#ive completely fallen face fucking flat

[keravnous]

Southside Alive!; rodrick heffley/reader (smut, minors dni)

read pt. I here | read pt. II here | read pt. IV here

word count: 5,1 k

sooo, v said rodrick doing coke before church and I said remote vibrator

The Heffley's and the Y/LN's are invited to the same wedding on a sunday morning. Rodrick has made plans on how to spice things up a little...

warnings: all characters are 18+, she/her pronouns, (semi?) public sex, daddy kink, toys, name calling, slight bimbofication, he's hitting it raw, drug abuse (cocaine - don't do drugs kids, really, it's not cool)

the title is from the song "Southside Alive!" by The Walking Trees.

You check your face in the tinted window of your father's car, fixing your lipgloss.

It had been a couple of days ago that the two of you had found out, just as you and Rodrick were trying to figure out when you could hook up again. You were babbling about not being free on the weekend, because your mother would drag your whole family to this stupid wedding you weren't interested in at all. His head had snapped up at that, brows shooting up, as he told you that his family would be attending a wedding, too. The two of you soon figured out, that your mothers knew the same bride, thus, your families would be attending the same fucking wedding.

You straighten back up again and look around. Your father is arguing with your brother, your mother carefully handling the presents. Your family was rather early, got lucky and found an empty spot on the sidewalk right across the church. Thus, you can watch people draped in their finest clothing, pastel dresses and black suits, already climbing the stairs - chatting, laughing. There are bouquets of white flowers everywhere, mingling with the red and oranges of the fallen leaves.

Your phone vibrates in your purse.

meet me at the parking lot.

"Who is it?", your mother asks, fondling with the bunch of flowers she's holding, while your father tries his hardest to fix your brother's tie. You watch them and surpress a laugh, your mother and you exchanging knowingly amused glances.

"Someone from my english class, I-", you desperately try to come up with an excuse, "I will have to call her real quick, we are currently working on a project together. Don't wait for me!"

You don't wait for an answer, already hurrying away. At least that wasn't a complete lie.

_

Rodrick's leaning against his family's car, key in hands. He wears a button-up and dark chinos, but apart from that he doesn't really look like attending a wedding, with his doc's and jeans jacket. The lot is completely empty, a secure and quiet place, with its tall and still green hedges secluding it from the street.

"What is it?", you ask, trying to sound rude but failing miserably. You missed him.

"Told'em I forgot something in the car", he opens the door, grinning at you, "Sit, I gotta show you something." Something in his voice tells you that it's not up for debate.

You take a look over your shoulder and make sure the lots empty, before doing as you're told, climbing onto the backseat of the car. He's following right behind you, pulling you into his lap once he's seated. Your hands come to rest on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat pulsating against your palms through his striped shirt. He seems oddly focused while simultaniously out of it, his movements a little too quick, hands shaking slightly. Something's different about him and it puts your senses on high alert.

But you can't bring yourself to question it further, as he pulls a little black satchel out of his pocket and your eyes watch his flimsy hands for a second. Then it hits you. You suddendly know what's wrong, eyes trained on his face. His pupils are so so small, tiny like pinheads. His breath goes flat and rapid, there's a thin layer of sweat just above his eyebrows.

"Are you high?", you blurt out.

"Yeah", he nods, thus confirming your suspicion, your jaw going slack in shock. He pulls a pastel piece of soft plastic out of the satchel, "Had some blow before I came here."

You knew he was bad news, you shouldn't be surprised. But it still takes you off guard. Everyone your age drinks occassionally, some smoke pot sometimes. But no one you know is on anything harder, no one's snorting fucking cocaine on a sunday. You don't know if it's a punk thing to do, but your gut tells you that no matter what, it's a wrong thing to do.

"You're on fucking cocaine?", you hiss and he looks at you, mockingly gasping for air, before looking at you dryly.

"Who cares, it's just a wedding."

"It's, it's not? I can't believe-"

"What? That I am on drugs to stand the next few hours of meaningless bullshit?", he looks at you like you're the most unreasonable person on earth, "You wanna complain more or take a look at the lil' surprise I bought for you?"

Your gaze darts back to his hand. He's playfully waving around something in a pretty pale pink, that looks suspiciously like a vibrator. And that just catches you off guard, too.

He smirks at your eyes going wide and a little glassy, while wetness starts to pool between your legs. You can't fight it, it's just the effect he has on you.

Rodrick leans forward, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. "Do you want me to put it inside o'you, princess? Make this shitshow today a little more interesting?"

You blink. You shouldn't. You really shouldn't.

"Yeah, fuck", you breathe out and nod, "Please."

He hoists you up, hands on the back of your thighs, rubbing over the warm flesh and groping it gently, as he nuzzles his nose into the fabric of your dress, right above your hipbone. You can feel his hot breath through the fabric and you sigh, hand finding his hair, slightly tugging at it.

"Behave yourself", he growls and there's so much confidence in his voice, that you whine at it. Rodrick's hands wander upward, rolling up the hem of your dress, exposing your ass. One hand gently strokes your right cheek, before landing a blow on it. "Or I'll have to spank you 'til your backside's all pretty and pink and you won't be able to sit, hm? Wouldn't that be a nice distraction?"

You moan, arching your back and he chuckles at that. "Should've known you'd love that. Ain't you just a pretty little slut?"

His lips wander over the bare skin of your thigh, as he wraps an arm around your waist, only to lift the skirt of your dress even higher. He starts carefully biting and nibbling at the skin of your hips, while squeezing your ass with his other hand.

His lips reach the hem of your panties and glide over the pastel lace. You can feel his hot breath on your skin, making you shudder. Rodrick's hands ghost over your loins, while his teeth are tugging your panties down, giving you a light slap on your upper tigh as you wiggle in excitement of his touch.

"Don't you fucking move", he hums, hands running up the inside's of your thighs and up to your ass, cupping it and pulling your cheeks apart. It adds a nice stretch to your wanting pussy and you moan. You can feel his eyes on your butt, like he's inspecting you, before letting go of it and spitting on two of his fingers.

"Spread your legs f'me, princess", and you do, knees pressing into the leather of the seats, while his spit-slicked fingers run along your folds and quickly flick over your clit, until you're a little sore and gasping mess.

Rodrick slowly pushes a finger into you, burying it deep inside, sliding along your walls before quickly adding a second. His thrusts grow deeper, faster and soon the car is filled with obsence sounds of your wetness chasing an orgasm on his digits and your moans. It's when his other hand darts up, still holding the vibrator.

"C'mon angel, slick it up f'me", he hums, pinhead irises boring into yours and you obediently open up your mouth, allowing him to slip the toy between your lips. It's cold and tasteless and you hum around the nice weight it puts onto you tongue. You suck on it a little, while he holds onto it, continues to finger you. "Just like that, yeah, you'll love it", his lips land on your neck, licking and kissing, barely resisting the temptation of marking you as his.

You moan around the toy at the sensation, hands wandering over his chest and his neck, while your tongue swirls around the vibrator between your lips. You rub your tongue against it, and his gaze falls onto your throat, seeing it work subtely.

"You want daddy to put inside o'you?", his voice is deep and rough and you nod, whine around the toy in your mouth. He pulls it out, a fine string of saliva connecting it to you lips, that eventually rips and dribbles down your chin. He shoves it between your spread legs, uses his other hand to spread your folds apart, rubbing it over the sensitive skin before slooowly pushing it into your hole. Your walls clench around it and you moan, pushing yourself towards it, until your pussy swallows it whole and it's pressing nice and snug against your walls.

"Shit", you curse, slightly wiggling around in his slap, trying to adjust to the stretch and the delicious pressure. His hands wander up, over your dress, squeezing your tits and then ghosting over throat.

"D'you want to me to put it on?", he licks his lips and your hole clenches around it. He carefully puts your panties back in place.

"Yes, please", you breathe, nodding, wanting to feel it. Your hands come to rest on his shoulders again, bracing yourself for it, while he digs his hands into the pockets of his jackets.

"There we are", he hums after a few seconds, pulling out a slim remote, pressing a button.

You gasp as the vibrator comes to life, a nearly completely silent buzz errupting inside of you. It feels gorgeous, the way it fills you up, the way the vibration reaches down to your folds and up to your g-spot.

"Feels so good", you mewl, sinking down on his leg, wanting to rut against it. But Rodrick's quicker, grabs your hips.

"Oh no, dollface, oh no", he sing-songs and it makes your loins catch on fire, "You won't, alright? Don't make yourself come, you got that?"

"B-but-", you pout and he mocks you with the desperate sounds you make. Your fingers pull on the denim of his jacket, head thrown back, as he laughs. It's a cackling laughter, one that sounds a little rude and it makes your stomach twist in all the good ways. His face becomes stern again.

"I said no."

Something in his voice makes your mind go blank, fresh wetness pooling between your legs and your body aches for him. But you won't break his rules, not knowing what to expect with him being high.

"A-alright", you manage to huff out, nodding.

"Good girl", he praises, audibly content with your submission, as he pulls your dress pack in place, turning the vibrator off.

"I'll have some fun with that", he playfully waves around the remote, "You better head back now, you've been gone for too long, princess."

_

As you make your way back to the church, the toy filling you up so delicately while still being relatively bareable since it's not buzzing yet again, you whip your phone out.

Effects of cocaine you type into the searchbar. There are still some people entering the church and it looks like you're just in time. You take a look over your shoulder and see Rodrick strolling down the small path that leads to the parking lot. Even his walk's a little different, a little more confident and energized and your loins clench at that. You shouldn't be turned on by his recklessness, by the danger he puts himself in, but you are. You always had a thing for boys that knew no rules. Chicks dig bad boys his voice echoes in your skull, as you click on the first website that comes up on your phone.

How the drug works varies from person to person. This is how you might feel: Excited, confident and/or anxious, happy, panicky, risk-taking. Common effects on your body may be: faster heart rate, raised body temperature, feel sick and/or want to go to the toilet more.

You push open the massive front door.

_

"Where have you been?", your father straightens his suit jacket as he gets up to let you slip into the row of seats and your brother rolls his eyes. The church is buzzing like a beehive, kids screaming and elderly ladies chatting away over the noise. Your head swims with it, mind all foggy by the way the toy presses against your walls. It will be difficult to sit down and just as you're confident that you'll make it, knees slightly bend, your mom suddendly jolts up in her chair.

"Susan, is that really you?", she exlaims and you freeze, slowly turning around.

You see the Heffley family and Susan, who is strutting towards your mother, arms spread. Your mom squeezes herself past you and your family. You curse under your breath, knees bucking slightly.

They hug each other, immediately laughing and exchanging friendly small talk.

"It must've been at least 5 years!"

"Do you remember Carla? She had another daughter!"

"No way!"

You lock gazes with Rodrick and he fucking winks at you. Your knees turn soft and he smirks, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket. You know what's hiding in there and if it wasn't already, wetness would be pooling between your legs at the thought.

"Why don't you sit with us?", your mom asks, eyes gleaming and Susan is enthusiastic about it. They initiate a round of friendly introductions and both your father and Frank seem to hate every second of it with their guts. Your brother doesn't seem to mind, immediately catching up a conversation with Greg about some game they both seem to play frequently. It turns out that your mom knows Susan from yoga class and Rodrick snorts at that, making you chuckle.

"Here, have the kids sit together", Susan beams and pushes Greg and Rodrick down the row, the latter making kind of a show to squeeze past you. Bastard. "Y/N, so good to see you again!", she's always so friendly and thus, you fight for your life to smile back at her, shaking her hand, "Lovely dress!"

"Thank you", you hear yourself say, teeth clenched a little, but she doesn't seem to notice.

You can feel Rodrick's eyes boring into your back, practically undressing you under his gaze, but she is already turning her head once more, talking to your mother while sitting down. You're the last one still standing up, but you can feel your walls clench around the toy and it's just hard to sit back down.

Your gaze meets Rodrick's. He's fucking smirking. All good? he mouthes at you, exaggerated concern plastered on his face, eyes sparkling mischievously at you.

You bite your tongue and clench your teeth, ready to surpress a moan as you slowly sit down. It goes better than expected, but once you're seated the vibrator presses up against all the spots you love his cock to hit when he has you spread out on the bed. Your fingers dig into the fabric of your dress and you try to take a calming breath.

I am fine, this will be fine. If it stays like that, I'll be fine -

And then suddendly, just as the guests start to go silent, the buzzing starts. It's relatively slow, the same as before and most likely the lowest setting, but it makes your thighs twitch. You really want to rut against it, it makes your head swim, wanting to feel the sweet sweet pleasure. You take a few deep breaths to drown any noises of pleasure that crawl up your throat.

Next to you Rodrick stretches his legs, knee bouncing against yours as he shoots you a look. You want to punch him. You want to kiss him. You want to feel him deep inside of you.

He hums quietly in the back of his throat, just a noise to all the surrounding people, but not to you. It's oddly calming having him there while it also makes keeping your cool and just sitting through the buzz ten times harder.

You want to touch him, feel him underneath your palms. There's a strong urge to lay your hand on his upper thigh and run it up, cup his crotch and feel his dick.

The vibration is steady until the guests get up for the Kyrie. You're barely standing as Rodrick buries his hand in his jacket again. The vibration picks up, just as the first notes sway through the air. It's a rather rapid pulsation that stops rhythmically and it sends waves of pleasure to your core. Your hand clasps around the back of the chair in front of you, trying to steady yourself.

"Easy, easy", you hear Rodrick mumble and glare at him from the corner of your eyes, trying to straighten yourself back up. It takes a moment and you fake a concerned look at the little heels of your shoes, acting as if something wrong with them. He chuckles at that, raising his chin a little. Smug bastard.

You make it back onto the chair once more,as the singing ebbs, ushering out a deep breath.

You slightly turn to your head and look at him. Your gazes lock and he grins, slowly nods. You shake your head. You can't take more. It will be obvious then, everyone will know.

But he doesn't care, wants to push you further and see you tremble, thus cranking up the speed a little more and you nearly jolt. It's a miracle to you why no one seems to have noticed what's going on yet.

It's a delicious pace and your clit throbs, desperate for attention and you spread your legs a little, desperate for at least a little friction from the hard surface of the chair, for it to press against your folds. It works and you try to keep your gaze focussed on the pastor, sighing in relief.

But Rodrick has other plans, one hand still buried in his pockets and suddendly you feel the vibrator errupting in a rhythm that hits all the right spots perfectly. You can't fight it anymore, you just need a little relief, a little bit of friction.

You start to slowly roll your hips, trying your hardest to make the movement as subtle as possible. The vibrator moves inside of you and your lips part a little at that, silent gasps leaving your mouth. You can feel Rodrick's gaze on you, hand resting on his thighs, knuckles turning white.

He reaches into his pockets and -

Your hand clasps around your mouth, as your body jolts forward.

"Are you okay?", you barely hear Susan's voice reaching your ear. She's sounding sincerely concerned and you feel shame bubbling up in your stomach. If she only knew.

You shake your head, desperate for an excuse to just get out of the church but she's a mother after all and mother's know an emergency or two.

"Rodrick!", she whisper-yells and his head snaps up, acting like he wasn't watching you from the corner of his eyes the whole fucking time, "Take Y/N outside, will you? She's not feeling well."

The grin he shoots you, after his mother's looking away, surely isn't appropiate for church.

_

His hand is on your ass as the two of you fly down the stairs in front of the western entrance. It feels like running away with him and the thought makes your heart beat faster, skin tingling.

"Imma fuck you so good", his lips are onto your cheek, voice deep in his throat. You're pretty sure that he has an insane confidence boost from the coke and it shouldn't be hot, but you can't fight giving in to the dominance he suddendly asserts over you.

His other hand digs through his jacket, while you hurry down the path to the parking lot. You can already see the Heffley car parked at the outer corner of the lot.

"Shit", his breath is heavy, "Dad still has the keys, fuck."

You whine and your hands roam over his shoulder, his arm, his neck. "Rodrick, fuck, please", you mewl, pressing yourself against him, lust and animalistic instincts taking over, "Need you, now."

He starts to look around, eyes roaming the lot wildly, aimlessly. "I could head back a-"

You grab his arm. "No", you shake your head, lust winning over reason, "Do it here. Fuck me here."

Rodrick looks at you for a moment and it's like the world stops for a second, all noises go deaf. And then he presses you against his family's car, you hip connecting with its hood. It stings nicely and you groan, arms wrapped around his neck. He dives forward, connecting his lips with yours, tongue licking into your mouth.

He's hungry for it, hungry for you.

He grabs your wrist, guiding your hand between your locked bodies, until it reaches his crotch. You wrap your hand around it, feel his hard dick pressing against the thick fabric, warm and pulsating. His other hand crawls up your chest, closing around your left tit, squeezing and feeling you up.

"Fuck baby, you make me so hard", he moans against your lips, hand groping your tit and the vibrator still buzzing inside of you, "Can you feel that? 'S all for you."

His words make butterflies errupt in your stomach and you palm him through his jeans, make him groan as he continues to push his tongue in your mouth. It's too much and not enough at the same time, has your head swimming in a nice cloud of lust, blocking out anything else.

Suddendly he lets go of you and grabs your waist instead, turning your around and manhandling you, pressing you against the car. His hard dick rubs against your ass and your body goes slack, falls forward, stretching across the hood of the car.

He ruts against you and you push your hips back, feeling him rub his hard crotch against you as the vibrator buzzes inside of you. You moan and he huffs out a laugh at that.

"D'you want daddy to make you cum?"

"Yes, yes, yes", you chant, already completely out of it and he freezes at that. It makes him hot all over and nearly bust a nut in his shorts like he's fucking sixteen and watching his first porn again.

"Shit, you little slut", he growls and you nod, rubbing your ass against his crotch. He wants to see more of you and thus you feel one of his hands grab your thigh.

Rodrick hoists one of your legs up, making one knee resting on the hood of the car while your other leg supports your weight, arms stretched out before you. It's a nice stretch that only pulls on your strings a little, adding to the bittersweet pain. The metal is cool in the chilly autumn breeze and you rub yourself against it a little, desperate for any sort of friction.

"Shit babe, look at you", his words ring in your head, your mind fogging up again, "Shit, that's so hot."

He grabs your ass, toying with the flesh a little while the vibrator inside of you is still turned up, making you gasp and moan.

"P-please", you sputter, trying to look over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, as he's pulling up the hem of your dress. You're soaking wet and he whistles lowly at the wet stain on your pastel panties, the way your folds press against it, visible through the thin fabric.

He slooowly pulls them down, taking them off of you. He has to bow down a little for that and as he bends back up, his hand cups your cunt.

Your head falls forward at the sudden contact and your hips buck, making you whine as your clit rubs against the palm of his hand.

"C'mon girl, take what you need", and thus, you do, rutting against his palm, moaning and gasping, fingers grasping at the cool metal unsuccessfully.

"Oh, would someone look at that stupid little thing", he hums, "Getting off without me really touching her. That's all you need girl, hm? Yeah, you're my stupid little slut."

The friction's not enough and he seems to notice, after you rut against his hand for a few moments. Rodrick's fingers delve between your folds, pulling at the vibrator, thrusting it in and out of you. You moan at that and he chuckles.

"Fuck, need more", you moan, back arching and he complies, one hand pulling your cheeks apart, the other one drilling the vibrator into you. You feel your hole clenching, muscle spasming and your hip rolling against his movements.

"Shit, yes, daddy yes", you whine and you feel him letting go of a deep breath at that. It only spurs you on more, ready to put on a little show, throwing your head back.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you?", he mumbles, obscene sounds of the toy vibrating and him fucking you with it filling the cool air. You feel a fresh wave of arousal building in your abdomen at that, your pussy pushing out more liquid, squirting against his hand.

He keeps the pace up, pumping the buzzing vibrator in and out of your pussy, juices squelching out of your hole. You whine loudly with each thrust, sounding a lot like the chicks from the porn he still occassionally watches.

"Shit, Rodrick", you whine, "Lemme cum, please, lemme cum!" It falls off your lips like a mantra, mingling with your moans. Lemme cum lemme cum lemme cum

He kisses his teeth at your needy and high pitched gasping, taking your panties out of his pocket.

"Shut up", he growls, accentuating each syllable with a thrust, shoving your underwear between your teeth and clasping his hand around your mouth. You nearly choke on the fabric that smells and tastes like you, like your fingers or the damp air in your room do when you fingered yourself, imagening it would him doing it instead. "Shut up you little slut or they'll hear you", he rasps and you squirt again at that, juices flowing over his fingers, his hand, wetting the cuff of his dress shirt.

"Bet you actually want that, want them to hear how good I can make you feel", and you nod, while rutting against his hand drilling the toy in and out of you, moaning around the fabric and against his hand. It doesn't take more than that, his pace and the continuous vibration to rip an orgasm out of you. You moan against the fabric and his hand as you feel yourself fluttering around the toy, body releasing fresh juices as you reach your high.

Rodrick doesn't stop at that, even though he looks at your pussya and watches you come, a little caught off guard with the way your folds clench and you hole flutters. It's so very fucking pretty to him, that he can't bring himself to stop. He fucks you through your orgasm with the toy as you collapse on the car, only his iron grip on your chin holding you up.

Even though you're spend already, the last of your orgasm making your legs shake, he still keeps up the pace. The overstimulation makes you whine, arousal building in your loins, feeling sore but already needing more again.

Rodrick watches you, the way your back arches towards him with new arousal. He takes a look at your flushed, wet pussy, the way you shake beneath him and he decides that the two of you will have time for a little more.

"You think you're ready f'my cock?", and god, yes you are, pussy clenching around the toy, fresh wetness pooling between your folds, "Yeah, you want daddy's cock, don't you?"

He pulls the vibrator out of you and you whine at the loss, until you can hear both, the buzz coming to a stop and his belt being opened, followed by his zipper being pulled down. And then he's filling you up, in one fluid and rather rough motion, that has you nearly screaming against your panties. You huff and pant, fingers uselessly trying to drill into the metal of the car's hood, in a failed attempt for support.

His free hand, the one that isn't wrapped around your chin and holding your head upwards, thumb pressing the fabric into your mouth, grabs your hips as he sets for a ruthless pace.

"You little whore", he growls into your ear, "Couldn't even hold it back at church, huh? D'you really had to rub your sweet little pussy against the chair, you stupid thing?"

His words fog up your mind even more, make you moan and nod uncontrollably, while you can feel drool running down your chin, the cloth in your mouth now being completely soaked. He fucks you so good, the thick head of his dick repeatedly hitting your cervix and rubbing along your spongy walls, balls slapping against your thighs. You can feel your wetness spreading on the insides of your legs, but you're in too much of a haze to really care about it.

Your body ruts against the cold metal as Rodrick pounds into you, head being thrown back by the motion, chin being held straight and up by the hand clasped around your mouth.

You're puddy in his hands and turn even softer, more controllable for him with each one of his thrusts, body rocking forward, whines and moans buried deep in your throat. The position he has you in makes your body ache in all the right ways, in all the right spots while his cock reaches deep into you, nearly splitting you in a half. You feel sore as he pounds into you but the slight sting just makes it better somehow, lets you feel him even more.

"Wish you could see yourself", his lips graze the nape of your neck, "Wish you could take a look at how I fuck your brains out."

Your hands hit the hood of the car once, twice in a desperate and useless attempt to let go of the energy that builds up inside of you. "Gonna fuck you infront of a mirror sometime, make you see how you loose your mind when I fuck you", and you nod feverishly at that, the image making you tremble, "Shit, you dumb whore, my cock's all that's on y'mind right now, huh?"

It's true. It's fucking true but you can't bring yourself to care, enjoying yourself and the feeling his thrusts and words errupt in you too much. You love the place he puts you in.

You love the way he fucks you, the way he talks to you. Suddendly clarity hits you. You love h-

Your orgasm rips through you at that, mind going blank. Your eyes go wide first and then your eyelids turn heavy as your walls clench around him and you rut back, against his rapid and deep thrusts, riding out your high.

Rodrick moans deeply as your pussy squeezes him so nicely, hands leaving your chin, both grabbing your hips as he buries himself deep inside of you. You can feel his cock twitch and pulsating hotly inside of you and then he comes too, moaning again, shooting thick ropes of cum into you. You sigh and your cheek comes to a rest on the cool hood of the car as you pant, relishing the way he feels in you, the way your orgasm sends waves of pleasure through your body. Your limbs go slack and everything is a little muted, like your brain's wrapped up in cotton. You barely feel how he removes your spit-soaked pair of panties from your mouth, jaw slack and hurting slightly. Rodrick remains buried deep to the hilt in your pussy until he goes soft again, slowly pulling out and tugging himself back into his pants.

After a few minutes of remaining like that and Rodrick catching his breath too, a cool breeze hits your skin and you suddendly realize that you're still outside. A fresh wave of adrenaline hits your nerves and you put your leg down, slowly rising your chest. You want to get up, get your panties back on quickly to stop his cum from leaking out of you and running down your thighs, before the first guests make it out of the church and eventually to the parking lot.

But Rodrick only pushes your chest gently back down on the hood of the car. Before you can protest he is already swiftly inserting the vibrator back into you and you gasp loudly, as you feel both his and your juices being pushed back inside by the sudden intrusion.

"What-", you huff out, knees bucking.

Rodrick just hums, straightens your dress, soft fabric falling over your naked ass as he pulls you back up, lips on your neck. "Be a good girl f'me and keep that inside of you, yeah? Don't wanna have daddy's cum make a pretty little mess out of your skirt, or do you?"

You shake your head, the sudden stretch of your used hole already pulling you back in an all fogged up-cotton mouth state, saliva drying up on your chin. He brings his palm up and gently pats the remains away. "Lookin' picture perfect, doll. Now, let's head back inside, shall we?"

_

It's two days later and you're sitting at your desk, working on an assignment, as your phone vibrates. You put the pen down and unlock it, only to be greeted by a message from Rodrick. It's a short video and you nearly moan out loud at what it reveals.

It shows his hard dick, hand wrapped around it as he's slowly, delicately jerking himself off, precum pooling on the tip of his dick. He is fucking into something, something pale and lacey and very familiar - your panties from the wedding. He is moaning too, a noise that makes your stomach tingle.

wanna come over?

[lovestrucked-again]

Delirium VIII

Summary: After being kidnapped and claimed by the notorious mafia leader, he offers you a 7 day period where you’ll be given the option after of staying or leaving. Until then, you’re stuck, whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Mafia leader X female reader   Word count: 3.7k

Genre & Warning: SMUT, BDSM - paper bonds LMAO, sex toys - vibrator, porn videos, oral sex (male receive), fingering, hair pulling, possessive, toxic and yandere like personality, humiliation, rough, orgasm denial, begging, orgasm control, praise, teasing, pee mentioned but no urophilia just Taeyong being obssessive over Y/N, being babied 24/7.

a/n: Okay so my holiday is finally here and ive finally had time to do this but ive put off my other collab accidentally instead... I am also finally getting to the climax of this story soon.

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Day 4 Continued

Your pulse is racing, the discomfort countering the wild sense of excitement. It’s not like you were completely stuck, you could free yourself with a sharp tug at your wrists but, you didn't want to.

You're a little irked that he’s left you like this for so long, but then again, it hardly surprises you considering the last teasing threat you made. Not like it was my fault though.

As soon as Taeyong left for the door, you had fallen back against the wall, desperately waiting for the release you were constantly climbing but could never reach. The chastity belt was only removed after he had returned from answering the door, the delivery food that had been ordered instantly trashed as he walked back to you blankly.

It should hardly surprise you how Taeyong thinks and works. It doesn't surprise you that his got you bound to his kitchen chair, naked and waiting. Doesn't surprise you that your ankles are once again tied by a thin nylon rope on the outside of the front chair legs. Doesn't surprise you that his managed to get you into a position with a vibrator deeply plunged into you, leaving the protrusion at the base nudging against your clit. However, what does manage to wonder you, is the fact that he walked out the front door almost 30 minutes ago and stated he wouldn't be back till lunch.

Had the device not been twisted an inconvenient one-eighty degrees inside you, you could just adjust it, switch it on and set it growling within and against you, rather than just staying fitted on the seat tight and inert. But that would mean ripping the crepe-paper bonds with which he had tied your wrists behind the chair-back. Your restraints he had improvised from the wrappings of your dress he bought the day before, carefully choosing it instead in case of any ‘unexpected circumstance'.

“Tear yourself free if you want,” he whispered in your ear having completed the delicate knotting, “but if you do I'll fuck you up properly and deprive you for the rest of the day."

So you were behaving yourself, staying in place, rocking back and forth as much as you can to create friction between the smooth surface of the sex toy to your clit. All while the images play out before you on screen.

He had picked a DVD from his modest but carefully put-together treasury of hardcore pornography. Placing the chair, you were straddled to, in front of his flat-screen, surrounding it with speakers for you to enjoy the maximised audio-visual experience of the sweating, groaning, foul-mouthed fuck-action.

“Pay special attention to the third scene,” he had warned you before leaving, “Because everything he does to her, I'm going to do to you.”

The sometimes limited appeal of porno visuals was hugely enhanced by your current situation. You can’t help but watch, enthralled, as a parade of pornstars drizzle themselves liberally with oily lubricant, massaging it lovingly into their curves, while the hired studs looked on in grinning anticipation, stroking their big erections. The same girls were then worked over vigorously by their hung-and-hoisted admirers, as you gazed, shifting vainly to increase the sense of traction inside your own filled pussy. Not for the first time that day you were writhing frustratedly yet again in an effort to bring yourself to climax.

Then the other sensation began to compete. There had been an excited knowingness in Taeyong’s eyes at odds with his calm demeanour as he had encouraged you to drink water. Now the liquid was draining south, filling you up and thwarting the desire which had been mounting, as you clench your groin muscles to stem the flow.

“Better not move,” he had warned you. While you could easily escape and relieve yourself both physically and pleasurably, you’re unwilling to countenance the prospect of his threat, not yet at any rate, so you endure your swollen bladder, resisting the urge to relieve yourself all over his living-room rug.

You sit and squirm and endure, watching as the DVD's third scene kicks in. Physical discomfort cannot squeeze out the thrill and the shame as the particular porn scenario unfolds before you. The slender girl with the hair sticking oily to her body to a slippery sheen. Submitting herself to the smug fuck who gets to nail her. Everything he does to her...

Your eyes widen and your throat holds in your breath. Oh my God. What is he doing, what is that... Then the urge to pee and the need to wrestle it overtakes your concentration and you curse at Taeyong all over again.

By the time you hear the key rattle in the lock, you had held yourself on the edge of bursting for over an hour. The DVD is still churning out its explicit content, incoherent fuck-noise pouring from the speakers, but you were long past paying it any mind. All your focus was on holding in the water.

You meet his gaze squarely as Taeyong walks through from the entryway, tilting your chin back defiantly whatever the torment from below, whatever thrilling fear you might feel regarding his next move. And you stay silent, just staring at him a challenge through your suffering and waiting to see where his whims would take you. The expression on his features is something between benevolence and amusement. Your pulse accelerates further as he approaches you; the arrogance in his bearing was tempering by something almost respectful, as he reaches out and strokes your damp hair. A ting of arousal builds only dimly through the pain from your distended bladder.

Taeyong contemplates his next move while he watches you. 'Irresistible' is the word that occurs to him, though that he keeps to himself. Your hair draping your slim shoulders rather stickily right now. A sheen of moisture glossing over your skin like on that hottest of summer weekends, a trickle of sweat making its path between your breasts' pert mounds, descending over the lightly-padded trim of your stomach towards the pink, vibrator-crammed revelation of your split thighs.

“You haven’t moved. I’m impressed.” His voice is soft and only mildly taunting as he tosses aside the bag he had been carrying and his firm hand touches your face gently. You gasp as his fingers trace a sweat-slick path down your neck, your body responding to him in spite of the need to relieve yourself. His hand cups the moistened curve of your left breast and he fondles you rhythmically till you groan. Slowly his fingers glide to a point over your sweat-moistened surface and pinch hard at your engorged nipple. The shudder is visible, you know. You feel like you can hardly hold yourself in any further. Then he’s behind you, kneading again, his other hand flat on your sternum and plunging gradually, till it firmly applies pressure to your lower stomach.

“Miss me?” he growls softly, as you wince and clench.

You laugh sarcastically, “I was distracted,” you tell him, your voice shallow. “Sensory overload. And no joke, but if you keep me here I'm going to piss all over your chair and that’s on you.”

Taeyong can’t help but chuckle “Whoops,” he says, raising his hand from your stomach. “My bad. Let me help you - you've been very well behaved. So far.” The final words are as ominous as they are soft-spoken. You try to hide your trembling as he drops to his knees and begins to untie your bound ankles, head between your thighs, breath flowing all over your splayed gash as he works.

As he leans in, completing the unfastening - you watch fascinated as his carefully groomed head of dark hair hovers around your crotch releasing the strong teeth around the base of the vibrator. Grasping your hips for leverage he draws the toy out leaving a residual of moisture and a stronger need to pee.

You manage to hold on and fight the urge to tear the wrist-bindings which you so easily could have done. Everything felt like a test, like Taeyong was testing your trust in him, your trust in this unexplained relationship.

Unsurprisingly, he stands up instantly and with an intimidating vibe, the vibrator in his hand is stowed into your mouth nearly choking you with your own flavour.

“Hold that while I get your wrists.” There’s a casual roughness to his tone that bites at your arousal while also pissing you off slightly, even as it drives you wild. And then, with a rip you’re free of all bonds, apart from the emotional one which is linked to Taeyong. He leans in behind you, hands encircling your slippery waist, his voice in your ear tender again. “Now, anywhere you'd like to go?”

Arousal seems to override your suffering as you feel your nipples resolve into hard points at his touch, at his breath on your face, yet you fight it. “Bathroom, please. Seriously. I can't hold it in.”

Taeyong was always in awe around you, yet again once more by the natural sensuality of you, the way your back arches and your breasts thrust out searchingly as he caresses around your skin. He strolls around the chair casually before, sliding his hands around your waist and under your thighs, scooping you easily into his arms. You link yourself around his neck for support and lay hazily in his grip as he carries your nude form from the living-room.

