge session and tore through all twelve episodes + OVA in a single sitting. It is now nearly 3:00am as I write this because I, oh so clearly, make fantastic life choices.

A question for you: what did I just watch?

The rest is going under a read more partly for spoilers, but more-so because WEP—and the summary I'm about to give, because I feel like I need to try and explain this to tumblr's faceless void for my own, dwindling sanity—comes with about every trigger warning under the sun. Seriously, if you are triggered by anything that we might think of as a "standard" trigger (meaning, not unique to you and your own experiences), best to proceed with caution.

Right! What the ever loving fuck happened in this show? Well, let's work through this chronologically. Two genius, frat boy brothers (I get their names mixed up so I'm not even gonna bother) are locked in their apartment and closely monitored because of Super Secret Science Research. Even though, I think, they're the ones who created this company. Not important! What is important is that they're bored enough to create an AI for funsies, thinking of her as their daughter and letting her name herself Frill. Frill is the perfect, cutesy, also genius child who has a habit of popping her lips — which the camera focuses on in an incredibly creepy fashion. One day Brother #1 (the hot one) falls in love with a random woman we know nothing about and Frill gets jealous.

"Jealous in a general sense?" you ask, thinking this show is in any way normal. "Like, just of her Dad giving attention to someone else?"

"No," I respond, patting your hand. "Jealous because she's in love with him." Which, beyond the subject matter itself, comes completely out of nowhere. Frill has a line about what you'd do if some woman stole your husband away. I, fool that I was, briefly considered that these two guys were lovers, not brothers. Oh no. They're brothers. Frill just considers Dad #1 to be her "husband."

So, in true evil AI fashion, she murders the wife, leaving only her newly born child behind. Who is a daughter.

Uh oh.

Dad #1 locks Frill in a coffin-esque hole in the basement and goes on with his life. Things are great! Until years later when the daughter reveals that she has fallen in love with her uncle (Dad #2 to Frill). She knows (somehow??) that both her dad and her uncle loved her mom, so if the loser uncle will just wait a few years he can marry her instead! He brushes her off, but the next day she’s found dead of an apparent suicide.

Realizing that this was somehow Frill’s doing, he marches down to the basement and confronts the murderous child they’ve had locked up for years. She’s now surrounded by screens in, again, true creep AI fashion. How did she get all this while she was locked up? Oh, just the three bug girls she created as friends prior to killing the wife. They’re devoted slaves, I guess. So the uncle says enough of this insanity and seemingly sets Frill on fire.

OH and Frill’s subtitled dialogue also puts “uncle” in quotation marks, implying that the daughter was always Dad #2’s??

Anyway, both brothers are now super obsessed with death and claim that they think Frill has had a hand in lots of girls’ suicides, even now after her own death. This is brought into question later when it’s revealed that they might have just concocted this scheme to try and bring back their daughter. I’m really not sure. Regardless, they use hand-wavey science to create eggs that I guess contain the souls of young girls who have committed suicide, then they sucker in other young girls who have lost people to suicide to try and rescue their loved ones in a dream world, saving others along the way. A tomboyish girl, Momoe, lost a classmate who admitted to loving her, but who Momoe rejected. Rika, a former junior idol, used and rejected an overweight fan only to learn later that she’d starved herself to death. Neiru, the 14yo president of some science company (yup) was attacked by her sister before she jumped off a bridge. Finally Ai, our protagonist, is a victim of bullying who managed to make friends with a single girl, Koito, who then jumped from their school building for unknown reasons. They’re all given the chance to bring these individuals back to life, provided they protect other victims of suicide by defeating the monstrous traumas that drove them to that act in the first place.

And you know what? That concept was great. However, the execution ranges from “Okay, that was pretty good for an anime. Kudos there” to “That’s the most offensive thing I’ve seen in my life.” Needless to say, unpacking all the battles they fight would take a lot more than this already absurd summary. Basically, if you can think of something horrible to happen to young girls (and one trans guy whose existence in that egg undermines the whole message of the episode), there’s an attempt to tackle it here.

During all this the four girls become friends and Ai works through her suspicions about Mr. Sawaki, a teacher at her school. What’s going on with Mr. Sawaki? Uh… everything! He’s somehow connected to Koito’s death, he’s dating Ai’s mom, and Ai apparently loves him too because her friends say so, even though this is never actually addressed and she barely interacts with him. It’s all quite the complication.

In time though the girls complete their “mission” of bringing their loved ones back to life. Rika and Momoe manage it first, only to find that Frill’s bug-girl lackeys have arrived to kill them. Why? Because that’s what Frill does, I guess. Momoe’s crocodile familiar (cute animals the girls were gifted to help them fight) takes a killing blow for her and the bug-lady then proceeds to carve up his corpse and force feed it to Momoe. Fantastic!! Building off of that, the next bug-lady who Rika encounters kills her turtle too, following in the footsteps of her bug-sister by, presumably, forcing her to eat parts of its head. Ai refuses to sacrifice her familiar to stay alive, but luckily the suicide she was protecting turns out to be herself from a parallel universe (that's a thing now!) and she takes the killing blow herself, which is done by pulling out the eye she’s sensitive about (she has heterochromia.) So parallel Ai passes on (again?) and the three girls don’t work through this trauma at all, instead becoming more traumatized through the realization that the loved ones they brought back no longer remember them. They’re alive, but the relationship they all had with them is dead.

It’s about this point that the main storyline wraps up and I’m relieved that there’s an OVA to finish things off. Surely they can somehow bring this all together in 45 minutes.

…25 minutes of that OVA is recap.

So with only about 20 minutes left, we learn that Neiru, the only one to not complete her mission yet, has mysteriously gone missing. It turns out she was an AI/clone/something all along, made to replace her sister and, presumably, that’s what caused the whole stabbing-suicide incident. She successfully brings her sister back, but stays behind in the dream world because Frill promises her she can become human. How is Frill here when she’s dead? How will Neiru become human? Isn’t Frill the “temptation of death” or whatever? There are no answers. A flashback finally reveals that Koito was having a relationship with a teacher at another school, he committed suicide, she transferred, she tried the same thing with Mr. Sawaki, he kept refusing her advances, and finally while threatening suicide to get his attention, she accidentally fell.

(So why was she in the suicide egg if it was an accident??)

Except, all this information comes through Mr. Sawaki himself, there’s a whole subplot about whether he’s really a villain, or if Ai is just making him into one, and this show might as well be titled How Much Pedophilia Can We Put into One Anime? So make of that what you will.

A dead character randomly shows up, but it's fine because she's actually just a version from a parallel world. How did she get here? Why is she here? Lol, it's cute that you think these are answered.

Rika, the character who cuts and almost committed suicide halfway through the show, breaks down saying how much she misses her dead loved ones, right after her friends refused to let her go on another mission that would surely end in her death and… that’s it. That’s all we get about her.

Momoe too, though she’s hopefully just vibing somewhere with that longed-for boyfriend.

Ai transfers schools and then one day randomly remembers that she loves Neiru and rushes back to start cracking eggs again because that will? Somehow?? Let her see Neiru???

When I say there are too many unanswered questions to possibly list here I really, really mean it.

Finally, in a personal attack on me, the protagonist with a name that is literally AI is not in any way an artificial intelligence.

