#man is that because a certain crimson haired asshole walked into your life and helped you get your act together?

[riftdancing]

I sat with my anger long enough...

until it told me its real name was grief.

I'm not a whole person...

and I don't think I ever will be.

Parts of me died in the house I grew up in...

and I visit them in my dreams.

When you aren't fed love on a silver spoon...

you learn to lick it off knives.

[marchioness-caprina]

You Changed But Still the Same

Pairings : Ex! Katsuki Bakugou x Ex! Reader.

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warning : Cussing

Word Count : 3428

3rd Person's POV

A Year ago since that fateful day where everything ended and the only thing that's left were the memories and promises from the past. Y/n and Bakugou who were High school sweethearts had quite a past together but sometimes all the good things come to an end .

That's exactly what happened, Bakugou at some point in his life had to pick between two things , y/n or his Hero Career. He picked His Hero Career even though y/nl tried to desperately persuade him that it could work out. She tried her best to persuade Katsuki that They can grow Together.

Even though it was painful, Katsuki still stuck to his choice leaving everything behind . Leaving y/n with her heart that has been shattered, Leaving her to pick up all the broken pieces herself.

He had to pick his Hero career because he knew he needed to become stronger, strong enough to Be confident that He will be able to protect her in the future. Strong enough to flaunt her to the world without worrying how many villains would be after his lover. As surprising as it may seem his reason why he picked his career over her was because of her, not because he wanted to be number one... He'll admit that, it was his former goal but after meeting her everything changed.

He actually wanted to become a better version of himself because no matter how good he is, theres still a nagging feeling at the back of his head that says he does not deserve her because she deserves so much more.

Today was a special Day because Class 1-A was holding a reunion party. And Katsuki normally turns down events like this bit this time , he was excited because he knew y/n would be there. Now he was ready, Now he was confident, Now all he needed to do was to get his Girl back.

Y/n, She was never the same after that dreadful day. She never knew why she was Never Enough for Katsuki... She doesn't know why she's not a good enough reason to be picked. She never knew why He had to leave her in the dust, Hurt and alone. And honestly no matter how hard she tried to forget him. It never worked, She was still hung up on him like before and because of that. She hated him so much.

She started overworking herself doing more hero work than necessary since it's the only thing that could keep her mind away from him.

Her smile faded and she was never the same, she moved to another city because being in the same city where there's a possibility for her and Katsuki to work together is too painful for her.

She managed to rise to the hero rankings in the city she moved in. She was well known and villains feared her. But she started distancing herself from others, always taking on solo jobs and gradually turning colder by time.

It took a lot of persuading from the girls for her to eventually agree to this little reunion and she wasn't looking forward to it.

Because he was going to be there, it was already 6 and she was late since the agreed time to meet was 5 sharp bit she got caught up fighting Villains on her way . Of course the girls were furious but after hearing her reason they were much more understanding than expected.

They were supposed to meet in a Restaurant the boys booked all for their class and of course wearing something fancy was required because according to Momo they should ' Dress for the Occasion ' .

So of course y/n did try to make an effort to dress up because She wanted to prove to everyone that she was fine without Katsuki. Because back then when they broke up, Everything fell apart and she stopped caring about everything around her.

She loves the girls because they almost Wrestled Katsuki for hurting her , and some of the Boys even attempted to fight him because Y/n was a wreck back then.

But now look at her. She's not a narcissistic bitch but she really outdid herself. She wore a red sleeveless fishtail dress that clung onto her curves like it was her own skin, the dress had little crystal details that matched her hair. Her make up was Smoky and elegant and her lips were a crimson color of red. Her hair was curled on the ends and she did end up dyeing her hair to H/c, she also had a few accessories on, like the emerald necklace, a few bracelets she randomly picked out and a small Phoenix Hair clip.

She looked gorgeous and she could tell from the way passersby looked at her when she got out of her car right infront of the restaurant.

She walked towards the receptionist who was oogling on her figure.

Clearing her throat she caught the attention of the receptionist.

" I'm here for Denki Kaminari's Party " Y/n stated and the receptionist immediately stumbled towards the door opening it for her.

" This way ma'am "

" Thank you " Y/n thanked the man who started nodding his head nervously and she made her way inside.

The whole place was noisy and she could see her old classmates chatting and drinking the night away.

The first one to notice her was Momo.

" Oh my God Y/n!? Is that you " Momo exclaimed running towards y/n and giving the girl a tight hug.

The whole room was quiet, everyone's attention was directed towards y/n. She really was a head turner. The states she was getting was a bit overwhelming but she didn't mind. Someone in the room did Though.

" Woah! You really did dress to impress Missy! Where the hell have you been? " Mina joined in and y/n didn't hesitate to hug her as well.

" You're Drop Dead Gorgeous! We didn't even recognize you... I mean... Look at You! Damn " Hagakure complimented slapping y/n's ass.

" Hey keep your hands to yourself " Y/n muttered as she shoved Hagakure playfully.

" My goodness! I can't believe my eyes, Don't tell me you don't have a boyfriend!? It's kinda impossible for you Not to if you Look that Hot " Uraraka joined their little group and soon the boys also gathered around her to Either greet and hug her or comment on how she looks.

The attention she's getting was flattering but a bit suffocating.

" Ok, enough about me. How are you guys? " Y/n tried changing the subject but none of them were up for it.

" Well Duh, we all work in the same city and some of us gets paired up from Time to Time so there's nothing new about us that we didn't Know. You on the other hand moved to another fucking City and we barely have any contact with you so don't change the subject " Jiro stated and everyone seemed to fire their questions towards me one by one.

" So how are you? Are things good over there? I heard you ranked 2 in your city"

" Yeah everything is alright , things are pretty stressful though "

" You're pretty popular there! I see you on the news all the time "

" Er... Well... I can't even get some alone time without people trying to shove themselves to me "

As y/n was bombarded with questions a certain blonde male kept his gaze glued to her figure, she was gorgeous that's for sure and he could barely keep his eyes off her figure but that doesn't mean everyone else had to do that.

Even if they aren't together anymore. She is still considered to be his property and it's pissing him off that she didn't even try to acknowledge his existence. It was spissing him so much that she gave everyone a hug and not him. Why is she so happy talking to other men when he's right here waiting for her to finally look at him.

It's fucking irritating . She was beautiful... Too beautiful that he feels like someone else would take her if he even dares to look away.

It was painful to see how much she had grown without him. He's starting to regret his decision. Damn it. He knew he missed her but fuck. He didn't know he missed her to the point where it's actually painful to see her here but ignore him like he's nothing.

His mood was foul and everyone noticed, sure they were pissed that Bakugou Had the face to hurt y/n but they saw how hurt he was too, and one time during a small get together Bakugou started screaming her name and yelling why he left while sobbing angrily like a sick lunatic. And they finally understood why he made such a rash decision. It was because of his insecurities and nobody thought that this Haughty Hero was actually insecure about something.

And everyone felt bad for him because after y/n left he was a reckless Asshole who kept getting himself hurt over and over again as if he's pushing himself to the brink of death on purpose. Everyone knew he regretted his past actions and that's exactly why they were gonna help these two love sick puppies out.

" Hey! Let's play Seven Minutes in Heaven! " Denki suggested and everyone got the message.

" Really? Denki why would we play that here?" Y/n laughed but to her surprise everyone was in on it too.

" Yeah sounds fun! "

" I'll get the bottle! "

" Who's going first? "

____________________

Everyone was seated on the floor forming a circle.

" Ok I'll spin the bottle and if the bottle lands on you, you have to go in the closet with the person the end of the bottle is pointing towards. Simple as that " Kirishima explained and he started spinning the bottle.

" Hey y/n have you heard about the latest trend lately? " Momo asked y/n who's eyes we're torn away from the bottle and her attention was snapped towards Momo.

Sero moved fast and immediately pointed the bottle at y/n and Bakugou.

Bakugou saw the whole thing and he stared at his friends in disbelief.

" Kaachan.... I think you deserve a second chance " Izuku muttered and everyone gave Bakugou a thumbs up or a supporting look.

Bakugou was touched as he stared at everyone with thankful eyes but he was a prideful asshole so he turned his head away muttering.

" I don't need your help shitty extras " His comment made everyone chuckle.

" You better not ruin this Bakugou or else I'll poke your eyes out " Jiro threatened before she turned to y/n

" Y/n! You're going in the Closet with Bakugou! "

Y/n froze at the mention of Bakugou's name her eyes trailing down to ten bottle that was pointing at her and Katsuki.

" What? No" Y/n grumbled her tone filled with venom. Bakugou noticed her tone and it almost made him flinch.

" It's only seven minutes y/n...dont tell me you still love him that's why you refuse to do so " Denki stated slyly earning a menacing glare from the girl that made him shiver.

" I'll fucking do it and you better watch me you Prick " Y/n stood up from her place stomping her way towards the closet, opening it as she pointed inside her gaze landing on Bakugou.

" Get in so we could get this over with " She hissed before stomping inside Bakugou who was a bit astonished by how fierce she had become. But nonetheless he followed her inside the closet closing it as he stepped inside.

It was quiet, far too quiet but he was determined to change that.

" Y/n...I-"

" Shut up" Y/n cut him off sharply and he can't believe he was this sensitive when it came to her because damn it hurt when she said it like that.

" I'm sorry... I know it's not gonna fucking Cut all the shit I put you-"

" You fucking bastard I said shut up " Y/n growled but Bakugou continued.

" I was the biggest idiot in the world --"

" Bakugou. Fuck off. "

" Please just lis--"

" Did you listen to me?! Did you listen to me when I begged you to not end things between us? Did you know how much pain I felt losing you? Because you didn't have the fucking balls to choose me? Do you know how worthless I felt? I felt like I wasn't a good enough reason for you to choose me. I felt like I wasn't enough, because you never looked back on your decision and just kept going leaving me behind ... To pick myself up and pretend like nothing happened. Stop this Bullshit Katsuki, Let's just pretend like we're strangers causing its better that way---" Y/n was cut off with Katsuki's harsh tone.

" Don't you dare Fucking Go there woman! I'm a poor excuse of a boyfriend I know! And I regret the day I made the decision in leaving you because everyday is like walking in an eternity of hell without you.. I missed you so damn much... I missed your laugh... Your smug smile... Everything... I missed you! You wanna know why I ended things? It was because I felt weak, I felt like you deserve better so don't you dare say that you're not enough! Because you're more than enough! I was scared that villains may come after me and they'll take you because I wasn't strong enough! That's why I dedicated my time in trying to be better because the day I'll be ready is the day I'll claim you back . Today is the day.... And you have no idea how painful every passing day is for me without you.... And you turned me into this pathetic shitty love struck idiot who becomes soft and mushy when you're around!... I'm pouring out my feelings here because this may be the last! And I'm not good at this shit you dumbass! You knew that from the start but... I'm begging you Please... Give me another chance Because I Fucking Love you" Bakugou's voice broke at the end of his sentence and y/n was conflicted.