“You are a bad man,” you whisper breathily.

“You have no idea, baby.”

Your eyes lazily glimpse around the surroundings, noticing the direction you’re headed in is not where you wanted to go, “Why are you...”

Carried into his spacious bathroom, you realise with a jump of your heart how literally he was taking your request. You cling to his neck as he tips your back and lays you over the end of the bathtub. The porcelain surface feels cool on your flushed hot skin. You find yourself almost inverted, ass plumped against the curving wall, legs spread and hooked over the curved end of the bath, the intimacy of your swollen sex all on display for him.

“There you are,” Taeyong says lightly, as he disentangles himself from your grip. His hands roam meandering over the wet slopes of your breasts, upwards to your stomach and thighs. He was enjoying this intensely, enjoying your body and your predicaments. “You asked for the bathroom.”

Clearly, Taeyong could always outdo himself, always managing to shock you with some unexpected surprise. And for all the physical urgency to release, you feel your loins spontaneously tighten against it. Somehow, you felt weaker under his fingers, somewhat enjoying the overwhelming amount of wickedness that seemed to humble you into submission. Maybe perversely he wants you to give in early, prove you don't have the courage you acted upon with earlier in the day.

“Well?” His face hovers some way above the split between your legs. “What are you waiting for? I can let you do it alone, but I'll tie you up after and leave you alone for the longest time...”

“No need.” Your face feels hot and flushed, embarrassment fighting with excitement. Whatever.

You raise your head and shoulders from the tub and your right arm reaches around his neck, hand latching itself to the back of his head, fingers clutching into his hair. Your upper body stiffens as you cling to him for support, but the lower part of you releases and you give in. Taeyong hides the faintest shock as you don't talk back, watching your face as you grip him, sharing his gaze as you relieve yourself from the built up water, an unreadable look in his eyes.

You release your hold on him, as he reaches for the extendable shower head from above and tests the temperature against the sink. Laying back onto the bath surface, you allow the pale gush of water to roll across your belly, spilling around your breasts and channelling through the valley, splashing around your neck and precociously upturned chin. Taeyong places a soft kiss against your forehead as he brings the water around your skin.

“Did I do well?” you whisper, eyes closed as the lukewarm water runs over your thighs.

“You did,” he murmurs, trying not to let show the strange awe that he feels. “Very well.”

Your body feels weak and tired but you still feel weirdly pleased with yourself. The smile on Taeyong’s face is softer and it assures you. His fingers massage the back of your body, focusing on the parts where you would’ve felt the most tense from being in a tied position.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, hearing the shower head fall against the sides of the tub.

“Nothing.” He hums back, removing his shirt to the side of the tub as he leaves the bubbles to wash off your skin. Your face falls close to his chest as he leans against the edge of the bathtub.

And he lays you back down again, flipping the cap off the body soap once more and squirting the gel all around your lower stomach. You gasp a little as he begins to spread it all around your mound, slightly embarrassed as he cleans and rubs at it. “Just making sure you're properly clean.”

His voice is soft, his attentions careful and deliberate. He soaps with one hand, the circular movement slowing till his thumb rests on your clit. You gasp at the sensation, your whole body bridling under his touch. Peering up you can see him working you intently, his fingertips moving in minute circles on you, while the hard bulge of his cock strains in response against his pants.

He reaches with his other hand between the fork of your legs and you feel him strum back and forth for a moment over your sensitive lips. Your body follows in response and you shudder. Then suddenly, two of his fingers plunge inside you and commence to fuck briskly in and out and yet again you’re lost to all else.

The only thing you knew was Taeyong playing you and the erotic swell of his music throughout your being. Your eyes close and you give yourself up to it, moments from earlier flashing across your consciousness: the firmness of his hands as he tied you to the chair, his words in your ear - 'everything he does to her...' - the writhing, thrilling torment in which he had left you. Only now with your clit able to bloom freely under his touch, your pussy responding and lubricating to the traction of his diligently thrusting fingers. You recall the way he had denied you so cruelly in the morning and fear he would inflict that agony again, but his touch only intensifies and quickens, bringing you rapidly to your high.

“Fuck.” You manage to mutter, under your breath. Taeyong finds himself cherishing the sight of your lovely form squirming and humping under his attentions. Drawn to it. He clutches your loins all the way through your orgasm, your cunt tightening urgently on his pumping fingers, your juice flowing all over his palm.

His cock continues to squeeze against the zipper of his trousers as though trying to burst its way out but he attempts to ignore it. Somehow, you’d done it again. There was something about you that just managed to lull him into tenderness, that makes him prioritise your pleasure over his.  

You slump back onto the porcelain, spasming just a little further from his hands on you. He reaches across and draws you up with one hand to your upper back, the other still between your legs gently stroking the wet moisture of your cunt.

“How did that feel?” He could hear the edge to his own voice, desperately driving his soaring lust. “How did it make you feel? All of it?”

You stare at him as through a daze, temporarily rung out by your climactic explosion.

“Open.” Your eyes fix on him more firmly. “And exposed. It made me feel exposed.”

“And did you like that?” he asks with quiet relish.

“Yes I did.” You can feel a surge of anxiousness and excitement fluttering around your stomach as Taeyong slides his hand up around the roots of your hair. His hand bunches around the strands of your loose hair and he can see the disconcerted look return to your face.

“Well then, you're going to have much more of what you like.” He rises from the bath's edge and with his cum-smeared hand plucks at the front of his jeans, unfastening in a few swift moves. Both trousers and briefs fall down, allowing his erection to spring stridently into view. “Now get your mouth around me.”

You can feel the prompt of his clutching hand against your scalp, but after the sweetness of your orgasm you don't need to be asked again to give what he wants. Pushing all reservations aside as to his longer-term intent, you bring the hard velvet of his tip and suck.  The snarl of pleasure in his throat only adds to your effort as you work harder, feeling him resolve to steel in your mouth as you provide a hard suction on his first few inches.

His fingers tighten in your hair and he can’t help but push you down further onto him, his smooth thick pole surging to the back of your throat as you choke. He holds you firmly in place for a moment, then retracts his cock and begins to thrust repeatedly, fiercely into your throat. You can hear the sound in your own ears as you gag around him - straight out of the porn scene to which he had drawn your attention to. You’re the girl from the on-screen action now, the little facially-abused girl. He pulls right out, leaving your lips drooling before him.

“Remember the safe word?” Taeyong questions in a low growl.

You stare past his saliva-wet cock, straight into his eyes, “Yes.”

You were ready to test yourself, trusting when you had enough, he would stop. For now, you stare and open wide, inviting his renewed plunge.

It comes just as demanding as the first time and you take it all the way down this time without flinching, swallowing him to the balls and letting him fuck your face. You grasp around his thighs, steadying yourself as you feel his length filling up your mouth, attacking your throat, and feeling it succeed in accommodating all. He withdraws again and you let your mouth slobber freely, never breaking his gaze.

“You want more?” There’s an evil hint in his voice, as though he expects you to be cowed by his onslaught.

Yet you manage to shock him once again, “Yeah, I like it,” you whisper, almost daring him. He stalls slightly, letting the words sink in before ripping himself completely out of the remaining clothing in a few brief seconds.

“So come get.” He backs away, cock still erect and slick with saliva. “Come on baby girl, come and get it.” In a different circumstance, if this wasn't you, he would have laughed at such a proposition, never bothering to play with the women he fucked. But you just had something so interesting and alluring that made him insanely driven to all your next moves. Everything about you was so unexpected yet so captivating. And it makes him only more insane for you.

And as your days continued beside him, you seemed to have forgotten all of your morals, only craving his cock to be inside you – whether it was your mouth or wherever he wanted. So dignity be damned, you climb soaking over the side of the tub, clamber onto the floor and begin to crawl after him, wondering how well he likes your bare form pursuing him like this.

“That's it, baby, come to me, come get another taste...” You make a mad shuffling dash for him, mouth agape to take in his cock bobbing head, but he catches you by the shoulder and holds you off, “Come on, suck me.” But as you struggle to capture him with your lips, he persists in his restraint. “Show me how much you want it. Try and get your mouth around that cock,” he teases.

Asshole, you think, even as you fight him. He lets go of you suddenly and this time it was you who surges onto him, fitting your mouth and slotting yourself forcefully to near the base in a single fluid motion – leaving you rather impressed by your own success.

Taeyong moans in amazement, taken aback to find his cock all but engulfed by your mouth. Your hands clap to his upper thighs and he gasps deeper, as you haul him tight to you, taking the last of him down yourself. You hold your face there, your gaze looming in on his and holding the look. See how good I am?

He grabs you by the hair, harder than before, and you yelp. “Bad baby girl” he grumbles. “And you were being so, so good. Keep your hands to yourself.”

“But you liked it, didn't you?” you ask, the words coming out without crossing your mind.

Taeyong shakes his head and clicks his tongue in disapproval, “We do this on my terms,” he says evenly, hoping to mask his admiration with sternness.

The façade he puts up doesn't faze you and you continue hiding your own smirk, “Can't I improvise a little?”

Just as easily as you read him, he notices the mischief in your voice and he crams four fingers in your mouth to shut you up. Your eyes bulge at his assertive intrusion. “You don't improvise at all,” he warns. “You do what you're told. You speak when you're told. Apart from one word. And that word ends everything, okay?”

You nod, mouth still full with his fingers. Your heart continues thumping from the sheer sport of it all. You had taken so much over these past few days, explored all your inner desires with what he had given so far, yet the thought that he could still shock you was bewildering.

“Now get your ass to the living-room,” he says as he withdraws his fingers, “we have something to finish.”

[myleftpinkytoe]

Frequent, severe headrushes are super weird, bc from the outside it LOOKS super freaky. It's always a fun time (sarcasm) when the uninitiated see a particularly bad one, bc from their perspective it goes like this (steps usually overlap slightly):

1. Me, blinking: "oh, um. Don't freak out"

2. Eyes go unfocused. I stop responding to things said to me

3. I reach for something sturdy, generally miss, then pitch alarmingly to the side as I claw ineffectually at whatever I reached for while falling to the ground

4. On my way down, I begin to shake and twitch uncontrollably

5. I get to the floor, where I sit for a few seconds, still twitching & shaking, then blink a few times. Optional: I begin to gasp for breath.

Which, from the outside, looks fucking insane! Several people have said "you just had a seizure!" (they're not seizures! I'm completely aware the whole time!).

On the inside, it feels like this:

1. Dizziness & tunnel vision. I now have 0-2 seconds to sit down or grab something before I lose the ability to do that in a controlled manner

2. Vision goes. If it's a bad one, hearing is also gone. I can still talk though, so I might say something like "im ok! This is normal! I'll be fine in a minute!" (if it's not REALLY bad, that is)

3. Balance goes. This has a big range of results, ranging from needing to lean against a wall/object/person, to suddenly sitting on the floor, to (my favourite :/) not being fast enough to react before my vision goes and looking like I'm clawing at the object bc I can't see it and I'm no longer 100% sure where it is in relation to my body any more and my fingers are shaking and I can't get a fucking GRIP ON IT. This can also lead to a slow slide to the ground, so like: unfocused eyes, clawing at the wall as I slowly collapse downwards. Best result is getting a firm grip on something then locking my knees and elbows so I don't brain myself during the next step

4. Muscle spasms! Usually happens as I'm falling! My limbs start twitching uncontrollably, which can make my slow, clawing descent look even more alarming! If I'm grabbing something, it also looks alarming!!! If I'm sitting on the floor, is ALSO looks alarming!!!!!

5. Like 5 seconds of waiting for it to pass, shaking uncontrollably, holding onto whatever I can for dear life, unable to see or hear anything, sometimes repeating "I'm OK! Just wait, I'm OK!" if I remember to breathe!

6. (Optional) vision clears and I begin gasping for breath bc sometimes I hold onto whatever I grab so tightly that I forget to breathe! You know when you brace against something and you hold your breath automatically? Yeah, hard to remember to breathe when everything is a spinny, purple-black-green mass of wooOOOAAAAAHHH FUCK

7. Things clear up. I stand up straight and apologize. Someone tells me to drink more water. I laugh awkwardly.

I've hurt myself like 2 times but I've fallen >100 so the track record isn't terrible! It almost always happens within 30s of standing up (although one time it was like 2 minutes later which was inconvenient bc I'd made it to a busy hallway :/), and it's worse if I'm tired, stressed, hungry, or dehydrated, but it also happens when I'm none of those things. It's worse if I've been sitting for a long time, but it can also happen after sitting for 2 minutes.

It's happened a few times when I'm still sitting and I yawn. One time, it happened when I was sitting with someone, and I was like "oh one second", and I folded forward and put my head on my knees to just shake it out, and the person I was with panicked and tried to grab me, and accidentally Kneed Me In The Head! That was a weird time bc like they KNEW I did this all the time so 🤷. School was a good time (sarcasm), bc 5 minutes between classes to get across the building meant I didn't have the luxury of standing up slowly and I fell over like 4 times a day while teachers were like "👀 u ok?"

Sometimes the head rushes are so mild I can mostly ignore them. If I'm walking down an empty hallway and my vision is like "goodbye" but my balance is mostly fine, I'll sometimes just keep walking, maybe list to the side slightly. I prooobably shouldn't do that, but if you're in a busy hallway with a lot of people and you suddenly stop, people will sometimes shove you! Which is annoying! Plus, ive only walked into someone/something while doing this like 3 times in my entire life so again not a terrible track record. It's alwaya fun to walk into someone who came around a corner, blindly grab them bc FUCK, then be like "oh sorry I couldn't see haha".

I've gotten tests done, I've gotten my heart checked, blood drawn, the whole shebang, and apparently I'm fine and just have, like, unusually low blood pressure? Although I haven't actually done that table tilt test, so who knows! It mostly doesn't interfere with my life too much (those 2 injuries happened when I was admittedly way more dehydrated than I should have let myself get), except for Freaking People Out. Honestly people insisting I go to the ER is way more inconvenient than like 90% of the episodes.

I dont really have a reason for posting this, except to maybe ask that people freak out less when it happens? Even if it WAS a seizure, you really should not grab people during an episode, and I've been hurt by people trying to help me more than anything else (those 2 times aren't including other people hurting me while trying help). If we have a close relationship, I might grab onto YOU to hold myself up, and you can definitely hold me back when I do that, but otherwise if I'm falling and shaking, then I can't really control the direction I go in and a SURPRISING number of people end up kneeing me while moving to try to catch me! Also, holding my head directly on a hard, flat surface is WAY more likely to hurt me than letting me hover/ put my own head on my arms so maybe don't force my head down! I don't know why people do that! It hurts!!! If anything, you could put your hand between my head and the hard surface, so I have a soft bumper to hit (tho I almost definitely don't need it tbh), but honestly getting into that position is more likely to smack me in the face so maaaybe just don't.

Oof. You know, I'm always treating this like no big deal, but laid out in a post like this, it DOES seem like a lot? Maybe once the pandemic calms down here I should go get another opinion 🤔

[burnedbyshoto]

Under the Mistletoe

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warning: smut, cursing, fluff

word count: 8,467

a/n: I didn’t want to edit this last night so lmao... sorry!!!!! anyways, this is super cute and yall should like.....read it :D

Synopsis: The mistletoe tradition is known by all, and if used correctly it can end in a sweet moment. Too bad Todoroki Shouto believes that people fuck under the mistletoe and not kiss under it.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“So you’re telling me that when two people meet under a mistletoe they have to...” Shouto trails off as he looks at the green plant nestled in between his fingers. “They have to—”

“They have to fuck, yes,” Kaminari nods his head. 

His arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes closed as he nods. His words, of course, are a flat out lie, but to Todoroki Shouto it seems as if his friend is speaking the truth. “It’s why it was never put up during our Christmas celebrations at school! With some of you guys not turning eighteen until after Christmas and all. That could have turned out to be child porn or something!”

“I haven’t had sex though,” Shouto huffs as he throws the mistletoe towards the blond who yells as it hits his head. “I don’t think I want to be caught underneath it. Didn’t Mineta wear a hat with it attached to it last week though?”

“Yeah, but that’s the only way Mineta can get girls, plus didn’t you see how the girls avoided him like the plague?” Sero pipes in, a large grin on his face as he takes the mistletoe and throws it above Kaminari’s head.

Shouto, however, sees this as a substantial poof.

“Bro, are you telling me you wanna fuck?” Kaminari winks as he looks up at the mistletoe.

“No, I just don’t think you’ll ever get to smash without this either!” Sero laughs as Kaminari slaps the mistletoe from Sero’s grasp.

“Would you fucking bastards GET OFF YOUR ASSES and come fucking help out?!” Bakugou roars as he enters the living room where the three men were sitting around.

Shouto stands up first, his eyes looking at the mistletoe that lays innocently on the floor. White people were pretty weird for starting that tradition.

Of course, it wasn’t to say that Shouto didn’t want to meet anyone under the mistletoe! Had it been a tradition where he would get to kiss someone it would be different, but fucking? Having sex only because you were caught under a plant was a bit too much.

“Todoroki-kun, are you okay?” Midoriya asked as he walked while hold two tables to put up for the dinner. The boys of the since graduated class 1-A were in charge of hosting the first annual Christmas party. Of course on because Iida volunteered them all.

Shouto nodded his head as he smiled strained, “I’m going to be avoiding the mistletoe all night.”

Midoriya looked at the fallen plant as he quirked an eyebrow, “Really? I thought it could be a great idea to get— mmph?!”

Shouto’s eyes widened as he saw Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima covering the One for All user’s mouth. They began dragging him away, their mouths at his ear as they whispered at him.

“Todoroki-kun, Kirishima-kun!” Iida yelled as he brisked over with red cloth in his hands, “I need your help in spreading snow out in front of the house! It hasn’t snowed enough yet!”

“Iida, what do you think about mistletoe?” Shouto asks as Kirishima jogs over to them.

“It’s a weird tradition,” Iida admits as he rubs the back of his neck. “But there’s too much to do, and the girls will be here within an hour!”

“Don’t worry bro,” Kirishima laughs as he slings an arm around Shouto’s shoulder. “Just avoid the mistletoe! Unless... you want us to send y/l/n-chan your way!”

Shouto couldn’t hide the flush the built on his cheeks at those words. The joyous laughter of Kirishima’s teasing didn’t help either.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Shouto stared at himself in the mirror.

Iida had insisted on formal wear tonight. He believed their first Christmas celebration outside of U.A. was a cause to ditch the Santa gear. It was definitely weird celebrating Christmas with his friends and not wearing the Santa suits.

But Shouto chose a dark navy blue suit, a white button-up, and a slim black tie. His fingers buttoned one of the buttons on his jacket before putting in silver cuff links. He was ready.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Shouto placed his clothes into the designated room. It seemed, however, that he was the last one ready as everyone else was sitting at the grand table. It had been beautifully prepared by Sato and Tokoyami. The aroma of the cooking food filled the air causing Shouto to sigh, he was quite hungry.

“Bakugou, where’s the mistletoe?” Shouto asked his ash-blond friend who was walking around with his hands shoved into his pockets. Shouto watched as Bakugou groaned as he whipped around towards him.

“What makes you think I would fucking know, hah?” Bakugou grunts as he rolls his eyes. “It’s hidden for a goddamn reason, you’re not supposed to know!”

“Would you help me look for it?” Shouto asks as he rubs the back of his neck.

“HAH?! Why the hell would I look for it with YOU, half and half bastard?! Are you trying to—?” Bakugou’s mouth was then taped shut. Shouto watched on in confusion as the ash blond’s attention was stolen by Sero; who was now running away in his white tux from the storming blond.

“Why aren’t they just being bizarre!” Aoyama dramatized from Shouto’s left. Glancing over, Shouto chuckled at his friend dressed in a literal suit of armor that was blinding to the eye. “Now, are you confessing your feelings to Mademoiselle y/n? Christmas is the most romantic time to do so!”

Before Shouto could speak to the smirking blond, Iida bursts into the dining area with coats in his arms.

“The ladies have arrived!” He announced.

Shouto watched as six girls entered the room talking amongst themselves.

They all wore Christmas appropriate formal dresses, and yet his heart fell as he was quick to see that you weren’t there.

Where were you?

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“I know I’m very late!” You exclaim into your phone as you struggle to shove the dark red evening dress over your body.

You weren’t supposed to have stayed as late at work as you did.

Missing the bullet train back to your apartment, you had completely missed the preparation for the party. Lucky for you, your neighbor had a useful quirk that let him do makeup and hair in ten minutes. So after offering him your soul (a promised meeting from his favorite Pro Hero Froppy), he agreed to do it.

The formal wear, however, was a bit too much in your opinion.

One month ago Iida had sent out appropriate outfits to gather ideas of what to wear for today. To put it simply he wanted a full-blown ball gown for a party for twenty-one of you.

So there you sat in your room, pulling the dark red dress into place. It had a semi sweetheart neckline, the bodice was made of soft velvet, and the skirt was multiple layers of red lace. Overall it was cute and simple. Slipping on your white heels you grabbed your coat and presents for your friends. Placing your phone to your ear you raced out to where the taxi was waiting for you.

“Iida won’t let anyone eat until you’re here! And I’m positive Bakugou is going to kill Midoriya out of a hangry fit if you don’t get here quick!” Mina once again tells you as you give the taxi driver the address.

“It’s not my fault villains decided to be villains where I work! Had it been my decision I would’ve been there with you guys! Plus it’s starting to snow,” you sigh as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Tell Iida you guys can start eating, I’m not offended!”

“Girl, I told him that one hour ago, and again right before I called. Trust me, we’re not touching the food until you’re here!”

“Wow, you didn’t even want to wait for me?” You tease as you watch as the taxi drives into familiar areas.

“You know I’m teasing, besides loverboy here won’t let anyone eat until you get here too~!” Mina giggles in her sing-song tone.

“Don’t call Shouto that!” You groan as you try to calm your flaring cheeks. “We’re friends!”

“Friends who have the sexual tension that brings god to her knees! And the romantic chemistry that makes the cutest couple tremble in jealousy!” Mina exclaims. “Don’t worry, we saved you the seat right between him and me!”

“Mina!”

“Oh, gotta go! Bakugou AND your precious Shouto~ are demanding an update, see ya soon cutie!”

“Mina—”

The line went dead as you puffed out your cheeks.

Sometimes Mina was too slippery for her own good.

The rest of the taxi drive was quiet. Your taxi driver most likely wanting to get you out as soon as possible to go home themselves. Your eyes focused down at your cellphone that was getting text messages demanding your location.

Most of which was spam from Kaminari and Uraraka who seemed to be the most starving. Sighing, you shared your location with the class’s group chat for the next twenty-four hours. So they could track you for the next few minutes it would take for you to get there.

kaminari: i dont think ive ever been this excited to see y/n in my life… ever… and im 98% sure i had a crush on her 0.0

you: omg i told you guys you could EAT stop HARASSING ME

sero: tru lets blame iida

iida: You all would have been very upset had we eaten without you! Besides, this is our family so we have to wait, it’s only polite. - Iida Tenya

mina: …

you: …

midoriya: …

kirishima: i thought someone ingrained it into iida that he doesnt have to text… like that…

momo: I believe it is okay, Iida-san! It is confusing to know who’s texting on this chat! Sincerly, Yaoyorozu Momo

bakugou: hurry the FUCK UP Y/N

you: id rather die

“We’re here,” the driver sighs as they turn around. “That’ll be 2,000 yen.”

You smile in gratefulness as you pull out two 2,000 yen. “It’s a tip for working on a holiday, thank you!”

“Happy holidays.”

“To you as well!”

You stepped out of the car and closed the door behind you. Your eyes fluttering as you watch the snow fall in front of you. A shiver runs through your spine as you pull your coat tighter around yourself. Holding the presents closer to you, you walk down to the front door. You take notice of the heaps of snow in front of the lawn and grin. Although you had no evidence, you bet Iida made Shouto and Kirishima create snow unknowing that it was going to snow this much.

Opening the grand door, warmth and the waft of cooking food invaded your senses. Removing your coat, you heard chairs scraping against the floor as a small mob of people raced to greet you.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Season greetings!”

“I’m so fucking hungry, thank Santa you’re here!”

“Move bitches I get the first hug!”

“Let me grab her coat first!”

It had been a while since you had last seen everyone. But in this moshpit of who you would consider being among your best friends, it warmed your heart. “Thank you, Iida,” you smile as he nodded in response.

“You followed the guidelines quite well, you look great!” Iida compliments as he turns to put your coat away.

“Of course she looks great, we all went out together to a dress shop!” Jirou sighs as she pulls you into a hug.

You greeted everyone, hugging them all as you went until you finally found the one person you wanted to see. His hair styled slicked back and his hands rested in his pockets as he smiled at you. Your face felt like it was heating up as you stepped closer to him.

“Merry Christmas, Shouto,” you smile as the dual-colored man smiles at you. You pull him into a hug.

“Merry Christmas, y/n,” he mumbles into your hair. “I’ll take those from you?” Shouto offers as he grabs the bag with the presents.

“Thank you,” you say letting go of the bag.

Shouto nodded as he turns on his heel to put the presents away.

“TIME TO EAT!” Kirishima and Kaminari roar as everyone starts making their way back to the dining table.

“Just to let you know, there is a mistletoe somewhere here, in case you want to make a move,” Mina whispers in your ear.

Oh, this dinner seemed like it was going to get increasingly harder to stay composed.

xxx

“It’s present opening time!” Iida exclaims as he ushers the class into the living room where the tree and presents resided. “Please have a seat, Yaomomo and I have organized the different piles for everyone! Until you have been seated will you receive your pile!”

You were talking with Tsuyu as you entered the living room. Your eyes shining as you took in a beautifully decorated living room.

“You boys did an amazing job at decorating!” You exclaim as you grin, the night had been going perfectly so far.

Dinner had been lively and hilarious. Old banter and topics bleed into the night’s conversation made your heart ache for the old days. It seemed so long ago when you spent every day for three years with these guys. You missed it.

With Mina at your left who discussed her new fighting style. Shouto at your right who talked about his life at home. His family had finally was becoming something he loved completely. While you two had late night discussions talking about it no one else knew about it. It was invigorating to see Shouto grin and laugh in conversations. His old dense self was still ingrained in him yet he’s grown so much since his fifteenth year. You were proud of him.

You watched as Tsuyu took a seat on the couch, her eyes trained on you as she spoke. You moved to sit next to her until something shoved you to the side.

“Oh, that’s my seat!” Mina exclaimed as she sat next to Tsuyu, her smile large as your eyebrow rose. “There’s more, don’t worry!”

You turned around and saw a seat near Midoriya who was near Tsuyu. It seemed you could continue your conversation about her position as a Hero Commander. Midoriya would like that conversation as well.

“That’s my spot!” Uraraka shouts as you were about to sit down. You sighed as you stood back up, your eyes raking the couches for a place to sit.

“There’s a spot by Todoroki-kun,” Midoriya said pointing at Shouto. Shouto was sitting on a seat that was a bit too large for one person, but too small for two.

“Thanks,” you smile as you walk over to Shouto. “You mind if I squeeze in next to you?”

Shouto looks at you, his eyes intense as he shakes his head, “No, go ahead and sit.”

You sat at his left with a grin. Your body pressing into his left arm as he concentrated on Iida, and with a nudge, you captured his attention. “I hope you like the gift I bought for you,” you whisper as Iida begins handing out the piles of gifts to each person. Ojiro helping as they were big.

“I don’t think I could hate anything you could give me,” Shouto whispers back as he grabs his pile from Iida.

“Random panties I find on patrol?”

“I’d be honored you thought of me.”

“That’s so gross, Shouto,” you laugh as you take your own pile from Ojiro.

“You’re the one touching random panties from the streets of Japan!” Shouto retorts as he helps you settle your pile onto the floor.

“Touche, Shouto,” you grin as you shove him with your shoulder, “touche.”

“Because it is Uraraka-kun’s birthday coming up, she should go first!” Iida suggests and everyone agrees.

“Oh, I need to tell you something,” Shouto whispers as you cheer on Uraraka who is lifting a gift over her head.

“What is it?” You ask turning your head towards him.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispers before focusing back in onto Uraraka. She lifts out multiple bags of strawberry mochi with a triumphant scream.

“You look handsome tonight, too.”

It doesn’t take long before presents are being opened and you’re feeling content pressed into Shouto’s side.

From Aoyama, you got a crystal mirror that sparkled in the light. The poem about the North Star engraved into the back of the mirror.

From Mina, you got workout clothes specific to a dance class you and the girls were planning on attending together. They were in your favorite color and came with a jacket with your name stitched into it.

From Tsuyu, you got a plushie. It was of your favorite animal and held lots of tiny little snacks that you could carry during a patrol.

From Iida, he presented you with a pair of exercise shoes you had been needing for a while. After all, sparring with Bakugou and Midoriya left your old ones disintegrated.

From Uraraka, she bought you a charm bracelet that had two charms on it already. One of the U.A. building and another of a small group of girls.

Ojiro gave you got a new winter coat. It was white, waterproof and insulated. Your jaw on the ground as you tried it on because it made you look like a marshmallow and you adored that.

Kaminari gave you got his mixtape. On the cassette were a bunch of Kaminari originals he had been promising you for years now, and now you had a copy. That and a gift card to your favorite restaurant.

Kirishima gave you a new ankle and wrist weights. Something to help with your manly journey to becoming the best hero!

Koda bashfully announced that you were getting an all-inclusive trip to an animal and tea shop. Something he gifted everyone in the class, and an event you girls were quick to plan.

Sato gave you a free pass to let him bake you anything you wanted. Another gift given to all the girls, and another gift you girls were excited to use.

Shoji had gifted you a massage gun. Something you had enveloped him in a hug for minutes afterward because it was something you had been meaning to buy.

Jirou’s gift was in a white envelope, two VIP tickets to your favorite band. A very discounted item because her parents knew them and the fact that she was a Pro Hero too.

Sero’s gift was something that made you laugh, it was a high-quality blanket. Soft to the touch, with the ability to keep you warm in a blizzard! It had a class picture printed on it photoshopped with Kaminari’s wheey face onto everyone’s picture.

Tokoyami gave you a picture album with the class’s best memories. It also had many more blank pages for your own pictures.

Hagakure bought you a new set of makeup and brushes. Brushes that you had been eyeing the time you two had gone shopping together too!

Bakugou bought you a new outfit. It was definitely an outfit for warmer weather, and he got annoyed when you went to hug him.

Midoriya made you a present. It was two notebooks full of analysis and suggestions that you had asked for when sparring. You wanted to continue improving and Midoriya was definitely going to help you.

Mineta bought you a gift card to use at a local lingerie store. On the one hand, it had a lot of money on it, on the other hand, you wanted to destroy it.

Momo blushed as she stood up, her grin wide as she looked at everyone. She apologized about being able to properly buy everyone an honest gift as she had been busy these past few months. Nut she promised she made up for it. She had paid off everyone’s apartment/house rent or price. Or in Iida’s and Shouto’s case their groceries for four months.

“This is for you,” Shouto whispered as he handed you a thin rectangular box. “I didn’t want it getting smashed so, I held onto it. I didn’t forget to give you a gift.”

Your eyes focused on the gift that was wrapped in red and silver wrapping paper. Your fingers gently taking it from him as you nodded. Shouto had been giving everyone else gifts with things that reminded him of them. It had some of the most hilarious items to date. But the box told you nothing, no hint, no clue. The attention of the group was on Aoyama who was modeling the new outfits that were gifted to him.

His eyes bore into you as you opened the gift, your eyes widening as you opened the box. “Shouto…” you trailed off as you looked down at the simple yet gorgeous necklace that lay in the box. It had a single diamond on it, yet you knew that it was more expensive than anything you’ve ever bought in your life. “W-What?”

Shouto remained silent as he gently pulled the necklace from the box, he asked you wordlessly to turn around so that he could place it on you. You complied as you shifted in the seat.

“I promise I looked everywhere else for you before choosing this!” Shouto admits as his warm fingers push your hair to the side. The cold chain presses into your skin as you look down at the jewel. “But no matter what I looked at, this was the only thing I liked for you. So, no, I don’t regret or worry about buying you this because I know it was meant to be yours.” His breath teased your exposed skin and it took everything within you not to melt as he fixed your hair.

Not knowing how to thank him, you pulled him into a tight hug, your arms holding him near as he returned the hug. Your lips pressed gently against his cheek, “Thank you, Shouto.”

You pull away and look back to your friends who were still focused on Aoyama who did a spin. Your fingers grazed the shiny jewel, and you lay your head against his shoulder as you consume the fashion show laid out for you.

Xxx

“You’re confessing to him, right?!” Mina hisses as the girls called an impromptu meeting seconds before you were "about to kiss Shouto" on the couch.

“Mina-san, she was about to kiss Todoroki-san right before you ripped her from his grasp!” Momo sighed as gave you an apologetic smile.

“Y/n has liked him since high school! Her first kiss with Todoroki-kun is not going to be while Bakugou is modeling his clothes!” Hagakure defended Mina as she crossed her arms.

“First off, I was not going to kiss him,” you defend yourself as you point a sweeping finger at your friends. “I was going in to get lint in his hair!”

“There wasn’t lint in his hair,” Tsuyu chimed in to which everyone agreed.

“Leave her alone!" Jirou waves her hands, to which you thank her. "She was going to take the lint out with her teeth! To show him what that mouth do!”

Jirou snorts as you shove her.

“Do you see that rock on her neck?! You know she’s not gonna show him only what that mouth do, but also what her—!” Uraraka snickers as she was interrupted by the kitchen door opening.

“Y/n?” Shouto asks, his eyes wide as he sees that you’re flustered and pointing your fingers at them all. “Um… I was wondering if we could talk?”

“Right now?” You squeak as you smooth over your dress. “Of course right now, um, yes let’s go!” You declare, glaring at your friends as you walk towards Shouto. Grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the kitchen the door closing behind you.

“They put up the mistletoe outside right?” Momo whispers as she looks at Jirou who gives a thumbs up.