And that’s it! Congratulations, you now “understand” WEP. And see, the funny thing is that the off-the-rails, bat-shit crazy aspects kind of catch you off guard? Yeah, the first episode is fantastic. In fact, I think I got through about six episodes thinking that this was a solid, if at times really messed up anime, but I was willing to shrug off a lot of stuff due solely to the amount of sensitive material they were attempting to cover (which is always quite difficult to do). Probably the only reason I was able to binge so fast was because the first half of the series was so engaging. The characters are charming. The animation is GORGEOUS. There's actually a ton of good here that is also worth yelling about. But then the plot comes in like a freight train and I was left staring dumbfounded at my screen as more and more insanity kept happening. Having watched the "explanations" I am now more confused about the show I just saw.

Phoenix, if you’ve bothered to read this rambling, 3:00am rant: thank you. I think? Idk if I should actually be thanking you or cursing you for tuning me into this, but it was definitely an experience, that’s for sure lol.

I'm off to bed now RIP the chance of having normal dreams ✌️

[queeen-goldfish]

5 Stages of A Heartbreak 1/5

A/N- I did something like this a couple of years ago but I got a little insecure about it and deleted my whole account... over one story. However I found some of the plot and decided to rewrite it. My lovely friend read it and gave me the confidence I need to repost it. I hope you enjoy it!

Category~ ANGST (my fav lol) 

WARNING (Triggers) - A tiny description of a Panic Attack 

Peter Parker Masterlist

   “Please. I- I don’t have anything, just please don’t hurt me.” you pleaded with the robber who was currently holding you at knife point. How did you get in this situation? Lord knows, but no matter where you were, trouble was always around the corner. 

The man pushed his head back with a laugh, allowing the smell of alcohol to escape his mouth  invading your senses. “Come one now darling don’t give me that crap” the robber spat as he began to get close to you. "You were just asking to be hurt. I mean what sane person goes through an alley all by themselves in the middle of the night , huh?” he asked you, sliding the knife down your cheek causing a chill to run down your spine. He opened his mouth once again only to be cut off by a familiar voice,

“Hey now why wasn’t I invited to the hang out”  

’Oh thank God, it's Peter’ you thought to yourself. To afraid to move you stared at the multicolored brick wall accompanied by the rusted fire escape that looked too old to do any real good in any real emergency, 

“Spider-man?” The robber questioned looking around trying to place a location on the young hero. Spider-man gasped dramatically, “You know who I am? Who would have known I had fans around this part of town?” He asked sarcastically as he swung from the roof onto the alley floor. Seeing Spider-man getting closer, the robber placed the knife against your neck as a warning. “Woah now let’s not get too excited” he added as he put his hands up for the robber to see

“Yeah, well we were just having a little chit chat, weren’t we darling?” the robber asked you, adding pressure to his hold on you making you whimper against the pressure.

“Tsk tsk tsk” Spider-man responded walking closer to the robber “Now thats no way to talk to the lady now is it '' he asked shooting a web onto the robbers hand pulling him away from you. 

Seeing that he was in a losing battle,the robber dropped his weapon holding his hands up, “Wa-wait we can work something-” but before the man was able to say anything else he was swept off his feet and on the ground groaning in pain. Within minutes the robber was tied up and left for the clean-up department, a.k.a the police officers.

“Spider-man?” you called out. Your voice was raspy and you couldn’t control the tears that started to flow down your face with such ease. His full attention was on you, walking over slowly, he placed one hand behind his back and the other reaching out for you to grab, “Milady?”  As you placed your hands upon his, he swept you off your feet and into the air. At first your eyes were closed due to the spontaneous change in altitude, but once your body calmed down you opened your eyes. Face to face with the dazzling stars that illuminated the night sky. Looking down at the city lights you could tell Peter was taking you but it didn’t stop the question from leaving your lips, “Are we going home?” you asked your voice no higher than a whisper. Peter answered your question with a gentle squeeze but not a word was spoken until you two landed on top of your building's roof.

“Peter- I mean-” you cleared your throat a bit nervous,“Spiderman. Uuh- Thanks” you said, feeling the blush creep up your neck. You were used to speaking to Peter, but never when he was in his suit, it almost felt too- unreal.

Peter snatched off his mask from his face, searching your body with his eyes for anything out of place. Only then did you notice the way his breath was almost shaky, like the reality of it all just hit him. Any other day you would have looked away too afraid to be caught staring, but the way he stood there watching over you like it was his only reason to live had you memorized. The only thing that took you out of his trance was the crack in his voice as he grabbed your shoulders,  “I thought, I thought I lost you. I heard your voice but I didn’t think it was you- or- I, I don’t know but I just knew I had to come and then I did and he had a knife against your throat and- oh God '' he cried taking in a sharp breath. Placing a hand on his cheek you rubbed the tears away with your thumb. He put his hand over yours, caressing it ever so gently staring into your eyes. You tried to think of something to say, something that may ease the shock he had on his face but before you could even form the words he pulled you into a kiss, only coming up for air to look into your eyes and kiss you all over again. 

After a moment Peter stopped and looked at you for what seemed like forever, “I know this is sudden but-” Peter pulled a candy ring-pop from dropping down on one knee. You chuckled looking between the boy you’ve loved for so long and the sugary treat he held in his hand. “This ring pop is- well a little smashed up-” you both laughed at the statement, you couldn’t figure out if it was the adrenaline or pure happiness but you felt like you could run a mile. “- But I was hoping that you would still at least let me do my romantically cringy speech” you nodded and he chuckled nervously, “ Okay here it goes, y/n?”

“Emhmm” you tried to contain your smile with your hands but you were sure it could be seen from miles away. 

“Y/n” 

“Uh-huh” you said, egging him to go on. Suddenly his facial features changed like there was something wrong. “Peter you're scaring me what's wron-”

“You’re gonna be late?” he said drooping the candy ring pop looking around

“Peter what? What are you talking about'' Peter grabbed your hand pulling you closer to the edge, “Peter you’re scaring me what's going on”

“You have to wake up”

“What-” He shoved you off the building and as soon as you hit the ground-

“Peter!” You popped up huffing as you looked around only to meet face to face with your mother.  

“No it’s not Peter, it’s your mother. It’s about time you woke up” your mother yelled as she picked up the dirty clothes that were on your floor and placed them into a hamper. 

“Mom, you scared me! I think you just ended my life…. in my dreams!”

“Yeah, well if picking up your dirty clothes at this age is going to be a normal activity of mine, I guess my life ended ages ago. So you can call us even.” she said without hesitation while  taking the hamper exiting the room, “You need to be out of the house in twenty minutes!”

“Yes ma’am” You said sighing as you swung you leg off the bed 

I mean of course it was just a dream. Perfect Peter would never do anything that heroically romantic...Not to you at least. You guys had been friends for over 10 years- no, not just friends, best friends.So close that he feels the need to tell you every single detail about his crush, Ms. Liz freakin Allen. As if your love for him wasn’t already impossible, he goes and crushes on the rich ‘cheerleader’ with brains. Not to mention he talks about her all the time, even at this very moment! I guess you don’t mind his little rambles, or at least you pretend you don’t. It gives you an excuse to admire his features a little more. Like his mesmerizing lips that moved so elegantly as he talked. Making the most boring of subjects an entertaining sport. The way he casually bit his lip as he smiled or when his tongue would tease you with a quick game of peek a boo as they swept across his bottom lip. Or the way he just said your name so sweet like the morning dew on a summers day.You loved the way your named rolled off his tongue with… wait-

“Y/n!” Peter called, you looked up at him confused, why on earth was he shouting your name like that? “Y/n are you even listening?” Peter Parker asked, making your stomach drop a bit. Of course you weren’t listening; he was ranting about Ms.Perfect, but you didn’t expect to be quizzed on the subject.  