Was this why he left? It still doesn't count for what he did! He hurt her yet why does she feel so happy to hear him say that? Why is her heart beating so fast when he said those three words she never knew she craved. Why is her mind and heart urging her to give him another chance? Simple she knew the answer and it was because she never stopped loving him at all. Even though she hated him, she still loved him the same.

The room was filled with silence and y/n couldn't mutter another word. She wanted to say Yes. But her pride was getting in the way.

Bakugou was losing his patience, growling in frustration he lunged himself at her pinning her to the wall with both of her hands pinned above her head by Katsuki's hand.

" Screw it Bitch, I miss you too much to Just Let this shit slide. If you Kiss back you're Fucking Mine Again you Hear me!? " Bakugou yelled and he didn't give y/n any time to protest because his lips were already on hers.

Kissing her lips with Vigor and Neediness. It almost seemed desperate , he continued Kissing the girl with everything he had, devouring her lips with his and it didn't take long for y/n's pride to hold out because but broke the second Katsuki's Lips touched hers.

She kissed back with the same intensity. Katsuki let go of her hands and her hands immediately flew up to his neck pulling him closer as her fingers ran through his hair, she dug her fingers through his hair tugging on it desperately . Katsuki's hands were roaming her body in any way they could until finally stopping on her waist.

Fuck he missed her so much, he missed her so Fucking much and right now. He's gonna savor every moment of this. He missed these lips and how she kissed him.

If Oxygen wasn't much of a problem then neither of them would have pulled back.

Panting and breathless Katsuki pressed his forehead along hers a deep chuckle vibrating from his chest.

" So.... Was that a Yes? " Y/n could her the smugness of his voice making her growl at him.

" I Fucking kissed you back didn't I? " She snapped rolling her eyes.

" Well... I didn't quite feel it... Oh well, Looks like we're gonna have to do it again " Katsuki smirked and he was about to dive in for another round but Kaminari had slammed the door open making the two flinch.

" Times up---oh" Kaminari grinned as Katsuki and Y/n glared daggers at him.

" You shitty Pikachu! Can't you see we're busy here!? " Katsuki roared as he tried grabbing Denki who immediately ran away form the door.

With a sigh y/n dragged Katsuki out of the closet and everyone was looking at them with playful eyes, some even giving Katsuki a suggestive wink.

Y/n's eyes trailed up to Katsuki's face and she paled almost immediately seeing the red lipstick smudge on his lips.

" Katsuki you Fucking asshole! You smudged my lipstick! " Y/n barked smacking Katsuki's head and Katsuki was fats to react.

" Haah!? I didn't hear you complaining when I was sucking your lips woman! " Katsuki barked back.

" How the fuck was I supposed to complain when you were practically shoving your lips towards mine!? " Y/n said in defense as she raised her hand about to smack Katsuki's head again but he caught her hand .

Katsuki bent down and slung y/n over his shoulder carrying the angry girl.

" Shut up woman, I'll buy you a whole mall of lipstick if it makes you feel any better, and you extras!... Well... I'm only gonna say this once... T-Thank you " Katsuki muttered and everyone cheered and teased the blonde boy who was now cussing everyone for laughing at him.

" Put me down! " Y/n yelled pinching Katsuki's back but it had no effect because the boy didn't even flinch.

" We're heading out early! " Katsuki yelled but the entrance was blocked by the girls.

" Umm, No! We were the ones who put in a lot of effort in bringing her here Bakugou! You can't just take her away! And everyone missed her you asshole! " Jiro growled and Katsuki was immediately pissed off.

" She's Mine! Of course I can take her away! " Katsuki barked glaring daggers at the girls.

" Well looks like we're gonna have to fight in order to see who's keeping her then " Momo stated as she pulled out a staff from her arm.

Y/n was snatched away from Katsuki's shoulder by none other than Izuku who had a smirk on his face.

" Sorry Kaachan but we wanna hang out with her too" Izuku smiled and it only angered the blonde even more.

" You Fucking Extras! Give her back! "

" Why don't you guys just calm down and let me Go Home! " Y/n yelled throwing her arms up helplessly.

" No! " Everyone responded almost immediately.

" I believe we can't do that y/n because Tonight you're the prize for whoever gets to take you out of the door first! " Kids yelled and everyone was excited except for y/n who knew this wasn't gonna end well and she knows for a fact that this restaurant will become nothing but a pile of debris and rocks once everything is over.

" Oh it's on! " Uraraka jumped in excitement.

" I'll Fucking kill all of you Extras and Take back what's mine! " Katsuki yelled angrily sparks coming out of his hands.

And Y/n was right, by the end of the day the whole restaurant was destroyed, everyone was injured the moment yeh fight ensued and nobody won because y/n stepped out of the restaurant herself.

[jae-daddy]

magic (5)

Draco Malfoy Fanfic

one / two / three / four / six

pairing: draco malfoy x reader genre: shifting realities, romance, clownshit plot: you were trying to shift for the lols but end up in harry potter world for reals with draco malfoy as your companion a/n: hope y’all like it, not edited <3

Your eyes narrowed as he walked into the small room with a cocky smirk on his face.

“What are you doing here?” You sneered at him with distaste.

Draco didn’t seem offended, instead, he found it rather amusing. He shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly as he walked around your room taking in the piles of paper scattered across the floor.

“I see you’ve been busy,” he rose his eyebrows with mocking impress at the mess.

When you didn’t reply, he looked away from the papers and over to you settled on the bed. You glared at him, feeling yourself get hotter as every second passed by.

“Don’t you have elsewhere to be?” You gritted, you couldn’t believe Malfoy would do this to you.

It had been a whole week since you had seen him. You were all alone in this stupid magic inn in the middle of nowhere.

You had been too terrified to go outside of the room or to even open the windows or curtains. You sat under the dim golden hue from the lanterns hanging above, day after day. Your eyes would stare at the door, half-frightened that someone will walk in, and the other half bleeding with the hope that Draco would waltz in any second.

But now that he was here, all you wanted to do was to kick him.

“Oh, come on,” Draco cooed looking pleased with your distressed state. “You miss me so terribly much, muggle?”

Your eyes burned with fury as you stared at him. 

He had no idea what it was like being here for a whole entire week. Whatever magic the room had would make food and water appear, and clean the room, but leave the papers spread where you had left them. 

When Draco brought you here after the game and told you to wait for him until he returned, you thought it’d be a few minutes, a few hours at most. But here he stood now, after a whole week in a black suit tailored perfectly to his lean body, his soft hair pushed back, and lips stained pink stark against his pale skin.

“You’re an asshole,” you finally spat at him, venom coating your tongue.

Draco didn’t recognise the threat or anger in your voice. Even if he did, he didn’t think much of it. He threw his head back letting out a chesty laugh, before smiling at you softly.

His piercing eyes softened a bit, and you felt tears threaten you.

There was no threat to your life, there was no danger. There was nothing. But you felt so weak, you were sure you would crumble as soon as Draco did the smallest action to check if you were okay.

But, Draco wasn’t known to be thoughtful. He looked away from you and slightly twisted in his spot.

“Care to explain what all this is?” He gestured to the endless lots of paper filled with your writing.

After that night at the camp, you had made a decision.

You hadn't wanted to hear the numbers of casualties from the other night. But without Draco, without any distraction, you couldn’t help but reach for the newspaper that appeared every morning. There were no casualties, no one died, a few injuries but nothing major.

As much as that relieved you, you knew this wasn’t the end. If anything this was the start.

This was the beginning of a painful and horrible journey, but you could help make it better.

You clicked your fingers and instantly the papers disappeared.

Draco lifted an eyebrow, amused, “Learn magic, did you muggle?”

Draco was letting go, letting you hide whatever you were planning on doing for a bit longer. You silently thanked him because you really didn’t have a solid plan, except for a definitive goal of avoiding all the death and unhappiness looming in the future.

“I know how to read manuals, Malfoy,” you rolled your eyes getting up from the bed. The layers of the blanket over you bunching at the bottom of the bed as you got up and walked towards the boy who stared at you intently.

“Where were you?” You asked, lifting your head to meet his stare. His piercing eyes studied you unblinkingly before he smiled gingerly, as he took a step back.

“Malfoy Mansion,” was all he said.

You let out a breathe, holding his eyes while you calmed down, as you gave him a bored smile.

“So what now?” You tsked, as you pulled your hair into a bun. “Are you going back after checking to see if I’m dead or not?”

Draco stared at you for a long moment, before snorting lightly.

“Actually,” he smiled, looking almost innocent. “I came to get you.”

You frowned, doubtful.

“It’s back to school season,” Draco’s grin widened. “Time to go back to Hogwarts.”

______________

“How much longer do I have to take in that sour face of yours?” Draco scoffed as he settled in front of you.

You decided to ignore him and look out the window instead. The platform was filled with young wizards and their parents buzzing around the train. You could easily tell the first years apart, if not by their young age, then their uneasiness was an easy tip-off.

“Merlin’s sake, muggle,” Draco sighed tiredly. “Are you going to act like this till eternity?”

You scowled at him now.

“Draco, you came back after a whole week. You literally disappeared.”

“But I came back,” he fussed. His face softened into one of a defeat for a second before darkening in a sneer. “You should be grateful that I even to came back. It would have been much easier to leave you there.”

“Why didn’t you then?” You bit back, making him roll his eyes.

“Your invisibility might actually prove to be useful for me,” Draco shrugged not looking at you, after a long minute.

You studied him for a moment, before snorting, “Stupid Malfoy.”

“Whatever, muggle.”

Draco pulled out a book reading it as you sat there watching the seats fill up. You read the title and frowned.

It was another book about consciousness and projection. You didn’t think much of it, Draco did end up being a master of alchemy after the war in the books. He obviously had an interest in certain areas of magic, and probably wanted to know all about this topic.

You didn’t realise you were staring at Draco until his icy eyes glanced up. His lips twisted into a smirk when he caught you, “Don’t get too curious, muggle.”

You snorted at him in reply.

“I think it would be better if you sat next to me,” Draco said, as his eyes drifted to the door. You followed his gaze to see Pansy and Blaise walk in, smiling as they spot him.

You stood at the end of the table just as Pansy and Blaise settled in front of Draco. They greeted him happily before Pansy shoved Blaise against the wall telling him to move over a bit.