“Yes, Kaminari said they convinced Todoroki to talk with y/n outside.”

“Does… does Todoroki-kun even know what to do under the mistletoe?” Uraraka asks as she realizes her sheltered friend was still learning new things to this day.

“The boys must’ve explained it to him,” Hagakure insists as she nods. “You can’t fuck up explaining that you kiss someone under the mistletoe. Besides, they want them to get together too!”

Xxx

“Fuck, it’s cold,” you shiver as you wrap your jacket around you.

“Sorry,” Shouto apologizes as he grabs your hands in his. Heat immediately spreads through your skin. He was warming you up, the cold winter air is ignorable, as you and Shouto walk towards the edge of the porch. “There wasn’t any room in there that was private enough, and I needed to talk to you about something important.”

“Oof, don’t tell me you meant to give this necklace to some other girl named y/n,” you tease as you rest your back against the snow-covered railings. “If so, I’m going to need to fight both you and her for it.”

“No, no,” Shouto chuckles as his thumb rubs smooth circles into your skin. “But it is about the necklace.”

You nod your head as you squeeze his hand reassuringly, “What about it?”

“It’s not… too forward is it?” Shouto asks as he takes his right hand to brush your hair from your face. “If you think it’s too much I can take you to return it for something else you’d like.”

The worry and concern that are heavily etched into his face make you laugh softly as you shake your head. “Even though I can’t give you something as great in return, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

“What do you mean? I liked your gift.”

“Shouto, it was a two paid in full all you can eat meals at that soba joint you love, of course, you were going to like it!” You tease as you think back to the hole in the wall you had introduced Shouto to a few months ago.

“Yes, I have to starve for a week to make the most of your gift,” he teases and you snort as you shove him. Your eyes roll as you focus your attention back onto him.

Wait, what was that?

Your eyes flew back up to the ceiling as you saw the powdered with snow mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Your jaw dropped as your heart rate spiked. The hands that were in Shouto’s felt sweaty as you ripped your hands from his.

“What’s wrong?” Shouto asks as he follows your gaze up to the ceiling.

“Mistletoe,” you breathe as your eyes widen. This screamed like a setup to you, but how could the girls know the two of you would have made your way out here?!

“Oh.” Shouto’s voice nearly squeaked.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Shouto whispers, his cheeks glowing in embarrassment or from the cold, you had no idea at this point. “If you’re okay with it, um... I’ve never done this before.”

You lick your lips in anticipation and the feeling that Shouto wants to kiss you back. Your heart hammers in your ears as you smile. “It’s okay, I have,” you laugh gently.

“... you have?”

“Yeah!”

“O-oh…”

“It’s okay, it’s something I try not to remember,” you input as you shake your hands. His disappointed, flustered, and jealous aura screaming at you as you cup his cheeks. “You’re the one I wanted to meet under the mistletoe anyways.”

His hands slip through your jacket, holding your waist in his grasp as he lets out a shaky breath. Shouto’s eyes rise to lock on yours finally, and you nod at him.

“Wait you want to do this outside?” Shouto whispers as you near him.

“You’re supposed to do it under the mistletoe,” you mumble as your lips connect with his. Your lips end all arguments that he has as Shouto stills.

The kiss was slow, your eyes closed as you gently coaxed his stiff lips to move with yours. Shouto moved with you smoothly, the kiss gently growing in passion as he pulled you in closer. The kiss burns you as your lips languidly move against each other. Your hands moving from his cheeks to tangling into his gelled hair.

It was perfect, and you found yourself pulling away, ready to confess your feelings for him. But Shouto didn’t seem to be on the same page as his lips pressed against your throat. The feeling of his heated and soft lips against your colder skin made you suck in a sharp breath of air. Your head tilting backward as he peppered clumsy yet attentive kisses against your skin.

“S-Shouto,” you moaned as your fingers grabbed onto the collar of his jacket. This wasn’t what you were expecting from him. Nor was it something you believed to come from a visit under the mistletoe. Your peaked breaths soon calmed, they smoothed into soft and shaky moans as his teeth teased your sensitive skin.

Shudders flew through your body as his tongue caressed your skin. your mind was sinking into a sinking pit that is until he trailed his tongue to the cleavage of your breasts.

“Shouto!” You squeak as you shove his jaw up, his eyes locking on yours confused and drowning with lust.

“What’s wrong, love?” Shouto asks as a strand of hair falls into his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Is this how you meet everyone under the mistletoe?” You pant as your mind is racing too many thoughts a second, you can’t keep up as there is a heat building in you. A heat that begged you to get over your shyness and just let him kiss you in such a lewd way. But this wasn’t Shouto, it couldn’t be.

“I’ve never been under a mistletoe before,” Shouto mumbles as his lips press together. In this brief hesitation, it seems that he remembers something. “Who have you… met under the mistletoe…”

Your face warms as you sigh, it wasn’t a memory you much enjoyed.

“It was Bakugou, but only because the damn store owners were so insistent on it!”

This confession made Shouto still. His eyes turning a near black with emotions you hadn’t seen on his face in quite a while.

“Shouto? Are you okay--mmph?!”

His lips were back over yours immediately. His bruised lips fervently danced against yours as he held his right hand to the back of your neck and the other firmly onto the small of your back. His kiss was demanding, sultry, and overwhelming.

Your questions of his emotions out of your mind as your ass hit the porch railing. The cold snow burning through your dress made you cry out, and Shouto’s tongue presses into your mouth. Your back arches as his left-hand leaves your body. It slams against the railing and the snow melts, and the tongue in your mouth warms you as you shudder in his hold.

Not wanting to be manipulated like this, you ignore how your body feels like it’s melting in his hold. Your mouth suckles onto his tongue. Your hands fist into his hair, making him moan into your mouth as you tug on it sharply.

You can feel the falling snow hitting your cheeks, but your body temperature has spiked so high that it melts before it can make complete contact.

Ripping your mouth from his, your lips trail down his neck, nipping and sucking hickies onto his pale skin. The harsh pants that escaped his mouth and the shaking of his form further incited you as your painted lips met the collar of his shirt.

“Should we go back to my place?” You ask as you pull away, your hands fisting around his tie as you look into his lust-fueled eyes.

“I thought you said we had to do it under the mistletoe?” Shouto questions, his upper lip in almost a sneer as he uses your hands to loosen his tie. Your eyes widened as he stripped off his jacket. He placed it onto the railing that was turning the snow into steam whenever it made contact. “Did you take Bakugou home after finding yourself under the mistletoe with him?”

The words were a near snarl, his eyes angry, his face jealous.

Some part of you wanted to utilize this. You wanted to use this surplus of emotion Shouto was emitting to get him to fuck you against this railing. Another part of you, a louder part of you, demanded to know what was wrong.

“Why would I bring Bakugou home?” You ask as you take Shouto’s flushed cheeks in your hands. “It’s mistletoe, not a porno.”

Shouto blinks once, twice, thrice.

“W-What?”

“Mistletoe, not porno,” you repeat confused. “Shouto, you’re supposed to kiss under the mistletoe.”

It’s then that Shouto’s body freezes. His eyes widening as he stares at you.

His face flushed, lips were swollen from kissing, and hair messy.

“You’re… you’re not supposed to fuck?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he shakes his head.

The small sentence causes your heart to beat wildly as you stare at him, your hands moving from his cheeks to your mouth. “NO!” You squeak as Shouto takes a step back from you, his head dropping.

Coldness envelopes you as Shouto nods his head, “I’m sorry for forcing myself on you, y/n. I… I should go.”

You watch as Shouto turns on his heel, his back stiff as he walks towards the door.

Everything in you screams at you to make him stop, pleading that you pull him back and say you’ll still fuck him. The kissing itself had ignited a fire within you. And there was nothing else you wanted but Shouto to subside the need and desire that had built within you.

“I like you,” you reel as you find yourself taking several steps forward as Shouto’s hand touches the door handle. “I have feelings for you, and when I found out that I could kiss you tonight I took the chance! I know you might be feeling a whole bunch of different emotions that I can’t list. But I want to let you know that I wasn’t letting you do that because of the mistletoe, Shouto! I genuinely really like you and I was going to let you fuck me against the porch railing I was that ready.”

Shouto is frozen at the door, his back tense as his hand drops. You watch in what feels like slow motion as he turns around, his eyes locking on yours. It clicks, his confession is silent as he walks back towards you.

The world has gone silent as Shouto cuts the distance between the two of you before you could react. His mouth pressing against yours as you’re sent walking backward. Your hands grasping his biceps as you’re pressed against a familiar railing.

“I like you,” Shouto gasps against your lips. “Fuck, y/n, I like you so much.”

You don’t answer him as you instead sink your teeth into his lower lip, a groan leaving his mouth as you pull away. His eyes flash dangerously, something new stirring within him as your lips come crashing together again. In a tangle of lips and tongue, his hands leave your waist and grab your ass through the fabric of the dress. The cold is ignorable and the jacket around you is making you sweat as you moan into the kiss.

The melodious sound escaping your mouth stirs Shouto on and his leg slips between your thighs as you arch into him. His leg presses indescribably into your crotch, so you do what you must and grind your hips against his leg.

The grip on your ass tightens as Shouto begins to guide your hips into wide circles against his leg. The grinding pleasures you. The slowly building pressure overwhelming you as you whine against his mouth. His name escapes your mouth like a prayer, soft and hopeful as your mouth suckles against his tongue.

“It’s too hot,” you whimper as you pull away, Shouto trying to follow you with his mouth as you tilt your head. His wandering lips press against your neck and you sigh as you shift to take off the jacket.

“You’re going to get sick,” Shouto warns. His hands leave your rotating ass as he tries to slip the coat back over your shoulders.

Taking his hands and instead press them onto your breasts. As his eyes shifted to your breasts, you dropped your coat to the floor and you stare at him with a growing smirk. “Then you better fuck the cold away.”

His eyes take you in and he slowly nods, his hands groping your breasts as he growls in response, “Don’t think I won’t.”

“Big words for a virgin,” you moan as warmth spreads throughout your body.

“Those are fighting words for someone who’s at my mercy,” Shouto snaps as he pinches your side.

A pained moan escapes your lips as Shouto’s teeth sink back onto your neck. His tongue then lashing out to smooth the wound that was left in its place. He continues to mark your neck as your gasping praises and grinding hips gives him the confidence to continue. His touch is intoxicating and you find yourself whining for more, begging that he do more. Finally, with a deep chuckle, Shouto pulls away from your neck, his lips red and raw.

His eyes trace your body as his hand’s trail from your breasts back onto your ass. Your eyes widen as he picks you up as if you weigh nothing, his hands massaging your flesh as he places you onto the rail. A low sigh escapes your lips at the feeling of the warm wood underneath you.

Your chest heaves with your quickening breathing as you see that this position gives Shouto the perfect entrance to fuck you out here.

There wasn’t much you could do outside. With snow blanketing the world, your friends indoor, and both you and Shouto craving the other there was only so much you could do. Fully expecting Shouto to start unbuckling his pants, your eyes shot open as he lifted the skirt of your dress. His heated fingers trailing up your cool flesh.

Trembling you watched as his fingers reached your panties. His finger stroking your folds as your hands held tightly onto his shoulder. Your pussy aches for more. Your panties soaked from the thigh riding and the being so overwhelmed with emotions for Shouto.

You can do nothing as you feel your panties being peeled from your skin. The soft fabric trailing down your legs and you watch as Shouto looks at them before pocketing them. A smirk overcomes his facial features as you watch him. He takes your wrists in his right hand and moves them behind your back. Your eyes widen as a familiar sound hits your ears.

“I might be a virgin, but I’m not a prude,” he whispers into your ear as cold ice encloses your wrists. “You have only a few minutes to get yourself to cum against my fingers, or else… well, I don’t want to find out.”

Unintentionally, you whimper in both pleasure and pain as the coldness seeps through your skin and your pussy throbs at the threat. Should you heed his command or make him recant. As you contemplate that, you rub your legs together. The slickness of your essence much more noticeable without the fabric in place, and you moan.

Shouto smirks as he looks at your moving legs, and he takes his left hand to trace your inner thigh, teasingly, barely touching your skin. Your eyes flutter as they brush against your slit right before he plunges two fingers into your wet heat. Cursing his name, your walls tremble against him as you press your forehead onto his shoulder. His fingers are warm, but your heat is even warmer.

“Is something wrong?” He feigns innocence as his fingers curl against your wall. They circle within your cunt as you whimper lewdly.

“N-No!” You stammer. The freezing sensation of the ice is almost ignorable with his fingers beginning to push within you. He nods as he begins to move his fingers slowly. Your body squirms in his hold as he increases his speed. Soon his fingers pump within you at unimaginable speeds, your head throwing backward at the pleasure. Your hips find themselves bucking against his fingers as you mewl.

The ice begins to burn as his thumb brushes against your clit.

Your eyes clench close as you surge forward. Your lips pressing against his as you attempt to stop your loud moans. Shouto swallows your moans as he continues to pound his fingers in you. A third one soon entering as his thumb flicks against your clit.

So close, you’re so fucking close.

You can feel the pressure building in you, the coil tightening as you cry out his name, pleading for him to make you cum. Shouto muses at your desperation but does not relieve you of your desires as his fingers leave your cunt. You cry at the expulsion, your pussy craving for him to reenter your needy cunt.

Instead, your wrists are set free from their icy cage. Your skin feels like its burning as Shouto places his fingers into his mouth. He's licking your essence off his skin and you whine at the visual.

“I decided that I want you to come around my cock instead,” Shouto chuckles as you glare at him.

“You’re a dick,” you whine as you watch as Shouto loosens his tie after removing his jacket.

“You’re the greedy one who wanted to fuck right here,” Shouto hums as he unbuckles his belt. You stare at him feeling your pussy throb at the impending sex.

Your eyes fall onto his cock as his pants bunch at his knees, and your mouth dries at the sight of him. Eight inches and thick, his hand fists against his length, low grunts escaping his mouth as he steps near to you.

“Are you okay with this?” Shouto asks as the head of his cock brushes against your wet folds.

You nod your head as you shudder at the sensations that run through your veins, “Yes, are you?”

He nods too as he grunts softly. He begins to grind his cock against your folds. The increased pressure than what he was doing before makes you moan as he coats himself with your juices. Your hands hold onto his biceps as he continues to move his cock between your folds. teasing your clit instead of penetrating you and you whine in protest. The stimulation of your clit appreciated but you wanted him to fill you up.

“Will you just fuck me already?!” You rasp as you pathetically circle your hips against his length.

Shouto chuckles as he locks eyes with you, “Maybe.”

Your mouth opens to argue, but you’re cut off by him pushing himself into your needy pussy without warning. His length barely fits entirely within you, and his girth causes your head to spin as he stretches you out. “FUCK!” You hiss as your head presses into his collarbone.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Shouto shudders as your walls spasm against him, overloading him with sensations as he tries to calm himself. “Y-You’re so fucking tight.”

“Move, Shouto,” you beg eagerly needing more friction from him. “Please fucking move.”

With a grunt of confirmation, Shouto rolls his hips. You curse as his hips move outward before bottoming back into you. Your hips move in time with his, and intermingled moans resonate within your now joined mouths. His thrusting picks up speed the more comfortable he gets. His moving hips slamming against yours as you cry into his mouth. His hand grips your waist as he pulls you from the railing, one of your legs hooked around his waist as the other shakily stands. He slides his other hand down your back so that he can cup the bottom your ass. It’s a stretch and it adds to his vigorous thrusts into your cunt.

The feel of Shouto’s pelvis slapping against yours is your remedy — you’re craving him even more and he is well aware of that fact.

You’re swelling with euphoria and lust when he decides to amp up your pleasure by bringing his right hand to your clit. His fingers circle against your clit with his ice-cold touch, it shocks you as your heated body jerks under the new temperature. With the added temperature play, it feels as if your body is breaking under his will. Your pussy clenching at sensations he’s giving you. Your hips rolling against his pounding hips, and he moans in return to how your walls clench against him.

Your head lolls to the side as you’re overwhelmed by the blazing heat in your core. The pressure of your cunt heavily evident throughout your entire body. You needed to keep it together, you wanted to keep going. The head of his cock finally comes to press against your sweet spot as he shifts your hips and you shriek.

“Fuck! Please, right there!” You beg as Shouto shakily nods, his hips coming to snap into that same spot over and over. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you’re no longer able to speak. You’re completely overpowered by his snapping hips.

“Will you come for me,” he groans out, his voice a pleading hope.

Your head nods frantically as you're unable to trust your voice. The action satisfies Shouto as he hisses lowly. Faster and harder, his fingers switch from pressing small circles to large figure-eights on your clit, while his hips slamming faster into you. You can’t handle the pleasure any more, and you feel your high coming.

“Shouto,” you gasp as he presses a kiss against your mouth again. His hands moving to lift you up, you can only cry in pleasure as he slams your back against a pole. His hips continuing to snap into you at insane speeds. You’re not able to keep up as sparks ignite in your veins as he slams into you over and over.

Your orgasm hits your body and it’s as if you’re falling away into ecstasy. Your mind spinning and dazed from the continuous world-altering sensations. You cry out his name as he still continues at his unmerciful pace. That is until he suddenly pulls out and drops you onto your shaking legs.

Whining at the loss of his cock, and the fact that you’re now on your feet, you open your shut eyes and stare at him unable to speak.

“Turn around,” he growls. You can’t believe he wants you to go for his own orgasm with you in a whole new position. Was he really a virgin you question as he fists his cock as you reposition yourself onto the railing. Your chest presses weirdly onto the wood as your knees buckle, and you look over your shoulder to see Shouto raising the skirt of your dress.

Shouto doesn’t ask to insert himself in you again. Your fingers grip the railing as he slams back in and you let out a sharp cry as you seize forward.

He starts up a brutal pace with his hips slapping against your ass with each and every thrust. Your hands move to your mouth as you cry as you rock forward with every thrust. His hips remain steady as his pace accelerates. You watch on a dazed high as snow falls onto your moving hair. Your fingers shoved into your mouth like a gag as he grips your hips. You use all of your willpower to push your hips back against his to meet him thrust by thrust.

Slowly, he starts to vocalize more and more. His lips moaning your name and crying out. He keeps one gripping hand on your hips while the other slips to your clit. Your mind snaps as he begins rubbing meticulous shapes onto your puffy nerves.

You can tell he’s close.

He’s chanting your name against your spine like some mindless prayer to you. His hot breath fanning onto your exposed skin. The hand on your hip grips you tighter, definitely bruising your skin. So you grip the railing with one hand and the other remains in your mouth.

“Are you ready?” Shouto growls while nipping at your skin. “Ready to take my cum?”

“Yes! Please, Shouto!” You choke out from your fingers, the pleasure and overstimulation reaching their tipping point once again.

“Then fucking come.”

Your toes curl as you let out a sob of pleasure. Your arm is unable to support yourself anymore as you let your torso slam against the railing. The circles on your clit finally stop and your abused cunt clenches around Shouto’s cock. Your body reaches its second orgasm of the night, and Shouto arrives with you.

He cries out a “Fuck!” and your name as his speed spills within you. It’s the loudest he’s been all night, which makes you whine at the sound of your name being said so vulgarly from his mouth. As your cries become breathless pants, you press your hands against the railings. The saliva on your fingers turning cold as the two of you stand still for what feels like some time. You feel him slide both of his hands on top of yours to intertwine with yours as cum spurts out of his cock, filling you up.

He rubs circles on top of your hands with his thumbs as he slides himself out. The feeling of him gone makes the both of you whimper at the loss of each other’s fill. You feel some of his cum seep out, and you shudder at the emptiness your cunt now feels.

You slowly stretch back up, your body hurting and now quickly turning cold with the lack of his heat.

Shouto is two steps ahead of you as he grabs your tossed coat from the floor and wraps you tightly within its fabric. “There,” he smiles as he pulls up his own pants, his face still flushed for different reasons.

You giggle as you shake your head, “Did I really get dicked down because of mistletoe?”

A snort escapes Shouto’s lips as he nods, “You did.”

“Well, I do like you, Shouto,” you whisper as he finishes dressing. “It’s not just because of the mistletoe.”

“I know,” Shouto whispers as he takes your cheeks in his hands. “And now this is me asking you on a date and if you’d like to be my girlfriend.”

Joy fills your heart as you laugh softly. “I’d love to be,” you say as your lips meet his in a gentle kiss right under the mistletoe.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

taglist (message to be added):

@flayvus @antigenius @mariahschoices @cherry-pie-shay @the-secret-thief @vampire-dumbass @monst

[harrystyleswatermelon-sugar]

Gas station encounter - Part III

Part II

The weeks pass and to our surprise, Anna gets better each day. She even started walking around the hospital a week after Harrys visit. I don’t understand it but I have learned to accept those little miracles, they happen very rarely.

I haven’t heard from Harry since then and we haven’t met at the gas station yet but I have enough to do at work, so I only think about it, when I get gas once a week.

I have the night shift today and sit in my little office with the door open so anyone can enter anytime. I look at some blood work results, as I hear a slight knock in the doorframe. It´s Anna standing there in her little nightgown.

“Hey, sweetie. What´s up? Bad dream?” I ask her and smile. She comes in barefoot with no face mask on, I allowed her to go without one a few days ago because her last three results came back very good looking.

“No, I dreamt of ice cream and now I am hungry and can´t sleep anymore,” she says and rubs her eyes. I laugh and shake my head. Nice try.

“So I guess it would be better if we organize you some ice cream?” I ask and she beams at me nodding. I sigh and get up, hearing her footsteps behind me. I lead her to our small coffee kitchen with a very small freezer and grab each of us a magnum.

“How are you feeling? I haven’t had much time for you the last days, I know that and I am sorry” I say and bite into the chocolate.

“I´m feeling great, just touch this” she says and puts my hand on her head. I can feel a bit of a stubble and smile. This is a miracle.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I don’t understand it, but I don’t care as long as you are getting better and better each day. Your parents are coming in two days to talk to me, right?” I ask her and she nods smiling, eating her ice cream.

“Do you think, I might be completely healthy again? Maybe it is because of Harrys visit. Since then I´m feeling so much better” she suggests and I smile. I don’t think that it is possible to get healthy because you were happy to meet someone but I won´t destroy her little dream.

“Maybe, we won´t know I think. But I am glad I could bring you some joy that night”

“Are you two in contact? Maybe he can come and visit again? He was so nice and so handsome” she whispers and we chuckle. She is right, he was nice and was handsome but I don’t even know how to talk to him.

“I am not in contact with him but I have his number…I don’t know what I could write to him. I am not good at such things”

“Just write what´s on your mind” she suggests and I smile of her simple and childish thinking. Sure I could, but that wouldn’t be very appropriate to write something like I like you, I miss you and you impressed me so much I can´t stop thinking of you when I am at our gas station. I always look for your face, but I don’t even know what I could say to you.

“That’s sadly not how it works in the adult world, Anna. But thanks for trying” I reply and throw away my waste.

“You do like him, don’t you?” she asks me and I shrug my shoulders. 

“He was nice and funny but I don’t have time to meet someone, you know that. And it's your fault that I like him because you fangirled so much about him that I couldn’t escape” we laugh and I look at her. She is really feeling better and I am thinking that she might go home soon. She yawns and I wink at her.

“Time to go to bed, young lady. Hush, hush” I say and she nods, while she walks back to her room.

In the early morning hours, the next shift arrives and I talk with Dr. Marc Seymour about the next steps in some of the kids' therapy. We even discuss if Anna should be allowed to go home soon and it starts getting really late. Around 8, two hours after my shift usually has finished, a soft knock at my office door interrupts our discussion.

I turn around and my eyes widen as I see Harry in the doorframe. He smiles and in his hands, there is a beautiful bouquet.

“Harry,” I say very intelligent and look at Marc.

“Hey, I heard that Anna is feeling better and I wanted to visit her. Wasn’t in town for a while but now I´m back” he says and looks at my colleague.

“Oh this is Dr. Seymour, this is Harry. I think Anna might have mentioned him or his band” I laugh and he smiles at Harry, extending his hand to him.

“Nice to meet you, it is so nice of you coming back to check on her,” he says and shakes his hand. I take off my medical gown and I can nearly feel his eyes on me.

“Well, I´m gonna do my routine check. See you tomorrow night, Y/N” he says and I nod, waving goodbye to him.

“She will be so happy to see you. She asked me last night if you would come again and she will love those flowers” I smile at him and grab my phone from my desk. I shut down the little light and the computer and walk towards him.

“Actually…the flowers are for you. But I can snatch one for Anna” he pulls a beautiful orange flower out of the bouquet and hands the massive thing to me. I am surprised.

“For me? Why?” I ask and turn light red, I do like the bouquet and I am flattered that he bought me one.

“Just a little thank you for your hard job. You are an amazing woman and I think your job is not appreciated enough” he says and I smile at him.

“Thank you, this is so nice. I never got flowers before” I didn’t mean to say it but it slipped through, mainly because I am tired as fuck I think.

“Never?” he asks and I shake my head. I try to let the subject slide and put the bouquet on my desk.

“Just for my birthday. Let´s visit her. She is feeling so much better lately” I beam at him and he shows me his dimples.

“I am glad to hear that. Lead the way” he puts his hand on the small of my back when I walk past him and he follows me closely to Annas room. I knock and enter and she squeals when she sees Harry. She jumps in his arms and he laughs, hugging her tight.

I proceed like the last time, just sitting there and observing how he handles her and how they laugh and talk like old friends. I can feel how my eyes close from time to time and I have a really hard time staying awake.

“Hey, Y/N. Come on, I will take you home” I hear Harry's deep voice and feel a light touch on my hand. I must have fallen asleep for some time.

“Oh sorry…no need. I have my car here” I reply and yawn behind my hand. Harry shakes his head and I see Anna rolling her eyes at me.

“Let him take you home, you are way too tired to drive,” she says and I smile at her. She can be really bossy.

“She is right, there is no way I am going to let you drive by yourself,” he says and takes my hand, to help me get up. I stumble against his chest and he holds me pressed against him, to stop me from falling.

“Sorry” I mumble and stand straight up. He smiles down at me and I can feel his hands on my hips and the heat in my cheeks. He is a bit flushed too and when I step back I can feel his grip tighten a bit before he lets go of me.

“I hope you will visit me again sometime, Harry. Thank you for your visit” Anna says and I laugh because it sounds so formal. They hug and he kisses her cheek before we leave.

I grab my flowers and my bag on the way out and when we arrive in the car park I say:

“I can go by myself, really. Did it often enough”

“No way, get in. You are not driving” he says and opens the door to his big black car. I sigh and get in.

“But I live really far outside of London”

“I don’t care, I would take you to Moscow. It´s too dangerous” he closes the door and gets in on the drivers side.

I tell him where to go and after a forty-minute drive, he stops in front of my flat.

“Here we are” he smiles and I feel the obligation to ask him up for a tea.

“It´s okay, you need to sleep. But maybe we can meet up tomorrow and I invite you. I can take you to the hospital to get your car and we can stop and get a coffee…if you like” he suggests and I smile happily at him. Very thankful that he declined my offer to come with me.

“I would like that. Tomorrow at 10 AM?” I ask and he grins.

“Sounds good to me. Goodnight, Y/N. Until tomorrow” he leans towards me and I hold my breath as his soft lips touch my cheek.

“See you tomorrow and thank you for taking me home” I yawn again and he giggles. I get out and close the door, waving one more time as he leaves. In my flat, I put the flower in some water and smile. I take a picture and send it into our girl group chat because they were asking too if I would make a move on him. Everybody seems to assume I fell for Harry but I doubt that it is more than a light crush.

Part IV

Well hello there, lovelies. It is officially my first attempt with a GIF in my chapter :D

I hope you all appreciate it. I started a taglist for this Miniseries, so if you wanna join, leave a comment. Or leave a comment if you don´t want and just tell me what you think about all of this. 

Love you all, thanks for the response. 

Love, Julia xx

Taglist:

@wotamelonsugar @lanallaa @highladyofelfhame-remastered

[oberynmartell]

the hour of the wolf part v

[Prologue | Part One] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV] 

"I've got you, omega. My omega."

Rey allowed herself a moment to luxuriate in the words after they were uttered by the massive man before her, the unflinching certainty and aplomb that had been present in his deep voice making her lips tremble, her knees nearly giving out beneath her at the look in his dark eyes as he spoke.

She had spent so many years on her own in the barren wastelands of Jakku, working her callused fingers bloody to find enough salvage to trade for food that day, trudging through the sand each night to return to an empty home where her only company were her daydreams and the whip of cold desert wind. She had been utterly and completely alone, dreaming about the day her parents would come for her— when someone would come for her, to tell her they loved her, that they cared for her.

After so many years of unending isolation and loneliness, it was almost overwhelming to be in Ben's presence now. To see him standing before her, pledging his care, his protection, his affection, for the rest of her life, promising that he would carry her not only through this heat, but, from the unwavering sincerity in his soft eyes and the firmness with which he spoke, through all the heats to come.

Pleasure unfurled in the cavern of her chest at his words, filling and filling and filling until it overflowed. Rey's body flooded with affection, the pleasure brought on by his praise palpable in every charged moment that passed between them, every milimetre of distance between their bodies, every breath sharply exhaled from her heaving chest.

He claimed her, he wanted her— and just the thought of not spending the rest of her days alone made Rey feel as though she might burst from the warmth that spread through her chest and belly.

She preened under his attentions, captured in the cage of his strong arms as he planted them on either side of her, backing her against a tall oak tree that seemed to be trembling just as much as she. His eyes were black as the obsidian curls shining in the silver moonlight that bathed them, gazing over her as she stood before him, concealed only by the soft flush that coloured her cheeks and began to arc down her slim throat.  

He moved slow, deliberate, closing what little space lay between them, bowing his head to catch her earlobe between his front teeth and tug gently. She moaned, feeling his warm breath fan out across her neck, sharp teeth dragging down the arc of her jaw beside her ear, teeth marking her skin in a way her omega craved would stay forever.

Rey watched the rain fall down his face as it sprayed down from above, water arcing down his scarred cheek and over the corner of his soft lips and she could not help but lean forward to catch the water that fell from his skin like teardrop diamonds. His skin tasted like warmth and rain and sweet, southern spices, like all the comfort of a home she had so long ached for, like darkness and hunger and barely restrained desire. Like Ben— and Rey couldn't get enough.

Her lips pulled a soft bruise to the surface of his skin beneath the flushed gland on his neck, his moan reverberating through her as though it had been uttered flush just against the shell of her ear, and he tilted his head so that she could continue, could follow the line of his jaw, could lower her mouth to his throat and plant a hundred kisses there.

Ben groaned, more animal than man, hands clenched at his sides to keep from reaching for her. His hips jerked, twitching forward to grind against her belly, hungry, rabid, near feral with want, unable to resist the unbridled longing that coursed through him, thicker and faster and more potent than his alpha blood. Anxiety thrummed in his chest like the impetuous beat of a hummingbird's wings, a silent battle raging between alpha and Ben as the beast urged to protect and fuck and claim.

“Alpha...” she breathed, her voice clouded and far away.

He could smell the heat on her skin, could see the way a flush curled down her neck as it heated her, the hand not curled around his shoulder clutching weakly at her aching belly. The alpha within him reared, furious that Ben wasn't sating his omega's heat, wasn't keeping her safe and protected from this pain.

She wound her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him down towards her knowingly, rising up on her toes and urging his face down into the curved bend of her neck and shoulder.

He followed her lead, bending his head to nose at her gland, letting the tip of his aquiline nose drag along her neck as he breathed long and deep. He could feel himself ease almost at once, the scent of his omega causing a sedate, syrupy calm to twist through him like smoke from an extinguished wick.

She bent to nose at his gland, curling against him like a kitten as she scented him. Ben was happy to relinquish control for the moment as Rey sought out a proper taste of him, the bold omega grasping hungrily at his chest as her teeth grazed his gland, aching to savor the headiness of his skin, to swallow down his scent until she could memorize it, until it became part of hers.

A growl rolled through his chest like thunder, the way her tongue ran over his gland setting his teeth on edge, setting him on fire— so that he soon began to tremble with barely contained want, the hands that had fallen over her hips tightening until they were locked around her, holding her against him, rutting gently against her smooth belly.  

Ben was too far gone to bother with cockiness at the desperate whine that pulled up from the back of her throat as he pulled away from her. He grabbed the cloak he had been pulled free from its clasps around his shoulders and tossed the thick sheepskin mantle down at their feet until it blanketed the wet earth, and he sank to his knees before her, his umber eyes hooded and blown impossibly wide, the brown long ago swallowed by darkened lust.

Rey spread her legs wider for him and he growled, an apodeictic heat present in the way his hands smoothed over her waist, an undeniable urgency to how he spread his fingers along the backs of her bare hips and pulled her close enough to bed his head against her belly. The way his eyes swept over her was animalistic, barbarous, appraising her in a way that sent a wicked thrill of pleasure surging through her, a feeling of virtuous power flooding her at the idea that she had brought this man, this alpha, this prince, to his knees.

His palms were big and strong and warm against her naked skin, rough with the telltale calluses that told of his familiarity with a sword, and it sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain through her belly and down between her legs, her mind flooding with wonder as she imagined what his fingers would feel like on her arse, on her lips, on her cunt.

"Please, alpha." Rey breathed, her voice weak enough to be blown away by the wind. She could barely think, barely breathe, without his hands on her. She felt hunger like she had never felt before, desperate for his touch in any way, in every way, that it felt like she might actually die without it, without him.

"Come." said the Prince of Alderaan, and before Ben had even a moment to prepare she was upon him, crashing down into his body and sending them both tumbling to the forest floor, all grasping limbs and hungry mouths and cold, wet earth.

But he doesn't care about the cold or the rain or the dirt or anything at all, not with her in his arms, her lips besotting his face and neck with hungry, open-mouthed kisses, her eyes leaking big, fat tears that he hurries to kiss away before finally finally finally returning to her mouth.