Giving a chuckle you pulled on your sleeve out of habit, “um of course, I just.. Zoned out for a second.. Or two” you explained looking down at your half eaten pizza. The school pizza didn’t look all that appetizing, but anything was better than looking into Peter’s eyes. That boy could read you like a book with no cover. You heard him give a small chuckle, that made the ends of your lips curve up. His soft laugh gave you the ability to look up at him. At the moment he was combing his fingers through his hair as he bit the side of his lip, something he did quite often to stop from smiling but his smile was almost memorizing. The way his smile could melt you from the inside out was almost scary. 

He looked back at you shaking his head jokingly, “Well I guess I’ll just have to tell you again won’t I? I was telling you guys that I finally asked Liz out” he said simply. It took you a moment to process his words. You were waiting for the punchline, the “Ha you should have seen your face”. Yet the only thing you got was the gut punching feeling in your stomach that made you want to throw up your half eaten pizza, and the breakfast you thought would have been devoured by now. It’s not that bad, keep it together just nod just do something just don’t- “Y/n?” All eyes were on you. Peter. Ned. Mj...Peter. You could feel the lump in your throat building and your breath begin to shorten so you smiled and nodded, taking a deep breath, and then another but it was as if your lungs had stopped listening to orders. 

You heard Mj grab her bag and grab yours too, “I just forgot me and Y/n have a project we need to work on-” she said handing you your stuff and pushing you towards the cafeteria exit

“What right now?!” Peter asked, you were still walking, afraid a tear would slip if you turned back now.You could hear MJ talking to him in a rushed voice. Something about a deadline and in a hurry.When she finally caught up to you she led you to the nearest bathroom and locked the main door.You leaned onto the bathroom counter trying to focus your breathing as she looked under each stall until she was satisfied no one was in there.

“I can't- I can’t” your chest tightened and the lack of air made your face feel like a thousand needles were poking at it. Panic attacks weren’t very foreign to you but they didn’t happen very often, however when they did Mj was the first to help you. To be completely honest she was the only one you were comfortable helping you in this state.

“I know I know, sit down okay just sit and look at me, just like last time remember”  You nodded as she took a deep breath and you tried to mimic her.She continued to do this until you remembered how to breathe. In between she would ask you silly questions to get your mind off the obvious. 

Once you were calm you sat there looking at the wall, “I knew he would never love me but it still hurts” You explained your voice cracking as the tears built back up. You and Peter had known each other for ten years and you guys were immediately besties. You caught feelings after two year.. And after all this time you finally get your heartbroken by Perfect Parker. “I was never going to be good enough...was I?” You sobbed into Mj’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, let it out” Mj said, holding your sobbing body. One second you were fine, having a normal day with your friends, and in a blink of an eye your world came crumbling down. The only piece of dignity you had left, went out the window the moment you sat in the corner of this dirty bathroom crying your eyes out about a boy who would never think of you as more than just a friend. 

I heard a story about a girl who loved her best friend. She spent days watching him as if her feelings were nothing more than a friendship. Her heart tugged as she heard him talk about his new profound love. It made her stomach twist with the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about a girl she knew wasn’t her. The butterflies she once had, had grown into jealous moths ready to attack any sort of light left within her.Every insecurity she had was labeled as another reason her best friend didn't view her like he did other girls.I heard that she continued to smile as if nothing was wrong. She even laughed when the timing was right. I haven’t gotten to the end of the story yet..The girl does seem kind of stupid though huh…

Chapter 2

[oswaldsleftbicep]

can i ask for fun/crack headcanons with Levy, Lucia (because his hcs are always the funniest) and Lucas seeing their lover crying because their favorite character on a book died?

(yes this is happening to me right now and i feel like a lost a real friend)

lucia, levy, & lucas seeing their gn!so cry over a character death

i've been there, we've all been there, and i'm sorry you're upset :( i'd love to know which book you read tho!!

genre: comfort, fluff, angst if you squint

cw: mentions of death

Lucia

❧ he'd been gone all day on some business trip and wasn't supposed to return until later in the evening so you decided to busy yourself by reading a book

❧ this was a book that levy recommended to you based on what you said you liked to read, and you were very excited to check it out

❧ turns out he was right and this book was right up your alley, you knocked the whole thing out in a day

❧ the only problem was your favorite character died a sad, premature, and totally unnecessary death, and you were devastated

❧ you finished strong though and completed the book before shutting it, wrapping yourself up in a blanket, and laying down on the bed, sobbing into a pillow, and holding the book tightly to your chest

❧ not even two minutes later does lucia return to his room, and needless to say mans goes into a p a n i c when he sees you sobbing alone in the dark

❧ so he runs up to where you are and gently situates you so that he can see your face, and he starts wiping tears from your face, shushing you gently, and asking what happened

❧ he was so scared, he thought you were hurt or someone had died i mean,, yeah,, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to make you feel better

❧ he finally gets an answer out of you, but it doesn't put his mind at ease whatsoever: "they're dead, lucia. after all that, they were just killed like they meant nothing!"

❧ so he's like "huh?? who died??" and it's only then does he see the book clutched so closely to your chest, and he starts to put two and two together

❧ "...was it someone in your book?" he asks, and sighs a little when you sniff and give a little nod

❧ he sits on the bed with you and pulls you so you're sitting up and leaned against him

❧ he continues to wipe your tears away, and he pats your head gently, placing little kisses against your temple

❧ he tries to comfort you with words as well, telling you how it'll all be ok

❧ he'll listen to you vent about your sadness, agreeing with every little thing you say, and when you ask him why the author had to kill them off, he just says it's because they're mean and evil

❧ this comfort continues until you stop crying and your sniffles have stopped

❧ he takes the book from your grasp and says he'll put it away so you won't have any reminders of the pain, and he laughs a little when you agree, saying that you "never want to see that book ever again"

❧ so he puts it out in the hall where a maid will find it and put it away in the library and he heads back over to where you sit pitifully in bed

❧ he takes in how exhausted you look, completely drained from your emotional turmoil and just sleepy in general from reading all day and crying for the last half hour

❧ so he decides to strip into his pajamas and crawls into bed with you, tucking the both of you in and holding you close to him

❧ you're still in your little blanket burrito which he finds absolutely adorable, and you feel completely at ease having been comforted and now being held by the love of your life

❧ you're asleep within minutes, and he just kinda watches you sleep for a bit, playing back the images of you crying and looking so hurt, reliving the pain he got in his chest at the sight

❧ he knows you'll never not cry again, that there will be other books you'll cry over, but he makes a vow to himself to always be there to comfort you when you're upset

Levy

❧ oh he's so been there, he totally gets it lol

❧ that doesn't mean he won't be chill with seeing you sob out of nowhere

❧ so let's set the scene: the two of you are in the library as per usual, y'all are in there so often that you got a comfy couch set up since it's better than just a chair

❧ you're each reading your own book, he's sitting upright and you're lying down with your legs in his lap, head propped up on a few pillows plus the arm rest

❧ it's been a couple hours since the reading began and you're each very into your books

❧ but you're at a point in your story where some intense scene is going down and it just so happens that your favorite character is in the middle of it

❧ you're gripping onto the book, eyes darting over each word, taking everything in as quick as you can; you need to know if your fave is gonna make it

❧ they didn't lmao

❧ nah the author just had to kill off the best character in the whole book in the most terrible way possible, and to make it worse the death was like completely glossed over!! like "uhh yeah they dead ok moving on" who does that??