Blaise retorted something and they fell into a jeering argument.

You stared at Draco and then at the empty seat on the other side of him. He rose his eyebrows at you, telling you to act.

You shuffled closer, studying the small distance between Draco and the edge of the table. Maybe you could risk climbing over the table?

But with a subtle pull of your jacket, Draco wordlessly ordered you to go past you him, hastily.

You gulped nervously as you placed a hand on the seat just above Draco’s shoulder, moving closer to him.

“So, Draco,” Pansy said, holding his attention. You silently thanked your stars for Pansy being a chatterbox as she began telling him about something that happened over the break.

Your hair slightly brushed Draco’s shoulder as you placed a knee on the seat to balance yourself.

Blaise and Pansy fell into another round of bickering, as you placed your other hand on the other side of Draco to stabilise yourself. Your hands landed on his shoulder instead of the seat behind him, but you didn’t move it.

Draco stared at you intently, you as you lifted knee and brought it over to the other side of him.

Your cheeks burned, as you gulped nervously.

You were straddling him right now. Your thighs burned as you held yourself up, trying not to sit on his lap. Your thighs grazing his lap ever so slightly.

Your stomach flipped, as your core tightened as lustful images flashed through your mind. It didn’t do anything to soothe the burning crimson brightening upon your face.

Draco’s piercing cold eyes stared into yours with an intensity you didn’t want to register. Your heart raced against your chest, as Draco’s scent invaded your mind.

He smelled so good; it reminded you of rain on a hot summer day and something else that you couldn’t put your finger on. Still, it was wonderfully dizzying.

You removed your hands from the seat behind him as you began shifting over to your seat.

Just as you removed your hand, the train jerked into movement. You fell forward, your hands landing on Draco’s chest. Your body straddling him, your thighs on his lap, your chest crushed into his. His warm minty breath softly falling your lips.

His hands, instinctively holding onto your waist to keep you from falling over, burned through your shirt.

Your body was on fire. Your mind burning with images of crashing your lips into his.

God, he was so absolutely gorgeous.

His blue eyes slowly drifted to your lips and you were a whisper away from exploding.

“What are you doing?” Blaise asked, pulling you out of your hazy state of mind. Draco instantly threw you to the side, a loud thud resounding as you landed painfully in your seat.

You groaned as you glanced up and glared at a wide-eyed Draco.

His hands remained in the same position as they were placed on your waist, searing your skin through the flimsy shirt.

“This big,” Draco muttered his eyes examined the distance between in his palms in fake interest. “This big... would be a... very large... pumpkin... do you reckon?”

You snorted at Draco who blinked back into reality, putting his hands away and sitting straight.

“No way!” Blaise shook his head, almost calling Draco an idiot. “There are pumpkins bigger than this entire cart!”

“Right,” Draco nodded, his eyes still dazed as he tried to reel himself back. “I was talking about the muggle world.”

“Nah man,” the other boy innocently shook his head, “In images, I saw pumpkins the side of this entire booth.”

“Oh,” was all Draco said, nodding in false wonder.

Your eyes darted to Pansy who started at Draco sceptically.

But before she could say anything, Blaise started again, “I didn’t get a single moment of peace this break.”

He sighed peering between his two friends. The other two gave up whatever chilly tension had settled between them and focused on a dejected Blaise instead.

“Merlin’s mercy, Hogwarts never gives us a break,” Blaise breathed, exhausted. “I spent the last seven days locked up in my room trying to finish charms assignment.”

You felt Draco’s eyes shift towards you. You glowered at him, in return, almost bearing your teeth at him in defence. The corners of his lips lifted into an amused smirk, as he turned to his two friends as they continued talking.

“At least Blaise knew he could go out whenever he wanted to,” you muttered under your breath, focusing on Draco. You placed your elbow on the table as you rested your head on your palm. “I was stuck there not able to go out, or knowing if there was an end.”

Draco’s jaws twitched, but he didn’t show any other sign of your existence.

“Prick,” you muttered as you turned to look out the window. Hogwarts Express was now sprinting through the plains towards the castle. You felt butterflies stir in your tummy as you nervously looked at the scene.

You didn’t realise when, but you had fallen asleep.

You woke up to an empty carriage, except for the annoyed boy glaring at you.

“Get up, you ugly oaf,” Draco hissed, making you sit up as you sleepily rubbed your eyes.

“Oh my,” you yawned stretching as you got up. “I haven’t seen able to sleep properly in so long.”

Draco looked away from you, as red splayed across his neck.

You blinked at him, confused. Before you could ask him what happened, he was already walking out of the ghastly empty train.

_____________

Your gaze bounced from one thing to another as you followed Draco through the empty halls of Hogwarts. You had luckily arrived after the welcoming ceremony had ended, and everyone had returned to their common rooms to socialise. 

Your eyes couldn’t remain in one place for more than a second, taking in every little detail of Hogwarts. It was a beautiful work of art.

“Does Hogwarts not exist in the future?” Draco asked, studying you with an interest at your amazement.

Your feet halted for a second before you blinked back to your senses.

“Of course, it does,” you stammered, your cheeks burning. You didn’t look at Draco, focusing harder to look around the design on the walls.

You didn’t lie, technically. 

Technically, Hogwarts did exist, just not in its physical form.

“Are muggles able to go inside?” He arched a perfect eyebrow. You gawked at him.

“No,” you whispered, looking down.

“Well, at least they have some common sense about leaving the dirty muggles out,” he sneered, and you felt your heart sink.

This is who Draco was, a muggle-hating person who believed in purebloods and purity.

You stared at Draco as he marched on in front of you. His hands tucked into his pockets arrogantly. He looked more confident and comfortable here then he did at home.

“So what happens in the welcoming ceremony?” You quickly asked, trying to change the topic. 

“Nothing really,” Draco sighed, looking over his shoulder. “The Sorting Hat sorts the newcomers, and then Dumbledoor does the speech he does every single time.” 

“Sounds fun,” you muttered, sarcastically. 

“We didn’t miss much,” Draco answered as you stopped at the enterance of the Slytherin common room. “Emerald.”

You smiled at that, it wasn’t ‘pure-bood’ anymore.

You followed behind quietly, watching him as he walked through the maze of hallways of the dungeon. He stopped in front a door.

“The password is potty potter,” Draco told you over his shoulder.

You bit back a laugh at that. You couldn’t believe the password to Draco’s room was made solely to shit on Harry Potter.

“Come on,” he smirked, observing your humoured face.

You walked in and looked around in awe. It was much smaller than his room back at Malfoy Manor, and while the theme of dark green and black had carried over, this room was filled with warmth and memories.

You walked towards the wall filled with photos, posters and banners. His quidditch team photos, awards and academic achievements were there. But more than those were photos of places around Hogwarts. There were a few with people in them; mostly Blaise and Pansy. A few with Crabbe and Goyle, his mother,  but barely any of his father.

“Wow,” you whispered, before turning back to Draco. “I thought this would be an exact replica of your bedroom at the mansion.”

Draco shrugged, looking meek as he sat down at the edge of the bed.

You sat on the couch and Draco smiled, “At least you know where your bed is.”

“The couch?” You gaped at him, before pouting, “Can’t you magic one?”

“Snape will know,” he shrugged, looking smug.

“Risk it.”

“Risk you?” He quirked an eyebrow.

You shrugged, and he rolled his eyes.

“I can’t risk you,” Draco said making butterflies flutter in your tummy. But then his face twisted into a sneer as he continued, “You are my secret weapon.”

You huffed folding your arms, “Are you going to tell me your big plans?”

“Will you tell me yours in return?” He asked, knowingly.

“Jokes on you, I don’t have one,” you beamed, lying.

“Then what were all those papers?”

“I was trying to remember what happens next,” you told him honestly, at least in half-truth. “It did kind of work. I do have a better understanding of the timeline.”

Draco remained still for a long moment as he watched you.

“That night,” he finally said, his voice faint. “Those things that you saw before the fire started, were they from your memory?”

You nodded slowly, thinking of the scenes again. Draco blinked, his face hardening.

“How accurate are these memories?” He asked carefully.

Your brows furrowed as you stared at him in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“The fire, the flames, the Death Eaters,” Draco’s cold eyes stared into yours, not looking away. You felt your stomach sink at how serious he was being. “All of that was exactly as what took place.”

“Yeah, they were from my memories,” you answered, not sure what he was trying to do.

“Do you think they were accurate?”

“I don’t know, it is just my memory. I can't guarantee it a hundred per cent.”

Draco sat there for a long moment. His shoulders stiff, his mind lost in deep thought.

“I saw my father in them,” Draco spoke very deliberately, his jaw tightening. “Was that true?”

“I-” You stammered as your heart raced. You weren’t sure. “It’s just my memory, it could be wrong.”

“But you have seen him in a field of Death Eaters?” He asked, his voice cold, his eyes distant now. “It happens.”

Not a question, but you nod.

Draco sighed, his head hanging.

“Okay,” he said after a minute. “Go to sleep, muggle.”

He strolled towards the door, your eyes following him, “On the couch?”

He didn’t look back at you.

“Where are you going?” You asked, making him stop. 

“Even though you are a filthy little muggle,” he spoke, his voice failing to lighten with humour. “But as a wizard, I do have some honour. A bed to sleep in does not make a difference.”

“I can sleep on the bed?” You jumped up, he turned to look at you now. “What about you?”

Draco never shared a room with you, even at the Manor. He would stay and do his own thing when you went to sleep. But when you would wake up in the middle of the night, he’d be missing.

“Don’t worry about me, muggle,” he spat, cold.

“Wait. Draco!” You called as his hand touched the handle. You didn’t want him to go. You had just gotten company again, you didn’t want to be alone again.

“Go to sleep.” Draco sighed heavily before slipping out.

______________

“Welcome back,” you greeted the blonde haired boy as he walked in with a basket in his hand. 

When you quirked an eyebrow at the basket Draco let out a exhausted sigh putting it on the table in front of you. 

“Eat up, muggle.” he ordered before collapsing onto the seat in front of you. 

Before you opened the basket the delicious smell of breakfast wafted out making your tummy grumble. You pulled out a plate the food magically kept in place. 

“Do you want me to take your plate out?” You asked him, carefully. You didn’t know if he’d eat food touched by a muggle.

“It doesn’t matter,” Draco’s cold eyes rested on you, his jaw locking as if the silent question offended him. You ignored him and pulled out his plate and placed it infront of him. 

A moan escaped your lips as you bit into the food. You hadn’t realised how hungry you were, and how long it had been since you had your last meal. Everything feels like a haze here. 