Rey wriggled under his firm weight, made to roll on her belly and lift herself up on her hands and knees, but Ben stopped her with a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her back up toward him. "I would look upon you, omega." He growled, the rasp in his voice making her quiver, making slick run down the insides of her thighs.

Rey opened her mouth to speak, but the words gave way to a moan as he ran the flat of his burning tongue along the ridge if her gland, sucking greedily so that she could feel a jolt of tingling pleasure ripple through her from head to foot. She could only nod, taking the brunt of his weight down atop of her small frame with impressive resolve. His broad chest and muscled belly pressed flush against hers, the slide of skin on skin making her mouth water as the smell of arousal flowered in the air like fresh spring blossoms.

He bedded his head against the cavern of her breasts, his kiss swollen lips moving over each of her pert nipples as his hands roamed her body, smoothing down over her rounded hips, her shapely thighs, each of her lean, athletic legs.

She gasped as his lips closed around her nipple, her chest jutting unconsciously upward to seek further contact as his tongue swirled across the pert pink flesh, and the alpha was more than happy to oblige her silent request, mouth widening to pull her small breast into his mouth.

Ben wanted to memorise every inch of her, each of the sun spots that stood as a testament to her time in Jakku, each healed over scar from her years scavenging in the deserts, each one of the freckles that spattered over her skin like constellations in the night sky above.

His mouth followed the smooth plaines of her chest and down to her taut stomach, brushing light kisses across her sweet skin and nosing playfully at the thatch of hair between her legs. He could smell her sweat, her skin, her slick, pressing warm kisses across the divot of her waist, the rounded bones of her hips, the curve of her navel.

Rey trembled as he touched his lips to each extended hipbone, thinking that when she became his queen he would feed her ever delicacy, every treat, until the bones no longer protruded. Next came her thighs, twin curves of golden skin and sparse sunspots, tenderly caressed by soft, warm kisses as he made his way toward her inner thighs, the allure of tasting her too sweet to ignore.

He nosed at the thatch of fine hair between her thighs, so agonisingly close to her warm centre that it was all Ben could do not to bury his face between her legs and sup on her sweet, wet cunt until the silent Alderaanian forest came alive with the sound of his name as she screamed it.

“Please alpha!” she whined, high and hungry. Her eyes were blown wide and dark with lust and desperation, her parted lips seeking out the gland on his neck as though magically drawn there by the gods. She found she could barely speak, could barely think, so overcome with want for her alpha that she could think of nothing else. "I need— I need you."

He was so hard he could feel himself leaking, the way his cock pushed at the leather laces of his breeches tipping over the canal from discomfort into pain— and it was as though Rey could read his mind, for soon her fingers had migrated to his laces, hurriedly pushing his breeches down over his bare hips so that they pooled loosely around his thick thighs.

Rey pushed herself up on her elbows to shuck the breeches further down his legs, desperate to feel bare skin on bare skin, until nothing stood between them but words and wind. Her eyes caught on his cock, finally freed from its woolen prison and standing at attention between well muscled thighs, and her eyes glazed, so bright and edacious.

The Prince of Alderaan kneeled between her legs, the words she had opened her mouth to say suddenly giving way to a rapturous moan as he manoeuvred her legs around his hips and pressed his weight down into her.

His hands pressed down on either side of her head as he braced himself above her, caging her in in a way that she had never before thought she would enjoy. Her eyes followed the corded lengths of muscle that rippled across his forearms and chest as he held himself above her, bending at the elbow to nuzzle his nose against hers, playful even now— when his cock was hard as beskar steel and the rut she had triggered was half blinding him.

He lowered a hand between her legs, a dual gasp filling the air as both found the wetness that had gathered there, sweet and alluring as the pool just out of Tantalus' reach. Rey’s hips bucked at his touch, sparks popping just behind the eyes she screwed shut, overcome by the way his rough fingertips grazed over her folds. She gasped in pleasure and surprise and reached for him, carding her fingers through his dark hair, her fingers pulling just hard enough to make him grit out a low, animalistic growl.

His palm worked at the cock that hung thick and heavy between his legs. The sight made Rey’s mouth water, the slick that baptized her thighs growing as she saw the knot at the base of his cock had already begun to swell beneath his rough palm.

Rey met his gaze, dark eyes as desperate as his, as hungry. Ben's hips settle into the cradle of hers as he shifted his weight to rest over her, guiding his cock between the lithe legs that shone with slick and the marks of each warm, open-mouthed kiss he had laid there. Voices rise and meet and break apart in the cold air, moans of pleasure, of ravenous hunger, of relief, his cock slowly slotting into her as though it was made for her.

But then again, she supposed, it was.

She felt so good around him that the alpha could barely breathe, knowing then what he had known since the moment he had come upon her in the clearing, that he wouldn’t be able to last. Not when she gripped him like that, her cunt pulsing around his cock as she writhed and moaned, blunted nails digging into flesh as her arms tightened around his wide shoulders, hips lifting off grass as she silently encouraged he press more deeply into her.

It was a stretch her body had never experienced, a completeness that she had never felt, and as she turned her gaze up to look up at him, it was to find the same relief reflected in his dark eyes.

For all his scent had intoxicated her his cock was only better, so that soon her eyes were rolling back into her head, a half scream pulling from her lips and dissipating in the forest air like fog as his cock sheathed fully into her. The sound seemed to reverberate through the trees like echo against stone, the most erotic music he had ever heard.

Rey tasted so sweet he couldn't resist stealing another searing kiss. He leaning down to ravish her lips with his own, to taste her, to swallow the moans she offered and let his tongue move against hers until she was so breathless and he so lightheaded that there was no choice but to pull away.

He rolled his hips up against hers, knocking the breath from her lungs as he bedded his face against her neck, nosing at her gland and catching the sweat that beaded at the hollow of her throat with harried, hungry kisses.

Her body, intuitive, clever, programmed by nature to read the signals of his body, moved against his as an omega never had, for even though he had lain with other maidens no one had ever been able to read the tightness of his belly, the trembling of his thighs, the clench and pull of the muscles in his back, so that she seemed to know just where to touch him, tease him, taste him.

No one had ever seemed to be able to read him, to know him. But she did.

She always had. From the first time he had seen her in the forest all those years ago, standing opposite him, her fingers trembling as she launched arrows at his shoulders, his back. From the first time she had narrowed her eyes and spat at his feet, calling him names, calling him a monster, glaring at him as though he had struck her. She had seen his future, his present, his past, and she loved him anyway.

He could feel it in the way Rey touched him, caressed him, gentle and sweet— even now, when her heat burned through her so hot that if asked she might not even remember her name. Her long fingers combed through his rain soaked hair, brushing it back from his brow so it ceased to bother, as though somehow she had sensed his discomfort.

Her legs knotted around his hips, his head dropping down to her neck as though drawn there by a force unseen, and he can't resist drawing his lips across the flesh, feeling her gland pulse beneath his tongue. The swollen flesh was already sensitive from from the induced heat, mottled now after being gifted with so many beloved kisses.

"Next time I'll taste you. I'll make you come on my tongue." he moaned. "You taste so good."

The scent was intoxicating, the alpha within rearing at the way it appealed to him, called to him, begged that he claim her and take her scent into his own so that it would mark him forever. It was like summer rain on fresh trimmed grass, smokey autumn wind and cold spring water, like the fresh flowers his grandfathered had always gathered in the drawing room of the palace for his grandmother after each bloom.

"Sweet girl. Sweet omega." He breathed, lapping at her throat, her head turning away from him to offer better access to the nose that brushed against the underside of her jaw. "You're mine, aren't you? I'm gonna make you mine. Would you like that?"

She let out a guttural moan as he head of his cock struck something within her that made her back arch like a drawn bow. "I am." Rey promised, and it was only after she cried his name several more times that he realised she was no longer calling him Ben. "I already am."

Ben looked a tenuous mix of wrecked and beautiful, the moonlight that dripped down from above illuminating the shadows of his skin, emphasizing the muscle that flexed beneath his pale skin like waves over still water. Her blunted nails left long red scratches down his back and he hoped they left marks, hoped he could see them in the morning, hoped they scarred and he could look over his shoulder at them for the rest of his days.

"I know, love." he promised, affection and lust colouring his words like the redness that filled his cheeks. She could feel the way his thighs flexed with the force of the pleasure. "You're being so good for me. Such a good omega. Perfect." He could feel the way her cunt clenched around him at that, making him gasp out a curse, eyelids fluttering. "I'll take care of you, Rey. I promise. I always take care of whats mine."

She moaned loud as a crack of thunder, the forest once more coming alive with the sound of an omega in rapture, the sounds that proved the hunt was once more a success, as it had been when he was a child all those years ago.

He pressed a hand down on her belly so that he could feel the way his cock drove in and out of her. Sparks formed and burst and fizzled behind her eyes, her mind pressed so full of alpha and knot and yours that every other thought seemed to slip right away and before she could even speak.

Her hips jerk upwards as her peak washed over her, and in the throes of pleasure her cunt had gone were tight as a closed fist around his cock, her body quivering through the aftershocks of such overcoming pleasure, and he tipped her hips back and pushed them down to be able to keep her from jumping off the ground, the large hand he spread over her hips making her seem so small beneath him, so fragile.

The sounds of her moan screamed across the quiet clearing like a stone skimming across still water and it had the alpha grinning as his ego inflated, hoping in the back of his mind that they could all hear the writhing omega, that all of Alderaan knew she was his.

He was so close to his climax that he could practically taste the pleasure on his tongue, especially at the way her tongue had chosen to move teasingly over his gland, her mouths half muffled by the way she buried her face between his neck and shoulder.

Ben could feel her her lips parting at the side of his neck, where they had taken to sucking at the puffy skin of his gland, and the alpha knows at once what was happening, knows that the overstimulation of pleasure in heat has flooded her mind with the need to take him as he's taking her, to claim him as her alpha forever.

“No.” He managed at the last second, the rhythms of his hips stuttering.

Rey pulled away. For a moment she looked as though he had reeled back and struck her suddenly, the look of shock and hurt that crossed her face making his heart sink into the pit of his belly, the alpha in his chest roaring in rage.

“Omega—“ he called, letting his alpha influence seep into his voice, and caught her hands as she made to pull away. His cock throbbed, screaming that he move, that he come inside of his omega, but the hurt on her face had gutted him.

“I want to do it right." he said, the set to her dark brows shifting as she listened. "I want you to be my mate, my empress. I want you at my side, to rule Alderaan with me, to be my mate for as long as we both walk this earth. It has to...” He swallowed hard, hoping that the earnestness he felt showed on his face. “When I claim you it has to be part of the ceremony to make it official. It’s the tradition of the royal family. My mother and my grandmother and my great-grandmother...I want you to be mine, the proper way."

Her hands slid over his broad shoulders as she dropped her legs from around his hips, a hand of ice gripping his heart as she pulled back. He knew his eyes were glassy, watching as she extricated herself from his grip and pulled away, but he said nothing. His cock twitched absently, the alpha within languishing in the last few moments of knowing the pure bliss of being inside her, knowing that he’d never again know the feeling of such a perfect fit.

It was her choice, though it broke his heart, to decide which alpha she wanted to be hers.  

Rey pressed her palms flat on his chest and pushed gently, urging him backward and Ben did as he was told, inching off her until he sat flat on the cloak — but to his surprise the omega in hid lap didn’t ease off of him as he had anticipated.

Instead her grip around his neck and shoulders only tightened as she moved, maneuvering herself in a way that kept his cock from slipping out of her, and in that moment both Ben and alpha were so relieved to still be in her favour that they were more than happy to let control.

"Alpha..." she breathed, so soft that he nearly missed it. She let her legs fall open on either side of his lap, stretched wide by the thickness of his thighs, and as she settled onto his lap his knot throbbed at the tightness of her cunt as they shifted.

Rey pushed at his shoulders until Ben eased down onto his back, his hands automatically lifting to her hips as she wobbled uncertainly, and he stroked the soft skin there with his fingers. He basked in the heat of her skin and the smile she shone down at him, her skin scorching hot to the touch— hotter still as he dipped his head to nuzzle against her breast, inhaling her scent as though it were the only thing tethering him to this earth. His Rey of light, bright as the sun and just as warm.

Her chest was flushed pink all the way down to her nipples, a perfect parallel to the sweet soft pink of her cheeks, and she hissed gently as he claimed one between his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Rey nuzzled her cheek against his hair as he bedded his face against her breast, Ben watching through hooded eyes as she threw back her head and moaned in pleasure at the way he suckled at her breast. Her hips undulated urgently against his as she whined, high and needy, the sound of an omega in need drawing his attention back to her, between between her legs. He could see where his cock disappeared into her, and Ben, overcome at the sight, could only nod at her urgency, could only slide an arm around her waist and bring her back to him.

He pressed his open mouth to her gland and sucked with an exigence he had never felt before, the way Rey cried out, loud and bright and full of pleasure, making the patter of rain and the howl of wind seem like a whisper in comparison.

"You smell so good, omega." He groaned, cupping her breast in his palm and letting his thumb run over the pebbled ridge of her nipple. "You taste good, you feel good. Gods, I've never felt anything so good."

She moaned at the praise, the sound half muffled by the way she buried her face into his shoulder, her teeth nipping just hard enough at his collarbones to mark the skin with a trail of pink bruises. He rolled his hips up into her, feeling his cock slide between her folds as she arched her back, her body so smooth and soft against his that it was all he could do not to knot in her right then and there.  

His palm slid between them to press down on the bottom of her belly, making her choke out a gasp as they both felt the pressure of his cock driving in and out of her, hitting a spot within her that her fingers had never reached.

Ben stretched up to capture her lips, unable to resist kissing her again, to claim those kiss swollen lips and leet her tongue sweep across his mouth in a desperate search for a way to sate her hunger. He had seen her this way before, with her dark eyes wild with barely masked fire and her brow set and firm, an aura of unfettered passion surrounding her. He had thought her passionate then, when the cool blue-tinged steel of her sword had been pressed to his throat, its steel singing as it sliced through the flesh of his cheek and brow— but it was nothing compared to now.

She was so beautiful, wrapped up in his arms like that. Her small hands braced on his shoulders as she rode him like he were a prized stallion and she a practiced rider, her thighs gripping him so tight he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be locked between them. Her head was thrown back so that her dark hair could sweep over her bare back like braided strands of satin, falling through the fingers he combed gently through it, and her cheeks were alight with a pink flush that curled down her neck and over her bare chest as she moved against him in the throes of heat and longing and aphrodisia.

"You're so good, Rey. You feel so good omega. I could stay like this forever. Sweetheart, I could live like this." Rey preened at the words, omega and woman both caught in the rapture of his praise.

He could feel his knot swelling almost to full size as she ground her hips down into his, bracing her palms on his firm chest so that she could widen her legs and take more of him. His palm is big enough to cover the entirety of her mound, slipping between her warm thighs to reach toward the part of her he had so long ached to touch, to taste, to know as carnally, as somatically, as he knew the rest of her. His callused fingers moved through her folds, coating themselves in her unabashed wetness, obeying her need as she silently rolled her hips into his palm.

"A-alpha..." she moaned, feeling sparks of white hot pleasure jump through her like a spark across the jagged stone of a flint, like embers of a roaring fire crackling into the night sky.

The forest air was thick with sticky heat. It was as though her blood had been set aflame, as though not even the chill of a torrential downpour could cool her properly. Rey couldn't think of anything but how he felt inside of her, her mind washed free of everything except the way his cock moved in and out of her, the way his fingers circled her crest as though he were reading her mind, as though he knew just how she had touched herself, to the thought of him, the thought of this.

“Come, sweet girl.” Ben cooed.

His hand moved between her legs with practiced ease, the corners of his mouths quirking as he thought that this was the first time he had been able to touch her like this, to make her moan like this. It would be the first of hundreds, of thousands— for if Ben had his way he'd never spend another not slotted between her thighs, not touching her, not making her come on his cock and on his fingers and on his tongue.

“Come on, little one.” he grated, his voice so deep that it made gooseflesh run down her arms. He was unable to tear his eyes from her, her body laid before him clad in nothing but the cool water that dangled from her fingertips and eyelashes and nipples like teardrop diamonds. “I want to feel you come on my cock, omega. I want to feel you come on my cock like I’ve been dreaming of since that first time I saw you.”

As though to punctuate his point he jerked his hips harder than ever, making a scream pull from her lips before she could mask it. His hips had changed their rhythm, his arm snaking around her back and crushing her to him.

“You feel so—“ Rey moaned. Her voice was broken, a mix of breathily high and comically low that would have made her laugh in any other scenario.  

Her muscles ached with the way they stretched as they never had before, with the way her back arched and her hips writhed and stuttered, with the way her core pulses, her body electric with the need for relief that only her alpha can give her.  

She felt so full, so unbelievably, undeniably, unforgettably full, and despite knowing that she would feel the pain of his enthusiasm in the morrow Rey found she couldn't bring herself to care in the slightest. Not when his cock pulled tantalizingly out of her before slamming back in, not when his lips were at her gland and his hot tongue was running over the bare skin there.

“Don't be afraid." he began, teeth gritted as he watched his cock disappear into her, giving another deep thrust that hit hard enough to make him choke as he attempted to speak. “I feel it too.”

Rey stifled another loud scream, breathing shakily, the way his nostrils flared making her wonder what she smelled like now, if she smelled like an omega well pleased. His dark eyes reflected the images of a thousand words that swam tirelessly through them, all the words he wanted to say but found he couldn’t, all the words that had been pushed aside to make way for the moans and sighs that filled the air around them.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his thick fingers circling over the nerves at the crest of her folds. The rain fell hard over his back like a hundred dulled pinpricks, the way her nails dug into his bare shoulders making his hips shake. "Are you ready for my knot, omega?"

“Yes alpha.” she keened. Her skin felt tight, itchy, her cheeks so hot they could melt butter as well as warm bread. She arched her back, her chest pushed out toward awaiting lips and Ben was only too pleased to graze each breast with his teeth, nipping just hard enough to tip over from pain into pleasure. “I want all of you, Ben.”

The words make him utter an almost helpless moan, a deep, rumbling purr that's born at the base of his chest and reverberates through his body like a live wife, making her cunt clench around him.

Rey could feel the familiar pleasure of her peak begin to run its course through her body, a liquid heat that tickled at her spine and surged into her belly. She was filled with an almost blinding pleasure as he nosed at her neck, his tongue lapping at her gland while somehow still managing to whisper utterly filthy things against the shell of her ear, both his words and the low, thunderous tremble at which he spoke them doing wonders to increase her pleasure.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this." he grunted, crowding up into her space. He was so close to his climax that he could practically taste the relief on his tongue, the way his knot throbbed and tightened as foreign to him as it was to the omega that squirmed beneath him. "You're doing so good, omega. You're perfect, so perfect for me."

"Please, alpha." she begged, crying out in both pleasure and agony. "Please give me your knot. Alpha, please."

The hand not wrapped around his shoulder rose to his face, her soft fingertips moving over the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheeks, the pad of his lips, watching him through half-lidded eyes, her lust-darkened irises sweeping over his face as though she were studying him, mapping him, memorising him.

He rose up to nose at her hair, pressing kisses there that left her toes curling and her fingers grasping at his wide shoulders, pulling him closer closer closer. His lips found her gland again, closing over the swollen skin in a tight seal, his tongue lapping at her like she his first taste of water after years of desert heat, and he had barely began to taste it properly when she felt her pleasure burst forth.  

Pleasure exploded in front of her like a physical proxy, all heat and tightness and blind pleasure, and she was nearly bowled over by the sensation, by the way he didn’t let up on her, not even for a second, the push and pull of his cock, the gentle jerk of his fingers, the lazy drag of tongue on teeth and soft lips.

His pleasure crested as hers did, his knot anchoring them together as he filled her with wave after wave of hot spend, finally finally finally cooling the burning heat that curled through her body like sparks of fire catching on dry brush.

She screamed his name loud enough to pierce the silence of the forest like a clap of thunder, and it pleased him to to end know that in that moment, even in the midst of her heat, even as she met her orgasm headlong and unflinchingly, that she was thinking of him. Not his alpha, not his cock, not his seed or his gland or his bite. Just him.

Ben held her tight to him, roaring with his release, the alpha inside him banging its chest and rearing its head and shouting in pleasure as he finally achieved what he had so long wanted. His hips slowed as his come flooded her waiting body, wanting to fill her up as he had wanted to for weeks and weeks and weeks, and his lips found hers again. He claimed her lips once more, kissing her long and deep and slow, somehow completely at odds with the way she still stretched around his knot, with the way his cock continued to flood her with his spend.

She sank down on top of him, her legs falling on either side of his hips weakly, suddenly too exhausted to even lift herself any longer. Instead she settled against his chest, her ear pressed to the cavern of his broad chest, listening to the staccato beat of his tired heart and the kind words whispered against the shell of her ear.

"You did so well, omega." he crooned, instinct once more taking over to soothe his sated omega, feeling her sink into his arms.

The words fulfilled some goal within her she had never before thought of, her omega proud and preening within, pleased at the way she had made her alpha so happy. He brushed the hair from her face as he kissed her temple, telling her how good she felt, how much he had missed her, how glad he was to be hers.

He brushed the hair from her face, kissing her bare shoulder and letting his hand sweep lazily up and down her back, tracing shapes with his fingers that made gooseflesh pepper her skin. Ben wrapped his arms around her back, gently pulling her to lay across him, ever mindful of the knot that locked them together, and even as his cock continued to pulse and throb inside of her, completely sated, he could feel himself stir just ever so slightly as he looked between them and found his knot standing firm and heavy, slotted perfectly between here legs.

"I love you." he said quietly, pulling her dark hair through his fingers absently. The words were uttered softly, casually, freely, but there was an irresolute firmness hiding behind the words that proved their significance was not to be taken lightly.

Rey beamed at him, bringing her lips to the healing scar on his cheek and kissing it tenderly. He wanted to count her freckles, to spend the rest of his life memorising every inch of her face and her body and her mind, until he could recall every wonderful detail about her even in sleep, even in death.

She settled back into her place on his chest, her fingertips tracing absently around the curled tail of his scar, and when she spoke it carried an direct unreservedness that made the simple words come alive, made clear their meaning to Ben, even if she hadn't directly said the words. "I know."

[merrysithmas]

some POPPER-centric hcs:

I.

Boris and Theo celebrating Popper's birthday together for two years, waking up at two in the afternoon, blinds drawn tight - but not tight enough to banish the bright gleam of treasure chest gold that flares through the slits between them, 777 Vegas coin yellow, graffitiing malleable stripes of desert sun across the walls and crumpled sheets. Theo peeking a tired eye over the coverlet from under Boris' arm, little Popper’s big cookie-round ink eyes already awake and staring at him, tail wagging bashfully against the sheets in the silence.

Boris, who was snoring just a moment ago, starts up, suddenly, electrified, hollering a gasping realization that sounds something like, “Moy malchik!” The sound pops a breaker in Theo’s brain, letting loose a migraine from last night's bender, which is evidenced by the toppled pill bottles (Xandra's), the semi-collapsed beer cans and the vague memory of Boris' stoned over-confidence ("Potter! Look - against my head - watch - I bet I can - like the movies!"), and the ultimately ignorable ache of his hamstrings.

At Boris' startling exclamation Popper lets loose an exuberant tirade of ungodly shrieking, like set off by the crack of a gun at race he was raring for, immediately licking Boris' morning-slick skin, teenaged greasy and gross, and Boris is laughing so loud that the walls almost shake, as they are so regularly starved and thin of joy. And Theo sits up, wincing (that phantom ache again, inadmissible memories) and leans on his elbow, reaching out to pat the wild little thing who quickly turns on him, "Ok - Happy birthday! Happy birthday!"

II.

Boris and Theo washing Popper in the sink - he reeks. Sickly sweet rotten fruit-smell compounded with the wet mildewy stench of old laundry, distinctly intermixed with the odor of shit. Popper’s yelping echoes through the kitchen like an antique car horn, petrified, claws rigid on the edge of the sink, braced for continued frantic attempts to flee his sudsy prison and energized with bouts of fervor not entirely unlike a demonic possession. The one overhead light fixed accusatorily above the kitchen sink makes the whole set up look like an interrogation room - worlds away from the girly relaxing grooming videos they found on Youtube.

“Potter! Not this way!" Boris screeches - voice cracking like it has been lately - exacerbated in its rawness by the cheap, caustic brand of cigarettes he smokes. Lately they’ve been meeting the parched maw of his chapped lips like a consecutive line of ants, one after the other, his fingernails yellowing. Popper shakes violently, way before Theo is ready and can throw the ratty towel across his drenched body, whirling like a windmill, fur centripetal and spiralling, soaking their filthy t-shirts flat onto their bony bruised limbs.

“Oh, Popper," Boris outright coos, followed by a placating barrage of what is unmistakably a grandmotherly coddle of (likely) Polish. "You look just like Potter!" he declares, finally discarding his ciagrette, which dims in the puddle on the counter as it sucks up water. Theo grabs it as it does, revives it, takes a long, charring drag of nicotine and tar. His eyes narrow behind his glasses, observing the drowned-rat Maltese, frigid and shaking to its bones, and completely hates how Popper's forlorn appearance quite accurately recalls his own reflecton, just in from the pool, hair flat to his head, eyes big and, somehow always, helpless.

III.

Boris and Theo say goodbye to Popper when he is fifteen. Congestive heart failure - a diagnosis so deleterious and uncomfortably human Theo finds it hard to believe when the middle-aged vet ("Dr Janet", purple earrings, thick rectangular glasses - incense burning, loose leaf tea drinking, National Park lover) breaks it to him. She seems to understand the frozen bones in his shoulders and his unexpected quietness better than he does, leaving the room before he notices she’s gone.

Even in the darkest edges of his flayed existentialisms Theo never found room for dogs. Dogs, he supposes for the first time, in an achingly unfair realization, with their bright renewable resource of happiness (which they often give freely even to the undesevering, or unknowning, or unappreciative) are immune to such nihilistic musings. Popper stares at him from the table, ragged and old, too heavy in the middle and too thin on the edges, breathing all wrong. How did - all that time pass?

Boris, on video-chat in Kyyiv, up to no nefarious deed (he insists) is the one, for once, startled by Theo’s harsh red eyes, like he's been doping too much again, but there’s no dope - just a clinical setting and a hard shuddering breathing, from somewhere offscreen, quiet like it’s coming from a baby in crib.

Boris, like a knitted sweater, so often and inevitably pulled in many different directions until he disappears, seems to swat away half a dozen Non-English speaking acquaintances before the line goes quiet on his end and Theo can actually explain what is going on. The way he touches the screen on the video chat with his fingertips when Theo presents it to Popper (“Let me see him please,” Boris had asked, with no hidden heartbreak) makes Theo’s chest crush inward like the emotional equivalent of the impact of a car accident.

Boris says no at first, when Theo makes the suggestion, no let him go when he's supposed to, not yet, then: let me see him first, and makes it all the way to JFK before his phone rings. He doesn't answer, won't, but when he walks in the jingling door from the merciless city rain, the black tails of his coat dragging water, all sharp angles and dark shadows, he already knows.

“He couldn’t wait anymore,” Theo says. And when he meets Theo’s cherry red eyes, Boris doesn’t yell, or get angry - he cries. Right there in the lobby - he cries. Hands shielding his eyes, like a boy cowering beneath the shade of an umbrella.

IV.

Later they bump coke in the bathroom of Gramercy Tavern, shitfaced at the table, “Remember when he ate Xandra’s G-string?” Theo says so loudly it rings across the room like a papal blessing.

“Aha! Yes! So sneaky. Little pervert! Gets that from you! And the time he shit in the grocery store? Aisle 12?”

The memories pour out: “His fucking pink collar with the bell on it.” “How he howl like - ooo ooo oooo! So annoying! Always in the morning! Yes, Popchyk! I’m coming!” “Oh when we caught him fucking The Playa’s chihuahua?” “да, I told him he could do better! He was nice boy she was not so nice. Still, he got more ass than either one of us,” Boris says fondly, proudly, and clinks his shotglass to Theo for what seems like the hundreth time.

“Something deeply not right about catching a Maltese in the throes of passion,” Theo says, blinking long-disturbed eyes behind the dewy lenses of his glasses. Boris seems to agree, with a noncomittal grunt, and puts a heavy, vice-like grip onto Theo’s shoulder, shaking him until he looks up.

“Like a teddy bear getting a blowjob,” he says, and Theo laughs a half-choked laugh. They’re both crying. They’re both fucking crying.

“To Popchyk née Popper, G-string sniffer, pillow hat, accomplished singer,” Theo sniffs, sitting up straightly from his messy, hunched position over the table, head back against the booth. Boris meets his eyes, they’re both such a fucking mess. “And friend.”

“Vichnaya pamyat,” Boris says formally, in response. Theo smashes his glass, agreeing.

“Eternal memory.”

V.

“Open any one! Any one you want!” Boris crows happily, the tip of his nose red like he’s been outside in the cold but he hasn’t, not for hours, and the sloshing bottle of Christmas cheer which is sitting (carelessly, without a coaster, Theo notices with disdain) on the mahogany side table is nearly empty at only half past noon. “Oh! My big mistake!” Boris makes a big show of putting his hand to his chest in guilt, elevating the bottle and placing it on top of a book instead. “блядь,” he scoffs.

“I know what ‘bitch’ in Russian is,” Theo answers, wrapped warmly in a woolen Burberry pullover, burgundy, with the festive forest green cuffs of his starched button up curling around the ends of his sleeves. Snow is falling outside like white wafting butterflies, the stone Antwerp architecture nestled under frost, Tchaikovsky on the speakers hooked up to Boris’ sentimental iPhone.

“I know!” Boris says cheerily, gesturing towards the presents beneath the tree with a sweeping, encouraging hand. “Any one!”

Theo rolls his eyes, but as they land on the smattering of gifts wrapped festively on the dark hardwood floor his mood lifts. Picking up a small one, dark matte navy blue with a silver ribbon Boris exclaims offendedly -

“No! Any one!” he repeats, taking the blue one out of Theo’s hands and replacing it with a rather less elegant medium-sized red box, bundled together with a haphazard green string. “This one!”

The oddly-weighted box quivers in his grip, a strange feeling which sends an unexpected thrill of fear through Theo, “What is this.”

“Open!” Boris goads. “Just look!” he seems pleased with himself, taking another long hit off the joint that is smoking in the ash tray and then rubbing his palms together and leaning forward over his knees, eagerly like a kid.

The box is easy to open, just a cover over a base, which Theo lifts to reveal the small fuzzy face of a tiny, tiny round dog, so extremely gay, circular in the face like a teddy bear, pawing at the side of the box.

“You like her?” Boris asks with the trepidation of new fallen snow, peering over Theo’s shoulder.

The puppy stares at him, unblinking and cherubic, and softly licks Theo’s nose. It happily lets out the shrillest bark from its tiny lungs, a sound so high-pitched it makes the bells on the tree tingle in the vaguest memory of tinnitus.

“Ah, бубенчик Popchykova!” Boris laughs.

Theo hoists the little thing up, blinking tree lights ensconsing the ball of its fuzz, an ornament-shape itself - the puppy wriggles disorganized limbs in midair, pawing innocently for warmth and closeness. Somehow smaller, more effeminate, and more annoying than his last dog. He loves her already. Round cookie-shaped eyes and a bark that splits his skull. And the name?

It fits.

[peachywise]

nullify part 5

an umbrella academy fanfiction // klaus hargreeves x reader

- part v: the disrupting, devilish, and demanding deal || part i ⋆ part ii ⋆ part iii ⋆ part iv ⋆ part vi ⋆ more parts to be released

- synopsis: Finally, the truth of the Hargreeves story comes out. It's a little hard to believe, but what's even worse is what exactly they need your help for. Vanya, you're happy to deal with, but Klaus? Looks like you two are going to be spending a great deal of time together as well.

- notes: hello oh gosh okay i am sorry this hiatus was so long but i am 100% done all my exams so i am officially back at it and writing actively. expect next chapter out soon and it will be a good ol funny fluff klaus heavy chapter okay i love you all i'm sorry, adios

link on ao3 

____________________________

“Do you want to put your pants back on?”

“No,” Klaus smiled, flopping down next to you on the couch and wrapping his arm tightly around your shoulders.

“Then off you go,” you smiled politely back. He gave you a sort of quirked, curious look, but you quickly shoved him off on to the floor before he could figure out your intentions. “I came here to get answers, not to get diseased.”

Klaus mock gasped, while Luther tried to suppress his half-snort laugh from behind his rather large hand. Klaus just crawled halfway across the floor to where he had dropped his pants and slipped them back on— struggling a bit because wow was that leather tight— mumbling incoherently under his breath.

“So, who’s going to be the one to tell me why exactly I’m here?” You questioned, pulling your legs up and crossing them under you, looking from Klaus, to Luther, and then at Five. All three looked at each other as if they hadn’t exactly thought this far ahead. Lovely.  Five sighed as he sat on the chair across from you and leaned slightly forward, clasping his hands together as a serious look befell his face.

“I guess I’ll start at the beginning. Just hold off on any questions until the end, it might be a bit hard for you to believe.”

You couldn’t hold back your laugh as you leaned back comfortably. “We were all born to mothers who hadn’t really been pregnant and have powers because of it. You’re afraid your story will be too much for my mind to comprehend? Have a little faith in me.”

Five raised an eyebrow, and Klaus moved back to sit beside you once his pants were properly back on. “Oh, you say that now.” Klaus smiled, giddy in his fidgety excitement, “but personally, I can’t wait to see your reaction.”

“Klaus,” Luther grumbled in an almost warning gesture. Klaus ignored him.

Jesus, you didn’t have time for this.

“For fuck’s sakes, will one of you just spit it out already!”

A moment of silence followed your outcry, but then rather unceremoniously, Five stated point-blank, “we’re from the future and traveled back in time to stop the apocalypse from happening.”

And then, like the clever little slice you are, you allowed yourself a moment of silence as well. You couldn’t even hear your breath, a pin drop, a mouse scurrying across the house, yadda yadda and all those fun clichés.