❧ so not only are you distraught that your fave is gone, you're angry at how they went, and this caused tears to start streaming down your face

❧ levy is lost in his own book and doesn't realize you're even upset until he hears your sniffles

❧ like he felt you tense up as you were reading, but that's normal, he knew you were at an intense scene and shrugged it off

❧ so he hears you sniffle and his head whips towards you with a panicked look on his face

❧ you still have your book open and you're glaring at the pages, tears flowing down your face, eyebrows furrowed and a little pout to finish off the look

❧ clearly you are very upset and his boyfriend alarm goes off like "i gotta fix this!!" so mans closes his book without even marking the page and he tosses it onto the little table next to the couch

❧ he shifts to face you more and rubs you leg gently, asking you in a cautious voice what was wrong

❧ you sniff one more time before muttering out that the stupid dumb author killed off the best character ever in the most brutal and cruel way ever

❧ and he's like "ohh ok i see" and gently removes the book from your grip, marks the page you were on, and sets it to the side

❧ then he grabs your hands and rubs your knuckles with his thumb, and he tells you that it'll all be ok and asks if you want to talk about what happened

❧ he hadn't read your book before shocking i know so he's paying very close attention to the details and events you explain in a very disorganized and somewhat incoherent way, but it's good enough for him to get the gist of the story and that this character was pretty neat

❧ but then you get into the details of how said character was killed, and heck he's getting mad with you. who kills off a character like that?? especially one so cool and relatable?? the audacity smh

❧ it's a good thing he's been in this situation before cuz he knows exactly how to handle it. he'll let you vent it out, hold you for a little bit if you want, and then when you're all calmed down he asks if you want to finish the rest of the book or not

❧ if you decide to finish it right then, he'll hand it back to you and be on the lookout in case you need any comfort as you finish

❧ if you don't want to finish the book either that same day or at all, he'll put it back on the shelf later and spend the rest of the day reading his own book to you to try getting your mind off what happened

❧ he's very good at handling this particular situation cuz he's experienced it several time himself; he may be a little spooked by your sobbing at first but he'll shake it off as soon as it clicks that his partner needs him :,)

Lucas

❧ it was just a chill day with the two of you hanging around in his home

❧ he'd been in and out a little bit, not seeming to be able to keep still, while you were curled up on the sofa reading a book you bought the last time you went into town

❧ you were very into this book, like you had completely blocked out any and all outside commotion, completely unaware what time it was or what lucas had just said to himself on his way out the door for the nth time

❧ you hadn't read a book this good since you were back in your old world, and it was very comforting to have a piece of media to hyperfixate on again

❧ there was even this one character that you loved so much and actually identified with, you were having a blast

❧ until they died lmao

❧ the death was so sudden, and quite frankly it didn't even make sense?? like one chapter they were alive, the next they just kinda disappeared, and the chapter after that the author decides to drop an "oh yeah the died lol sucks"

❧ like who does that?? it's such lazy writing and now the whole book is ruined for you!!

❧ so not only are you distraught at your fave being killed off, you're furious at them being killed off in such a lazy manner!!

❧ so you decide to vent out some of that anger and sadness by sobbing and throwing the book across the room

❧ just as lucas opens the door lmao

❧ he just barely misses getting decked in the face by a flying book, and he looks over at you with a bewildered look on his face, "wtf???" written clear on his features

❧ he has half a mind to start sassing you about turning his home into such a dangerous and hostile place, but he stops short having seen you standing there, tears streaming down your face that's showing nothing but grief, your breathing heavy and ragged

❧ at first he thinks this is all directed at him, i mean to him it did seem like you were trying to attack him with a book

❧ but he can't think of anything that he's done wrong lately? unless it's from him coming and going so much today. did he distract you with all that? or were you upset that he didn't spend the day reading with you??

❧ he takes a few cautious steps towards you, hands up in front of his chest to show you he means no harm, and he carefully asks you, "baby, what's wrong? was it something i did?"

❧ you start to come down a bit from your fit and it hits you what just happened

❧ under any other circumstance you would've laughed, i mean it is kinda funny that he just so happened to walk through the door as you were launching a book at it, and now he's approaching you like you're some feral cat he found on the street

❧ but your favorite character just died, and you don't have the energy to make light of anything right now, so you just slump back onto the couch, trying to slow your breathing and tears

❧ he takes this as a sign that the situation has been deescalated and approaches you a bit faster, wanting to sit beside you and figure out what exactly happened while he was gone

❧ he slowly wraps an arm around you and leans you against him, and he asks once again, "what happened, love?"

❧ "they're dead," you answer in a pathetic little voice that makes his heart ache, "they really just killed them off like it was nothing"

❧ so he's gathered enough information now to know that you're talking about the book that still lies on the floor across the room, and he's kinda relieved that you're not mad at him and no one y'all know irl has died

❧ he's still sensitive to you in this situation tho, consoling you as if someone real had just died and letting you cry and vent out all your feelings

❧ he even gets a little mad with you, like what kind of lazy, horrible writer just kills off a beloved character without warning??

❧ but he sits with you and comforts you until you've calmed down, and he asks what you want to do now

❧ you say you want to get some sleep to feel better, get all nice and comfy in bed and stuff, and you ask him to join you

❧ he agrees ofc, it was getting pretty late at this point, but he sends you off to bed first, saying that he needs to do something real quick

❧ you're too drained to even question it, so you just shuffle over to the bedroom to get ready for sleep

❧ he joins you a few minutes later, quickly gets into his pajamas, and crawls into bed with you

❧ you wake up the next morning, and when you pass the fireplace you notice the charred remains of a very familiar novel... >:)

[stitch1830]

if you could ask toph one thing, what would it be?

if you met her irl, what kind of a day do you think you would have together?

would i be invited (there is a right and a wrong answer to this one)?

what is the first food you would make her try from our world?

what do you think she would make you do first in the earth kingdom/atla-verse?

do you think that you, toph, suki, and i should get drunk together?

do you think toph would be a good wingwoman?

what do you think toph’s favourite (audio)book from your bookshelf would be?

what do you think her favourite scent is?

what would her favourite song/artist from your playlist be?

do you think she likes to sing and dance?

what do you think her love language is?

Banshee! :D I love these questions.

1. I would be tempted to be selfish and ask if I can be her friend, but then I think she'd be like "No you freak." And as a stranger, she might not wanna answer anything personal about her friends or herself. Perhaps I'd keep it simple and ask, "What do you love about earthbending/what does it feel like to move the earth?" I would love to hear her perspective on it.

2. It depends on the vibes she gives off with me! If she's down for a bit of havoc, I'd probably take her around town, find fun activities (arcade games, cool parks, national parks?), find the best restaurant joints, and perhaps a bar or two?? ;) I would also be down to do a mud runner/spartan race with her, that seems like it would be up her alley lmao. And if she wanted me to make a fool of myself and dance in random places (but also preferably at a club??), I would do it without hesitation.

3. Jokes on you, you're already there with us :D (of course you'd be invited I'm all for more people. But not too many lol).

4. Perhaps french fries? I'm obsessed with french fries, so I would love to hear her opinion on the matter. Would I be heartbroken if she didn't like them? Absolutely. But with her, it isn't a friendship deal breaker LOL.

5. I can imagine that she'd probably earthbend me into a tree as an initiation ritual or whatever. I'd be okay with that. Otherwise, maybe riding the mail chute/sled things in Omashu? (or steal Bosco ;)

6. You, me, Toph, and Suki will all be getting drunk at least once together because it's what we all deserve. Honestly though, I could be sober and probably still wreak a decent amount of havoc.

7. Toph would probably be the wingwoman that cracks too many blind jokes. "Hey Stitch! Check out that fella, you see the eyes on him? HOT." I'd believe her without even looking though. Otherwise, she's probably the wingwoman that goes up to the guy, tells him that I think he's hot or smokin' or some other awkward adjective, and tells him to buy drinks for us. Bold, somewhat mortifying to witness, but rather effective. We wouldn't pay for a single drink.