“You know, muggle,” Draco lifiting his gaze to meet yours as he dug into his food. “You are quiet high maintenance for a pet.”

“Pet?” You spat as you gawked at the gorgeous smirking man in front of you. 

“What else could you possibly be considered?” Draco replied, in an exaggerated bored tone.

“Didn’t you call me your secret weapon yesterday?” You smirked at him. 

Draco just ignored you. 

“So where did you hide last night?” You pryed, making Draco roll his light eyes. 

“A girl’s dorm, perhaps?” You teased when he didn’t reply for a long moment. 

“I was in Blaise’s dorm,” Draco answered quickly, a hint of pink on his cheeks. 

“And you plan to remain there forever?” You quirked an eyebrow at Draco who stared at you annoyed. “You can’t keep sleeping at other places when you have your own dorm, Draco.”

“I do as I please,” Draco answered, sharply.

“Sure, until people get suspicious.” You retorted, shaking your head at his stubborness. “Just get another bed, or we’ll take turns, or-”

“Oh I see what this is,” Draco snorted, cutting you off as he laughed lightly. “This is all a part of you plan to seduce me.”

“Excuse me?” You chocked. 

Draco didn’t reply. He smirked at you in victory, making you groan in anger. 

“It’s not going to work,” he cooed. 

You decided to ignore him, and ate the rest of your breakfast sliently. 

You placed the empty plate down before you peered up at Draco with a question burning the tip of your tongue. 

“Speak,” Draco muttered, not even looking at you. “I can sense the curiosity raiding off you.”

“How did you know what I saw that night?” You asked him. Draco looked up, his sharp eyes peering into yours. “I never told you about them, so how?”

Draco sighed, before running a hand through his pushed back hair making it fall messily. “I read your mind.”

“What?” 

“At first I thought it was because you were so pathetically easy to read, but then I began to suspect it to be something else. And that night just made it clear,” Draco explained, as you stared at him confused. “It almost feels as if you’re standing on the other side of a tunnel just shouting or sending images into my mind.” 

“I,” you breathed lost, “have no idea what to say.”

“Well, there is nothing much to say,” Draco sighed exhausted. “I have spent the past week trying to figure it out, but much like your invisibility it makes absolutely no sense at all.”

You didn’t reply. Your mind in deep thought, processing everything as you picked up a grape and plopped into your mouth. 

Draco got up straightening his coat, “A little suggestion though, muggle.”

You looked up to meet his sparkling eyes, waiting for him to continue. 

“Nothing,” he said, happily holding back a grin with a smirk. “Don’t worry your pretty little muggle mind over this, pet.”

And then he walked out once again. 

[katebishopofearth]

iron masks and spider kisses – 12

The face plate of the Iron Man armour gleamed smooth and expressionless. Pale gold against the crimson boldness of the shoulders and chest. Faceless, inscrutable. What would it be like, Natasha wondered, when those eye slits, glowing blue with power, turned on you? In a way, Iron Man was more terrifying than even Captain America or Thor – at least they were of flesh and blood, with human faces and recognisable emotions. But Iron Man was the faceless Avenger, who might not even be human, who hunted with machine-like precision and mercilessness.

What would it be like, she wondered, to be the woman inside the armour? To feel that much power coursing through your exoskeleton, to see enemies run? To be faceless, inscrutable?

“If you make out with him I’m going to be jealous.”

Natasha spun around to see Toni coming in through the door of her workshop, limping slightly from a fight a few days ago. She collapsed onto the couch with a huff, limbs sprawling everywhere, hair loose and wavy about her cheeks.

Natasha turned away from Iron Man to face the woman that gave him life. “It must be freeing.”

“Hmm?”

“To not be seen at all,” Natasha explained. Toni might have grown up in the spotlight, learned to live with it, even be comfortable under its glare, but that was just another of the masks she donned, much like Natasha and her layers of masks and disguises. “When you’re Iron Man. Is that freeing? To be able to put on a mask and not be you?”

Toni exhaled. “You and I both know there are more to masks than putting on that armour.”

“True.” Natasha conceded. “But wearing the Iron Man mask is different from wearing Natasha Stark."

Toni’s jaw tightened slightly at the mention of her given name. Her brown eyes fixed on some point behind Natasha’s shoulder – Iron Man’s golden face. Her other half, her alter-ego. Where Natasha Stark was glamour and irreverence, clever words and dazzling smiles, Iron Man was titanium and gold, silent fire and sleek power. When she finally spoke her voice was even, but there was a certain tightness in her jaw. "My entire adult life I knew that as a woman, I would have to be two, three, five times as good as a man to earn a seat at the table. I did exactly that.”

Her voice roughened, the words rising up within her fast and urgent. “Every day, I have to fight to make them see my worth. Those condescending assholes still see me as Howard Stark’s daughter, some dumb heiress who had everything delivered straight into her lap. But when I’m Iron Man, none of that matters. All that matters is helping people, saving the world, and righting wrongs. It’s a lot simpler when you’re not a woman.” Her eyes returned to meet Natasha’s and her features relaxed slightly. “Although I’m putting on a mask it feels more like taking all the others off.”

Natasha walked around the couch and sat down. Nudged Toni’s feet out of the way to make room for herself. Toed her shoes off and curled her feet on the worn leather, toes against Toni’s calves. “Can you take them off? Be someone under all of them?”

Toni thought for a moment. “Sometimes,” she finally answered. “Others, it’s hard to tell where Natasha ends and Toni begins. Or where Toni ends and Iron Man begins.” She nudged Tasha’s bare foot with her own. “You get it. Masks and all.”

Natasha met Toni’s eyes with a small smile. She did. "The truth is a matter of circumstance. It’s not all things to all people – and neither are we.” They were more alike than she had bargained on, that day two years ago, after the Battle of New York, when they took off Iron Man’s mask and saw Toni’s face under it. She was surprised at the strange friendship that ensued, the wordless exchanges and understandings. But also surprised at her own surprise, because were they not two sides of the same coin? War and espionage, nonchalance and cynicism.

And under those masks, under Iron Man and Black Widow, who were they? What were they? She knew who Toni was, recognised the defiant spark in her, the burning desire to do good, to atone for her past and protect the Earth in the way only a genius with her resources could. But herself?

Natasha’s smile disappeared. Her eyes dropped down to her knees. Shying from Toni’s glance. “Without circumstances, without missions or aliases or masks –” She swallowed hard, hating feeling weak, feeling vulnerable. But Toni had a way of drawing out the truth in her, even if they were truths that she would rather never name. “I don’t know how to take my masks off anymore. Don’t know who’s under there – if there even is anyone at all.”

Toni made no reply. Waiting. Understood how hard it was for Natasha to talk about herself. Gave her time to speak at her own pace. And she did.

“Being a fighter is the one thing I’ve always known. What I was born and trained to do. I’ve fought for the highest bidder, for the KGB, for SHIELD, for Hydra.” She scoffed through the lump in her throat. “I’ve been so many people, for so many people. All without really knowing who I am, beyond the next mission. Now that SHIELD is gone – now that there isn’t another mission – where does that leave me?” Her green eyes glimmered with a loss that was soul-deep. “Who am I, when I don’t know who to fight for?”

[keep reading on AO3]

[read from the beginning]

[godzawa]

≥ Burnout

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou x Bakugou Katsuki

Rating: T (language)

Length:  1723

Summary: Kirishima has a bad habit of putting his work before himself. (aka Bakugou gives the best fucking massages, thank you very much)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27277441

When Kirishima walks through the door of his apartment, his body sags. He slips off his shoes, just barely careful enough to line them up properly so Bakugou doesn’t yell at him for being untidy, and then drags himself over to the couch, every step feeling like a weight dragging him down. 

As he nears the long black couch, his body topples over into it, face first into the cushion and his feet just barely hanging off. Back when they got their own place, he and Bakugou had tried painstakingly to find a couch long enough for their tall, broad bodies to be able to lay on them completely, and this one had been the closest they could find. 

It’s silent for a long few minutes, no noise but the soft sound of Kirishima trying to breathe with his face pressed against a soft cushion and the whirl of the ceiling fan above him. 

Eventually he barely picks out the soft patter of foot steps, someone leaving one of the two bedrooms and walking out into the living area.

He knows that Bakugou has seen him when he hears a deep sigh, something between annoyance and exasperation.

“You over did it again, didn’t you shitty hair?” His boyfriend states more than asks. Even though he can’t see him, Kirishima can just imagine Bakugou looking down on him, hands on his hips. 

Unable to really manage words, Kirishima just nods against the cushion. That small movement alone makes the muscles in his neck and shoulders scream in pain, making him regret moving altogether. 

It’s silent for a few more seconds, Kirishima back to being a limp corpse and Bakugou just watching him with his (beautiful) sharp red eyes. 

Eventually Bakugou moves, his footsteps leaving Kirishima and going off somewhere, back towards the hallways he guesses from the sounds of it. 

Kirishima thinks for a moment that Bakugou might have gone back to their bedroom. It’s sort of a touchy subject between them, how far Kirishima pushes himself. Ever since they left UA last year and started as sidekicks in different agencies, Kirishima has been stretching himself thin to try and stand out. He’s been there, every call or need of an extra hand, he volunteers because he loves what he does and he wants to be there to help save as many people as he can.

It wasn’t too much of an issue at first, but then it started to go too far. Nights without sleep, days of barely being home for more than a few hours.

It took Bakugou nearly leaving him to wake Kirishima up and really make him start focusing on taking care of himself. 

“You need to put yourself first sometimes, idiot. Even I know that.”

Seeing Bakugou cry out of frustration and pain is something Kirishima would rather die than see again.

He got better, he started taking time off when he needed it and only volunteering when he knew it wouldn’t be too much. He was doing so much better.

The past two days had been him slip up, the small relapse. He overdid it again. Fatgum was away and they were shortstaffed, so Kirishima stayed on call at the agency building. The plan had been to just stay there and relax as back up if it was needed, but then a call came in for a serious situation and he had to head out. The entire ordeal took ten hours of brutal work.

It wouldn’t surprise him if this slip up pissed off his boyfriend. Hell, he could lose him over something like this. 

Kirishima’s thoughts turned on him, slowly draining down into darkness. The fear of Bakugou being upset with him clenched his chest, but he was too tired to even deal with that. He guessed that if Bakugou was upset he’d have to beg for forgiveness later because his body was too broken to even think of getting up.

He sat there and kept spiralling in his own head, body unmovable and anxiety clawing up his insides. He was so wrapped up in his own worries that he didn’t even notice the soft sounds of Bakugou returning to the living room. He also didn’t notice said boyfriend approaching him until he felt a leg slide against his side right side, between him and the couch. 