“You in there?” Klaus asked. He even knocked you on the head lightly, murmuring, “I think you broke the poor thing.”

You swatted his hand away, and he reared it back into his chest, cradling it with the look of a hurt puppy. “I’m not broken,” you grumbled, sitting up a bit as you turned your attention back to Five. “I’m just wondering what you guys take me for. I’m not gullible. Yeah, maybe I believed at one-point Santa existed and was my fourth-grade teacher in disguise, but this? That sounds like a bad plot to a shitty TV show.”

Klaus moved to sit next to Five, covering the kid's ears as he did. “Shh, he was never around long enough for us to tell him the truth about Santa.” You just rolled your eyes as Five simultaneously jerked away so fast, throwing a fast punch to Klaus’s gut that had him doubled over groaning in a second flat. His attention turned back to you just as fast.

“This isn’t a joke. When I disappeared all those years ago, I found a way to travel through time but I got stuck there. What I found was nothing— no civilization, no us, no you. Everything was in ruins. It took me many years, but I found my way back to stop the apocalypse from happening.” At that, he exchanged an odd look with both Klaus and Luther. Klaus looked more sympathetic at that, his expression turning more serious in those moments. Luther meanwhile just looked uncomfortable and a little shutoff, his arms crossed so tightly against his chest that you wondered if those jacket sleeves would rip.

“And this apocalypse, when is it supposed to happen exactly?” you asked, deciding to play into whatever they were pulling. You should have known they were all insane. You’d expected it of Klaus, but man, were all of them this disillusioned? “Let me guess. Big meteors are supposed to rain down and destroy us like they did the dinosaurs? Oh! Better yet, all these fossilized dinosaurs are going to come back to life and eat us all!”

“Someone has an active imagination,” Klaus commented, a gleeful look crossing his face, but Five’s own cynical impatience cut both of you down. “No,” he sneered, standing up in what you assumed was his way of seeming more intimidating or serious. It was just hard to take it that way when he didn’t even reach five feet. “But if you stop talking long enough for me to tell you the story, maybe you would simultaneously stop proving your idiocy and get the answers you want.”

Well, then.

“Carry on.”

“So, you’re telling me all of you traveled back to the past— my present—three months ago after your sister almost ended the world?”

“Technically she did, we just popped right on out before we all rather disastrously perished,” Klaus interjected, speaking for the first time since Five finished relaying his tall tale of all that had happened. Luther simply groaned, tightening his crossed arms even more.

Five ignored them both completely. “In layman’s terms, yes, that’s what happened.”

Now, you were no doubt impressed by his ability to tell stories. It was convincing, you’d give him that, but you just weren’t positive it was true. If you sat there and told him you believed him, for one, you’d look like an utter idiot if they turned out they were lying. It would have had to have been an intricate joke on their part, but you’d be damned if it was going to be played on you. No. You needed to make sure that what he said was real. And there was only one plausible way to do it.

“I have questions. If you even pause in answering them, I’ll kick your ass for lying to me. Got it?”

Five nodded. Klaus just looked amused and leaned forward like he was ready to watch an entertaining game.

“If they aren’t going to be convinced, why are we even bothering telling them? This is a waste of time and energy.” Diego’s voice sounded behind you, causing you to jump a bit and exclaim softly, “Jesus Christ.” When the fuck did he get there? You hadn’t even heard him.

Twisting around and resting your arms on the back of the too-plush, white leather couch, you questioned, “are you sure all you can do is throw knives? Maybe you’re a cat shifter or something, you’re so sneaky. Here, let me test to see if you have nine lives— pass me one of your knives,” you smirked snidely, an impish imitation of the scowl he offered you back. Diego clearly wasn’t amused. “Listen to me, you—”

“Both of you, shut up,” Five snapped, his patience clearly wearing thinner by the second. It looked like the Fisher-Price poster boy might explode. A pity, but hey, you could live with it. “Why must you ruin the fun? I wanted to see the show,” Klaus sighed, resting his hand on the side of his face. You threw a pillow at him, and he caught it with a wink in your direction.

Standing up from your seat, noting with jealously how your butt hadn’t fallen asleep like it did on your thrift store found shit couch, you crossed your arms and stared down at the boy. Back to business.

“Whose apartment is this?”

“Allison’s. It’s a second one she barely uses, so it’s likely we’ll go relatively undetected,” Luther replied.

Made sense. “What year did you guys come from?”  

“2019,” Five replied in a bored manner.

Now that had you squinting your eyes a bit. It was 2015 now, so allegedly you could ask anything about the future.

“Did Jon Snow really die in the season five finale of Game of Thrones?”

Five tilted his head slightly in confusion, and Diego just looked annoyed as he threw his hands up and begun pacing. Klaus snorted. But surprisingly, Luther was the one to answer the question, shifting uncomfortably as his eyes darted to the ceiling, “uhm, no. He’s alive.”

His siblings gave him a questioning look, but you didn’t care which one of them actually knew. You were just thinking thank fuck he was alive. Well. Thank fuck if the Hargreeves were telling the truth and were from the future. Now you were really hoping they were.

“Who won the presidential election?”

Diego was the one to reply this time, a deeper bitterness attached to his tone than the one directed at you earlier. “Donald Trump,”  

Never mind. You hoped they were filthy, humorless liars.

Your face must have displayed your severe disappointment and revolt, as Klaus speedily added, “I would offer words of comfort, but even I can’t find the silver lining in it,” giving a small shudder as he said it.

“Well if you’re done with twenty questions, can I finally get to the part to where you come in, or would you rather waste my time for a while longer?”

You felt a twitch at the corner of your eye at Five’s abrasiveness, but you offered a sweet smile over it. “As a matter of fact, I would rather waste your time longer. Thanks.”

Was he getting red in the face? Ooo, delightful.

Diego apparently didn’t see the joy in it. He stomped over to you in his little combat boots and all, getting directly in your face. “You can nullify powers, and we have a sister who’s having trouble controlling hers, and no longer wants to try. Either you help, or get out and forget about all this."

You held your breath for a moment, eyeing him down in what you were sure was some unspoken fight for dominance. At least he was blunt about something both Klaus and Five had been leading up to. You could respect that. However, the situation on the other hand? It was a little confusing. If Vanya did actually have powers— and after having read her book, you were surprised in the least to hear of them— and was the cause for the end of the world, what could be done to really control them? You could stop it from happening maybe, granted you had no idea how much pressure your force field could take in stopping her from using them, but wasn’t that just a momentary fix?

“She nearly put an end to the whole world, or rather, she did, but you all just escaped it. What exactly do you need me for? You expect her to do it again or something? Where even is she?”

Luther suddenly pulled Diego back, taking his place in front of you as a voice for the collective of them. “She’s in one of the rooms with Allison now, but all you need to understand is we’ve been here for three months. For the first month, Vanya couldn’t even look at us. She wouldn’t speak. She was in a catatonic state. In the second month, we tried to understand the extent of her powers to figure out how to prevent another apocalypse from happening, but every time she tried to use them, she couldn’t control them. Now she won’t even try, but they’re still there. She’s a ticking time bomb.”

A small unsettled flare lit in your stomach. “She’s also your sister. Don’t talk about her like she’s just a problem to fix. From the story Five told, you guys locking her up and essentially ignoring her for her whole life was the catalyst for this whole thing. Yeah, I get it. She almost ended the world, and what she did to Allison was fucked up. I’m not condoning that. But if you’re actually going to help her now, then do it for her. Actually, be there for her. Don’t pin me— a stranger— on her to take the problem off your fucking hands.”

You had been in enough foster and group homes to understand the loneliness that often came with them. But it was one thing to be ignored, and another to be acknowledged as simply not good enough. Vanya’s book had been very telling, about all their lives and not just hers. Each Hargreeves sibling had been fucked over by their mad father, and undoubtedly you felt empathy and sympathy for each of their situations and not just hers. Though your life had its own tragedies at the hand of your powers and other’s opinion of them, you had still spent most of the time you could avoiding every being detected by Reginald at all, fearing being included in his little makeshift family. You had known the love of a father before. They clearly hadn’t. Growing up, the Academy thing left a sour taste in your mouth. It wasn’t until you had read Vanya’s book that you finally understood why.

Luther blinked at you in surprise, and you noted a bob in his throat as he swallowed a little nervously. He looked a bit cross like he might actually dare to argue back, but Klaus cut him off before he could, moving to stand beside him.

His wide eyes seemed to reflect a serious outlook, his face a little pale. “We all made mistakes, we know that,” he started off with, and you were once again shocked by the sincerity he seemed to be able to display. Your breathing was a bit ragged after getting so aggravated in your little monologue, and Klaus grabbed your hands and led you back to the couch as if calming an upset child. Ass face. Sitting across from you on to ottoman, he continued, “we all sat there pinning blame on one another when really, it was dear old dad who ruined us all. I want to help. We all want to help.” he squeezed your hands, before finally releasing them. “But we need you as well. Vanya needs to feel like she’s in a controlled environment. If she practices around you and things get out of hand, hopefully, you can turn it off before things go boom again.”

Leaning back, you sank down into the cushions and covered your face with your hand, the light not helping your now growing headache. You took a deep breath in and then out. “Okay. Okay, I’ll help,” you relented, dropping your hand to peer at Klaus’s hopeful little smile. You quickly shifted your gaze back to Five, who had been silent during the entire exchange, simply watching with a contemplative eye. “So, what’s the plan then? I just come over sometimes and stand guard or something while she does her thing?”

Five picked up a coffee mug of the table and took a sip, putting it back down as he muttered, “you ask a lot of questions. But no. We want to be as safe as possible, so the plan would be for you to move in here in case anything was to happen.”

You were quiet for a moment. Maybe a little too quiet, since Five looked a little surprised by your lack of response, which was odd, since you weren’t sure what he was expecting your reaction to be.

“You should stick to brooding. Humour is not your strong suit. Seriously, what’s the plan?”

“I’m not joking. That is the plan.”

Hmm.

Getting up from the couch, you picked up your tote bag, and then the broken clock which had still been sitting on the floor. You slipped it into the bag. Pulling down your sunglasses, you turned towards the group and gave a lazy salute, stating, “Well, it’s been real guys. I’ll be sure to send you a Christmas card.”

Klaus shot up so suddenly you almost got whiplash, and ran to the door to pin himself in front of it like a scraggly leather clad barrier. “Whoa, whoa, hold on a second,” he pleading with a frantic little laugh, “be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” You huffed at the shithead, no trace of such amusement in your voice. “You want me to just drop my whole life to live with a bunch of batshit insane grown up super babies and be at your every beck and call? Hell no. I have two jobs. I have an apartment I need to pay for!”

Klaus muttered back awkwardly, “technically you’re also a batshit insane grown up super baby,” but before you could reach back into your bag for the clock to chuck at his head, Five’s hand gripped your wrist in a tight grasp.

“Will you calm down? If you don’t want to move in here, then Vanya can move into your apartment with you,” Five snapped, releasing his grasp as Klaus started to move back towards you like an inquisitive animal unsure if the being in front of it was a predator or not.

You scrunched your brows together. “Seriously? I told you guys she needs her family. Having her live with me isn’t going to do much good. Look, I am fine coming over once and a while to help out, I really am, but I can’t just drop my whole life. You guys aren’t going to be here forever, and what happens when you guys leave? I have to go back to something.”

Five took a step back, contemplating this as you spoke. Diego took the quiet opportunity to intervene with his own point of view, adding, “they’re right. This whole plan was bound to fail anyway. We can think of something else.”

You were about to agree with him, but before you could, Klaus interjected with a very loud, “wait, I have an idea!”

Luther stated, “well that’s a first,” and you decided your clock’s next target was going to be his big rude head instead.

“Vanya will live with you, but all of us can still visit you and stay with her when you’re at work or what not.” Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea, you thought. But still, she should be around them more so than around you. Part of fixing this whole situation was fixing their family relationship too. Klaus seemed to almost read your mind, albeit, a little misconstrued, as he added, “better yet, I’ll move in too! It’ll be fun, we can all paint each other’s nails and braid each other’s hair—

“Fuck no.”

Klaus frowned, grabbing your shoulders and giving your tense self a little shake. “Oh, come on. I thought we were getting along?”

You deadpanned, “I’m a terrific actor.”

Granted, his plan did have some merit, but you loved having your own space. Your apartment wasn’t even that big anyway. You had your room, a pull-out bed in your crappy makeshift spare room, and then that uncomfortable couch. You wouldn’t subject anyone to that no matter what.

“We’ll pay you if you agree,” Five interrupted your thoughts, and suddenly, you wondered why you had ever thought it had been a bad idea at all.

“Well in that case, hello roomie,” you smiled at Klaus, as his mouth popped open in slight shock. Ignoring him, you dropped your bag on the floor and turned back to the rest of the family.

“Well, let me meet Vanya. We should probably check to see if my force field can even keep her powers at bay in the first place. Or if she’s even comfortable moving in with me.” Lowering your sunglasses back down, you looked them all in the eyes and said, “I, of course, will be paid for my services no matter the outcome.”  

Klaus uttered a small, but very audible, awe of, “they’re magnificent, aren’t they?”

[marypsue]

the one where summer and wendy fight about self-destruction

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Summer lies flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

The hospital room is never actually quiet. There’s always something beeping outside the door, always somebody talking or laughing or calling out in the hall, always, always, even when everything else stops, the low constant thrum of machines in motion.

Still, somehow, the empty room is oppressively silent.

Beep.

Summer shifts onto her right side, her face to the window, head sinking into the divot in the little flat pillow. The streetlight outside glares directly down into her face through the slats in the curtain. 

Beep. 

Summer turns over onto her left side, shifting her hand so that the IV isn’t crushed against the bed. The liquid pulsing into her arm through the huge fucking needle in her hand is cold, and she tugs the thin blanket farther up over her shoulders. It takes three tries. 

Beep.

She lies still, listening to her own breathing and the call bells outside her room and the whir and occasional clunk of the air conditioning.

Beep.

“What the hell, Summer!”

“Oh. Okay. We’re going with confrontational after all,” Tina says, in that deadpan monotone that makes it impossible to tell whether she’s fucking hilarious or just really, really boring. 

Wendy doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe care. She crosses the hospital room in two steps to glower down at Summer, one hand twitching at her hip where she usually carries that stupid axe. Summer’s head is still spinning too hard for her to give a shit and the IV port in her hand hurts like a motherfucker. Wendy can take her self-righteous bullshit right back out to the nurses’ station and let Summer sleep.

“Oh my god,” she mutters, throwing up an arm to shade her eyes. “Can you shift, like, three inches to the right? Then you’ll be completely blocking the hall light.”

"You -" Wendy starts, and then spins to put her back to Summer's bed with a sound that Summer would peg somewhere between a huff and a scream.

"Hi, Summer," Tina says, waving from the doorway. "How're you feeling."

"Like shit," Summer says. "What are you two doing here?"

"I think we're making sure you're all right," Tina says.

"Nope. Change of plans," Wendy snaps, the sarcasm in her voice lashing like a whip. "We're gonna kill her."

"Yeah, yeah, love you too," Summer mutters into her pillow, rolling over.

"I mean it, Summer!" There's a moment of ominous silence before Wendy says, low and deliberate and tight, "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was having fun, Corduroy. Maybe you've, like, heard of it?"

"Well, I'm sorry my definition of 'fun' doesn't include putting myself and a teenager in the ER!"

"Maybe we can just...talk things over," Tina suggests, quietly, to no one in particular, somewhere under the yelling. "Maybe this is the beginning of a productive dialogue. Getting our feelings out in the open."

"Well, I'm sorry you're boring!"

"Oh yeah, what, you're gonna insult me and I'm just gonna get distracted and drop it?" Wendy laughs. It's not a happy laugh. "Seriously, are you trying to hurt yourself? Because that's what it's starting to look like!"

"Oh. Yeah. Because axe-throwing is such a safe, normal sport. Because you've never done anything dangerous that could fuck you up if it went wrong. God, you're such a fucking hypocrite! You're all such a bunch of stupid fucking hypocrites!"

Wendy makes this little aborted noise like she was about to yell something back, but stopped herself. "Okay, I've put up with a lot of your crap, but you crossed a line tonight, Summer. Hollyhock had to have her stomach pumped, she still hasn't woken up -"

"Yeah, well, how is it, like, my fault she can't handle her liquor?"

"She's fourteen years old, you -" Wendy cuts herself off with another frustrated shout, and Summer sits bolt upright in bed even though it makes her head spin.

"You what? You what? Come on, Corduroy, screw your Y-7 rating! Bring it on! Call me a bitch like I know you really want to!"

"Why do you always do this? Why do you always have to push people like this?" Wendy tugs at her short red hair, pacing back and forth beside the hospital bed. "The messed up thing is that I actually like myself when I'm not around you. But you - you just - argh!"

"I what? Bring out the worst in you? Ever consider that, like, maybe you don't need any help with that?"

Wendy is dangerously silent and still for a moment.

Then she kicks the base of Summer's IV stand so hard it topples to the floor and starts to let out a godawful earsplitting beep, and storms out of the room.

"Wow," Tina observes, monotone, over the beeping. "You really pissed her off."

"Yeah, so?" Summer snaps, turning over on her side so she doesn't have to look at Tina's stupid face. "Aren't you gonna, like, go running after her like the useless hanger-on you are?"

"Okay, that was hurtful," Tina says, still in that monotone almost-whisper. Summer throws a pillow at her. Or, at least, in her general direction. She doesn't look to see if her projectile found its mark. "Wendy has a point. You're always trying to push people. Do you think, if you hurt them first and worst, that they can't hurt you? Or are you just trying to show them how bad you really are so they'll leave before you get too attached, instead of after it's too late?"

"You've been reading too much fanfiction, Belcher," Summer groans. "Stop trying to psychoanalyse me, okay? I love people. All I want in the world is to be fun and popular and have lots of friends, obviously. Wendy's just being a megabitch, and I'm so super sick of it."

"If you say so," Tina says. "So then obviously you'd want me to stay."

Summer groans and reaches out for her pillow to bury her face in, remembering too late that she'd thrown it at Tina. The IV port in her hand is throbbing, now, and her arm is really tangled up in the cord hooked on the fallen IV stand.

"Tina," she's finally forced to admit, "I need your help."

"Oh," Tina says. Her eyes dart from right to left, hands coming up to clutch each other in front of her chest, like an old lady with a purse or a velociraptor. Compysag-whatever. Dinosaur. "I...didn't actually think I'd get this far."

"Oh my god. Not with my, like, personality or whatever! Come help me untangle this IV!"

...

The hospital keeps her until ten o'clock, and then kicks her out.

Wendy’s waiting in the waiting room, leaning against the wall. She kicks herself up and falls into step beside Summer as Summer passes by on her way to the door. They don’t look at each other. Wendy doesn’t say anything, and Summer doesn’t either.

The first time either of them says anything is when they pile into Wendy’s terrible old beater and Wendy cranks the radio. It’s the most stupidly passive-aggressive move, and Summer has to roll her eyes. “Oh my god. Whatever it is, just spit it out.”

Wendy lets out a long, too-loud breath. 

“I can’t keep this up,” she says. “You have to get your drinking under control, or I’m out.”

Summer stares out the window. They haven’t started moving yet, so she’s just looking at a bunch of parked cars like a dumbass.

“Fine,” she says. “Whatever. Is that it? Can we go?”

“Summer, I’m serious,” Wendy says. “You need to - talk to somebody, or, or something. I can’t keep catching you when you obviously just want to crash and burn.”

“God, you’re no fun anymore,” Summer sighs, flopping her head against the window. “Who said I wanted you to catch me?”

“Nobody,” Wendy mutters. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you just want to drag me down with you.”

Summer sucks in an angry breath through her nose, holds it.

“Fine,” she says, and slams the car door open. “You know what, I’ll just take the bus.”

She doesn’t look back as she storms between the rows of cars, but she hears Wendy’s engine rattle to life. A few seconds later, the red rustbucket rumbles past her, heading for the parkade exit. 

It doesn’t stop as it passes Summer. It doesn’t even slow down.

[chubsjiminiie]

Bʀᴇᴀᴋ Mʏ Hᴇᴀʀᴛ 🌙  preview pt 25

a/n: THERES A SECOND PART COMING TM AND THEN IMMA MERGE THEM AS ONE BUT I PROMISED TO POST TODAY AND I DIDNT GET TO FINISH BC I HAVE HW AND IVE BEEN BUSY W WORK BUT IM GOING TO FINISH TONIGHT ILLYYY

~тaeнyυng х reader

~ pt 25/??

~ birthday preview

~ prev ||  next

posts everyday at 9pm est

requests are open!

You giggle looking down at your phone seeing all your friends being a little dumb. Your birthday had finally arrived, usually you weren’t one for birthdays because they were just another regular day. At least that’s what they ended up feeling like since you had either school or work that took up most of your time.

Tae really put his all in celebrating your birthday this year. Buying gifts left and right; anything he thought that you’d enjoy he got. So far thing between the two of you really had gone well; it seemed things were getting somewhat serious. You spent almost every single day together, finding any free time to see each other and have little dates. Every time he was near your heart overflowed with love, you were falling in deep. It seemed, at least to you, his eyes were brighter, his smile sweeter, his touch a little warmer, and his heart a little softer.

With everyday that passed your feelings got stronger, and you were almost 100% sure you had fallen deeply, madly in love with Kim Taehyung, your best friend. It was different now though; before you tried your best to ignore what you felt because he’d never feel the same but that has changed. Now you knew his flirting and clinginess wasn’t all in your head, it was real. Jungkook, being his roommate, was constantly teasing you about stealing his boyfriend and hogging him night and day. There were times when he’d complain even when he wasn’t with you but you assumed it was him just messing with you. The others were very supportive about everything and very invested in the relationship.

For tonight though, you guys weren’t really bothering with thinking about the budding relationship. It was time to enjoy the party and get drunk out of your minds. All the boys had agreed on things to help you get prepare and were going to be at your place an hour early. They said you were going to need some help protecting your place for the destruction that was to come. Already you could see the mess that would be waiting for you tomorrow morning. Beer cans and bottles scattered everywhere. red solo cups covering every single flat surface, strange puddles of liquids on your wooden floor. Maybe you shouldn’t be celebrating your birthday with a hundred drunk college students… oh well.

The night before Taehyung had come over to give you his final present and stay the night with you. It was huge teddy bear and a bunch of balloons with a bouquet of roses. In that moment you had no idea how to react so you jumped on his and wrapped your legs around his waist. He got caught off guard so you both fell to the couch behind him and you both laugh. You felt your smile grow just thinking back on that memory and you looked up to your ceiling. After doing what you need you had come to lay down on your bed but you couldn’t calm your mind from constantly thinking of Tae. He was in your guest room changing into his outfit, he had brought two full bags of clothes to make sure he was prepared for any outfit color you chose. It was these small things he did that always made your heart swoon and jump out of your chest. They gave you hope, hope that everything would be alright if the two of you made the decision to stay together.

Some could call you ignorant for trusting a fuckboy, even if he’s your best friend. That made it worst thought because you had seen all the moves he makes to get girls or to break hearts, you knew his little games. There were girls in your classes that “warned” you about him, they said when they hooked up he was quick to leave and ignore their entire existence. They said he may be a little nicer because you were friends but at the end of the day he was Taehyung. Not going to lie this ran through your head a lot, you always wondered if he was playing games but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He would never you thought, he cares way too much about you not just romantically but as a friend. Was he really the type to not give a fuck and hurt his own best friend knowing she’s head over heels for him?

You don’t know though, and that in itself drove you crazy. He had so much power in his hands, it was all in his next move to see what came out of everything.

You eyelids slowly began to close trying to keep away the negative thoughts that had already starting coming through. Tonight is for having fun, enjoying your birthday, celebrating you. Suddenly the empty side of you bed sunk down and a body laid next to yours. He slowly turned and wrapped his arm around your waist resting his on your chest.

“Princess, are you taking a nap before your ruin your liver tonight?” he whispered not wanting to wake you up in case you were really asleep.

“Mhm. Oppa really has good ideas about charging up before a party,” you giggle.

He chuckles at your comment and somehow cuddles closer onto you; you bring your free arms and wrap them around him pulling him even closer. You both had always had cuddling sessions and slept in the same bed together but it’s been completely different nowadays. They felt, weird, a good weird. The type of cuddles that made you want to giggle and blush and just be there forever if it was possible. As soon as you both started to get into your nap a loud bang can from the front door being swung open. Six voices filled the empty rooms at your place, their feet shuffling around trying to find where the star of the night was. Once they reached your room they saw the two of you laying holding each other and began their teasing. Jimin and Jungkook hyped it up the most jumping on the bed and falling on top of the both of you claiming they wanted cuddles too. Jin and Namjoon were hand in hand laughing from the door. Surprisingly Hobi and Yoongi were also hand in hand but their expressions were unreadable. Almost as if something was bothering them but as their eyes met yours their smiles appeared.  

“ALRIGHT MY CHILDREN LETS HEAD DOWN AND GET OUR DRINK ON!” Namjoon yelled overly excited.

“Hell yeah!” Jungkook jumped off the bed and made his way down with the rest of the guys.

Taehyung and you took a bit longer trying to unwrap yourselves and fix up the messiness that was created by the cuddles. As you made your way down, his hand found yours and intertwined your fingers. He loved being touchy, he lived for holding hands, hugging, and any type of affection. Time passed as you guys pregamed in the middle of kitchen. Each one of you complained about all the assignments that were being given in almost every major. Most of you being art majors, you enjoyed and hated big projects because you had creative control but the deadlines really killed.

Slowly more college students began arriving and started drinking. In the beginning most of them tried their best to greet you but as the night went on they completely forgot why they came in the first place. The music was blasting and shaking all the beautiful paintings and pictures on your wall but you didn’t mind. it felt good to let loose and celebrate you. The guys had stuck by your side most of the night wanting to drink as much as possible with you.

“No Jungkook stop you can’t say those things to a girl!!!” Jin scolded the youngest.

“Jin hyung. I only wanted to know if she keeps money in her bra like y/n!”

“You can’t ask so freely unless you know her!” he shook his head, “She’s going to think your a creep.”

“That’s okay,” Jungkook shrugged and his bunny teeth came out as his lips spread into a big smile.

You didn’t know how many shots you had taken but it was… a lot. Plus the guys were refilling your red solo cup right after you finished, it felt like you were floating at this point. Taehyung had drank just as much as you taking every shot you took filling his cup just as much as yours got filled. He was gone. You were a bit surprise to find out he was even more touchy as a drunk. He turned to face you and brought you into a hug, his arms wrapped around your waist and his head rested on your shoulder. You were leaning against a wall in your house as the rest of the group circled around you. His soft lips began to peck your shoulder sweetly, he moved up a bit and started kissing your jaw. Your knees felt weak as he got closer to your ear.

His raspy voice whispered, “You’re so beautiful y/n.”

“Thank you,” you spoke back softly not really knowing what to do.

His lips continued to leave trails of kisses along your neck and shoulders until he finally reached your lips. He only gave you a small peck and let go of you.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day long but I haven’t had the balls to,” he chuckles as he bends down speaking into your ear, “I almost forgot to tell you. I have one last present to give you. But it’s for when were both alone.”

You’re eyebrows knitted together and your head tilted to the side, “Birthday sex?” you asked teasing him jokingly.

“I mean if you’re down…” you playfully smack his arm, “No baby, its something more special. I can give you birthday sex after that if were sober enough,” he winked.

You both laughed at each other and he pulled you into his arms. This time he was leaning against the wall and your back was pressed to his chest. His head rested on the top of your head and his arms were on your shoulders. You held his hand, and watched your friends get wasted and start talking complete nonsense. Feeling in the mood to move around and take out all the energy the alcohol had given you, you drag Tae out to dance with you. Your dancing wasn’t much of anything, a couple of the guys gave you thumbs up or would make kissing faces at you. You were too out of it to feel Tae’s phone vibrate in his pocket but he noticed.

He pulled his phone out and looked down at who had texted him. He felt his  body cringe just looking at the name written on the screen while he was having a moment with you. The text read, “Where are you?”, there were 3 dots indicating she was typing. He didn’t want to but he couldn’t help it. He excused himself and went into the bathroom to text back the girl who had just texted him.

[lexiseigneur]

Chapter two: Quinlan’s hunt

Chapter on ao3

Lexi did not sleep a single moment. Fear was not conducive to proper rest. Lightheaded and weak, she got out of bed as her alarm clock displayed an ungodly early time. Outside would still be dark at this hour. Where was Quinlan? The door of the free room stood ajar and she steered clear from it. This man was terrifying. Riddled with bullets he still walked about. Very clearly, he also had been whipped. The scars crisscrossed his marbled skin but she knew better than to start interrogating him about them. Other matters had distracted her immediately after their discovery anyway. Lexi dry-heaved at the memory of his drinking blood. Her blood. Enjoyment had completely transformed his face. Ugh.

Light flashed several times before settling when she flipped the switch in the infirmary. All she wanted was alleviating her malaise but the chaos of this usually pristine space was bothering her. Order was efficiency, efficiency was survival. Staggering but determined, she threw away all used instruments as well as cut clothing. With pure bleach, she disinfected all surfaces. The bullets she placed in a glass bottle filled with water. The liquid turned milky from the blood. Here lied the proof that despite her fear, despite her disgust, this man was hope. For a task that desperate, on which the survival of her species depended, she needed someone who could survive such punishment. Lexi did not plan on dying in this hole, alone and useless. If there was ever a cause worth joining, it was this one. The woman sighed and took a saline pouch out of the fridge. Veins rolled annoyingly under the push of the needle. Hands were an inconvenient placement for an IV but she had little choice. Then she perused for injectable vitamins and added their contents to the bag with a syringe. Iron sounded good and so did B12. The clear liquid turned pink. Waiting for the mixture to enter her system, she turned the bullet bottle between her fingers. Even his blood was white. Such a strange creature. So very civilized. Heavy footsteps echoed in the control room. Lexi took all the bottles, vitamins and bullets, and shoved them back in the fridge. She hooked the bag on the index finger of her unpierced hand and went to meet him.

Quinlan was fully dressed, coat, sword and her shirt.

-        “I require a vehicle. Is this one in working order?”

His gloved finger pointed at the screen showing the feed from the topside entrance. By the doors leading to the elevator, an old truck was parked. Lexi tensed. Was this ungrateful monster really going to take her blood, her clothes and then her truck? Just like that, he was going to use her and leave? Oh hell, no.

-        “Where are you going?” She asked and glanced at the drawer containing the car keys.

-        “I must retrieve weapons from a cache. Yesterday, I was hoping to gain enough distance from the horde to reach it.”

-        “I’m going with you.”

The dhampir stared. His eyes landed on the IV drip fastened to her hand.

-        “You most certainly are not.”

Lexi’s nostrils flared in anger. The nausea was intense but she hid her discomfort. He would not drive away with her only vehicle, she would make sure of that.

-        “That’s my truck and we are a package deal.”

Quinlan raised a prominent and hairless brow. Defiantly, she jutted her chin forward. I’m joining the fight, even if it means fighting you first.

-        “Do not slow me down.” He said and turned away.

Lexi rushed to get dressed, took the keys from the desk and met him at the elevator. When they reached the surface, the sun had coated the countryside with its orange glow. She sat on the passenger side and tossed the keys to the dhampir. The IV bag she kept in her free hand against her shoulder. They departed and almost instantly, he sped up too fast for her comfort.

-        “Slow down! Jeez!”

The truck still flew down the dirt road. Each pothole made her jump several centimeters in the air.

-        “No. If you so desire, I can stop long enough for you to exit.”

Lexi felt the urge to punch him. With greeted teeth, she swallowed a reply. His expression barely changed but she could not help but think that he looked extremely smug. Fortunately, the ride lasted barely twenty minutes. They stopped at the edge of a field without any obvious characteristics. A few trees in the distance and patches of dying grass on the naked earth. Not even a fence or a traffic sign. Without a word, the dhampir got out, taking the keys with him. Lexi did not follow but stared as he made his way on the dry soil and crouched. When he stood back up, his hand was closed on a metal handle. A large metal trunk had been buried vertically and with a single hand, he tore it from the earth. The metal chest appeared just as weightless as he walked back. The truck shifted under the weight of this cargo. Exactly how strong was Quinlan? This was insane. Lexi braced herself for the ride back. At least, the nausea was subsiding as her circulatory system absorbed the saline solution. The bag was empty when they sped down a steady asphalt road. She removed the needle from her sore hand. A single drop of blood followed and rolled between her fingers. Shit. Lexi immediately covered it with her sleeve and glanced at Quinlan. The clear blue eyes were fixated on her. His expression was the same as the previous day: hungry. The woman cowered and reached for her gun. He detached his gaze and focused on the road ahead. The woman was unable to do the same. At that moment, he was the nearest danger.

-        “I would feel more relaxed if you could stop staring.” He said with a rattle.

Lexi only did so because his speaking made him appear more human than Strigoi. They drove in silence and in the distance, deer sprinted away. At that moment the woman wished she could flee that fast and jump that high. Tires screeched and the seatbelt tensed on her body. The flat nylon strap stopped her from flying through the windshield as the truck connected with one of the large animals. Lexi could not breathe. Her chest was crushed by the violence of the impact. Desperate, she scrambled for the clasp and untied herself. The driver’s door was wide open and Quinlan was nowhere to be seen. Had he been propelled out? Clutching her contused clavicle, she stumbled out of the truck. A dead deer lay ahead on the road. Just a few paces to the right, the dhampir leaned above a still moving animal. As soon as it was immobile, Quinlan sprinted to the dead one. Sprinted was the wrong word. Lexi had just been able to see a blur. How fast was he? Although Lexi knew he likely had a stinger, she still grimaced at seeing it projected at the animal. Quinlan snarled in frustration. He took the back legs of the dead deer and lifted it as high as his arms could reach. The serpentine appendage contracted to absorb the blood. She understood immediately that Strigoi and apparently Quinlan, relied on the own heartbeats of their victims to drink.  Gravity was only a subpar choice as it was slow. After a full minute, the dhampir’s stinger retracted and he tossed the animal off the road. The initial shock had subsided and left Lexi with growing furor. Her body hurt because of him.