8. Hmmm I'm guessing she'd be a fan of sci-fi or fantasy books? I wonder if she would appreciate Harry Potter a lot based on his story and tough upbringing. I guess I would say Harry Potter!

9. I wonder if she secretly loves flowery scents, but probably just nature in general. Scents like roses, lavendars, maybe herbs, maybe trees?

10. It's gotta be Jungkook or Jackson Wang LOL. But also, this is very difficult because I have so many songs. She seems like a person that likes rock artists (pun somewhat intended). Maybe Linkin Park would be one of her favs? I think she'd like their songs.

11. She probably likes to sing alone, not in front of people, though. But she wouldn't mind dancing with her friends. She probably wouldn't bust a move in the middle of a grocery story though... ;)

12. Hmm either touch or quality time. I guess I kind of lump physical touch as one of her love languages because she relies on her senses to navigate the world and to map things out. So it makes sense to me that she would have subtle shows of affection through a pat on the back, a hand to the shoulder, things like that. But she also probably loves spending time with people and knowing that the time she spends with people is worthwhile and being spent wisely probably means a lot to her.

GREAT questions, my friend! :D I had fun answering these, so thank you for the ask! Hope your day is as lovely as you are :)

......

Send me asks about Toph! It's Toph Beifong Loving Hours :)

[pomrania]

Great AO3 tags XI

(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V) (VI) (VII) (VIII) (IX) (X)

how else do you woo a woman besides saving her from drowning

Someone sets a tent on fire

i'm slowly realising i use the kidnapping tag far too often

i might as well tag Destiny as a character at this point

Elves are Their Own Warning

seriously this whole story is just an excuse to write hurt comfort

Just some lesbian chaos with my favourite wlws

Like the west wing with more stabbings

the original title is -i dont know what the fuck this is-

Guys in case you haven't figured this out this is like straight sin and I have no excuse

vampires like smelling things i guess

i don't control the characters they are the ones who decide what I should write

it stopped being a pwp when this shit turned 10k and they still weren't fucking

Don't set your Prof's car on fire

Lots of me fretting over canon and then realizing I can do whatever I want

Unsafe Taverns In Violation of Established Building Codes

magic being both ironic and bullshit

Did part of this stem from quarantine feels? Yes

very few braincells

he's dumb and that's why we love him

How Could I Read That Paragraph And Not Write A Fluff/Smut Scene for Each One?

It's like accidental baby acquisition but on purpose and with magic

Author is A Poor Sap with little Skill only the Desire to express emotions

there will be pining and yearning bc is that not the universal gay experience

If you think I wrote this sober you are wrong

the intimacy of bandaging up your travelling companion when he passes out on the floor

TAGS CONTAIN LIKE MAJOR SPOILERS SO DON'T READ THEM

the blood and injury and the cooking are not related

is it horny hours yet?

I Tried to Count the Kikimora’s Legs and Somehow Came Up with a Different Number Each Time

I like giving characters vague tragic backstories

it goes torture- comedy - sad - bad time - hopeful ending

I don't know why my brain suddenly decided this is a good idea

no beta no plan no problem?

Oh No A Conveniently Timed Earthquake Has Buried Them In Rubble

it's my fic and I get to decide who gets resurrected

Snowball fights are as close to an action scene as i have written in several years

Canon-Typical idiots

I’m coining a genre I’m calling it Existential Crack

(yes it's a regency au yes I based it on a springsteen song that's my thing)

Gods the tags for their names are so long

ah yes the classic trope of “we’re hiding from guards and making out in an alley”

several times i had to remind myself not to write the word shooketh

but everyone gets a turn on the metaphorical dissection table

Worryingly Enthusiastic Consent

Very thinly veiled anticapitalism and hatred of bureaucracy

so much talk about grains y’all and i’m not even sorry

God came down to me at 4 am and told me to write this

The official timeline is more like guidelines right?

i started this a week ago thinking it would be 2k max and now its 6k and just a pile of whump

they are simply.......too gay to function

perhaps do not try this irl

No Exploding Genitals

ill add the tags as I go lol

humour? Am I funny? I don't know

[chelsfic]

Together Alone - Request: Horacio Carrillo x Brazilian Reader, Narcos fanfic

A/N: This fic is a response to a request by @poeedamerons​ who asked for a Horacio x Brazilian Reader story. I really hope you like this. I got a little swept away and…ugh if you don’t like it can you just pretend that you do? Thanks! I’m tender like a little shrimp or something…

This fic jumps back and forth in time, starts out in the present and then flashes to memories of the reader’s relationship with Horacio. It’s probably confusing lol.

Warnings: light smut (so mild, so soft, hardly there)

***

“…A clandestine life shared with a man who was never completely hers, and in which they often knew the sudden explosion of happiness, did not seem to her a condition to be despised.” (Love in the Time of Cholera, Gabriel García Márquez)

Horacio comes to you in the late hours, when the darkness on the streets of Medellín is just starting to recede with the coming dawn. He’s still dressed in his uniform and you widen your eyes at him in furious admonition, hurrying him inside before anyone can see the silver gleaming on his chest, the damning badge that stands between you always.

You round on him in the front hallway of your tiny apartment, speaking in a whisper, “Meu deus! What are you thinking, Horacio? What if someone saw you?”

It takes you a minute to calm down, to steady your frenetic heartbeat enough that you notice the way he’s standing rigid, frozen in place–but his hands are shaking. 

“Meu coração,” your voice wavers. “What is it?”

It’s dark inside your apartment. Horacio’s face is in shadow. You watch the lines of his broad shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

“Pablo Escobar is dead.”

Your knees suddenly can’t support you and you fall back, leaning your weight against the wall, a hand to your chest. You feel for Horacio–you know what an enormous relief of his burden this must be. But you have to ask one thing first.

“And…my brother?”

Horacio closes his eyes, a muscle ticks in his jaw, he answers you in that gravelly-yet-soft voice you’ve grown to love, “Arrested, mi amor. He’s in custody. He’s safe.”

***

You meet Horacio Carrillo years earlier. Back when everything still feels simple, small, harmless. 

Your brother convinces you to come with him to Colombia, to Medellín: the heart of his new partner’s business. You’ve lived in Brazil your entire life, under the loving–if controlling–watch of your father. When Enzo tells you his plan: to get you into university, for both of you to live the lives you deserve far away from your overbearing father–well, you let yourself believe him even if you’ve never approved of what he gets up to out in the jungle. Enzo is your twin, though everyone who knows you always exclaims over your polar differences. You are the straight-laced bookworm. Enzo is the go-getter, the charmer, the hustler. As his twin you would think you’d be immune to his charm but–his enthusiasm is infectious.

And that’s what leads you here, to the moment you meet your future lover. Lined up with three others in a dark alleyway, watching the intimidating police colonel pace back and forth before you, deciding your fate.

“So…” his voice is gravelly but lighter than you would have imagined. Somehow it only adds to the calm, controlled violence that seems to lurk beneath the surface of his too-tight uniform shirt. “We know your vehicle was seen camped down the street from the roadblock. We know you tipped off Pablo’s sicarios and caused me and my men to waste our time. What we don’t know is…which one of you is smart enough to see you’re on the losing side?”

Your Spanish has improved exponentially during your months in this country but you still find yourself focusing with unusual intensity in order to parse the Colonel’s words. Sweat breaks out on the back of your neck and you shift nervously from foot to foot. You’re going to kill Enzo. He said he’d send someone to pick you up when your study group ran late–he didn’t tell you he was sending criminals.