A butt sat tenderly on his own and he realized that Bakugou was gently straddling his back.

“Babe?” He grumbled into the cushion, trying to turn his head in confusion.

“Just shut up and down move dumb ass.” The blonde barked back, stilling Kirishima.

His heart sped up a little as he tried to figure out what was going on, but he wasn’t left guessing for long.

He felt his tank top tug up, hands moving his arms out of the holes and causing Kirishima to wince a little as it was pulled off his head and tossed away. Soon warm fingers were pressing lightly into his skin, lotion gliding them easily over his scarred up skin. 

Bakugou slowly started working the lotion into his skin, his touch feather light and putting just enough pressure for Kirishima to let out a long groan of satisfaction. The lotion felt so nice, both cold and hot, seeping into his skin and into the tender muscles. His boyfriend’s hands were nice too, callused but so careful in their movements.

Kirishima was effectively melting into the couch, his back finally relaxing after a long day of over using his body and his quirk.

“Idiot.” Bakugou muttered angrily, with a bite of emotion. 

“M’sorry-” Kirishima tried to mutter out, but was quickly silenced by Bakugou with a (light) smack to the back of his head.

“Just shut up and let me rub this shit in alright.”

The blonde was very meticulous about his work. He made sure Kirishima’s back was thoroughly covered before moving on to other parts of his body, the neck and arms. After he got off of Kirishima and pulled off his red shorts, leaving the large man with only his boxer briefs on. He covered his hips, thighs, calves, even his feet were treated with a massage good enough to have Kirishima moaning in a way that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the tension leaving his muscles.

All this while, he felt like his thoughts were sliding through honey while he laid there. Getting treatment like this from Bakugou was something to treasure, the little moments where he felt so utterly encompassed by his love for the fiery man.

It always bothered him how people viewed his lover, like he was some sort of unfeeling asshole all of the time. Kirishima knew the truth, even from the first few weeks of their friendship. Bakugou has a heart bigger than anyone else he knew.

“I need you to roll over so I can get the other side.” The sharp orders invaded his thoughts.

Kirishima took a moment to take a deep breath, then carefully twisted his body, a few grunts of pain escaping his mouth as he did so. Bakugou watched to the side, waiting for Kirishima to settle onto his back before he straddled the red haired man again.

This time when Bakugou started pressing the cooling medicated lotion into his skin, Kirishima watched him. He didn’t watch the hands, but Bakugou’s face scrunched up between concentration and a scowl. He didn’t even try to say anything as he watched, the silence heavy between them. Eventually Kirishima couldn’t even keep his eyes open anymore as he slipped into ease, Bakugou’s fingers bringing his mind into sludge and his vision blurring.

“I’m not mad at you” 

His eyes tried their best to open. “What?”

“I was at first,” Bakugou explained, his face the picture of unease, “I wanted to fucking explode your dumb ass, but I knew this was bound to happen eventually. It takes effort to kick a bad habit. You’re a pain in my ass though you know that?” He grumbled.

“I know.” he muttered softly.

Bakugou’s hand’s stilled. He finally, finally moved his crimson eyes away from Kirishima’s body and looked into his eyes. “But your my pain in the ass got it? I wouldn’t put up with your dumb ass if I didn’t think it was worth it Eijirou, so stop looking at me like a kicked puppy before I actually explode your damn face.”

The barest hint of a smile quirked up Kirishima’s lips. 

“That’s better.” He grumbled before going back to focus on his task at hand.

Silence returned and Bakugou finished up his task, completely covering arms and legs in the lotion. When he finished he capped the bottle and placed it on the coffee table.

Kirishima reached a hand out for Bakugou’s shirt, lightly tugging at it. When those red eyes returned to him he asked, “lay with me for a while?”

Although he would never tell this to anyone (for fear of his life if a certain hot blonde ever found out), Bakugou’s pout was about the cutest damn thing ever. He had that pout pointed towards Kirishima at that moment, clearly caving into his boyfriend in a rare show of weakness.

“You want my heavy ass to lay on you?” 

Kirishima nodded, his smile widening. Bakugou tsked and sighed.

“Idiot.”

He slid down on top of Kirishima though, his body covering his lover’s and his head slotting onto Kirishima’s shoulder as a pillow. 

They laid like that, silent and holding each other for an amount of time neither of them could discern. It felt so nice, just to hold Bakugou and enjoy his presence, even if the blonde’s massive body made his already aching body ache more. 

“Next time I’ll kick your ass first before the bomb ass massage.” Bakugou mumbled into his shoulder sleepily.

Kirishima grinned, moving his head slightly to press the barest kiss into Bakugou’s cheek. “I’m going to work hard to make sure there isn’t a next time.”

“Good.”

When they woke up on the couch the next morning, Bakugou proceeded to complain about his body being fucked up from sleeping on the couch, all while Kirishima watched him cooking in the kitchen, a stupid fond look coloring his expression while his boyfriend bitched and whined. He wouldn’t have any other way.

[meganshinsou-tm]

Crimson|Ink. (m)

↳ chapter five: murderers are getting prettier every day

❧ genre:  tattoo-shop/hitmen au | tattoo artist/hitman kirishima 

❧ fic warning: major character(s) death; happy ending

❧ chapter warnings: blood, violence, torture, screaming/yelling

❧ chapter song: Murderers Are Getting Prettier Every Day by Marilyn Manson

♬crimson|ink playlist | ♧ character profiles | artist credit

[multi-chap masterlist] [previous chapter - next chapter]

"Oh, so you're also art dealers?"

Shouto nodded, "Yes. Mostly me and Izuku here handle the big deals and trades, we've pretty much covered every inch of Japan now. Even a few states in America. It was my father's business before it was passed onto me. I've gathered this crew of artists throughout my years and asked each and every one of them to be a part of it with me. All of us have some sort of connection with each other, be it art or our upbringing."

You pursed your lips and nodded. It made sense you guessed, why not open a tattoo shop on the side to always have a steady flow of business. Your brow quirked when you realized that this also meant that all these men had to be filthy rich. Art dealers and the market for such items was a very lavish and expensive market, most pieces just started out at the millions. It being a shared business among them all, there was no doubt they each got some sort of commission, especially since Bakugou, Sero and Kirishima ran this tattoo shop while Shouto and Deku were on business trips.

"So, you're all kind of like this big art mafia huh?"

Izuku choked on his tea, causing you to whip your head in his direction and immediately locate some napkins from one of the counters before going back to sit by his side. You gently wiped his lips dry as you softly pat his back.

"Sorry, that was just uh – funny," Izuku replied with a cough.

You smirked and ruffled his green hair after handing over the napkins and crossed your leg to look at Shouto. He rose a brow towards you and walked from his spot on the wall and towards the rolling stool that sat by his tattoo chair. His foot kicked it your way and he followed it, you watched the angelic man lower and sit on the black cushion before you. Once Shouto's heterochromatic eyes looked up to meet yours, you felt your heart stop briefly from how powerful they were but you still managed a soft smile.

"I like to refer to us as a 'family'. We all watch after and take care of each other, everyone has their place and their role in this shop, even you."

You placed your hand to your chest, motioning to yourself and chuckled. 

"Me? I've only been here a month Shouto, I just run errands, clean, make appointments and bring some femininity to the place. I don't place works of art onto people's skin, adorn them with pretty metal and crystals, or have the balls to deal with the likes of the art trading market. I'm just – (Y/N)."

Deku chuckled next to you and grabbed your hand from your chest, holding it on his knee and squeezing it. You had literally just met the man maybe twenty minutes ago and you were showing affection like you've known each other for years. 

This shop was so strange to you sometimes, these beautifully tattooed men all just connected with you almost instantly and you with them. It felt like somehow you had some connection already to this shop but you didn't know how. 

A smile crossed your face as Deku brushed your skin with his thumb.

"Kacchan insisted that you work here (Y/N), Kacchan! He's not the easiest person to win over, at all."

A laugh left your lips and you clicked your tongue, "I think you mean that red-headed asshole down the hall isn't the easiest to win over. Kacchan was nothing."

Shouto and Deku looked at each other, both slightly confused. The Kirishima they knew wasn't what you'd call an 'asshole', he was rough sometimes but never did he meet a stranger that he couldn't befriend. From the looks of it earlier, Kiri actually seemed quiet taken with you as you healed him, only confusing Shouto even further. 

Maybe there is something Bakugou didn't mention that caused you to form such an opinion? 

The two-toned man brushed it out of his mind for now though, who liked each other or not wasn't the topic he was on.

"What Izuku means is that Bakugou doesn't just let people in within a flash, especially when it comes to this shop. When I'm away, you can say that Bakugou is in charge around here. He takes pride in this shop, in his friends. To tell you the truth, when Kirishima first brought up the idea of hiring someone for this position you have, Bakugou was the one 100% against it. He doesn't like just random people coming into our shop and becoming this very important part of it. So when he practically threatened to 'blow my fucking face off into oblivion and beyond' over you, a random girl, I found it odd."

(E/c) eyes blinked at Shouto, you were sort of dumbfounded right now and confused. Bakugou was shoving this job down your throat the moment he saw you, he went as far as to send two of his very own men to beg that you come back. If he was against it in the first place, why did he suddenly go all out for it when he met you?

"We like to say that Kacchan has like a sixth sense or a third eye," Deku finally spoke and broke your sea of thoughts. "He can sense these strange things, like when something good or bad is about to happen, or if someone he meets is of value or not, if that makes sense. Bottom line is, he saw something in you, something that told him that not only the shop needed you but we needed you."

You smirked and pinched Deku's freckled cheek as he took it upon himself to try and help you see things clearly. You sort of got it, but it still boggled your mind as to why? 

"Maybe it's my quirk, he did say that it would be perfect for this place," you thought while biting at your lip. 

You turned your head to look at Shouto when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, he looked at you with a subtle smile.

"You're a lot more than you think (Y/N). You help this shop run, you also help heal people, I've heard and I saw it with my own eyes. You are special and you are part of this 'art mafia', family, whatever you want to call it. That means every single one of us are watching out for you and have your back, so if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask or to talk with one of us."

Sighing, you looked from Shouto and back to Deku who gave you the cutest smile. You placed a hand on his cheek and pinched before letting him go. Looking to Shouto you smiled and placed your hand over his on your shoulder, squeezing it and nodding.

"Thank you Shouto and Deku. That really means a lot."

You and Shouto removed your hands and you sat there, a relieved breath leaving you as you looked around the studio. 