-        “You did it on purpose you goddamn MANIAC!” She yelled at him.

The metal bumper was dented as well as the edge of the hood.

-        “It was necessary.”

Lexi snorted. What a load of crap.

-        “Not it fucking wasn’t! I just saw you move! You could have outrun them!”

The dhampir was suddenly an arm’s length from her. A savage growl emerged from his chest.

-        “ARE YOU THREATENING ME?” She roared at him.

She had given him her help, her blood, her favorite pajamas… Then he had damaged her property and had the nerve to give her attitude when confronted. I’m going to shoot him. Her hand flew to her side and found nothing. The holster was empty. The impact had dislodged the gun. No shooting him for now. It was probably for the best. Instead, she poked the center of his chest with an accusatory finger.

-        “I’m driving now!”

The dhampir sneered and stared at her collarbone.

-        “Once you calm down, you will be in no condition to drive.”

The woman could feel it. It was difficult to breathe deeply without agony shooting through her ribcage. Even moving her arms was becoming a struggle as the inflammation increased. Her lips contracted into a fine line. What she would give to wipe that smile off his face.

-        “Fine!"

She sat back in the passenger seat where her gun had fallen. It was still tempting to shoot him but she put it back in its leather holder. Then she slammed the door shut and fastened her seatbelt. They resumed their drive in heavy silence. Lexi refused to even look at him. With each passing minute, her adrenaline levels decreased. The pain was almost too much to bear. Her breathing turned quick and shallow and she winced at each imperfection of the asphalt road. When they reached the dirt, she focused entirely on being quiet. Then they hit the first pothole and she could not hold back a cry. The last stretch would be torture. The car slowed down significantly. Lexi sighed in relief but would have rather cut her own finger off than admit that it helped. When they arrived, Quinlan exited and walked to her side. He opened the door and with another whimper, she got out. Every step of the way, she remained quiet but he helped her unprompted. Lexi did not even bother being embarrassed when she typed in the code calling the elevator. Of course, she had not given it to him the previous day. She had had no guarantee that he would come back if he left. In addition, she wanted to keep the option of refusing him re-entry.

Another cry of pain escaped her when the elevator cage stopped abruptly. Drops of sweat were falling into her eyes, mixing with tears she could no longer hold back. Avoiding Quinlan’s gaze, she walked carefully to the infirmary. Her arms moving as little as possible, she reached for a bottle of Vicodin pills. She swallowed one and attempted to remove her jacket. That range of movement was impossible without overwhelming agony. Did she have broken ribs? Frustrated, she grabbed the sheers she had used the previous night and cut her shirt open. A swollen welt from her shoulder to waist was forming rapidly. She faced the mirror and with extreme care, palpated her sides one by one. The pain of that self-examination made her want to vomit. Quinlan was using the elevator again. The pneumatic sound echoed in the control room. There was the loud clang of metal dropping on concrete and his heavy footsteps approached.

-        “How are you?”

Quinlan had entered the room and she grabbed her jacket shut. Lexi did not want him to see her bruises. However, the painkiller was not yet working and she needed assistance.

-        “Come help me.”

She asked and expected to be obeyed. Quinlan followed her to her bedroom where she whispered more orders.

-        “Jacket, slowly.”

She faced away from him, and he pulled gently on the sleeves. The jacket fell around her ankles. She attempted to kick off her boots without success. He quickly untied and removed them without her asking. She’d suffer her cargo pants for the time being but her bra would cause her pain as it was tight around her ribcage. The woman trembled from embarrassment at being stripped like an infant.

-        “Shirt.”

He grabbed the fabric around her shoulder and pulled down. It fell on the jacket.

-        “The…the hooks.”

With her right hand, she pointed at the clasps of her bra. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her chest. He undid it and unhooked the straps from her shoulders. Her arms pinned to her sides prevented the undergarment from falling. She attempted to control her voice.

-        “Please leave.”

There was a gush of wind and the door clicked shut. Knowing Quinlan had been a painful experience so far. She moaned as quietly as possible when lying down on her back. It did not take long for the medication to dull her torment. Humiliation kept her awake longer than the physical ache.

 Quinlan inventoried the content of the metal trunk while she slept. It had taken time but her breathing had finally turned even and the stirring had stopped. The dhampir focused on her sounds every few minutes because of his guilt. Of course, she had no idea how close he had been to drinking her in that car and how weak he still was. Attempting to outrun deer on the little blood she had gifted him would have been a mistake. The gamey taste coated his tongue. How repugnant. Even with the quantity ingested, he was still far from his preferred state. Animal blood was a crutch. Setrakian’s sword lay on the desk next to the Occido Lumen. Quinlan had carefully separated objects made from silver before extracting the rest. There were Dr. Goodweather’s hard drives, given to him by the dying man himself. A duffel bag of clothing he had already put on his bed.  Most of the trunk’s contents were ammunition and firearms. Too few for his liking. The dhampir sat and with a sewing kit, mended his coat. The harness holding his sword would remain usable but would need repair. With care, he conditioned the leather until satisfied with its flexibility and shine. Quinlan then headed to the bedroom and switched to clean waxed denim pants. The borrowed shirt was replaced by a tight cotton sweater and a vest partially covering the swirls of this throat.

His ear twitched. Lexi was stirring again and with that sound, the rumble of an empty stomach. Quinlan needed the small woman cooperative and that meant helping her as well. Memories of her naked back in front of him made him cringe and he headed to the kitchen. Cooking had never been a concern of his even when he had briefly enjoyed a normal domestic life. Nevertheless, he was not a bumbling idiot and had learned a few things passively. A clear jar contained dry oats and as the only familiar ingredient visible, it became his choice. Two handfuls would suffice considering how small she was. After dropping them into a metal pot and adding water, he placed them on the electric stove and waited.

Lexi had gotten out of bed and was using her bathroom. Noises of fabric rubbing on fabric followed by her moans and cries made him tense. Had he known the full extent of her injuries, he might have abstained from mocking her. How very petty he must have appeared to her. The swollen shoulder, so delicate as to appear bird-like, had been difficult to face. Removing the garments without adding to her discomfort had felt so very awkward. The woman had stopped crying and made her way to the control room and then, to the kitchen.

Quinlan glanced, froze and averted his gaze. A thin button-up shirt covered her frame. It had likely been the only top she could put on without forcing her muscles into agonizing positions. The fabric was too sheer for his liking and she had not managed to close it at the top. Resolutely, he avoided looking at what this revealed of her physique. Lexi sat and stared. The dhampir poured the slimy oatmeal into a bowl, stabbed it with a spoon and placed it in front of her. Thanks were not expected so he did not take offense as she remained coy. This was his doing and the least he could do was prevent her from starving. As she had done just a day prior. Lexi ate a spoonful and her eyes widened in surprise. Complete and utter disgust spread over her face. Oh. Had be made a mistake?

-        “There is a jar of lemon jam in the fridge. Can you please…?”

He obeyed and she added the sweet gel to the porridge. Quinlan crossed his arms and waited patiently for her to consume her meal. Half-way through the bowl, she put the spoon down.

-        “I thought about what you told me last night. Your first plan was the best and you need to try it again.”

The chair rattled when he pulled it to him and sat.

-        “Please elaborate.” He asked as politely as he could.

-        “You and your friends had it right the first time.”

His head cocked at the word. Had they been his friends? He doubted it.

-        “The coffin idea worked.”

Quinlan sighed.

-        “If it had, we would not be having this conversation.”

Lexi licked her lips and closed her eyes tightly. Was it the pain again?

-        “It worked, Quinlan. The Master was lucky. Luck isn’t a talent or something he can control. Without that brat throwing a fit and exploding New York, he would be rotting at the bottom of the sea.”

Lexi ate another spoonful and Quinlan mulled over her words. The dhampir had not considered the question before for several reasons. The first being that he no longer possessed the coffin and that silver had become an exceedingly rare commodity. The quantities required to build another were out of his reach. The second reason was that he did not have the knowledge or expertise required to build another jamming device. Without that technology, forcing the Master into submission alone would be difficult. And if he managed, he would need to escape the thinking minions, while dragging a supremely heavy object.

-        “The coffin is lost. After I fled from New York, the Master would have destroyed it.”

-        “Build another one.”

-        “Silver has become too rare…”

-        “Use the book. It’s silver, isn’t it?”

The Occido Lumen indeed possessed a thick cover forged from the metal but it was very obviously insufficient.

-        “It is…”

-        “Too small, I know.”

Quinlan frowned in confusion.

-        “You don’t need to lock up his shell, his body. Just the worm.”

His breath was stuck in his throat. He stood and paced the length of the room. The locket in his pocket was smooth against his fingers. Quinlan took it out to stroke it as he thought. Once before he had destroyed the Master’s body sufficiently for the worm to be uncovered. Surely, he could do it again? But that would require some assistance. Last time, he had not been alone.

-        “The devices, the brains, I could not save them.”

The blast of the atomic device had destroyed them completely. Lexi nodded and swallowed another spoonful.

-        “Those can also be built again.”

Quinlan’s heartbeat picked up. Had this woman answers for everything? After a year of scrambling after a plan doomed to fail from the start, he was hoping again.

-        “Those Feeler brains were special… more powerful in the way they shared the bond.”

Lexi waved a dismissive hand and Quinlan caught himself smiling.

-        “If I need a big battery and I only have small batteries, I just rig them up together and I get a big battery.”

The dhampir shook his head. What could she possibly mean by that?

-        “The Feeler brains are big batteries and normal Strigoi brains are small…” She started.

-        “…so you rig them up together and get a big one.” He finished.

Lexi grinned and nodded.

-        “Would you be able to decipher Dr. Goodweather’s notes? To build those new devices?”

She shifted position to face him fully. With a sudden grimace of pain, Lexi cradled her shoulder and side. Quinlan was instantly back in the chair, cursing his restlessness.

-        “It’s my job to understand how living things work.”

-        “Are you a doctor?”

Their eyes met and she squinted.

-        “I have a doctorate, yes.”

The formulation was strange but he did not care.

-        “You must understand though, those notes are unlikely to be perfect and will still need adaptation.” She said. “Don’t expect me to start building things tomorrow or even next week.”

Lexi shut her eyes. Deep and cutting sadness fell on her face.

-        “The worse has already come to pass. We have time…and with time we can accumulate resources.”

-        “Agreed.” Said the dhampir.

Eagerness was pushing him to question further. Part of him wanted to start this instant and another was convinced that a flaw not yet discovered would render the plan impossible. No... She was right. The Master had been lucky. He would no longer be. Quinlan smiled viciously.

-        “Were you always a…soldier? Warrior? I don’t know…”

The suddenness of the personal question caught him off guard. A soldier? Perhaps not. A predator…always. He elected not to tell her that.

-        “Most of my life.”

Her hazel eyes scrutinized his face.

-        “How old are you?”

That human curiosity.

-        “I was born nearly two thousand years ago.”

She scrunched up her face, shook her head and waited for him to continue speaking. He remained quiet and she appeared almost worried.

-        “Are you pulling my leg?”

-        “Do I seem like the type of person to do such a thing?”

-        “No… Really not.” She blurted out. “Why do you even have a British accent?”

Quinlan shrugged as he did not have the inclination to answer all of her queries. Her eyebrows knitted together.

-        “Why are you alone? Why aren’t the other dhampir helping you?”

This was a fair question but based on an erroneous premise.

-        “There were four before me but they are long dead.”

-        “Well, that…”

She glanced at him then away. Was she pitying him and his lonely existence?

-        “…must suck only having slow and weak humans as a backup.”

Quinlan did not bring up the Strigoi he had trained for the Ancients. Those were also dead. And so were the humans who had brought him so very close to victory. All dead. It struck him that the same fate awaited this one, whether they succeeded or not.

-        “It does at times.”

Why was this useful woman in such a particularly weak body? It had only been a day and she was already injured.

-        “How many Strigoi have you killed?” He asked.

It was his turn to interrogate. Lexi snorted.

-        “Well, you were there. I did not count how many.”

-        “On the hill…this was the first time you killed a Strigoi?”

The woman blushed and her ears, cheeks, and chest turned a lovely pink.

-        “Yes. I usually avoided them. Until someone dragged an army of them on my doorstep.”

Quinlan ignored the quip and focused on the meaning. Literally no experience. Nothing.

-        “You need to learn how to fight them. Firearms eventually run out of bullets and are pointless in very close combat.”

Lexi’s blush intensified. Quinlan tried not to look at the blood rushing under the delicate skin above her heart. The hint of a burn appeared in the back of his throat.

-        “What…with you? You want to teach me?”

Quinlan stood and filled the bowl with another helping of porridge. To fight, she needed to heal and healing required sustenance.

-        “You can study Dr. Goodweather’s research until you are healthy. Then you will learn how to defend yourself.”

Lexi ate in silence while the dhampir imagined each step of the plan.

[teresa60521-blog]

Side Effects

chapter 19: 2 weeks

If Uraraka felt trapped in the Bakugou home before giving birth, she definitely felt trapped now. But she was glad that she wasn’t thrust into the chaos of the outside world and that she was wrapped up with this tiny bundle of joy who just so happened to cry and whine half of the day.

Uraraka would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying it.

She liked having somebody being dependent on her and  being able to take care of somebody. She had been told in the past that she has a motherly quality about her but she didn’t see it until she actually became a mother. It still didn’t feel real. Uraraka felt like she would be giving the baby back to somebody.

It was also nice that Masaru and Mitsuki believed in her parenting abilities. They didn’t hover, only lent her a hand when she asked for the help. They were always ready and willing to assist, Mitsuki more so since she was home most of the time unless she was running errands or having lunch with old friends. Masaru still worked, coming home late but always making time to say hello to his grandchild.

When Uraraka had asked them if they wanted her to leave, Mitsuki had looked at her like she was insane.

“Where are you gonna go?” Mitsuki had asked and truthfully, Uraraka hadn’t even thought that far. She had just wanted to get out of their hair. “You’re welcome here for as long as you like. Better you than my son.”

Uraraka had laughed but it was greatly appreciated. She finally belonged somewhere.

She just wished that Bakugou had stayed with them too the past few weeks.

She understood completely; school was still the most important thing to Bakugou. He still was driven to become a hero and having a baby didn’t affect him as much as it did Uraraka. She was still recovering, the pain mostly gone but her emotions still off kilter. Uraraka wanted to start shaving off some of the excess baby weight but she had to wait until she was all healed. Bakugou’s life didn’t have to slam on the breaks; he was just able to keep on going like nothing had happened.

Uraraka was thankful that he kept in constant contact, asking about Kazumi and how both she and the baby were doing. He was making up for the time he had lost during the pregnancy and that was all Uraraka really wanted. It would just be better if he was actually there with her.

He had come home the first weekend and with this next weekend rapidly approaching, Uraraka couldn’t wait to see him again. She just wanted a little help and a little bit of family bonding time. Because that’s what they were. A family.

Friday before Bakugou was due home Uraraka was sitting on the couch, holding Kazumi close to her chest. Kazumi was sleeping, had fallen asleep in her arms after drinking from her bottle, and Uraraka couldn’t find it in herself to put her baby girl down. Just two short weeks after she had given birth she was head over heels in love with her daughter. She understood what some new mothers said when it was the best feeling and experience in the world.

Uraraka felt her phone buzz against her leg and she made sure Kazumi was secure in one arm before opening the text.

>> these asshole wont leave me the fuck alone

Uraraka smiled as she read the text. She had gotten similar texts from Bakugou over the course of the week, him complaining about how their classmates wanted to come see the baby and how they hovered asking for pictures. She didn’t mind if they came over to meet Kazumi, she just didn’t want to overwhelm the infant with too many people and if the whole class came over it would be a lot . But she didn’t mind a few people coming over.

Bakugou was pretty adamant about them not coming over though. In fact, he said they were never ever allowed in his house again.

<< why?

>> they wanna fuckin come over even tho ive told them 100000000000 times hell fuckin no

<< maybe it’s easier to just say yes?

<< i wouldnt mind it if they came over

There was silence from Bakugou now and she knew he was pissed that she had disagreed with him. She just shook her head and let him fume in silence, putting the phone down beside her. In that moment Masaru sat down on the other side of the couch with the newspaper. He smiled gently at her and then glanced down at Kazumi through his glasses.

“How is she?” Masaru asked as he settled against the back of the couch. His voice was gentle, quiet so he didn’t wake the sleeping infant up.

Uraraka shifted Kazumi in her arms and the baby twitched, making a purring noise in the back of her throat and shaking her head. Uraraka rocked her a little bit until she settled down and was lying still in her arms again.

“Sleepy.” Uraraka smiled softly and rubbed her thumb across the back of Kazumi’s hand. She could already see growth in her baby and she thought it was amazing.

“Mm.” Masaru unfolded the newspaper. “And how are you doing?”

“I’m also sleepy. But happy. Much happier than I was when I was pregnant.”

“I told you Katsuki would come around.” Masaru sounded so proud of himself and Uraraka couldn’t even be mad. He was right and there was no denying that. Uraraka wished she had a little more faith when he had initially said this to her but everything that happening at the time led her to believe otherwise. Bakugou was being really rude and just downright awful. Uraraka didn’t think she was going to have a happy ending.

The future was still uncertain but for now, she was living the happy ending fantasy.

“I’m glad he did.” Uraraka whispered. She checked her phone again but there was still no message from Bakugou. She let it go, knowing this was nothing to get upset about. He could not respond to her and she would be fine with it. She spent a little more time with Masaru, talking about Bakugou and Kazumi and a little bit of Masaru’s job. He was still a fashion designer and he did in fact create some hero costumes. They weren’t worn by super popular heroes by any means but it still made him feel good to know that there were young heroes out there wearing the clothes he designed.

Uraraka told him maybe she would get her clothing reworked by him, but Masaru reminded her that technically she and Bakugou had matching designs as they were made by the same designer. Their costumes had predicted their love perhaps.

She carried Kazumi carefully upstairs and laid her in the bassinet beside her bed. She didn’t know when she was supposed to move Kazumi to her crib but she figured she had a couple of months. She wasn’t ready for her baby to grow that big yet. She liked rolling over in the morning and seeing Kazumi sleeping peacefully surrounded by the baby blanket her friends had made.

Uraraka fell asleep pretty quickly that night, having been up early that morning with her little girl. Kazumi woke her up once or twice in the middle of the night and Uraraka was still getting used to that. Hopefully Bakugou could come relieve her in the middle of the night tomorrow. However, the two still weren’t allowed to sleep in the same room and there were no chances that Bakugou would hear Kazumi in the first place. Bakugou was surprisingly a heavy sleeper, but so was Uraraka. She wondered when that would catch up to her. When there was a baby screaming two feet away from her though, it was hard to miss.

Kazumi woke her up at around eight and she was fed and changed, put into a cute baby blue onesie with clouds on it. Uraraka had specifically told Masaru and Mitsuki that she didn’t care about color of clothing for her daughter and didn’t want her daughter to be subjected to the gender dichotomy at two weeks old. Colors didn’t have gender and she was going to dress her daughter up however she wanted.

Kazumi just so happened to look very cute in blue.

Uraraka was just lifting Kazumi from her playpen when the front door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud thud. She blinked wide eyes in that direction and a fuming Bakugou emerged, one fist clenched tight at his side and the other palm flat on the door. Uraraka could see his fist trembling in fury from her position in the middle of the living room.

“Katsuki?” Uraraka’s eyebrows pinched together.

“Uraraka-san!” That did not come from Bakugou, as Bakugou would never be that formal. Instead, it came from three distinct voices, each belonging to Kirishima, Midoriya and Iida respectively.

Well, that explains why Bakugou was so annoyed.

Kirishima, followed by Kaminari, bounded in around Bakugou who seemingly had been trying to block their entrance. He was no match for Kirishima’s mass of muscle though and the two came forward, Iida, Midoriya and Tsuyu following right behind that. Uraraka was still a bit shocked and looked at the familiar faces.

“Oh, hi guys.” It took her a moment to compose herself but when she did she smiled. Kazumi was secure in her arms, awake and blinking big eyes up at her mother. Uraraka let her baby put her tiny hand around one of her fingers but kept her attention on her friends. She had undone the paws on the onesie she was wearing, her other hand still covered so she didn’t scratch herself in her sleep or when she was just wiggling around.

Uraraka was definitely surprised though to see so many of the faces she missed. She hadn’t had much interaction outside of Bakugou and his family, their family. Seeing her friends from school made her light up and feel warm inside. She could have only predicted how the train ride over to their house had been, especially with Kirishima and Kaminari coming along.

“We have come to see how you’ve been doing.” Iida said, glancing from her to Kazumi and then back to Uraraka’s face. She thought it was amusing, knowing he wanted to hold the baby immediately.

“They fucking stalked me here.” Bakugou gruffed and sat down on the couch, holding his arms out for Kazumi. Uraraka graciously placed her in his arms and Bakugou held the baby possessively against his chest, glaring at the faces of their classmates.

“You said we could come!” Kaminari shouted and Bakugou bared his teeth, holding Kazumi closer when she started squirming a bit.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou spit.

Uraraka felt an incredible amount of pride seeing Bakugou being so protective over their daughter. It was almost surreal, him being so gentle when he was always so brash. He held Kazumi like she was delicate china and really, she was. “Be sure not to squish her.” Uraraka reminded and Bakugou shifted his grip on her, no complaints.

It was amazing how parenthood could change somebody, even if that parent wasn’t around as often as the other.

Kirishima poked his head real close to Kazumi’s. “She’s so small.”

“She’s a baby you fuckwit! Don’t get too close, if you breathe on her she’ll die.”

“She will not die.” Iida declared and began rummaging in his bag. “It is very important that we clean our hands before we hold the baby so it doesn't get any illnesses we may be carrying.”

“Who the hell said I was going to let you hold her, Four Eyes?!” Bakugou barked but it seemed like all of them ignored him as they squirted hand sanitizer into their hands. Uraraka didn’t have any gripes about letting the five of them hold Kazumi but her boyfriend looked like he was about to snap at anybody who came in a five foot radius of him.

Uraraka placed a hand on his shoulder and Bakugou jolted at the soft touch. “They can hold her.”

“They’re all fucking idiots, they’ll drop her!” Bakugou argued.

Tsuyu ribbited and placed a finger to her lips. “I thought fatherhood might mellow you out, Bakugou-kun, but looks like I was wrong.”

“A-Asui-san….” Midoriya said nervously.

Bakugou looked like he wanted to lunge but the baby in his arms kept him seated. He never had any problems picking a fight with any gender.

“Katsuki, they came all this way to see her.” Uraraka didn’t want to have to wrestle Kazumi out of his arms but would if he didn’t give their friends a chance to hold her. They held each other’s eyes in an aggressive gaze for a couple of beats before Bakugou sighed and relinquished his short hold on her. Uraraka lifted her and rounded the couch, bringing her to the center of the little semicircle their friends had created.

“This is Bakugou Kazumi.” Uraraka introduced with a soft smile. All of their mouths dropped in awe as they stared at the tiny wrinkled creature in her arms. Kazumi’s eyes were half open and she couldn’t decided who to focus on, so many new faces beginning to overwhelm her.

“Who wants to be the first to hold her?” Uraraka asked, ignoring the sharp intake of breath coming from the blonde behind her.

“Me, me, me!” Kirishima was bouncing excitedly.

“You better sit the fuck down.” Bakugou warned, spreading out on the couch so Kirishima had no choice but to sit in the armchair. “If you drop her it’ll be the last thing you do.”

Kirishima pouted but sat down in the chair, holding his arms out. Uraraka instructed him on how to properly support her and laid her in his arms, watching Kirishima’s face morph from excitement to nervousness.

“I can’t do this.” Kirishima said immediately, looking down at her face.

Uraraka laughed and kneeled in front of him. “Don’t want to hold her anymore?”

“No, I’m gonna drop her, please-” Uraraka lifted the baby from his arms and Kirishima fell back with a dramatic sigh. “That was too much pressure.”

“Fucking piss baby.” Bakugou mumbled under his breath.

“I would like a turn!” Iida raised his hand high and then placed it tight by his side when Uraraka rose onto the balls of her face and walked over to him. She repeated what she had told Kirishima, saying the same thing to both Kaminari and Tsuyu after they were done holding Kazumi. Bakugou had put up a strong fight about Kaminari holding Kazumi because of the nature of his quirk. He didn’t want her to accidentally zap her and in all honesty Uraraka was a little nervous about that too.

“I have perfect control of my quirk!” Kaminari sniffed and Uraraka sighed, allowing him to hold her. There were no shocks present and it seemed like Kazumi enjoyed being in his arms most, eyes widening as Kaminari blew raspberries at her. She couldn’t smile yet but Uraraka had no doubt that if Kazumi could, she would be the smiliest baby ever. Uraraka couldn’t wait to see her baby girl smile.

Things boiled over when Uraraka went to place Kazumi in Midoriya’s arms.

“Absolutely not.” Bakugou stood and got in between them. Midoriya blinked up at Bakugou and Uraraka sighed. She knew Bakugou would be childish over this.

“Katsuki-”

“I’m not going to let my daughter be tainted by this fucking nerd.”

“Kacchan-”

“If the only insult you can come up with is ‘nerd’ then I think your opinion is overridden.” Tsuyu said matter of factly.

“Did I ask for your opinion you goddamn toad?” Bakugou said, not even casting her a glance.

“Hey!” Uraraka frowned and bounced Kazumi a little when she noticed her face scrunching up, getting ready to start wailing. “If you’re going to be nasty then you leave. You’re not the only one who gets to make decisions about my daughter. And since you didn’t even want her in the first place, you shouldn’t even get a say!” She knew that she was playing dirty and the hurt that flashed through fiery irises made her chest clench. But all Bakugou did was turn around and stomp up the stairs.

With an exhale, Uraraka turned once more to Midoriya with her usual gentle smile on her face. “Do you still want to hold her?”

Midoriya nervously glanced at the staircase. Uraraka knew he was waiting for Bakugou to pop back out and start screaming at him, but it didn’t come. “Oh no, no, no, I don’t think th-that’s such a good idea.”

Uraraka smiled and kissed Kazumi’s head. She had calmed down, no waterworks, only curious eyes scanning the room and landing on Midoriya’s face. The two shared a look and Midoriya squared his shoulders like he was preparing for an epic battle.

“I’ll hold her.” Midoriya decided.

Uraraka gently laid her in his arms and Midoriya was clearly nervous but he cradled her as he had heard the others be instructed. Supporting her head, supporting her bottom, holding her securely but not too tight. He was a natural. Again, Uraraka wondered what he would be like as a parent. But he wasn’t the one who held her heart. The one who did was sulking upstairs, trying to control his emotions.

“She looks like Kacchan.” Midoriya mused.

“Well she is his daughter.” Uraraka stated with a little laugh.

“A miracle, truly.” Kaminari mumbled and Kirishima elbowed him in the ribs, telling him not to be a dick. Uraraka was kind of grateful for that. She knew she made a poor choice though it was the right choice for her. She and Bakugou fit together like two puzzle pieces; perfectly.

Midoriya held Kazumi for a little while before returning her to Uraraka’s arms. She started crying a little, fake tears, tears that said she didn’t want to leave the warmth of Midoriya’s embrace. Uraraka placed a pacifier in her mouth and wiped her tears, cooing at her daughter. When she looked up, all five of her classmates were looking at her with a strange expression on their faces.

“What is it?” Uraraka asked nervously.

Iida cleared his throat. “You have changed, Uraraka.”

Uraraka’s smile was wavering. “Is that good or bad?”

Iida shook his head. “It is very good. You are happy and that is all that matters to us. You deserve happiness.”

Uraraka’s brown eyes watered and she closed them for a moment, regaining her composure. “Thank you.” She was glad somebody thought so.

Iida returned her smile and the five of them stayed for a couple more minutes before departing. Uraraka took to spending more time with Kazumi for the rest of the night and put her down after they all ate dinner. She pumped some more breast milk (that was uncomfortable) and made up three bottles before she finally confronted Bakugou in his room.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” She said, standing in the doorway.

Bakugou looked up from his phone and nodded. “You better be.”

“Don’t be like that.” Uraraka’s shoulders slumped.

Bakugou stood and walked to her slowly. Uraraka knew better than to back away; she had nothing to be afraid of. His warm, blistered palms came up to cup her face gently, red eyes meeting hers like they had hours before. “Deku makes me so fucking mad.”

“Why?” Uraraka whispered. “Why couldn’t you just put aside your differences? Don’t you want me to be happy? Iida does. They all do. You constantly go out of your way to provoke me or somebody else. Or get a reaction out of us.”

“I know.” Bakugou spoke through clenched teeth. “God I fucking know it. I just… I can’t… Fuck.” He always had a hard time putting his thoughts into words. Uraraka was patient, she always was.

“I don’t want Kazumi growing up without you. I don’t want her to grow up with her father being angry all the time and yelling at me and us arguing. I want this to work. But you have to work on yourself first.” Uraraka explained.

Bakugou’s brows creased. “Are you dumping me?”

“No!” Uraraka shook her head quickly. “I want to help you. For us. For Kazumi. Let go of that anger. Tell me about your worries. I was the only one talking in the beginning, I think you owe me the same.”

Bakugou released a trembling breath. “Fine.”

They moved to Uraraka’s room where Kazumi was sleeping just in case she woke up and needed them. They leaned against the pillows facing each other, Bakugou taking her fingers in his hand, pressing on fingernails and the pads of her fingers. The whole time he spoke quietly of his nightmares and his PTSD to every single shitty thing that happened in their first year of UA that were still affecting him.

It was the closest they had been in a while. Uraraka felt like she learned more about Bakugou in those couple of hours than she had in their entire relationship. And it was wonderful . This was what Uraraka wanted, to feel closer to him, to feel like they were an actual couple.

Falling asleep with their fingers twined together, their sleeping baby girl in her bassinet beside them, things were definitely starting to piece together quickly. All the puzzle pieces surrounding theirs were coming together, beginning to finish the picture.

[thebluemartini]

A Monolith Between Them - Part IV {Nessian}

TITLE: A Monolith Between Them

PREVIOUS PARTS: Part I, Part II, Part III

FIC LENGTH: 4 Parts

FIC SYNOPSIS: Post-ACOFAS. After living in the Illyrian Mountains for six months, Nesta decides she wants to perform the Blood Rite. Cassian isn’t too pleased.

*This fic is also posted on AO3 and FF.

TAGGING: @my-fan-side @aelinashgalathynius @acotar-feels @city-of-fae @mindnumbmikey @eclectichollow @strangeenemy @saltierthanthebottomofapretzelbag @fucking-winchester-trash @themoonunderstoodmynightmares @archeron-queen @jadeajibola @endlessworld246 @wolffrising @writevswrong @saltydreamcollector @highladyofidris @allthestarswecansee @tiredbutstillreading @fandoms-everywhere-united

A/N: Hooray! It's the final part...and oh my stars, this final chapter was a total beast to write and edit! It's so long, haha. I feel like I'm not so great at writing more action-y scenes, which is why I was nervous about writing about the Rite in the first place. Hopefully it came out okay! And I hope you enjoy this final chapter :) It’s a doozy!

Also someone letting me know if the tagging actually worked this week?? :)

Part IV - Together

Day Seven of the Blood Rite:

By some miracle, she had made it to Ramiel.

For the past two days, she did not stop despite the fact that her body begged and begged her to. Her empty stomach made it difficult for her to find the energy to go on. The wound in her thigh and the bruises and scrapes on her arms grew more tender and raw as they rubbed against her leather clothing and the stone of the monolith. Her hands kept cramping. Her eyes demanded to be shut. The cold air that blew around her sent shivers through her entire body. That dark voice within her still repeated “You’re weak” over and over in her mind.

However, Nesta remained strong and tenacious.

She still had no idea how much time she had left to reach the top of Ramiel...or if she even had any time left.

Ascending Ramiel was the toughest part yet, as its incline was nearly completely vertical. She had been forced to constantly grab hold of the jagged rocks jutting from it to stay on the enormous stone. So many times, her feet nearly slid out from under her, or her hands nearly lost their grip. Being without water for many hours left her lips chapped and her mouth dry.

She was nearing the top of one side of the monolith. Once she reached it, she would still have to hobble or crawl up the slope to reach the summit and the black stone that she needed to touch to complete the Rite.

Once the top of the monolith was within her reach, she stretched out her arms to grab hold of the edge. Summoning all her remaining strength, she pulled herself up, using her feet to help push herself upward. She managed to get her upper body on the flat surface, where she found a large stone blanketed by snow to grab hold of and help yank the rest of her body up.

Laying on her back upon the snowy ground, Nesta momentarily closed her eyes and panted from the exertion of her climb. It felt like it took an eternity to get that far, and she still had a bit more to go.

Suddenly, the sun that she felt shining upon her eyelids seemed to suddenly go away.

Nesta’s eyes shot open to find a tan-skinned Illyrian male standing before her, eyeing her with a look of disdain. “I’m certainly not going to let Cassian’s whore complete the Rite,” he grumbled and moved his foot to kick her.

Before his foot made contact with her stomach, Nesta turned on her side and tightly grabbed the large stone nearby to hang on. At the impact of his foot, Nesta let out a long wail as the force sent her legs to hang off the edge. Fury raged through her as the male kept kicking at her, trying to knock her off the monolith.

She forced her eyes to stay open as she attempted to analyze his movements. When he wasn’t expecting it and his foot came toward her, she seized his foot instead. The sudden weight upon his foot when he tried to pull it back sent him tumbling to the ground on his back.

Nesta tugged on his leg to help bring her whole body back up on the cliff. She scrambled to stand up and limped away from the monolith’s edge. Her thigh wound felt like it was completely inflamed.

“You bitch,” the male, having recovered from his fall, said as charged toward her and tackled her to the ground from behind. Nesta squirmed face-down beneath him as he moved his hands around her neck in an attempt to suffocate her.

But Nesta was quick to jerk her head back, knocking it roughly into his chin and causing him to release her. She then placed her palms against the ground and popped her upper body up, causing him to slide off her back.