The Colonel goes down the line, questioning each of you. By the time he reaches you he’s sent the others away in handcuffs. They refused to cooperate. Now it’s just you and he, alone except for the officer stationed at the entrance to the alley.

His eyes scan your outfit. You’re wearing blue jeans and a nice sweater your father gave you last Christmas. He narrows his eyes as he addresses you, “You’re different from the others…”

How much should you say? Caralho! Enzo is such an idiot. He’s never prepared you for something like this.

Well, the truth then. You’re a terrible liar…

“I don’t really…know them, sir,” you try to sound respectful but your eyes are locked onto the holstered gun at his side. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“Maybe,” he answers breezily. “Or maybe you can help me. You don’t know these people? How did you end up in a car with them?”

Meu Deus. 

“My…friend sent them to pick me up from school. I’m a student, sir. I don’t know anything about a roadblock or–”

“I believe you,” he interrupts, putting his hands in his pockets and observing you with a look of cautious interest. “Tell me about you friend.”

***

“He’s really safe?”

You’ve dreamed of this for so long. The end of lying, of secrecy, of fear. Enzo will think it a betrayal, but at least he’ll be alive to hate you. Pablo was a madman by the end. And your brother had no more friends left. There was no other way.

Horacio comes to you, stepping into your arms and letting his forehead drop to lean against yours, “Really, Y/N. It’s finally over.”

You turn your head toward his, just a fraction of an inch, an invitation. Horacio slides into the kiss like he’s coming home. His soft lips caress against yours, his tongue flicking out to trace the line of your mouth, delving inside and brushing against your own. Once his kisses felt forbidden, dangerous. Now kissing Horacio feels like the most natural thing in the world.

***

The first time he kisses you is the first time he asks you to wear a wire. 

You’ve given Carrillo enough solid tips for him to trust you as an informant. As an informant, mind you. Colonel Carrillo doesn’t fully trust anyone. The deal is you’ll help him. But you can’t give up your brother. Deep down you know that one day you’ll have to make a choice. A choice to save your brother by betraying him. But it’s not that day yet.

“I brought something for you,” Carrillo says, warming his hands on the mug of coffee you’ve provided. He’s sitting at the little kitchen table in your apartment. Street clothes. No gun. It’s still risky but better than meeting in public. 

You sit down across from him with your own cup of coffee and you regard him with a surprised smile, “Really?”

Carrillo’s lips quirk into a sardonic grin as he pulls out the wire and transmitter, placing them on the table between you. 

“Next time I’ll bring flowers,” he jokes. 

You swallow against your suddenly dry throat, “I thought we already discussed this.”

Carrillo reaches across the table and takes your hand in his. His calloused fingers rub soothing circles into your skin and he looks into your eyes with that intensity with which you’ve grown so familiar. This man is dedicated to his mission, some might even say obsessed. You wonder what would happen if you ever came between him and his goals. The thought sends a tiny shiver down your spine. 

“Look. I know you’re nervous. But nothing is going to happen to you, okay? I’ll show you how to put it on so no one will notice. This party you told me about? You said you think Escobar might even be there? This is a chance we can’t pass up. I need you, Y/N.”

You inhale sharply. Those words–I need you–his hand holding yours. You look into his molten gaze and try to read this mercurial man. Does he know how you think of him? Over the months of working for him, slowly earning his grudging trust, living together in the loneliness of your secret–you’re falling in love with him. And if he’s using that to get you to do this…

“Alright,” you answer, your voice cracking. “What do I do?”

You show him the summer dress you’re planning to wear to the barbecue. It’s floral, sleeveless, with a diaphanous bell skirt and a modest knee-length hemline. He regards it critically.

“Do you have a sweater you can wear over it?” he murmurs, fingering the thin fabric.

You shake your head and reply with nervous irritation, “No! That will be suspicious, Horacio! It’s the middle of the Summer. It will be hot out…”

It’s the first time you’ve used his given name, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His brow is knit with concentration. 

“It will work, you’ll just need to hide the transmitter some place…” he coughs and actually looks away with the hint of a blush on his cheeks. 

If Carrillo’s uncomfortable it’s nothing to your mortification. You grab the wire from his hands and march furiously into your bathroom. 

“Foda-se,” you grumble under your breath. Fuck it. This can’t get any more awkward right?

You emerge from the bathroom a few moments later, transmitter nestled securely in your biggest, granniest panties. The wire is taped across your torso, as Carrillo instructed, with the tiny microphone hidden worryingly close to the neckline of the dress.

You look up at Carrillo, anxiety rolling off of you in waves, “Are you sure no one will notice?”

Carrillo doesn’t respond right away. His eyes are glued to the pleasing swell of your curves beneath the thin fabric of the dress. It’s the first time he’s shown any kind of weakness to your femininity and you preen a little at the thought–even if you’re still quaking with worry over wearing a wire in the presence of violent criminals. That sobering thought is enough to flood you with fear once more and you actually tremble.

“H-Horacio? They won’t be able to notice?” you repeat.

Carrillo takes a step forward. He adjusts the neckline of your dress, letting his fingers just skim along the path of the wire, between your breasts, over the soft curve of your belly. Your lips part and you release a silent gasp at his touch. He’s watching you with those intense eyes again.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says, his voice a soft, rasping whisper in the silence of your apartment.

“But you can’t promise–”

Your words are cut short when he takes you by the shoulders and plants a kiss on your lips. He’s warm and soft and firm against you. His kiss is surprising. He’s tender and tentative, pressing a few soft pecks to your full lips before allowing himself to deepen the kiss and dart out his tongue. You melt into him, hanging limp in his hands. If this is manipulation–if he’s doing this to claim your loyalty so he can complete his mission–well…you don’t care.

***

You fall into bed. Articles of clothing discarded like wilted flower petals on your path to the bedroom. Horacio still wears the cooled sweat of the chase on his skin, his muscles ache and he’s more exhausted than he’s ever felt. But he needs this. He needs to anchor himself in your body, your gentle love, to remind himself why. Why he’s fought and schemed and betrayed his morals for years. For his country, yes. For the people, yes. The victims, of course. But also–also for this moment of quiet, soft surrender, when he can finally take you as his own for all the world to know. 

“Querido,” you sigh into his lips. You lay your hands on his shaking shoulders, “Be with me now, amor. Shhhh.”

“I need you now,” he responds in a husky voice that’s barely controlled. “Right now.”

“You have me, Horacio.”

And he does.

***

Carrillo never tells you if he gleans anything useful from the recording that you risked your life to obtain at your brother’s party. He kisses you, sends you out to risk your life, and then you don’t hear from him for weeks. Living this double life is lonely and Carrillo–your handler as he calls himself–is the only person in whom you can confide. But he’s too busy enacting whatever insane mission your intel has enabled. You just pray it doesn’t get him killed. Or Enzo. Or you.

Tonight you’re going to forget about all that. You’re out with friends, dancing, drinking, and acting as if you don’t have the weight of the world on your shoulders for once. It feels good, although you can’t help but think about what it would feel like to be this carefree and open with Horacio. Horacio, your brother’s enemy…your boss…the man with whom you can’t be seen in public without fearing for your secret–your life. What would it be like to dance with him?

As if you’ve manifested him with your thoughts, Carrillo appears at the bar, his eyes trained on you with scorching intensity. You’re caught in his gaze, your hips gyrating to the music, your dance partner’s hands skimming over your waist even as you broadcast your yearning, your desire, to the man across the room.