"So, do either of you tattoo?"

"Oh – Shouto here tattoos, I actually just help with the finances and stuff, all the paper work and numbers. I used to do your job when we were in town."

"I'm guessing you're a hard artist to get an appointment with then," you asked looking at Shouto.

He smiled and rose from his stool and walked over to the desk in the corner going to answer a text he received on his phone that sat on it, "Sometimes. I also just have my certain loyal customers and don't take many new ones. Why are you inquiring?"

Your shoulders shrugged and you hummed, you kind of were, maybe not right now but eventually you wanted to have something done by everyone in the shop, even by Bakugou. You wanted something to keep forever that reminded you of this wonderful little shop and these amazing men, life was very uncertain for you right now. You didn't exactly know whether you were staying or going.

"One day I'd love to! Actually, do either of you have your own tattoos? I haven't seen anything yet, but – you're also covered in clothes."

Deku chuckled and removed the hoodie he wore, revealing a loose over-sized grey shirt that hung from his body. On his forearm you immediately spotted a tattoo, it was of a green oni mask with a samurai helmet and swords crisscrossing behind it. You smiled at the color and looked to see that Deku's arms and hands were littered with scars. How you didn't see the ones on his hands before blew your mind, maybe because now you saw so many.

"Oh my god, Deku, what happened to you," you blurted out and grabbed his tattooed arm, fingers running over his scars gently.

The male had to take a second from the sudden contact of your skin to his so intimately. His free hand came up to tousle his hair and he forced down the pink that dusted his cheeks. 

"Oh uh – that's just from growing up and getting used to my quirk, among other things. I pushed myself and my limits too hard sometimes."

You pouted and counted scar after scar, you could tell he was only telling a fraction of the truth, some of the scars looked fresh probably by a few weeks. If he didn't want to delve into it though you didn't want to push it. 

He asked if you wanted to see his other tattoos and you nodded with a smile before letting go of his arm. Seconds later your eyes widened when his hands gathered the fabric of his loose shirt and started to pull it up his body. You really did try to look everywhere except his body but it was so difficult.

A sheepish chuckle came out of you as you brushed back a lock of hair, "I uh – don't have any cash on me right now Deku or else I'd make it rain. Like how are you so built?"

The male laughed as his shirt was removed from his body and bunched up on his forearms. Even if you called Deku a 'small' green bean, he was in actuality much bigger than you, in height and bulk. He was very muscular but a lean muscular, very attractive and handsome. Honestly you just wanted to stare all day and possibly touch him. Even more scars littered his chest, one very large scar started at his shoulder and went down to his elbow. 

Deku turned around and you gasped when he gave you his back. A beautiful and extremely detailed samurai warrior with sword in hand was inked into his skin, a Japanese temple was in the background and there was lots of shading to bring a dark and dreary tone to the piece. It looked as if someone took a poster and just plastered it on Deku's sculpted back, it was that perfect.

"I still think that's some of my best work," Shouto finally spoke for the first time during all of this.

Jaw dropping and looking back and forth from the tattoo to Shouto you pointed at the ink, "You did this? Are you serious?"

The man in question nodded and smirked, standing from the desk and ducking his cell into his pocket, Shouto walked over next to you and looked. 

"It definitely wasn't a one day thing, this piece took a few months to finish, you know to let everything breathe and heal properly and also between our business ventures."

Deku gasped when your cold fingers ran all over his back, tracing out the imagery and leaning close to really take it all in. His heart started to pound as you curiously felt on his skin, fingers feather-light. You 'oh'd' and 'ah'd' as Shouto explained the shading and lines and what spots were a bitch to do.

"Wow, it's really stunning Shouto, great job! Do you all just tattoo each other?"

Both men nodded and Deku put his shirt back on and turned around to face you and Shouto. 

"Shouto did the back piece, Kirishima did my forearm and Kirishima did Shouto's pieces."

Before you could even ask what Shouto had as his tattoo's or even become lucky enough to have him strip before you, the door to his studio slammed open and there stood Bakugou. His eyes scanned the room looking for something, stopping when they found you. For some reason you froze before smirking at him, gaining a cocky smile in return.

"I hope you aren't trading me in for these fucking extra's already princess, I haven't even had my fun with you yet," he commented while brushing past Deku and towards you.

Your hand flattened on the blonde's chest stopping him before you, his face still leaned close and you could smell his intoxicating sweet scent as you locked eyes with each other. 

"I haven't traded any one in for anything because I don't belong to any of you. And if you or anyone wants to 'have fun with me' then all you have to do is let me know a time and a place ... Kacchan!"

The growing smile on Bakugou's face quickly turned sour. 

"The fuck did you just call me," he asked with a husky voice that sent shivers down your spine.

You smiled and walked your fingers up the blonde's chest and neck to his face as you repeated yourself and spaced out your syllables. 

"I. Said. Kacchan."

Deku let out a squeak making the blonde turn his face and glare thus giving you a window to hurry and escape your death with a scream. Your feet bolted for the door and around the corner to run down the hall, you heard small popping noises and a "die" following fast after you. Tears streamed from your face from how hard you laughed, looking back you stuck out your tongue and flipped Bakugou two middle fingers, only making him accelerate faster. When you turned your head back forward you gasped upon seeing Denki in the way and tried to stop but collided into him with a hard thud. He grunted but stood his ground and quirked a brow.

"Don't you fucking let her go Pikachu, keep her right there!"

Your eyes widened looking back at Bakugou and you tried to run but Denki grabbed your shoulders and turned you around, pulling your back into his chest, doing as Bakugou instructed.

"Denki you fucking traitor, I thought you loved me!"

A laugh came from the golden-haired man, "I do love you lil'mama, but I kind of love living more."

Whining, your eyes squeezed shut as Bakugou zeroed in on you, his boots literally squeaking as he came to a stop before you. He leaned forward real close to where his lips touched the shell of your ear, you physically shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath and let out a curse that made him chuckle.

"Got the balls to repeat that princess?"

You smirked and chuckled yourself before making a bold move and licking up the blondes cheek, "Did I fucking stutter, Kacchan?"

Behind you Denki was shaking with laughter, "Ooh!"

"Kaminari, hold her still," were the last words you heard before strong and merciless fingers were at your sides and under your arms violently tickling you.

Denki kept a strong grip on your arms and placed the front of his feet over yours to keep you from kicking. Cries and sheer laughter erupted from within you, Bakugou mentioned that all you had to do was beg and ask nicely for him to stop and he would. You were too prideful though and refused to bow down to him.

"Never you fucking pomeranian!

The torture ensued tenfold. Your abdomen contracted as you tried to hunch over and hide your body but neither of the boys let up.

"The longer you drag this out the longer you go without food!"

Your lips pouted between laughing and you tried to bat your lashes, "Katsu that's not fair, I'm starving and this moron almost killed me today!"

Bakugou smiled at the little nickname you spoke for him, it had his blood pumping even more and he wanted to hear it again. 

"Fine then, don't beg or ask nicely. Just same my name like that one more time and I'll stop."

Trying to catch your breath between squeals and giggles you smirked at the blonde before you and rolled your eyes. 

"Fine. Please Katsu," you whined with pouty lips.

The blonde stopped and snapped his fingers, making Denki release you. Off balance you almost fell to the floor but Bakugou helped and caught you, his massive hands grabbing the side of your shoulders and bringing you close to his chest, your hands balled up against your own and you smiled and panted looking at him. 

"What, does that float your boat?"

"That wasn't even my name but I’m turned on," Denki interrupted.

You snorted and Bakugou couldn't help to crack his own laugh at the idiot you each called your friend. Before Bakugou could even get a word out or try to snap back at you a voice caught your ear.

"What the hell is going on?"

You looked to see Kirishima walking into the kitchen from the hall and suddenly felt like you were caught doing something wrong. Bakugou smirked and quickly grabbed your hips before hoisting you up and over his shoulder, earning a yelp as you squirmed. His hand landed a firm smack on your ass for the second time that day. You growled and punched his own ass but failed from the lack of force behind your swing.

"We were just rounding everyone up to eat," Bakugou replied with a shit eating grin and turned to walk you into the front lobby area.

You were now facing Kiri as the blonde carried you away, a smile crossed your face and you waved at the red-head. Unlike earlier, he didn't smile back, only looked severely agitated and rolled his eyes. Your head hung low at this and you just went along with the ride.

After eating lunch together in the front of the shop, Kirishima's tattoo appointment arrived causing him to leave the small talk that was going on. Shouto's phone rang and he excused himself to his studio to take it, leaving you, Bakugou, Deku and Denki alone. You sat between Deku and Bakugou on the nice black couch crisscrossed, one knee bouncing and hitting Deku’s. You talked about random things to pass the time until one idea came into your head.

"Hey, Bakugou," you called out turning to the blonde next to you.

He quirked a brow while drinking from his water bottle and wiped his mouth when he was done. "Drop that shit."

"Hah?"

"The fucking name, just use my given one, it's shorter for you to say."

A smile crossed your face and you leaned over placing your head on Bakugou's arm. "Aww, okay Katsuki! Anyway, would you ever pierce me?"

"With fucking pleasure!"

Sitting back up straight you turned more to fully face him, "What would you suggest? I don't really want a cliché belly button piercing."

Bakugou turned his head to look at you, he focused mainly on your face. His hand came up and grabbed your chin, the pad of his thumb ran across your bottom lip and he smiled. 

"You have these really fucking nice lips, I wouldn't want to ruin them with any snake bites or some shit but a little Monroe right here," he poked at the skin on your upper lip, "would really bring more focus to them."

His hand cupped your jaw and turned your face side to side gently, "If you wanted another, I'd say a simple nose ring. Your face is too pretty to fuck up with anything more than that."

You smiled and grabbed Bakugou's wrist, brushing his skin with your thumb, "Aww Katsu, are you just trying to get into my pants?"

The blonde smirked and brushed your own skin, "Obviously – but I'm also not a liar, I wouldn't say mushy shit like that if I didn't mean it, so be grateful!"

You smiled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek and sat back again. The thought of either piercing intrigued you. The more time you spent at the shop the more you wanted another tattoo or piercing. You felt naked when all the guys were around you, covered heavily in ink of their own and you were just - plain.

As you thought more, Shouto happened to walk back in and he rubbed the side of his neck when everyone but you looked at him. He subtly brushed the tip of his nose with his thumb, causing the three men before him to look at each other. You finally looked around and to Shouto and smiled. Bakugou sighed and stood from the couch, stretching and cracking the bones in his neck. Deku stood up next and you looked between them both.

"What's up guys?"

A hand gripped your knee and you looked to see Bakugou leaning down and close with a smile. 