However, now he was on top of her legs, still pinning her to the ground. Nesta tried to kick him, but the weight of him anchored her down and her legs were too weak. He stretched out his arm and picked up a nearby rock and pounded it repeatedly against her booted feet.

As she screamed, Nesta twisted her upper body so she could start whacking at him with her hand, but her hits seemed to have no effect on him at all. There was no strength in her slaps.

He ended up tossing away the rock and grabbing one of her hands when it came at him, tugging it toward himself as he stood up. Nesta quickly turned her body over so she was on her back. But the male came around to where her head was and kneeled one leg down on the ground. He pulled her arm out across his thigh and pushed down on it until a loud pop from her elbow joint was heard. A cry of anguish escaped her lips as the pain surged within her arm.

Dropping her injured arm, he moved to the other side of her, preparing to repeat his previous action on her other limb. Nesta kept her arm against herself and refused to let it be pulled away from her. But it looked like another idea appeared in the Illyrian’s mind, and he decided to head toward her feet instead. When he leaned down to grab them, Nesta kneed his chin, sending him stumbling back. In a quick motion, Nesta unsteadily rose off the ground and onto her now battered feet, ignoring the pain she felt.

He came charging after her once more, looking like he was determined to dive for her legs and hoist her off the ground. Sticking out her good arm against his shoulder, she halted him and curled her arm around his neck. With her arm wrapped around him, she fell back onto the ground, taking him with her. Then, she lifted her knee to smash it into his groin, causing him to let out a muffled yelp. She kneed him between the legs once more with such force that she flipped him over her body. A cracking sound was heard when he collided with the ground upon his back.

He lied there groaning, with his eyes tightly shut. But he did not move. In fact, it looked like he was unable to move.

Nesta tried to catch her breath and steady her racing heart. She gingerly rolled up the sleeve of her injured arm, then scooped up some snow from the ground beside her to hold it against her elbow joint. She grimaced as she did so, but she hoped the coolness of the snow would at least help reduce the swelling.

Looking up, she noticed the sun was setting…

Who knew if this was her final night to make it to the black stone? If this Illyrian male was on the monolith too, it must have been close to the end of the week of the Rite...

With a grunt, she turned her body over so she was now on her knees. The pain within her thigh was still there from the impaled stick, but not as strong as the pain that was throbbing through her arm and her aching feet.

But she couldn’t think about the pain. She had to keep moving. Putting the pressure on her knees and the palm of her unharmed arm, she crawled using three of her limbs.

It was the final day of the Rite, and Cassian was utterly restless.

There was an ache within him that no beverage or tonic could soothe. His anxiety could not be eased, and the frustration and regret he felt toward himself for the past mistakes he’d made with Nesta were at an ultimate high.

He certainly didn’t have any time for the taunts that were thrown his way that day either. As soon as he rose and dressed for the day, he stormed out of his cabin and headed toward the heart of the camp. Along the way, a few Illyrian males cackled and heckled him by asking where the “witch” or his “whore” was, implying that there was no way Nesta would survive. Each of those Illyrians were promptly punched in the jaw and knocked down into the snow.

Once he reached the center of the camp, Cassian paced around the unlit firepit with his fists clenched at his sides.

When he, Azriel, and Rhys had completed the Rite, their touch upon the black stone had immediately transported them back to the middle of their camp. The same would happen for Nesta if she made it.

The aches he felt throughout his body grew stronger. While clutching his stomach, Cassian plopped himself on the snowy ground beside the pit. He sat cross-legged as he prayed to the gods that Nesta was safe and would complete the Rite.

With his eyes constantly scanning the area around him, Cassian waited.

And hoped.

Nesta continued to crawl up the steep incline to the summit of Ramiel. The sky was getting darker and darker.

Her bones kept pleading for her to stop and give up, especially with her body constantly losing its balance and her clumsily trying to hang on. With all her willpower, she resisted that urge by thinking of Cassian’s words.

“Come back to me. Please.”

“Continue fighting and surviving as you always do.”

“Keep going, sweetheart.”

Fortunately, the black stone was in sight. Not a single snowflake had fallen upon it as if its mystical power was shielding it. It had the shimmer of a black diamond, and it served as her beacon.  

She needed to hang on a little bit longer…

But as soon as she passed through a row of pine trees, a gust of freezing wind blew past her that made her look down and tighten her grip on the ground beneath her. She could sense magic thrumming around her and calling to her. It seemed to pull at the magic within her from the Cauldron that had lied dormant for over a year now.

The sky suddenly turned black, causing Nesta to freeze. The wind continued to howl around her, and suddenly a young woman materialized before her.

When the woman lifted her head, Nesta recognized her face…

“Feyre?” Nesta questioned weakly in disbelief.

“I don’t know why I take pity on you. You don’t deserve it. You let me and Elain nearly starve to death, while you sat and did nothing,” she spoke with such contempt.

Elain appeared beside Feyre and nodded along to Feyre’s words. She gave Nesta a scornful look...It didn’t look right to see such a facial expression upon her face.

“And you let me die,” a male’s voice said. Nesta whipped her head to her left, where she saw her father. “How could you do nothing when the king captured me? What kind of daughter are you?”

“You will never be one of us,” Rhys stated as he appeared beside Feyre, along with Azriel, Mor, and Amren behind him.

Nesta couldn’t stop the tears that formed in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

She wished she could say these words and scenes were unfamiliar to her...but she had seen all of this and heard all of these words in her nightmares since the war. 

Her nightmares, fears, and insecurities had all come to life before her.

This isn’t real. This isn’t real, she repeated to herself in her head as she closed her eyes, trying to shut them out.

But when she heard the sound of Cassian’s voice, she felt compelled to open up her teary eyes and look behind her to see him.

“How could someone love a selfish and rotten person like you? You’re worthless. I’m only forced to love you because we’re mates.”

Seeing him stand before her and saying these things - even though she knew this was all contrived - still wounded her.

“That’s...not true,” Nesta weakly spoke aloud and shook her head up at him. Sliding her hand within her pocket, she felt around for the letter the real Cassian had given her. When her fingertips found the parchment, Nesta closed her eyes tightly and relished in the memory of what his letter had said.

These past several months, you have been irritating, infuriating, and ridiculous...as well as inspiring, enthralling, and intoxicating.

I am in love with you, Nesta Archeron.

I’ll be waiting for you, ready to not waste anymore time.

Her eyes shot open, and she sought out the black stone. In the darkness, she could no longer see it, but she knew the direction she had to go. With newfound vigor, she rushed forward on her hand and knees.

But as she did so, all the figures around her vanished, except for Cassian.

Now Cassian was flying, when a blast of light powered through the air and hit him square in the chest, sending him to the ground right in front of her. Nesta stopped and stared at him as life left his eyes.

Another nightmare had come to life. But the tears didn’t stop flowing from Nesta’s eyes. Seeing him die before her was a dagger to her chest. All this time, she had feared having these feelings for him because of how that love could make her suffer...but she couldn’t deny it anymore. She couldn’t shield herself any longer.

She couldn’t resist placing her hand against the fake Cassian’s cheek. She half-thought her hand would go through him as if he were some kind of phantom. But he was solid beneath her palm. She could even feel the stubble on his cheek.

This isn’t real. This isn’t real. Keep going.

Suppressing a shudder from what she just witnessed, she continued her crawl toward the black rock. The figures of her sisters, her father, and the Inner Circle all appeared once more, calling after her and yelling at her.

She shut them out and weakly continued her journey, hurting her knees and hand when she roved over jagged rocks in the darkness.

When the front half of her body collapsed to the ground after her arm suddenly gave out from under her, it was then that she could make out that the black rock was a short distance before her. Her body shuddered as she let out a sigh of relief.

But when she tried to move forward, she felt a hand grab hold of her boot, causing her to wince. She turned behind her and saw Cassian was there.

“Why are you leaving me, Nesta? Why are abandoning me and shutting me out like you did after the war?” he demanded to know.

Nesta just carefully shook her head. “I’m not,” she said softly. “I’m not.”

She grimaced when she tried to yank her foot out of his grip, but the apparition wouldn’t let go. She outstretched her uninjured arm as far as she could and lunged for the black rock.

But she couldn’t reach it.

She was so close…

Breathing heavily as the tears cascaded down her cheeks, she thought of all she had endured the past several days. The cold. The stick impaled in her thigh. The hazardous climb. Her broken arm. Her bruised feet. Even her own mind and magic had betrayed her.

This couldn’t all be for nothing.

She wouldn’t let it be all for nothing.

She focused on imagining what could be, if she made it back.

What it would be like to see Cassian again... to tease him as she loved to do...and to also feel him against her.  

She wanted more time in this life. Not just to be with Cassian, but to actually live and enjoy life.

“Why are you leaving me, Nesta?” the apparition of Cassian whined.

“I’m not,” Nesta firmly replied. “I’m coming home to you.” 

Once more, she threw out her arm so far that it was taut and she felt the strain within her muscles. Her fingertips grazed the edge of the stone.

Everything around her faded away in an instant.  

The sun had set over an hour ago...meaning Nesta only had a few hours left to complete the Rite.

Cassian hadn’t left his spot beside the pit. Despite the fact that his body had begun to shiver after the sun descended and the cool winds blew through, he did not budge.

The aches within him grew stronger and in the past hour or so, those aches seemed to move to his head. If he and Nesta were mates as he had suspected...Nesta must have been suffering greatly.

He let out a long, slow breath. He closed his eyes and sent up another silent prayer that Nesta would return.

At the sound of a thump against the ground, Cassian suddenly opened his eyes. He lost his breath at the sight of Nesta appearing and lying in the snow before him. Her eyes were closed and one of her arms was stretched out. Her body was shivering, and her hair was disheveled, with most of the strands having fallen out of its hair ribbon, and her Illyrian leathers were all torn up. But one of her arms...something didn’t look right. And her thigh was covered with a bloodied handkerchief...the handkerchief he had given her.

Tears formed in his eyes as he rushed toward her. “Nesta,” he whispered as he gently ran his fingers through her hair.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. Her breathing stilled when she saw him. “Are you really here?” she asked feebly.

Cassian smoothed her hair away from her face. “Yes,” he breathed. Then, without his eyes leaving hers,  he slid his hands beneath her body and scooped her up as he stood. Her face contorted with agony as he did so. He looked at her apologetically and realized he needed to get her to a healer immediately.

“What were your last words to me before the Rite? Before you said goodbye?” she asked seriously as she lifted her hand to his cheek.

“‘Come back to me please,’” he answered softly as he recalled that heart wrenching conversation that replayed in his head multiple times the past few days. “And now you have, but I need to get you -” he began to mutter, but was interrupted by Nesta lifting her head and crashing her lips against his.

He was caught off guard, but once he got over his astonishment, Cassian responded to her delicate kiss. Despite loving the taste of her, he knew they did not have time for this right now. He needed to get her injuries taken care of first. He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers. “Why do we only kiss when one of us is dying?” he wondered huskily. “We need to get you to a healer.” 

“I don’t want to waste anymore time,” Nesta said honestly while she ran her hand across his jawline before bringing it down to his chest.

“If we don’t get you to a healer soon, you won’t have much time left.”

Flying would’ve been the fastest way to get back to his cabin. But she didn’t enjoy flying, and it would just make her sicker. Plus, he risked jostling her and injuring her more if he flew. Speed walking back would just have to do.

Nesta closed her eyes as she leaned her head against his upper arm, while her hand now gripped onto to the center of his shirt.

“Hold on, Nes. Stay with me,” he said to her, and she nodded.

Cassian began to stride through the camp in the direction of his cabin as he carefully held onto Nesta.

“Now I definitely know something is wrong. I just called you ‘Nes’ and you didn’t bite my head off,” he joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She looked pale and kept her eyes closed, but when he briefly looked down, she was smiling.

As they passed a few of the other camp’s cabins en route, the door to one of them suddenly burst open and an Illyrian female ran out. In the light of the camp’s outdoor torches, Cassian realized it was Morwenna, a female he had been training and one he believed Nesta had befriended. She charged toward them, her long dark hair flying around behind her.

“She’s back!” Morwenna exclaimed as she came to Cassian’s side, keeping pace with him. A look of shock and awe was upon her face.

“Yes, but she needs medical attention immediately,” Cassian stated seriously as he continued to plow forward. At Cassian’s reply, Morwenna’s facial expression quickly transformed into one that was solemn. “Morwenna, could you please go find one of the healers and send her to my cabin?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied with a firm nod before darting off in another direction.

Nesta groaned as he strolled through the snow and walked up a small, steep incline. The sound propelled Cassian to move faster. Within the next few minutes, they had finally reached his cabin.

As soon as he entered, he headed straight for his bedroom. Gently laying her down on one side of the bed, he pulled down the blankets on the opposite side. Then he picked her up again to lay her down on the uncovered sheets and brought the blankets up over her body. Nesta opened up her eyes as her head hit the pillow. “Cassian, I need...water,” she requested quietly.

 “Yes, sweetheart,” he called out to her as he rushed out of the room. Very slowly, Nesta sat up and was about to attempt propping up her pillow when Cassian returned holding one tall glass of water and a bowl of beef broth. He quickly handed the glass to her in her good arm and placed the bowl on the stand beside the bed. “Stop trying to move. Let me do that,” he said as he reached behind her to prop her pillow against her headboard.

After a long sip of water, Nesta swallowed. “I thought I told you I don’t take orders from anyone,” she said softly as she leaned back against the headboard and grinned slyly up at him. She took another swig of water.

“And here I thought, considering your state, you would indulge me only for today,” Cassian said as he laid the back of his hand against her forehead. She was burning up. Cassian internally pleaded that Morwenna would be able to quickly find one of the healers.

Nesta gulped. “Never,” she stated, the small grin still on her face.

“Well in between sips, could you please tell me what happened to you?” Cassian requested as he looked at her arm that was out of place.

“I think one of the males broke my arm,” she replied. “Another male impaled a stick through my thigh.”

“What?” Cassian’s eyes widened. Then he carefully pulled the covers off of her and looked back down at the bloodied handkerchief wrapped around her thigh. Very gingerly, he untied it. Seeing the piece of stick that was still lodged within her thigh, he fought to keep his rage under control. The wound looked to be completely infected.

“Forgive me, sweetheart, for being so forward, but may I remove your clothes?” Cassian asked, covering up his concern with his casual bantering. He needed to get her out of her dirty clothes and prepare for the healer to look her over.

After pulling the glass away from her mouth, she nodded. “Usually, you’re so barbaric, I’m shocked you even bothered to ask,” she said sleepily as she rested her head back.

Cassian walked over to the chest at the foot of his bed and opened it, pulling out one of his shirts and tossing it on the bed near Nesta’s feet. “Well, once you’re all healed, I’ll be barbaric and we can reenact a scene from that smutty The Barbarian and the Maiden novel you read,” he said with a mischievous smile.

Nesta nearly choked on her water, causing Cassian to immediately rush to her side out of alarm. Gods forbid he kill her with his sexual innuendos after she survived the Blood Rite...

But she recovered quickly, and her eyes narrowed on him while her lips threatened to break out into a devious grin. “You’ve been reading my books?”

His eyes gleamed when he looked back down at her body to try to figure out the least painful way to get her clothes off of her. “One or two,” he replied casually, but then had to pause their playful conversation and return to the task at hand. “I’m sorry if this hurts,” he stated unhappily, and Nesta nodded in acceptance as she sat her now empty glass down on the nightstand.

When she closed her eyes, Cassian slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants and slowly pulled them down past her thighs. Nesta only winced a little when her pants peeled away from her wounded thigh. The wound was all red and had some white spots around the stick that could’ve been puss. Streaks of blood covered her thigh.

“When I’ve fantasized about bringing you to my bed and ripping off your clothes, this isn’t exactly what I had pictured,” Cassian commented with a glint in his eyes to distract her as he continued to pull her pants off of her legs and feet.

A slight blush came across Nesta’s cheeks, but she didn’t open her eyes. He tossed her pants to the floor, then stood beside her again. “I’m going to untie your top,” he informed her, and she leaned her upper body forward to grant Cassian access to her back.

“I never thought such fantasies could become a reality,” she said softly as he began to untie the laces on the back of her Illyrian leather tunic. “I never thought you could ever truly want...me.”

 Cassian’s fingers faltered in their task, and it felt like his heart had been pierced. He took a deep breath before continuing to untangle the laces. “I’ve wanted you for a long time,” he said honestly.

Once he finally finished pulling out the laces, he pulled the ribbon out of her hair and pushed her hair to the side, over her shoulder. Leaning forward, he placed a light kiss on the back of her neck. He thought he saw a slight shiver go down her spine.

Then he went to the front of her body to carefully slide the leather sleeves of her shirt from her arms. A pained cry escaped her lips when it went over her dislocated arm. After he threw it to the ground, he grabbed the bottom edge of her black shirt that was beneath the leather tunic and gingerly lifted it up and over her head. She let out another pained moan when she outstretched her arms above her head.

All she was currently wearing now was a bra and underwear. Out of politeness, Cassian looked away from her body. He swiftly reached for his shirt that he had tossed on the bed and put it on her. It was large and loose and would probably go down to her knees if she stood up.

She leaned back against the pillows and stared up at him as he brought the blankets back over her body. He placed his hand against her cheek. It was the same spot where he had put his hand when he said goodbye to her before the Rite. And now to have her before him after the Rite...He could feel that she really was here. This wasn’t a dream. This time, he leaned forward and placed a kiss to her forehead.

“Cassian, I…” Nesta began to say feebly when he pulled away, but stopped when Morwenna and Leta, one of the Illyrian healers, burst into the room.

He would need to figure out what she wanted to say later. But for now, he was thankful the healer was finally here to take care of her. Cassian stepped away and let Leta look her over. The female pulled back the blankets to analyze her injuries. “Explain to me what happened,” Leta kindly ordered.

 Nesta recounted the skirmishes she endured the past week, and Cassian fought to keep his rage minimal as she spoke. He wished he could break the necks of those snotty males...or at least break something. But who knew if they even made it back...he didn’t know which he hoped for more: that they suffered and perished in the Rite, or that they survived only to return and have to deal with Cassian’s fury.

When Nesta concluded, Leta immediately ordered her to consume the beef broth on the nightstand as she dug through the medicine in her bag. Before Nesta could even attempt to grab the bowl with her good arm, Cassian beat her to it. He picked up the bowl and began feeding her spoonfuls of it.

As she ate, Leta added tonics to heal her and to knock her unconscious into the broth. Once she finished eating, Nesta stretched out her good arm toward Cassian. He put down the bowl and spoon on the nightstand and eagerly accepted her hand in his grasp. “Thank you,” she whispered drowsily.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Cassian answered. He brought their hands up to his face and kissed the back of her hand.

Nesta squeezed his hand as her eyes closed, and she instantly fell into a deep sleep. 

She wasn’t sure how many hours or how many days had passed, but she slipped in and out of consciousness.

Most of the time, Nesta was in a deep sleep. But every so often, she’d awake or be nudged awake by Cassian, who would be sitting beside her, ready and waiting with a bowl of broth to feed her containing tonics to help her heal and sleep.  As soon as she would finish, he’d hand her a glass of water to drink.

Too drowsy to speak and too preoccupied with eating and drinking whenever she awoke, words were not exchanged between her and Cassian during the short periods of time she was awake, save for his gentle orders for her to either eat and drink and his whispers of “Goodnight, sweetheart,” when she would slowly fall back asleep. Before she drifted off, she felt him kiss her temple each time.

Overall, her sleep had been dreamless...until one instance where she thought she had woken up on her own. She searched for Cassian, expecting him to be nearby and ready, as usual, to feed her.

But he wasn’t there...instead she found a letter addressed to her on the nightstand. Opening it up, she read through its contents:

Nesta,

I thought I loved you, but I think it was just the mating bond that messed with my brain and deceived me. I don’t love you. I don’t want anything to do with you.

Don’t expect to see me ever again.

-Cassian

The words sent tears streaming down her face, and she felt like she was suffocating.

Gasping for air, her eyes shot open and she found herself still in Cassian’s bed and no letter beside her. In the dim room, she reached her hand out to the side of her along the mattress, hoping to find Cassian beside her to reassure her that what just occurred was just a nightmare.

But her hand never found Cassian’s. She turned her head to find no one was beside her. Hyperventilating, she tried to push away her fears that Cassian really did run off and abandon her. Surely, he was just in the cabin somewhere...

But the nightmare had felt so real...Was the dream actually a premonition of what was to come?

Pushing away her covers, she got up off the bed without wincing.

Looking down, she realized she was still wearing Cassian’s shirt. Stretching out her arm, she found it no longer looked dislocated and didn’t ache. She also lifted up her leg to examine her thigh and saw that her wound was stitched up and healing.

She felt so...brand new. It was as if she had never physically suffered from the Blood Rite. There certainly were benefits to having a fae body….

Determined to find Cassian, she strolled out of his bedroom and headed down the hallway toward his study. Peeking her head around the door frame, she discovered he wasn’t there.

Ignoring her nerves, she went back down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen and the living room. But she still couldn’t find him.

Going to the front door, she turned the knob and opened it.

There, she found Cassian carrying a brown sack and about to take a step up to the small porch that led to his entryway. At the sound of the door creaking open, his head perked up. At first, he was beaming, but in a flash, that beam faded.

“You should be lying down,” he said seriously.

Nesta stepped back, pulling the door open with her to allow him entrance. “We’ve been over this before. You can’t order me around,” she said sternly.

Cassian stepped inside, and Nesta closed the door behind him. She turned around so her back was against the door, and Cassian approached her.

“Where were you?” she asked in a tone mixed with panic and irritation.

“I needed to go buy you some more food. We were nearly out of broth, and I think you’ll be ready to move onto more solid foods soon. Then I ended up flying to Velaris because I remembered there was that one tea you enjoy from one of the shops so I had gotten that too,” Cassian explained calmly as his eyes tried to search hers for...something. “I’m sorry. You’d been sleeping for over nine hours at a time the past few days. I didn’t expect you to be awake so soon. I shouldn’t have gone.”

He was out buying food for her, even going as far to find her favorite tea...to even further take care of her. All her life, she felt let down...especially by men. Her father abandoned her and her sisters, not even bothering to ensure they were nourished or caring that they lived. She thought Tomas Mandray would be the one to help take care of her...but that was all a facade. All he wanted to do was feed his own lustful desires.

After such experiences, she had previously sworn to herself that she would never trust a man again.

But then Cassian came into her life...and had been slowly breaking that resolve down.

Right now, she just needed to feel him and assure herself once more that all of this was real. She needed to truly know that he was before her and really taking care of her and not just part of her imagination. Abruptly, she tightly wrapped her arms around Cassian’s torso and closed her eyes as she laid her head against his chest. Cassian dropped the sack he was carrying to the ground, which made a small thump when it hit the floor. Some items in the bag spilled out and scattered on the floor, but he ignored it. He wrapped his arms around her in return.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“Is that how you always respond when someone shows you affection?” she said, careful to not let any tears escape her eyes. Trying to hide her concern, she continued. “Are you so unused to it that you assume something must be wrong with someone to want to embrace you?”

“This is more of an I’m terrified yet so relieved to see you kind of a hug rather than a Cassian, you are the sun my world revolves around and I just want to worship you constantly hug.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “I would never hug you like that.”

Cassian pulled back and gripped his hands on her upper arms as he stared her directly in the eyes. “What’s wrong?” he repeated.

Nesta paused, then shook her head. “Nothing.”

Cassian sighed out of frustration. “Is that how this is going to go?” he asked angrily. “You’re just going to shut me out again? If I have to go through that again...I won’t be able to take it. I don’t want you just at arm’s length, Nesta. I want all of you. The good and the bad. I don’t want to be just a meaningless fling for you.”

The old Nesta probably would’ve fired back at him, telling him it was none of his business to know everything and it was presumptuous of him to think she’d want him to be more than a fling. But now...Nesta’s heart raced beneath her chest. She didn’t want to lose him. She was screwing this up. She wanted him more than anything. She needed to be honest with him and fix this. After all she realized in the Blood Rite…

“You’re not!” she exclaimed.

“Then what am I to you?”

How could she even find the words to explain what he meant to her?

“You’re...everything to me,” she finally said. “And that scares me,” she added softly as tears began to form in her eyes. 

“Why?”

She hesitated, but finally decided to bring up her suspicion that they’d never spoken of. “What if these feelings are just because of...a possible mating bond between us? What if this is just one more thing in my life that I have no control over?”

When she mentioned the mating bond, Cassian seemed to go still for a moment, but then shook his head at her. “Remember what I told you? Mates don’t have to care about each other.  As far as I’m aware, Elain still doesn’t seem to have any kind of feelings for Lucien. Rhys and Feyre are an extraordinary case. Do you feel something more than a strong pull to me or more than a feeling of possessiveness? Then whatever you feel is real. It’s not something that’s been forced on you.”

“The thought of losing you...or of you betraying me or disappointing me...it leaves me feeling dead inside. I just don’t know what I’d do if any of that happened, and I couldn’t tell if I truly felt like I couldn’t live without you, or if it was because of some ridiculous bond between us,” Nesta shook her head as the tears continued to fall.

Cassian brought his hands to the sides of her face and started wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “For the week of the Rite, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and worrying about you. I missed you walking into my cabin unannounced and you rolling your eyes at me when I made some comment that you insisted was ridiculous. I missed your glares, your insults, and those rare times you’d give me a small smile. I missed you. I know, without a doubt, my feelings for you are real and are my own. They aren’t because of some possible bond.”

Her heart hammered within her chest. She remembered how it occurred to her during the Rite that she may never be able to tease Cassian again, never get to hear him make a silly sexual comment again, never feel the thundering of her heart when he called her “sweetheart,” and never get to just simply...talk to him.

She had missed him immensely. Even the week leading up to the Rite where they didn’t see each other...she missed him.

Was she relieved that her feelings were indeed her own? Her feelings for him were so overwhelmingly strong that it slightly frightened her.

She took a deep breath. “When I was on Ramiel...something in my magic called to the magic of the monolith. It brought to life all the nightmares I had had in the past year.”

Cassian’s eyes widened at this information.

“And those nightmares involved you saying I was unworthy of love, or you dying by that Cauldron’s blast of light...and they always left me feeling so broken. Then today, I dreamed I woke up, and you were gone for good, claiming your feelings for me were just because of the bond. So when you weren’t here when I really did wake up, I was terrified.”

Cassian continued to rub her face. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve given you reasons to not trust me by failing to protect you and failing to keep some of my promises...but I’m determined to follow through with my promises now. I will not abandon you.”

Nesta nodded as she grabbed onto his forearms. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you and for shutting you out.”

“We both have things to work on,” Cassian replied honestly. “And we can work through them together.”

“Are you sure you want this? That you want me?” she couldn’t help but ask, still feeling skeptical that this was all real.

Cassian sighed. As he firmly held her face still, he looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve never wanted anything more. Don’t let your doubts consume you. They’ll drive you mad.”

“You’re ordering me around again,” she stated as she narrowed her eyes at him, but she failed to be truly stern with him. A smile spread across her face.

Cassian hesitantly smiled back. “But do you want this?” he asked seriously.

While it was indeed a risk to be with him and that she feared where this fierce love would lead her... Who knew how much time she would have left in this life? This life she had never wanted...until now.

Now she had a life where she no longer stood by and did nothing. Now she could actually help other females and train them, help them find a greater purpose that was bigger than themselves.

And now she had the chance to freely love someone without the worries of status and if a man could merely provide for her for the rest of her life. Now she was able to take care of herself, while also being truly loved for who she was.

“Yes,” she replied confidently.

The joy she saw on his face...It sent her heart racing, and she never wanted to see him without such joy again.

“Are you sure you want to risk being with an extraordinarily handsome male who sends your heart aflutter with every touch and will do anything to prove his love for you?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Against my better judgment, yes.”

Cassian grinned, then brought his face down closer to hers so his breath brushed against her lips and tickled her nose. “So you admit that I am extraordinarily handsome?”

“Will you just kiss me already?”

Cassian chuckled. “Maybe I should tease you just a bit longer to give you a taste of the painful waiting I had to endure while you did the Blood Rite.”

“Cassian,” she said sternly and leaned forward to kiss him herself, but he dodged his head away from her.

“Have I told you how proud I am of you, my sweet Illyrian warrior, for completing the Rite?”

“No, but you can tell me later and just reward me now,” she requested anxiously as she wrapped her hands around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair.

“I can’t wait to see Devlon’s face when he sees you. And when you start training the Illryian females...I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself and keep my hands and lips off you,” Cassian rambled on.

“Well, there’s no need to control yourself right now,” Nesta remarked impatiently.

“How are you feeling?” he questioned her sincerely.

“Physically, I’m completely fine. Emotionally, however, I’m so frustrated, I could slap you.”

“Fine. I know how irresistable I am, so I’ll put you out of your misery.”

“How kind of you,” she said sarcastically and groaned at his pompousness, but she was interrupted by Cassian capturing her lips in a kiss, and that groan turned into a moan of pleasure.

The kiss was firmer and more passionate than the two kisses they’d previously shared since neither of them was dying this time. Cassian pushed her back against the door. With something behind her helping to support her, Cassian began to kiss her even more forcefully, as if nothing could satiate his appetite for her.

The passion and the force of his kisses nearly sent her knees buckling. Sensing her falter, Cassian ran his hand up along her thigh, sending an electrifying sensation through her body. His kisses didn’t stop as he lifted her thigh up, then wrapped both of his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her off the ground. His wings flared out behind him, and Nesta lifted both her legs to encircle them around his waist.

When he tried to pull away from her, she wouldn’t let him. Instead, she used her teeth to tug on his lower lip, eliciting a moan from him that sent a delighted thrill through her.

Eventually, Cassian managed to reluctantly pull his lips away from hers. Their faces were only an inch apart as they breathed heavily on each other. He tilted his head up at her, and Nesta rested her forehead against his.

“I love seeing you in my shirt,” he growled. “And I love you, Nesta Archeron.”

“I know,” she answered smugly. “I got your letter.”

“And what did you think of it?”

“It could’ve been written more neatly.”

This time, Cassian rolled his eyes at her.

“It was a bit long too. It nearly put me to sleep,” she added nonchalantly.

Cassian gave her a look to show he was unimpressed with her comments.

“And I don’t think I would’ve survived the Rite without it,” she finished seriously.

The amusement left Cassian’s face and was replaced with a tender expression.

“I meant what I said when I wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t survive the Rite,” he told her. “The week of the Rite was unbearable...words cannot describe how it felt to see you return.”

Nesta rubbed the back of his neck. “I may have been ill, but I meant it when I said I didn’t want to waste anymore time either.”

“Then we’ll stop wasting it,” he said in a low voice before leaving a trail of kisses along her jawline.

“I love you, Cassian,” she mumbled before pulling his face so he was back to staring right at her. With a deep inhale of his woodsy scent, she fiercely kissed his beaming face.

The End

A/N: Man, writing this fic really took over my life. I'm a bit relieved it's over and will now probably take a break from writing Nessian :)

Thank you SO much to everyone who has read this/liked this/left comments/reblogged this! I hope you enjoyed this final part! I would love to get a comment from you and thank you personally! :)

When I first had this fic idea, I only wanted to write an angsty Nessian goodbye before the Rite and a cute reunion scene between them after Nesta survives the Rite...my how this mini fic evolved haha. I feel like the Rite is probably way more difficult than what I've described... I'm still learning how to write scenes that are action-y and aren't focused on romantic drama, haha. So that's really why I only focused on some days of the Rite for Nesta. :D

Anyway, thanks again! I hope you all have a fabulous day!

[oilooknohands]

Why Oblivion’s Dark Brotherhood was way better than Skyrim’s

Oblivion’s Dark Brotherhood was arguably one of the most memorial parts of The Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion. And as for Skyrim’s, well, I’m convinced that if you took out the pure awesome idea of killing the emperor, it suddenly falls very flat.

Note: I’ve been obsessed with these two games lately. On my latest assassin play-through of Oblivion, I downloaded Deepscorn Hollow, took the weapons of all my fallen comrades after purifying the Cheydinhal Sanctuary and placed them in spots of honour within my new home. Vicente’s claymore, whom I considered my mentor and closest friend after Lucien, was in the pedestal of my bedchamber. I would’ve put Lucien’s there, but I couldn’t find it after he was made into a meat hanging (thanks Mathieu, you fuck). The Overall Organisation

I’m willing to accept the idea of Skyrim’s guild being weaker. In fact, I think it’s a great idea and even gives it more substance. But without the old ways, I’m honestly not sure why the Dark Brotherhood exists at all. I’m not only talking about the Black Sacrament going unheard, because the idea behind the Night Mother goes a little deeper than that.

Let’s look at Oblivion, and how Skyrim’s Dark Brotherhood failed to emulate it.

The old ways were a lot more than just a bunch of rules; the attitude that came with them is what bound an unlikely collection of psychopaths together into what they called a “family”. They’re the reason the assassins had such a fondness for each other.

Let me give you a quote from Lucien Lechance:

“Have you not heard of the Dark Brotherhood? Of the remorseless guild of paid assassins and homicidal cutthroats? Join us, and you'll find the Dark Brotherhood to be all that, and so much more. We are, more than anything, a union of like-minded individuals.”

You’ll note that Lucien wants you to know that the Dark Brotherhood is a union. It’s kind of like a “we’re all in this together” kind of way. And it’s not just tough love, because the mythos of the Night Mother and the assassins being her children is the reason for this family-like bond. Even as you join the brotherhood for the first time in Oblivion, everyone (except Dar) welcomes you with open arms and overwhelming support, because they know that you are now their brother, someone who has come forward to adopt their strict ways of life. Like family, merely by being apart of the brotherhood, you are already deserving of respect and affection, unless you outright prove unworthy.

Now, this whole bond came from the old ways and the attitude it put into its subordinates. Without this way of life (which Astrid refers to as ‘outdated’) why exactly is everyone in Skyrim’s Dark Brotherhood apparently so close with one another? Why do they consider themselves a family if they’ve apparently abandoned this life-style and instead live as they see fit?