You’re unsurprised to find Carrillo lurking in the shadows outside your apartment door when you return home later that night. You’d spent hours dancing and watching him, feeling emboldened by the distance between you and the crowded room. Now it’s just the two of you, hurrying into the sanctuary of your apartment, together and alone once again. He looms over you in the dark entryway. The fact of his large, powerful body is impossible to ignore. You feel yourself drawn to him like the sea to the shore, aching and rocking to meet with him in a crash like the waves breaking on the sand. 

“When I saw you with that guy tonight…” Horacio grumbles, backing you up against the wall and setting his hands on your hips–claiming you in the places your dance partner had touched.

“I know,” you whisper, letting your own hands trace up the solid muscles of his belly, his chest. “I wanted to be dancing with you.”

He looks into your eyes, he doesn’t need to say the words–you can’t dance together. You can’t go to dinner or get drinks or even take a walk together. If anyone saw you, the sister of one of Pablo Escobar’s most trusted associates, consorting with Colonel Horacio Carrillo of the Colombian National Police…well.

But here in the quiet darkness of your apartment you can have him for your own. 

“I want you, Horacio. I know we can’t be together but…”

Your words unleash him. He smashes his lips into yours, capturing you in a fierce, bruising kiss. Horacio wants you too. He wants you for his own. Wants to take you out dancing and show you off to his friends. But he can’t. Not until this is all over. For now, all he has is this. So he’ll claim you, mark you with his body, his hands, his lips. And one day–one day…

You make love in your bed, in the soft light of the street lights filtering in through the window blinds. Horacio is somehow gentle and rough, fast and slow. He loves you thoroughly with a reverence and a dedication to your pleasure that makes you want to weep. But he is also intent on leaving every mark he can on your skin. You have bruises on your hips and the red blemishes of kisses and bites on your shoulders and breasts. When it’s over you lay in his arms, shaking and clinging to him, afraid to let him go because you know when he leaves this place he walks out into danger. 

“I wish I could keep you, meu coração,” you whisper, the words dancing over his naked chest. 

He heaves a sigh and tightens his arms around you, “Me too, mi corazón.”

***

When Horacio enters you it’s like it was the first time. Gentle and rough, urgent and languid, every contradiction that lives in the heart of your messed up relationship, all at once. You feel a bubble of happiness expand inside you and you’re terrified. Because you’ve spent the last two years quelling your hopes, quieting your foolish wants. You’ve spent your whole time with this wonderful, brave, beautiful man knowing in your heart that he can’t truly be yours. Not while his enemy lives.

And now? On the night that he comes to you with the news that it’s all over, that you can finally rest, you can be together–for real? You’re scared. Scared that maybe none of this is real. Maybe he only loved you because of what you were to him: a secret key to unlock his enemy’s weaknesses. What are you now? What can you offer this man?

Horacio moves over you, rocking his hips against yours, sighing your name as he drops kisses to your forehead. 

“Mi amor,” he cries, his release quivering inside you as he drops his head into the crook of your neck. “I love you.”

You turn your head to watch him. His eyes have already drifted shut and his breathing is evening out. He’s utterly unguarded and comfortable in this place you’ve created together. As you watch him fall asleep you let your hand drift down to press against your lower stomach and the secret inside that you’ve kept for ten weeks. You imagine you can feel the little one shifting inside you, although it’s far too soon for that.

Your lips curl into a hopeful smile as you think about the world your child will inherit thanks to the bravery of its father…and mother.

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[backtobackbakubabe]

Baby its Cold Outside (PART 4)

Bakugo x Reader

ANGST HOLY SHIT ANGST.

Words: 2613

PART 1 HERE, PART 2 HERE, PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE PART 5 HERE , PART 6 HERE PART 7 HERE PART 8 HERE PART 9 HERE PART 10 HERE PART 11 HERE PART 12 HERE PART 13 HERE PART 14 HERE

*****************************************************************************************************

Today was your first day on the job with your new partner. You couldn't exactly say you were disappointed with who you chose. Izuku had gone to school with you and he actually had known Katsuki longer than you had. He was just as surprised as you when Katsuki had recommended that you team up with “Fucking Deku” Shocking you further he finally decided who he was going to team up with... He picked... Denki...

Bakugo claimed there were no good options and he didn't want to talk about it. But you got the feeling that he was a little excited about fighting with one of his UA pals again. 

Izuku insisted that you call him by his hero name while on duty, but you just felt wrong calling him Deku when you knew the origin. But you complied and told him he could call you by your hero name if he wanted. You told him about how you had gone back and forth on names for a while but you had finally landed on Adsum. 

“Oh cool! If you don't mind my asking what does it mean? I mean it sounds pretty but I don't think I’ve ever heard it before.” 

You had forgotten how adorable Izuku’s little nerd mumbles were, “It’s latin for I am here. You know because I teleport so its like one second I’m here and the next I’m there... It’s kind of stupid...” 

Deku’s jaw dropped, “WHAT! Thats the coolest name I’ve ever heard! THATS ALL MIGHTS CATCH PHRASE! Oh wow I’m so jealous. I wish I would have thought of that. That would be so cool to have All Might’s catch phrase in a different language as your hero name. Latin is such a beautiful language....” 

You tuned him out as you opened up a new text to Bakugo. 

y/n: I’ve spent all of 15 mins with Deku and I’ve already gotten him to nerd mumble twice lol. I’m totally going to make this a game! See how many times I can get him to do it in a day. 

Babe: Fucking nerd... 

Babe: His records 12 by the way. 

y/n : Oh Yeah? And how would you know that? 

Babe: Same reason I know he’s mumbling right now and you’re totally ignoring him... I'm observant. 

Your head snapped up. No way. Where was he hiding? Was that asshole really watching you on your first day apart? 

“Oi Deku!” 

Deku stiffened a moment out of habit before he schooled himself to turn around and face Bakugo, who had somehow managed to sneak up on both of you. 

“Oh hi Kacha... I mean Ground Zero!” As much of an asshole as Bakugo was to Deku, Deku never really seemed to let it get to him. “What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Kaminari?” 

Bakugo walked past Deku without so much as a glance as he stood in front of you, feet firmly planted, arms crossed over his chest, and eyes boring into yours. “Deku I’m only going to tell you this once. Keep an eye on her. She’s sneaky and will run off on her own. So try to keep up for once in your life.”  He smirked at your irritated glare before he continued. “I’ve honesty thought about putting a bell around her neck. But if you listen carefully you can hear her gasp as she goes to hold her breath so make sure you’re fucking listening!” 

He softened just a bit before he leaned over and gave your forehead a quick kiss “Oh and I think this goes without saying... if anything happens to her I will fucking kill you. Got it?!” 

You both look over and Izuku is studiously writing everything Bakugo was saying in one of his many notebooks mumbling about all the new facts he just learned about you. “Kill me.... Got it...” 

Bakugo smirked at you, “There, now you’re at three. Only ten more to go to beat my record.” He gave your ass a quick swat before turning to leave, “I need to go find dunce face before he gets himself into trouble. I’ll see you at home. Please be safe.” 

And just like that he was blasting off, literally blasting off, creating quite the scene as he went to go find his new partner. 

You rolled your eyes at your dramatic boyfriend and went about you day as usual. 