"We have to go handle some business really quick, I'll pierce you next time princess."

You couldn't even get a word out before Bakugou placed a quick peck to your cheek and walked away. A weird feeling came over you and you grabbed Deku's hand when he went to follow, he grunted as you stopped him and turned around.

"Uh – be careful okay? It's getting late and the weather gets worse, so drive safely."

The green-haired man smiled before leaning over and placing a kiss to your head, "We'll be fine (Y/N), no worries!"

It had been a good two hours since Shouto, Deku and Bakugou left. The shop was slow and quiet with only one artist in who was currently finishing up the client he had. To curb your boredom, you and Denki decided to watch some anime at the counter together. You learned that most of the boys for the majority were nerds just like you, especially Denki. The golden-haired man was definitely one of your closest friends now and the two of you literally did everything together.

"I'll go beyond the limit break! The universe is mine to take! I have no fear, AH! I think it's clear, AH! Let's take it up into high gear! Oh this is Dragon Ball Super, we got the skills to blow them all away," you and Denki screamed singed on your stools, punching the air and each other.

Around that time Kirishima's client had walked out and to the counter to pay for their tattoo, catching all your hype. Of course neither you nor Denki were ashamed and you proceeded to take the gentlemen's payment . After he was taken care of and left, you followed behind to close and lock the door and flip the open sign over to signal the shop was now closed. Your feet skipped back behind the counter to watch the show with Denki, a few minutes later Kirishima appeared running a hand through his red thick spiky locks.

"What the fuck are you two screaming about up here?"

"Just some Dragon Ball, wanna watch Kiri," you questioned with a smile.

He quirked a brow and shook his head. 

An excited knock on the door broke all of your attention, making you jump as you looked up to see Sero outside with a massive smile. You immediately yelled out his name with excitement and left your stool to go let him in. Red eyes watching in envy at your adoration for the black-haired man. 

When Sero entered you hugged each other close and kissed cheeks. With an arm draped over your shoulder the two of you walked back to the counter and you helped to brush off a few snow flakes from his coat.

"How has your day off been Sero," you asked with a smile.

"It was boring to say the least, got a few errands done and just chilled. How was your day beautiful?"

At that moment you and Denki zeroed in on each other, eyes squinting and jaws clenching. Your fingers flew up to point at each other and in unison you both replied. 

"He/She set the kitchen on fire!"

Thus ensued the fight between the two of you as he tried to pin the whole situation on you. Sero knew better though, he even mentioned how Denki was technically banned from using the toaster anyway because of his dangerous ways of cooking. This only infuriated you more and caused you to shake his shoulders and make him have whiplash all over again. 

Sero laughed his ass off as he watched and Kirishima also chuckled. It humored him to see you all worked up, eyes wild and nonsense spewing from your lips. He pictured you as a little puppy trying to show how big and bad they were, it was quite adorable.

Finally, Sero stepped in and pried away your hands that were now on Denki's throat. 

"Alright, alright, so I take it today has been a day huh? I heard that Shouto and Deku are back, you met them?"

"Tch, did she ever, she was practically suffocating poor Izuku with her tits," Denki replied.

You went to kick at him but he dodged and stuck a pierced tongue out at you, Sero contained you, holding your back to his chest in a hug.

"You're just jealous Denki because now that little green bean is going to get all my attention."

"You're damn right I'm jealous! Until he showed up back, I was the shop heart throb!"

Kirishima and Sero snorted with laughter and Sero placed his hands on your shoulders, one going to ruffle your hair, "I'm sorry bro, but I think she stole that title from you."

You smiled with pride and thanked Sero for the compliment.

Suddenly Denki fell to his knees and crawled until he was hugging yours and fake crying. 

"I defended your honor though, don't let some freckles and green hair make you forget about your first true love! I can share you!"

You rolled your eyes and ran a hand through the golden hair, gripping and pulling the groveling man's head back. "I could never forget you Denki, trust me!"

"So does that mean I get to suffocate in your perfect boobs too?"

Before you could even reply both Sero and Kirishima took it upon themselves to smack the shit out of Denki. 

"You're fucking gross sometimes man," Kirishima growled.

You couldn't help but chuckle as the two men gave Denki what he deserved, you honestly weren't really offended, it's just how Denki was but it was nice to have Kirishima stand up for you for once. 

Holding up your hands you called off your two guard dogs and helped Denki back up to his feet. He pouted and laid his head on your shoulder, making you awe and hug him.

"I'm sorry cutie, that was shitty of me to say."

A sweet giggle rung in his ear and you patted his back. "It's okay Denki, I could never stay mad at you. You do know you're pretty much friend-zoned though, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I still want love too; these assholes aren't nice to me like you."

Sero and Kirishima groaned and threw their hands up while Denki started to gripe and whine, telling his sob story of being the shop bitch. You laughed and continued to coddle the man in your arms, listening to his fake cries while he hugged you back.

"You guys should be ashamed of yourself tearing down this man's pride and dignity, look at him, how could you be so mean to such a cute face," you cooed and took Denki's face in your hands squishing his cheeks.

"Tch, what little pride and dignity he had to start off with," Kirishima chuckled with Sero.

As the two continued to tease their friend, you continued to comfort him, trying to hide your own giggles. Denki was smiling and eating it up though, giving his two younger peers a middle finger. Finally all of you calmed down and you got around to asking why Sero even showed up so late.

"Well I was coming to pick up this fool, I also wanted to see if everyone wanted to come and hangout at our place tonight. We can get some pizza and drinks. Since you started working here, we haven't all really hung out much outside of work you know."

You smiled and nodded with excitement, "Oh that sounds fun, I'd love to!"

Sero grinned and nudged Kirishima, "You in too?"

The red-head rubbed the side of his neck and thought it over, his eyes met yours and he froze from you staring at him as if silently pleading that he agreed. He was groaning on the inside but he sighed and nodded.

"Sure, I gotta get my shit cleaned up first though, so one of you come help please," he requested, turning to walk back down the hall.

"I'll go help him," you chimed.

Denki and Sero nodded, "Okay then, I think we're gonna leave and go get the food and drinks. You can catch a ride to our place with him, if he tries to say anything about it just tell him to suck it up and call me if he really wants to be an ass about it."

After gifting each other kisses on the cheek and hugs, Denki and Sero left the shop and you locked the door behind them. Turning around and leaning against it you took a deep breath before walking off towards the hall and to Kirishima's studio. When you entered he was tossing out his used ink cups and looked up at you before looking away. You swallowed thickly and went to help him out by grabbing the disinfectant spray and spraying down his tattoo chair.

"Uh – the guys left to get a few things and said I could just catch a ride with you, you know since I decided to walk today," you softly spoke and gritted your teeth, body tensing up and waiting on some type of cold and harsh reply.

"That's fine little one."

"So, art dealers, that's what you fucking told her?"

Shouto nodded at Bakugou's question, removing the charred sweater from his body and tossed it into the large drum that sat next to a table full of blades and saws, even an electric one.

"That's all I could tell her, she's only been here a month Bakugou, give it some time before we really reveal who we truly are. I know you see something in her, but I still need to evaluate her myself before we tell her anything."

Bakugou rolled his eyes and examined the tools of torture on the table before him. Sobs and screams of pure agony mixed with the heavy music playing in the background making him smirk. He turned to see Deku grinning as he slowly peeled off the fingernails of the man bolted to a chair. Blood staining his grey over-sized shirt, small splatters dusted across his freckled face while he screamed with the man manically. Once Deku tore off the last nail he tossed it into a pile of the others and stood back to enjoy his handy-work.

"No one is going to hear you way out here you fucking animal, keep screaming, I bet I can scream louder," Deku challenged.

The blonde appeared next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm guessing that lead you two followed didn't turn up shit huh?"

Deku shook his head and scratched his temple with the bloody pliers in his hands, leg swinging out to kick the chair, making the victim in it cry out more.

"No, it was a bust. We tracked down this petty little gang for nearly a month only to find out they just sell dope on the side. They weren't exactly killers so we just dropped it. Now we're back where we started, I feel like we're never going to find the bastard that killed Yagi."

"We'll find them, we just need a break for now and time to gather new intel," Shouto spoke and walked up with a butchering saw propped on his shoulder.

He stood there with his other hand on his hip, the broken and bleeding man before him took in the tattoos that covered his arms and chest. 

It was all brushwork, like Japanese calligraphy that danced from Shouto's elbows and up his arms to his shoulders and chest. But on each side the brushwork morphed into different colored oni mask's once you looked at his pectorals. An elegant yet still intimidating white mask was inked on his right one, what looked like crystals of ice dripped from it. On the right, a fierce red one engulfed in a beautiful flame stared back at him. 

All three men looked terrifying and were terrifying. The blonde looked smug in his black tank that dipped low in the front to reveal grenades and roses among explosions. The green-haired male at first looked like he wouldn't hurt a fly but so far, he was the most sadistic of the three.

"W-Who are you, what do you want with me!"

Bakugou clicked his tongue and tilted his head. 

"We're the fuckers that are going to end your miserable life, the same way you ended those two young ladies who were just walking home from dinner. My pal Deku here is going to peel off your toe-nails next, then we'll start disassembling you finger by finger, toe by toe, limb by limb until your shitty body fills up this bin over here and we dispose of you properly. Anymore questions?"

[redeyedryu]

Cross Dimensional Problems

Chapter 6 - Drained | [Ao3] | 1 | « | x |  » |

Aaaand here’s another chapter! Bit shorter than last time but uh.... enjoy?

Summary: They don’t trust you; you don’t trust them.

Sans crosses a boundary but what you don’t know won’t hurt you... right?

“Hey, does anyone gotta charger that’ll work with my phone?”

The room, which had been rather loud and boisterous seconds before you had opened your mouth, is now silent. If there had been a cricket present, it would have been chirping loud and clear.

“Uh…? Is that a no?”

Stars be damned. They're all just staring at you. Again! This is like the fifth time today, what the hell guys, stop it!

“Look, the vacant staring is getting kind of old.”

Red is the first to snap out of it with a shake of his head. He's actually not scowling at you for once.

“ya gotta phone?” he asks, for some reason in complete disbelief.

“...yeah? Kind of a staple of life in my native reality…?” Are cell phones not as big of a thing here? They're not still those clunky brick phones with hella tiny screens and number pad keyboards here, are they? Man, you hope not. Also you really hope someone can charge your phone because you’ve got a lot of stuff on this chunk of plastic, metal, and glass. It would suck to be stuck with a useless brick you had spent hundreds of dollars on.