Take Nazir for example. He says “-the dark brotherhood saved me from myself.”

Saved you? How? They’re just a bunch of cutthroats with a truce against each other. There’s nothing binding these people together except for the fact that they’re all crazy and homicidal. You can describe them the same way you describe bandits. Why do you, and the rest of these people, apparently have an unbreakable bond, if you’ve abandoned the old way?

I get that Skyrim’s Dark Brotherhood is different, and has purposely abandoned the old ways, but without them it makes no sense that they would even have a reason to call each other a “family”, which they do anyway. It almost downplays how Oblivion’s Dark Brotherhood was so special. The game is saying that any bunch of jokers could become a family as long as they didn’t kill each other and lived together in some place.

The Characters

When Alduin scalds you for not meeting the standard set by the original heros, I feel the same way meeting Skyrim’s Assassins. Aside from Babette and Cicero, I don’t really like any of them. I’ll explain each character, next to the character I think they’re closest to in Oblivion.

By the way, I won’t cover Babette and Cicero, but I’ll quickly say this: Babette had some questionable moments herself, but I forgave them because she was colourful. And Cicero, well, it’s hard to dislike him after you read his journals, and see the way he went to hell and back because of his devotion to his duty. 

MOVING ON.

Astrid/Lucien Lechance

Now, I know Astrid was a traitor, which makes a lot of people dislike her, but I’m going to say that even before the quest Death Incarnate, or even before the quest The Cure for Madness, she’s still kind of awful.

Let me compare these two leaders by describing them without talking about their appearance, abilities or roles.

Lucien LeChance: Cold, calculating, intelligent, strong-willed, loyal, honest, sadistic.

Astrid: Proud, arrogant, paranoid, foolish, short-sighted.

In the simplest terms, Astrid was weak. But I’m not going to dwell on this any longer, because in her case, it was intentional, and this is more salt than criticism. 

Nazir/Vicente Valtieri

I like Nazir. But there’s an issue here.

The reason Vicinte’s role in the story was so genius relates back to what I said earlier, about the old ways being essential to the dark brotherhood’s identity as a family. Vicinte is your first quest-giver, and he tells you not to worry about him feeding on you, because the needs of the dark brotherhood are too great. His role is a great way to introduce to you the mentality behind the merry band of murderers.

The first time you met Nazir, well, he’s an asshole. I know he got better toward the end, but if truth be told, respecting someone after they kill the emperor isn’t exactly a big thing to ask.  

Now, Nazir did grow on me, I’ll admit, but the role of these two characters kind of represent my problem with the Skyrim Dark Brotherhood as a whole.

Festus Krex/M’raaj-Dar

Festus introduces himself as the kranky old uncle that everyone should avoid. I mean, isn’t it a contradiction to introduce yourself like this? It’s like going up to a random stranger on the street and telling them to not talk to you, because you hate talking to people you don’t know.

M’raaj-Dar downright ignored you the entire time, but you could still seamlessly talk to Festus about whatever you wanted. There wasn’t really any reason for him to be a grumpy outsider and it never fit into the story.

Festus grew on me about the same time that I grew on him, but his character is rather uninspired. He’s just a grumpy man who likes being known as the grumpy man.

Feeling that family love right about now.

Veezara/Teinaava + Ocheeva

Veezara isn’t bad, but he wasn’t nearly as interesting as Teinaava or Ocheeva, who set a hard bar to compete with. 

The twins are clearly well-connected, as Ocheeva has been trusted with leadership, and Teinaava is tuned in enough with Argonia to know when and where to send you to kill Scar-Tail. And you get the idea that they’re intelligent and well-travelled. For example, Teinaava knows how to exploit Fort Sutch’s defences and how to escape from Gaston Tussaud’s ship. Ocheeva even mentions completing a contract on a ship at sea near Vvardenfel.

Aside from being a shadowscale, which was cool, Veezara didn’t have much going for him. Ocheeva and Teinaava were very colourful. Most of Veezara’s conversations were like this:

               Tell me about yourself.

                               Well, I am a shadowscale, and I was trained to kill.

               How do you feel about Cicero and the Night-mother?

                               I don’t know. All I know is, I am a shadowscale, and I was                                     trained to kill.

And that’s pretty much it.

You know it’s cooler if you don’t go flaunting it around in everyone’s face. 

Basically, make Veezara an Imperial or a Nord, and he will be far less memorable.

Gabrielle/Telaendril

I don’t really know what to say about Gabrielle, because I don’t know anything about her. (I have the official game guide for Skyrim, and it has bios for every character in the Dark Brotherhood. It doesn’t say much about Gabrielle.)

These characters aren’t even that similar, except for the fact that they’re both Mer archers.

Telaendril had personality. She was eager to please and lusted after the chance to advance in the guild, as seen by her disappointment by not being given the “special assignment”. She also tried telling Gogron about the virtues of stealth, and in doing so she was showing her loyalty to the old ways. However she also let her guard down around Gogron because she had a soft-spot for him (and a wet spot too, or so Gogron claims). It made her seem well connected and apart of the family, and not just a shoe-in to have an archer in the assassin’s guild.

Which Gabrielle was.

I didn’t even know she was an archer until I destroyed the Dark Brotherhood in another profile. I killed Gabrielle’s pet spider and used its venom to poison her, and then I cut her head off of and threw it in the pond.

Arnbjorn/Gogron gro-Bolmog

These characters both fit in the role of “ignorant warrior who just likes to kill”. Gogron likes you from the start, Arnbjorn is an asshole but becomes nicer (am I noticing a pattern here?).

Gogron’s ignorance made him charming, because he was just in the Dark Brotherhood doing what he loved, and he was happy to talk to you even if he wasn’t completely clear on what he was doing.

When asked about the night mother: “All I know is, she pays me to kill people. My own mother should’ve loved me so.”

When Arnbjorn is ridiculed about disrespecting the night mother: “Keep talking little man, and we’ll see who gets punished.”

One of them isn’t aware of his ignorance, and it makes him likeable. One of them embraces what little he knows, which makes him annoying.

Not to mention, why exactly did Arnbjorn dislike you, only to end up respecting you towards the end of the questline? Apparently it’s because you “proved yourself time and time again” but if he was just distrusting of your competence, why wasn’t his wife’s testimony enough? Or, killing Alain and his gang, or something earlier?

Each time I do The Purification, it’s completely heartbreaking. For Death Incarnate, I don’t care.

So long Arnbjorn! I hope you skip the Hunting Grounds and go straight to BURNING IN HELL!

Quests

Something tells me I won’t need to try hard to prove this point.

Skyrim’s assassinations were all very basic. You had a bunch of side missions, where you killed targets who weren’t going anyway. And, you also had the main quests. There were no unique ways to kill any of your targets, and no extra effort required for any of them, except for thinking about an escape.

Oblivion’s assassinations were all so incredible and memorable. Even the most basic one involved smuggling yourself onto a ship to kill the captain and escaping through the back.

There was also the quest where you became a sleuth and tracked down an Altmer skooma addict, or another where you were invited to a party and had to murder each guest (or turn them against each other), or there was infiltrating an occupied military fort, and the prison you started the game in.

The purification, which broke everyone’s hearts, I will speak no more about.  

And my favourite part, defeating the members of the Black Hand. Replaying the quest knowing who these targets REALLY are makes each of them seem like a legend in their own right.

J’Ghasta, the Khajiit martial artist who could kill with his enemies without being armed. Shaleez, the Argonian huntress (who is probably also a shadowscale) who made her lair in an abandoned flooded mine. Alval Uvani, the travelling Dunmer wizard who is a master of destruction. Havilstein Hoar-Blood, the Nord barbarian residing in the mountains, who is probably strong enough to send you down the mountain in a single swing of his axe (or was it a hammer?). And finally, we come to the listener, Ungolim. The Bosmer archer who has by now been anticipating you, and whose hunter-like instincts make him detect you before you strike.

As terrible as it was to learn that you killed even more of your comrades, you learned that each of them was a formidably killer with deadly prowess, not only making them worthy targets of a highly-trained assassin, but the perfect leaders for the shadowy organisation.

Was there anything that memorable in Skyrim’s Dark Brotherhood? 

You fought against some Imperial agents, I guess. You fought Alain.

…

The end :/

In Conclusion

I know most people probably already agreed with me on these points, but I just wanted to get them settled. Hopefully in the next Elder Scrolls game, the brotherhood is strong with the old ways again, and not everyone dies.

[oflgtfol]

bc i cant stop thinking abt that dream.. im gonna elaborate on it because it was so detailed and so long and felt so real

so it started off with me in a small library but like, it was so cramped and the lights were off. bookshelves were everywhere, and most were like only waist high? strange adults were everywhere, standing against the walls/shelves or sitting in the aisles. all had their hands cuffed behind their backs or in front of them and they all had like, tape or something over their mouths. but there were some adults among them in bullet proof vests and with guns in their hands. i dont know the situation like i dont even think i acknowledged it in the dream but from context clues im p sure it was like a hostage situation

so im in there sneaking around, in the back of my mind i just Know that my parents and my brother are also in the room also sneaking thru the aisles. all the hostage adults are staring at me like, acknowledging that they know im here to help rescue them. so after a few close calls around corners almost getting caught by the gunmen i get to a somewhat open area, meanig that its still cramped but its a small square between bookshelves with a table and 2 chairs. theres a TON of hostages squeezed into this area. i knew that that was the objective, that i had to get there

so me and my family burst forward and the gunmen spot us, but the hostages all help us overwhelm the guys. the gunmen are shooting blindly into the crowd, aiming mostly for me and my family, and SOMEHOW everybody else dodges it but me. literally it went in slow motion and i saw it like in third person, watching it come towards me and i was like “watch it hit me lmao. oh fuck its actually gonna hit me”

so i get shot in my stomach during all this and the pain just, it wasnt all that bad really? like it felt like uhm. getting hit with a water balloon actually (i was just in a water fight yesterday and now upon realizing this its like.... did that contribute to this dream....) so then its all clear like the bad guys are defeated, it gets kinda blurry at this point but i know in some disembodied way that i told my parents after everything wrapped up when they were asking if everyone was okay that i was hit, and they like, didnt care. i was like “HEY i got SHOT in the stomach!” and theyre like k and it took them foreverrrrrrr to get me medical attention. and i wasnt even.. bleeding outwardly? so i was so worried about internal bleeding because like HEY i have a bullet in me so i must be bleeding somewhere like,,, come on lmao

the next like visual thing i remember is in the hospital. its been a while since like, i woke up so this is kinda blurry too but i remember being put into a wheelchair by some nurses.. ive been in a wheelchair only once and that was in 2nd grade but this one i was allowed to use like, on my own, so it threw me off? and at this point i was like, fuck, i’ve been shot before when i was little. i’ve done this before. i had to go into surgery and everything. but it was all vague flashes i could barely remember it but it felt a lot like when i remember the major things from my childhood that i just COMPLETELY forgot about for so long, like speech therapy? like i had gotten injured from a gun when i was less than ten years old and i just, forgot about that? i was like HOW did i forget about this

so i was already in the hospital at this point but for the one room, i wheeled up to the entrance and it felt kinda like the 11th/12th grade cafeteria entrance that i use in school?? a small double door, blank walls, kinda dark, empty, and there was a nurse checking us in. at this point i was surrounded by all my classmates from my ap lang class, or maybe not ap lang in particular idk since like all the ap kids are mostly grouped together despite class? idk man. but my classmates were literally all fine idk why they were there? they werent even there for checkups or anything (disregarding the fact that you dont get a check up at a hospital you get that at a normal doctors office..) so i was there in my literal wheelchair and the nurse was like “wait your turn!!” she was really snooty it was annoying i was like, word for word, “uhm HELLO i have a GSW in my abdomen!!!!!!” and my one classmate finally spoke up as he was being checked in he was like “uh hey brot is here and like, got shot, so i think she should go first lmao?” so the nurse finally smiled at me and admitted me in

and it led to this small cramped room where they scanned your entire body for every single thing wrong with it adn they displayed it on a board where everyone could see, including my classmates, and i was like ohh my god. oh my god. the nurses were like “hm you could eat better but overall you’re in good health!” and i was like DUDE thats embarrassing i dont want everybody to see all my minute issues and LIKE I AM LITERALLY INJURED I HAVE A BULLET IN MY STOMACH WHY ARE YOU DISCUSSING MY DIET WHEN THERE ARE MORE PRESSING ISSUES...

so finally we go into the actual room and its this giant giant mostly empty room, im remembering this room from my first go at this from when i was a kid. theres a table in the middle thats pretty big but has.. no chairs around it... but theres puzzles and weird bookmark things scattered around on it to keep you occupied, and then theres a single table far removed from everything else, only long enough for a body and slightly wider, and theres one identical to that on the other side of the room. and i know from when i was a kid that those are for surgeries and like, i KNOW this but i was like, wrow thats unsanitary lmao

so i go to the table in the middle because thats where you’re supposed to wait till you’re called for surgery, but im so ANXIOUS because like.. its surgery... and now im remembering more of it from when i was a kid like im remembering going into it, waking up from it... my classmates are all sitting on the table like its some casual after school thing, theyre all talking

and then i remember from the first surgery. i remember the surgery itself. i apparently wasnt put under for it. i was conscious during it. i was numbed out obviously but like, i was AWAKE, and that makes me SO fucking scared for my upcoming surgery. like, enough that some of my classmates sense that im getting more and more anxious so they start shoving the bookmarks in my face, and the bookmarks are like the weird ones from the library irl that have quotes on them, and like i cant even read any because im just so anxious like im keeled over in the wheelchair so anxious about it, and the fact that my classmates are trying to interact with me during this is just making it worse like i APPRECIATE trying to make me feel better but i CANNOT read right now

and like, i was never called for surgery? im sitting there until the sun sets, but i only know that because i eventually leave the room just needing to do SOMETHING and the hospital lobby, for all the people waiting for patients? is empty and the sky outside is the dark blue kind of like, twilight

i really dont know how this dream suddenly turns, like i cannot remember the breaching moment and idk if its because its been almost 12 hours since i woke from the dream or if there even WAS a breaching moment

but the next thing i know is that me and shannen are running (me wheeling furiously) along the top of some like, wall. and the hospital looming in front of us is now some sort of fortified citadel, and we’re on one of the defensive walls around it, theres towers and spires everywhere in the distance around the citadel. and theres fucking. ANGELS attackign the place. the angels are classic white dress wearing, harp playing, type creatures but their eyes are all closed and black tears are running down their faces, and literally everything else about them is white. the dresses are this weathered white, their skin is weathered white (like, like marble but without the darker lines yknow?), and their eyes + tears are the darkest things on them so they stand OUT. and their mouths are flat lines, also black like as if its like, lineart or something yknow? like their faces look like masks but they arent. they have harps in one hand and then LONG ass swords in their other hands and they are fuckign terrifying

so me and shannen are outside of the main area of attack and we stumble upon this part of the wall thats like, collapsed, and theres a fucking OCEAN next to the citadel. so the stones that have fallen into the water, theres some sort of chariot on it with the same kind of look as the angels, white + black accent kinda look to it. the chariot is low lying and theres a figure laying over it, collapsed, reaching forward at nothing almost like a zombie trying to move? and he.. god i wanna say it was icarus but i really dont know because i feel, deep down that his name started with an e but i have no idea what dude it would be then bc i know it was a guy from greek mythology somehow but IDK WHO... so this guy also has the same vibe as the angels but his face is like, a fuckign mess, like it looked like he was melting (maybe thats why i wanna say icarus idk) but the melted parts were black, plus the black eyes (whcih were semi open) and the black tears and his mouth was kinda open in a silent wail (also black). i wanna say he had black hair too but idk maybe the whole black mass on his overall head was just the melting.. and this melted black liquid is strewn all over the chariot and the stone block thats barely out of the water. and out of the water, behind the chariot, all the angels were bursting forward and heading to the citadel like as if it was the Angel Spawn Point

IDK it was such a weird fuckign sight it looked like a fallen angel but i just knew deep down that it was some guy from greek mythology but I DONT KNOW WHO IT WOULD BE especially with a name starting with e..!!!

anyway yeah i woke up then. the whole angel sequence was super short compared to the rest of the dream, but it was more on par with what i normally dream than the rest? like i dont recall ever having guns in my dreams except for maybe one dream in middle school that was like,,,,, nuclear apocalypse type thing......... and never have i ever been like, INJURED like that in a dream? i’ve died in dreams yeah but ive never been like.. shot.. the closest thing i can think of was that one weird borderline nightmare earlier this year where i died of internal bleeding in school due to school negligence..... hm!

like idk this was just such a weird dream i normally have very very wild dreams with a more fantasy element to them, and the mundane ones are just me in school or on tumblr, like ive never had like, an ACTION MOVIE kinda thing??

and it felt SO REAL like when i woke up i literally thought that i had some sort of repressed gun related traumatic event from my childhood that i was only uncovering now and it was only when i realized that i was in bed and not like, at the hospital with a gun wound in my stomach, that i was like oh haha no thats not real

[animeniac]

Starbomb Ch. 4

Fandom: BNHA Pairing: Bakugou x Uraraka Genre: Romance and Comedy probably Chapter Summary: Bakugou and Uraraka start talking outside of class and happen to work out together. She learns to handle his explosive personality, and he discovers greater depths to her resilience. (See Chapter 1 for story summary.)

A/N: I think I’m getting good feedback. However, I hate posting stuff here because of the interface so I might slow down. -_- The people here are really nice, though. Thank you for reading.

[AO3][FFnet] Content Warning: Non-graphic and brief chikan scene.  

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII

Sometime before dinner one evening, Midoriya encountered Asui Tsuyu right outside the main building of the campus. She happened to be his partner for the sensitivity assignment.

What was interesting about Asui to him was the fact that no matter how nervous he became, she would react with her consistently stoic facial expression. Something about her insanely even temper put him at ease and brought him to a maintainable level of composure - almost. Would she be a good person to listen to his turmoil? Often, she said whatever came to mind, and so, she would at least be honest.

Before pouring out the circumstances in their entirety to her, he needed to recount what was appropriate for him to share.

"Midoriya?" she asked, and when he looked up, she continued, "I said that we should meet up tomorrow after class, ribbit."

"Oh, right, sure, Asui - I mean, Tsu. I was just thinking about everything that happened with Kacchan and Uraraka the other. It was pretty crazy, right?" Midoriya mentioned as casually as he could.

Asui tilted her head and asked, "Is that weird for you?"

He tried to look into her unchanging eyes and gulped, "I-I guess. I didn't think he'd ever be interested in a girl - especially like Uraraka."

She replied, "How do you feel about Uraraka?"

What? Where did that come from? Midoriya was unsure of how his feelings related to the topic at hand. Of course, he blushed, but he couldn't tell if that burst of emotions matched the general flutter of his reaction to other people. Oddly enough, he had yet to give much thought to how he felt about Uraraka. He knew her to be energetic and adorable and someone he could trust. However, after witnessing the fervor in Bakugou's eyes, he couldn't say his admiration could ever compare.

Uraraka and Iida were both his precious friends, too. He wouldn't want to jeopardize their dynamics for curiosity's sake. Or, was this more than just a simple curiosity?

Still smiling, Asui said, "You're already over thinking it, ribbit."

"Ah!" exclaimed Midoriya. "Sorry, I was just thinking about how Kacchan might feel about her."

"But, I asked how you feel about her."

Asui wasn't the first person that day to ask about his feelings for Uraraka. Iida implied that the romantic feelings might already be there. He got stuck in his train of thought yet again and put his fingers to his chin. "Uh," stammered Midoriya, "she's really fun to be around. I feel light-hearted whenever I'm with her, and she's always been there for me, too. I don't know what I'd do without her."

The fact of the matter was - Asui herself was not experienced enough with relationships to understand what it meant to have romantic feelings for someone. People of their class said that Midoriya and Uraraka loved each other, but if she were honest, she thought that was what they wanted to see as opposed to the truth.

Then, she had already heard the rumors that Uraraka had feelings for him. For her sake, she hoped that Midoriya reciprocated those feelings.

"If the feelings you have for her are unique, then you should tell her how you feel, ribbit," added Asui as she assumed that Uraraka would be satisfied with any level of adulation from Midoriya.

Midoriya scratched the back of his head and nervously chuckled, "Really? Well, I don't want to say the wrong thing. I guess I need to figure out how I feel about her first, then, right?" He saw all his friendships as unique. In general, he had a lot of difficulties talking to girls. However, sometimes he could easily share his feelings and thoughts with Uraraka. He had gotten accustomed to being with her. She had cut through his boundaries like butter with her bright smile and attitude.

However, that night, Asui did the same - only she armed herself with a blunt attitude and fixed curved mouth.

They talked for at least an hour. Midoriya's stammering and occasional stutters became less frequent as time passed. For the most part, they discussed the past events of class and exams. Maybe they mentioned stories about their past and future goals. Then by habit, perhaps, his mind jumped back to Bakugou's exhilarated smile after he found out Uraraka was his partner. "Do you believe in things like fate?"

"Sometimes we see the right things at the right time, and from there, we should follow our guts."

That idea would not leave his head for the next few days.

Midoriya excused himself, "Oh, I just remembered - I was supposed to meet someone somewhere! We'll talk later." He neglected to tell Asui that he planned to meet Uraraka. Perhaps, he did this to prevent her from over analyzing his relationship with his friend before he did. 

A few days after they met Kotone, Bakugou visited the gymnasium for a late afternoon workout before dinner. Uraraka was the only other person in the room when he entered. She listened to some pop song through her headphones as she continued her endurance run on a treadmill in the corner, so she probably didn't sense him enter. Although he had no reason to interact with her, he smirked at this chance encounter.

On most days and with most people, he would have completely ignored them and began his workout regimen. How could he? Her sweat upon her glistening skin caused a glare in the corner of his eye and distracted him. His big mouth allowed whatever surfaced to escape. "Where's your nerd?" he asked. His question had fallen upon deaf ears.

To selfishly pull her attention from her goal would have been sinful, but Bakugou specialized in sin. He approached her bubble, and when he neared the machine from the front, he suddenly halted to observe the intensity of her brow as she stared at the mirrored wall in front of her.

Bakugou jumped.

Fearless ferocity radiated from Uraraka's brown stare as the speed on the treadmill gradually increased by the second. For the first time in regards to anyone outside of battle, he thought - what is this person thinking? Was she running away? No, she chased something that wasn't physically there, but the way her fixated eyes stayed in place, her goal certainly lied on the horizon.

Then, she gasped when she noticed someone in the room. Her train of thought broken, she fell backward onto the floor. Unfortunately, Midoriya was not the guest that had appeared next to her. Regardless she smiled and carefully rubbed her sore bottom. Shame on her for letting her guard down to that level. "Oh, hey, Bakugou," greeted the girl as she got to her feet and dusted herself. Noticing his equally black and tanky tank top, she exclaimed, "We're wearing the same sweats! I guess we're fashion buddies."

Flowers had spouted in mid air around her face before Bakugou barked, "Fuck that! Black is my color. Start wearing something else."

"But, our costume designer is this same person, too, so you're gonna be trapped as my fashion buddy for a while."

Bakugou's eyebrow twitched in response, for he had no words to spit back at her.

Checking her phone, she realized just how much time had passed. She'd been training for nearly an hour! Midoriya said he'd be there around that time. However, maybe his absence benefited her, for she had a productive workout thus far. Again, she had to remind herself not to let Midoriya distract her from her goal. Instead, she wanted to only allow him into her thoughts when he motivated her.

Wait, was Bakugou ranting about something, or was he completely silent? She turned off the music to from her phone and beamed up at her project partner.

He wanted her to cut that smiling shit out, but he knew there was nothing he could do to stop her. "If you're going to be this fucking needy, then I might as well stick around. You can't talk about Deku, though," he complained as he jumped onto the only treadmill next to hers.

How did she seem needy? She glanced at the mirror behind her and blinked. In fact, she would have left if Bakugou hadn't shown up. Maybe she could get to know him a little better.

Taking a seat at a weight machine, Uraraka pulled down the lever and started reps to lift about 20 kilograms. "You're really strong and combative, you know," she began with a compliment as her fascinated gaze wandered to his sizable triceps and biceps. He would totally beat her in an arm wrestling contest. Most of her male friends could probably obliterate her based on their comparative muscle mass alone. That's puberty, though.

Every other aspect of her fighting style needed to be perfect if she wanted to climb the ladder to success and financial security.

She sighed and continued with a small frown, "Hand-to-hand combat and raw strength are still some of my weak points, but I think I'm gettin' a little better. I have a long way to go, though. If I ever want to be taken seriously as a pro, then I gotta try a lot harder."

"You're still lifting 20 kilograms?" Bakugou genuinely asked an easily condescending question in a flat tone. To increase the intensity of his workout, he bumped up the speed past his typical starting number.

He had been staring at her since he entered the room. When she had moved behind him, he watched her reflection gracefully leaned forward to lift the weights behind her. Her breathing - frequent yet controlled - pushed her chest out and retracted it as she spoke. Iridescent sweat still painted her pale skin and caught the fluorescent lighting in the room. Carelessly, he had voiced an observation.

"Oh," Uraraka laughed with a flustered blush on her cheeks and adjusted the weight to double it. "I guess I'm kinda tired now. I can do a lot more than this - especially if I lift stuff with my quirk. Let's do our best, Bakugou!" They could work well together.

She felt like she could handle the weight she added despite her fatigue.

This light-hearted, casual atmosphere unsettled Bakugou. He wanted to avoid feeling helpless like he did on that train a few days ago. If Bakugou allowed this to continue, he would say words that he never thought he would say to anyone. "If you want to learn how to be anywhere close to my level, then you should train with me."

Uraraka gasped then nodded, "Really? Sure!"

Wait, he said that out loud? Turning around, Bakugou snarled and widened his bloodshot eyes. He spat, "Shut up!"

"Bakugou," she whined at his dogged rejection.

The door slowly opened, and Midoriya stepped into the room. He apologized, "Sorry, Uraraka. I stopped to talk to Asui about our project on the way here."

Uraraka's heart leaped as she smiled and shook her head. "It's okay. I haven't been here for that long," she lied. Why did she say that?

If Bakugou hadn't have said something stupid moments before Midoriya walked into the gym, he would have probably begun some kind of confrontation. However, embarrassed by his own words, he stopped the treadmill and stormed out of the room with an empty feeling of loss. He saw the opportunity to flee as the only way to save face.

Uraraka noticed how Bakugou didn't say anything to her on the train the next day. By looking at his resting frown, she couldn't decipher if he was upset after her eagerness to spar with him or because Midoriya entered. Did she say the wrong thing? She wanted to get along with him.

This train trip, she decided to face him if she thought of something to discuss. Maybe she could talk about Kirishima or school or fighting. Then, maybe one day, she could bridge the gap between him and Midoriya. Maybe their project inspired hope in her that he had a soft interior beneath his volatile personality. That possibility intrigued her as she looked up at his permanent glower. Was he lonely?

She certainly didn't want to go as far as to project emotions with that level of depth onto him. After all, he was definitely mean and belligerent for most of his interactions. However, the wall that he had around him was as vicious as an injured animal's hiss. Facetiously and persistently, she wanted to prod against it until something interesting happened.

The marriage proposal could have been him trying to avoid eternal damnation under the guise of an advantageous legal agreement. As soon the thought entered Uraraka's mind, she had to at least ask, "Why," she began but could not finish.

The sudden squeak of a noise snapped Bakugou's attention towards Uraraka. He instantly sensed the terror that piqued in her lustrous eyes. From their proximity, he could hear her tremble as she slowly lowered her head to stare at the ground. Time stopped as he analyzed the situation between his tumultuous heart beat. For a fraction of a second, her soft whimper reached his ears. That was fear, but if she didn't fear him, then who?

Over her shoulder, he spotted an arm angled in a way that ended near the rear of her skirt and began at the shoulder of some indiscriminate salary man. His appearance didn't matter, for, within moments, he would be dead. Bakugou slowly reached for the balding man's preoccupied face. Up until that day, he had never killed a man, but he swore that the forces of the heavens could not hold him back.

Then, Bakugou noticed Uraraka's eyes sharpen with an acerbic intensity that sliced through his plan.

"That's disgusting," she casually complained without a hint of fear in her voice. "It'd be bad if you touched a defenseless girl like that! Luckily, I'm not defenseless." Grabbing his arm, she turned around and forced his wrists together. Of course, she could overpower him.

Suddenly, Bakugou dug his free hand back into his pocket.

"Could you call the cops while I have him?" requested Uraraka.

Bakugou growled, "Call the cops? I'll just blast him." How could she not feel the same rage that he did?

"You can't do that on a train! We don't even have a license."

Who gave a shit about licenses at a time like that? He wanted revenge.

They could have gone back and forth all day over how to handle the situation with their respective styles of justice, but fortunately, a security guard escorted the offender off the train at the next stop. He thanked her for handling the situation professionally and properly before he left.

As soon as the culprit departed, Bakugou wanted to continue their argument. That was until he noticed Uraraka's reddened pout as he radiant tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She still trembled. She almost whimpered. She was still stunned. While he would have criticized her further, he didn't want her to think that he had invested in the emotions of the incident.

Instead, he could only ground his teeth in silence as he cursed the missed opportunity under his fiery breath. "Shit," he scolded. Was she stupid? He would have handled him and then she wouldn't be crying over that asshole. That fierce look in her eyes must have been empty.

No, that wasn't false bravery. Bakugou couldn't revoke her courage. She managed to apprehend her offender after all that. Adeptly and successfully, she had saved herself and left Bakugou forever thirsting for vengeance.

His hand twitched.

Without a doubt, if anyone put their lecherous hands on her again, no one would be able to hold him back from blowing their head clean off of their bodies.

After a quiet evening of homework and video games with Kotone, Bakugou noticed Uraraka's spirit bounce back like a spring. The stress in her reddened face had long since faded and a bright smile replaced any lingering distress.

On the train that night, as they went through a tunnel, she hopped over to Bakugou's side and sat centimeters away from him.

Simple and addictive like bubble wrap, she enjoyed pressing Bakugou's numerous buttons. Since he had yet to kill her, maybe that meant she could continue.

Recalling Bakugou's wild, red eyes from earlier that day, Uraraka wondered if he wanted to save her. While she initially failed to believe her vision, she brushed away her denial and began to realize that he wanted to kill that man. There was more in his eyes - fear, possibly. Open, dilated eyes of terror behind his glare. Albeit faint, she noticed the notion as soon as she glanced at the assailant.

"No, you, get the fuck back to the other side," Bakugou scolded as he pointed to the place she had originally sat.

Instead of obeying him, she only giggled - genuinely and playfully, "Oh, Bakugou."

How sick. Bakugou wondered if this buddy-buddy stuff was a game for Uraraka. She must have known how effortlessly she could knock him off balance and disrupt his tightly-wound world like her personal lot of firecrackers.

He jumped up and walked over to the other side instead of waiting for her to do so. This coy, cutesy act annoyed him. He wanted her to be angry or afraid of him. In an attempt to look away, he turned to stare out the windows of the train. "You're annoying," he lamented aloud as he narrowed his eyes. Before a few weeks ago, they hadn't interacted, and suddenly, she talked to him like they had been friends for the past year.

Sticking her tongue out, she nodded, "I don't get you, either, but that's okay. I can try." Pressing the back of her finger to her chin, she pondered his personality. "Hmm, you're pretty heroic, Bakugou. You're kinda a rough and tough guy. And, even though you're violent, you wanna use your powers for good. We might have different outlooks, but I hope we can be friends."

She believed that. Maybe part of her wanted to show off her strength. If she had been with Midoriya, would she have been as strong? Or would she have relied on him to save her?

"Another one of those stupid analyses?" thought Bakugou. He resented her attempt to placate and read him. "Friends? I already told you that we're going to get married," he groaned.

In that peaceable moment, he just impulsively cut through the calm atmosphere with his selfish intentions. Uraraka frowned and mumbled, "Bakugou." Right, his pride in becoming her partner and the fact that he paid her any attention at all was so that his future children could inherit both of their abilities.

"What? Did you forget? Did you think we were on a fucking date or something?" he snarled as he spoke. "The only reason I gave a shit about that pervert was so that he and everybody else knows that nobody touches what's mine." When he glanced back over at her, he expected tears or distress and hopefully a glimmer of panic in her wavering demeanor. In fact, he would have preferred fear or tears over the placid and intrigued smile that caught his eye.

Maybe her exhaustion muddled her judgment, or maybe she was too much of an optimist, but Uraraka suddenly didn't buy the tough guy act anymore. Besides, his words couldn't affect her too much when her heart belonged to Midoriya. "Yeah, okay, Bakugou," she yawned and stretched. Rule number one in Bakugology: disregard his claims of detachment or anything he says for that matter.

When she fell asleep, Bakugou was at a loss for the second time that day. For a time, he watched her softly inhale and exhale. Her mesmerizing rhythm hypnotized him into a drowsy state.

He could imagine himself approaching her and caressing the perfect, round edge of her cherubic cheeks. He contemplated whether or not she would feel as soft as she appeared. Mochi cheeks. The sweet aroma of her hair would probably complement its silky texture. Her soft snores caused the corners of his mouth to twitch, and once he realized the sensation, he averted his stare elsewhere.

The doors opened at their stop, and he got to his feet and back to reality. Easily, he could have and probably should have left her on the train by herself for facetiously snickering and smirking at him for most of that day. She deserved it.

But no, her parted lips and sprawled body gave off a vulnerability - the same vision that plagued him - that would attract others to attack her. Or worse. He kicked the seat beneath her and cursed, "Oi! Get the hell up before I murder you."

She wiped her eyes and looked up at Bakugou, "Okay. Wait for me, will ya'?"

"No." He walked towards the automatic doors with his backpack in his hands.

Uraraka whined, "Bakugou!" She hurriedly grabbed her belongings and ran out the doors after him. He woke her up so that she wouldn't be alone, didn't he?