When you got home that night you couldn't help but teleport right into Katsuki’s lap. “Alright I knew the first day was going to be hard. But seriously working with Deku is sooo much different than working with you. I missed your little quips and the way you pushed me to always be on my A game. I royally fucked up today and Deku was all, ‘Oh it’s fine Adsum... Don’t worry about it Adsum... Everyone makes mistakes Adsum...’ Which I mean is nice and all but I messed up! You would have torn my ass to pieces! You kno-”

Bakugo slapped his hand over your mouth, “New house rule. I don’t want to hear about anything that has to do with Deku. Unless he did something that put you in danger, in which case I would need to kick his ass, I don't want to hear about it.” His scarlet eyes bore into yours, his hand still covering your mouth so you just nodded. “Alright. Good.” He removed his hand, “Now about you royally fucking up... Do I dare ask what you did?” 

You instantly blushed, “Well you’re not going to like it.” 

He sighed, “Yeah I gathered that when you said I would have torn your ass to pieces. Y/n what did you do?” 

You leaned into him, hoping if you were snuggling with him he would be less angry. “Well you see it’s not totally my fault. There was some sketchy villain who was selling hero tech illegally and Deku and I were following him to see if we could catch him in the act. He ended up catching on to us and made a run for it. He turned down an alley...” You started running your hands up and down his arm mindlessly as you got to the part you knew he wasn't going to like. “So I was supposed to teleport ahead of him and cut him off. No big deal, I do that all the time. Except you know how I have to visualize were I’m going? Well we weren't exactly on a street that I knew too well. So instead I ended up in the building he was running into and... well.. it was some kind of headquarters. So I unintentionally popped into a room full of villains without backup and I panicked and teleported right back out to the street where Deku was, but they all had seen me and now the place has been cleared out. The police had been watching them for months now and were preparing a bust, but I went and tipped them off and fucked everything up.” 

You threw your head in the crook of his neck so you didn't have to see how disappointed in you he was. 

He wasn't having any of that though, he gripped your chin and made you look at him. “If you’re waiting on me to yell at you its not going to happen. Sure you made a mistake today. But you also did something very right. You assessed your surroundings, knew you were outmatched, and you got to safety.” 

You pouted, “Yeah but you would have stayed and kicked all their asses.” 

He smirked, “Well you aren't me. And I’m thankful every day that you're not. I’m reckless and impulsive and proud. I also have a quirk that can blow people up and you don't. I’m very proud of you for getting yourself to safety. Deku on the other had is a pussy for not going in there. He totally could have handled that on his own.” 

You slapped his chest, “Hey are you saying I couldn't have handled it?!” 

He grabbed your hand before you could slap him again, “I’ve never lied to you and I’m not going to start now... No. I don't think you could have right now. There is not doubt in mind that in a few years you will though. You improve every day and you have this drive to do better that almost rivals my own. Just give yourself time. You’ll get there. I know you will.”

******

After that first day you settled into a routine. You’d come home and shower while Katsuki made dinner. Sometimes he’d be on night shift but he would leave food ready for you in the microwave. You’d tell him how many times you got Deku to nerd rant and he would tell you how many times he got Denki to short circuit. It was nice.... Until one day it wasn't. 

It had only been three weeks since you changed partners. You and Deku had a graveyard shift and so far it had been pretty quiet. You were just about to text Bakugo to see if he was awake and if he could bring you some coffee, but then you heard it. A blood curling scream. 

It sounded pretty close and out of instinct you started teleporting around to try and find its source. You don't even remember saying anything to Deku, You just acted. This is exactly the kind of thing Bakugo begged you not to do. But you couldn't help it. Someone out there needs your help. 

You teleported two or three times before you found the source. The sight made your stomach sink. Human traffickers. 

There was at least 12 goons by the look of it all trying to shove girls of all ages, shapes and sizes into a truck. And standing off to the side was Dabi and Shigaraki. Shit this is connected with the league of villains. You sent your location to Deku with a short “need backup. LOV threat 12+.” 

You knew you needed to wait for backup but you also couldn't let them leave. Another scream rang out and you saw a crying girl probably around the age of fourteen on the ground trying to crawl away as one of the goons grabbed her ankle and roughly dragged her back. That was it. You couldn't watch this. 

You teleported over behind the goon who was dragging her. You tapped his shoulder before teleporting to the other side of him. When he turned back around you punched him in the throat before brining your elbow down on his forearm with a loud crack breaking the arm that was holding the girls ankle. You scooped her up quickly, “RUN! Get out of here!” 

You teleported into the truck and grabbed another girl before teleporting her as far as you could and telling her the same. You continued to do this three more times before they caught on to you. 

You weren't even ready as a strong arm wrapped around your waist pulling you out of the truck, “I GOT HER!” 

You were pinned to the hood of the truck by someone who was incredibly strong and you began to panic.You started to struggle, trying to hit anything you could. “Let go of me!” 

Your attacker grabbed the back of your head and slammed it into the truck and you vision blurred. NO! You need to stay awake. You continued to try and squirm out of his grip when suddenly it was gone completely. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!”

You would know that irritated voice anywhere. You were forced to turn around to face a very angry blonde. “You’re lucky Deku called me! You were about thirty seconds away from being one those poor girl chained up in that truck. Fucking Stupid! Do you even now what you just ran into. Look around.” 

You looked around and saw that there was actually a lot more than 12 villains and it was now an all out battle. There was at lest five other heros that had shown up to help. 

His hand came up to your head to check the now bleeding wound on you’re forehead, “You need to get out of here. You have a head wound and I don't want you to try to use your quirk with it. You’re probably already a little dizzy and I don't think holding your breath is going to help.” 

You gritted your teeth, “No! I started this. I’m going to keep getting these girls to safety.” 

An explosion rang out as he blew up a villain that had tried to sneak up on you, “Y/n would you please for once fucking listen to me!” 

You shoved him away from you, “No you fucking listen to me! I’m going to get these girls out of here. Now how about you let me do my fucking job and and you do yours and watch my back.” 

His nostrils flared but he knew now wasn't the time for an argument, “UGH FINE!” You nodded before hopping back into the truck and grabbing the first girl you could grab and teleporting away. There was already a hero waiting for you when you appeared on the other side to make sure the girls got away safely. You kept doing this over and over again. 

You honestly were getting dizzy, and a little nauseous. But you just kept telling yourself it was just a concussion and to push through it. You had successfully gotten all thirty seven girls out but when you came back what you saw made your blood run cold. The heros were losing. There was just too many villains. 

You heard a frustrated growl to your right and you saw Katsuki being tossed into a wall. He was taking too long to get back up. 

He was exhausted. His leg was likely broken. His head was spinning from the exertion of having to constantly use his quirk. It had been nonstop fighting for the past half an hour. He had to keep going though. He had to protect you. He struggled to get up after that last blow, but he was only up to his knees when he looked up and saw a gun pointed at his head. “Fucking coward! Hiding behind a gun!” He heard the gun be cocked into place, he heard the trigger being pulled not once, not twice, but three times, but worst of all, he heard that noise. That noise he usually loves. The one that means you just teleported into his apartment... 

“NO!” But it was too late. You had teleported between him and the gunman. Taking the bullets in the stomach. Bakugo sent an explosion that was so large it likely killed the bastard who shot you. Then you were falling backwards, your vision starting to blur. 

You were in Bakugo's arms but you don't know how you got there, “Hey baby look at me. Hey open your eyes y/n. You’re going to be okay... I’m going to get you out of here. Y/n please! Y/n...” 

Your hand came up to cup his cheek, “I.... got them.... out....” 

Tears were streaming down his face now, “I know you did baby, you did such a good job now I need you to just hold on for me okay! More heros are on their way! You just need to hold on a little longer...” 

You started to slip away, a single tear running down your cheek, “I... love you Katsuki.” And then you closed your eyes. 

But before you were completely unconscious you heard the most gut wrenching, angry scream.