“lemme see it,” Red demands, now suddenly standing before you. His clawed hand is spread before your face in a very clear gimmie manner.

“What? No!” You protest, clutching the device to your chest. You have things and stuff in it that you would really rather none of them see!

Like the home screen, which just so happens to be a commissioned piece of you and a certain skeleton. The lock screen should be fine, you think; you doubt Deltarune means anything to these guys.

When you cast a quick, cursory glance over the room and spot Black lounging on the love seat across from you, you absolutely do not sputter and panic. The red dusting your cheeks is all because you're trying to fend off Red and his grabby hands, aiming for your phone!

Case in point: he’s currently pressed up against your back, arms wrapped around your sides and claws making grabby motions at the device clutched tightly in your hands, huddled close to your chest.

“If you don't gotta charger you can just say so!” You nearly shout, shifting your weight to keep him at your back as he moves to get in front of you.

“heh, y’actin’ real suspicious, kid. whadda ya hidin’?”

“Nothing!” you screech, voice only slightly cracking.

“c’mon, babe,” Red says and your face just scrunches automatically. “fork it over n’ maybe i’ll lend ya mine.”

You twist away from him when he tilts at just the right angle to wedge an arm over your shoulder, claws inches from your phone. “Don't call me ‘babe’, Red, that's disgusting. And for the last time, no! I don't want your phone, you've probably got like weird mustard themed porn on that thing or something!”

He sputters and falters. “wh-wha?! no i ain’t!” And you take the opening, easily rolling out from under him so you now stand a few feet away.

“Fine, regular porn! But my point still stands, I'm not handing my phone over!”

The skeleton scowls and clicks his metaphorical tongue.

“c’mon, ain’t such a big deal.” Red growls at you, a scowl spreading across his face. He crosses his arms and flops back onto the couch, jostling Stretch, who had already been seated. The taller skeleton is watching with one half-lidded eye socket, skull resting in his palm as he cozies up to the couch’s arm. He doesn't say anything, just watches as you and Red bicker.

You huff and cross your own arms, grip tightening on your phone. “Yeah, well my privacy is.”

“tch. s’rich, commin’ from someone i ain't never met who claims they know so much ‘bout me.” Red sneers at you, his crimson eyelights flashing, before his expression shifts to a downright malicious grin. “heh. betcha yer th’ one wit sum nasty shit on there.”

Excuse you? Excuse you?!

You can't formulate a proper response to the asshole’s very obvious baiting. You know what he’s doing, you do, but that doesn't make it any easier to control yourself, to formulate a cohesive reply. A quick glance around the room, from Red to Stretch, to Black, to Serif and back again, doesn't help. Maybe you were hoping someone would jump in in your defense or… or something! But no. They're all just very obviously listening in, clearly unwilling to offer you any kind of assistance—you, the weird, suspicious human who knows too much.

None of them trust you. None of them like you.

Your stomach rolls and a tightness constricts in your chest. There's an uncomfortable tingle spreading out from beneath your skin that you try to ignore. The hand not gripping your phone digs into your upper arm and you dig your nails into the flesh, dragging them across your skin in an effort to ground yourself, to distract your spiraling mind.

You turn on your heel and leave the room without so much as another word. You don't need to put up with this kind of bullshit.

---------------

Papyrus, Classic™ Papyrus, finds you sitting in the kitchen, alone, not too long later. You're seated at the small table you had devoured that bag of popato chisps just the night prior. Somehow that already feels like it had happened days ago.

You’re hunched over in your seat, your hair curtaining your face as you glare down at your phone. It's the only connection you have to your home, to your life, and it's sitting at a measly twelve percent battery life. Why hadn't you charged it when you were home? It's not like anything had kept you from doing so, aside from your own stupid laziness. You bite your lip and dig your nails into your thighs, relying on the pain to distract your treacherous, wandering mind.

The skeleton is hesitant to say anything at first, the tension and unease rolling off you in near tangible waves an uncomfortable pressure on his soul. You apparently hadn't noticed his entrance, too focused glaring at the small device sat on the table before you. Papyrus frowns. He doesn't know you, and your story is a strange one, but you had seemed nice enough. A little strange and worrying, but you appear to be a good person overall. So it upsets him, to see you sitting there in obvious turmoil.

He walks up beside you and clears his throat. You merely pull in your shoulders, head dipping lower. There's a shudder to your body and he isn't sure, but he thinks he hears a soft hiccup. Are you… crying?

“Human?” Papyrus questions gently, placing a gloved hand upon your shoulder. “Are You Alright?”

You choose to ignore the way you jolt at his sudden touch and sniffle, bringing a palm to wipe at the treacherous tears pooling along your eyes. You take a deep breath and h o l d  i t  i n. Then release.

Feeling grounded enough, you utter a frustratingly meek affirmation and hope that's enough to appease the skeleton. His hand does not leave your shoulder.

He crouches down so that his skull is level with your eye-line. From your peripheral and through the curtain of your hair, you can see the concerned, tender expression he is giving you. You bite at your lip and dig your nails into the meat of your thighs.

“If Something Is Wrong, You May Talk To Me About It, Human.”

His voice is so soft, almost pleading. It almost lulls you into giving in. Almost.

You shake your head and wipe at your face, gulp in a deep breath and then toss your head back, posture straightening. It's easy to slap a smile on your face as you address the skeleton, “I'm good, Papyrus, don't worry!” You ignore the way his sockets narrow in a suspicious squint. “Just a bit bummed I don't have a way to charge my phone. It's almost dead.”

And here, you snatch the device from the table and wave it at him and shrug. He lets his hand fall from your shoulder as he moves to cup his chin.

He appears to be pondering something for a brief moment before he looks at you with wide, excited sockets.

“Have You Spoken To My Brother?”

Your brows furrow. “Sans? No, why?” Honestly, you think he might be avoiding you. You haven’t seen hide nor hair of the monster since your little confrontation earlier.

“Well, I’m Sure You Know That He Is Quite Great—Not Nearly As Great As I, Of Course.” You nod blankly. “Speak With Him, Friend, I Am Sure He Is More Than Capable Of Putting Something Together!”

Your shoulders pull in and the grin you give Papyrus is tight. Something clenches in your chest. “Ah… yeah, that's a good idea.” Somehow you doubt you will be able to locate the elusive skeleton.

“I’M GLAD YOU AGREE!” Papyrus all but shouts as he picks himself up from his crouch. “WAIT HERE! I SHALL GO FETCH THE LAZYBONES!” And without another word, Papyrus is off and running.

The tension eases from your muscles at his exuberant exit. Papyrus will probably have better luck at tracking down his brother than you ever will. Especially considering 1) Sans can teleport and 2) He likely doesn't want to see you on the count of whatever he saw.

You sigh and slouch in your seat and fiddle with your phone. Guess you'll wait here.

---------------

Sans taps a phalanx across the surface of his desk as he stares at your phone.

Papyrus had searched him out earlier and proposed putting something together for you to charge it. His brother had posed it as a chance to level-up his “Friendship” with you or some such nonsense. When Sans had attempted to protest, to toss out an excuse, Papyrus had brooked no argument. So here he sits, slouched against the side of his chair, cheek propped in his palm. It was child’s play to throw together a charger for your phone. Couldn't have taken more than an hour and yet here he is, nearly five hours later, still in possession of the device on the pretense of working on it. Considering the fact it’s presently ass o’ clock in the morning, though, you likely won’t come searching him out for another few hours. Which works out for him.

Sans doesn’t plan on telling anyone and he’ll take it to his grave but he absolutely took the opportunity to snoop through your phone. It wasn’t hard, puzzling out how to unlock the device.

He stares at your now fully charged phone, the screen dim.

He had scrolled through the years upon years of photos saved in your library (apparently you never delete anything) and as much of a breach of trust it was, he appreciates the extra insight into who you are. Besides, could anyone really blame him, after what he had seen? He needed answers and sure, he could ask you but he just couldn't get a read on you like he could everyone else. Was it because you didn't have a soul? Or… did you have one? Multiples? Were you even a real person?

He groans and scrubs at his face, bones clacking and clicking upon contact. He still doesn't know how to unpack all of… that. But after sneaking a peek at the device, just a little bit of tension and apprehension about you ebb away at what he had found. 

Photos of a clearly beloved pet (a stupid, hairy white dog; a beast of a hound; a gorgeous, if not derpy, cat; a slithering snake; a trilling bird).

You, smiling with who were undoubtedly your friends.

Pictures of birthdays—yours, your friends’, family’s.

Food, the ocean, an interesting rock formation, a curious number of pictures of garbage (he wants to ask about them but that would give him away).

There are reference pictures. Pictures of art likely saved from the internet of your various fandom interests. They’re sparse, but he stumbles upon a few pieces of himself, of Black, Serif, Ink. A couple of versions of himself he’s not too happy you know about (and hopes you never wind up crossing paths with). That was a bit disorienting, if not unsurprising. You had mentioned how much fan created content exists of them in your world but hearing about a thing and seeing it are two completely different things.

There are thousands of photos and at least a hundred videos. He doesn't look at everything on your phone—that would take far too long—but he is able to glean a significant grasp of your character and interests. And what he finds is… well… He’s not sure how he feels about it. Relieved? Disappointed?

You're completely and utterly normal for a human from an alternate reality. It really makes him wonder why you, how you. The mystery of it all almost makes him want to get back into the science of things, past just trying to figure something out with that malfunctioning hunk of junk in the basement. And it's not like they’ve actually been working all that hard on it lately anyway. They haven't told you, but some of them have been here for years already. Nearly a decade, last he counted. A lot of them have already accepted they're here to stay.

You had been the first new arrival in such a long time. 

They're hesitant to broach this particular subject with you so soon after your appearance. Maybe in a few months’ time, when you've settled into things a bit… then they'll sit you down and explain it.

At least he now knows he’s likely not dealing with some kind of sick freak. You’re a bit weird—and the confrontation has undoubtedly raised so many more questions than answers, he won’t discount that—but harmless.

He resumes tapping out a steady rhythm against the surface of his desk as he lets his mind wander.

For the moment, he doesn't believe you to be a threat. The weirdness with your soul(?) can probably be chalked up to you being from an alternate reality. Perhaps things work differently where you are from? Maybe that's… normal for your people?

Sans lets loose a heavy sigh and sinks atop his desk, arms splayed before him and forehead pressed against the surface.

Why can't he ever just catch a break?

[fraink5-writes]

Human Qualification- Chapter 7

September 19

Chapter 7 is here! This time featuring your favorite, Nakahara Chuuya (obviously)!

As always, thank you to @missmizpah @gracieuxetoile and @deathly-oreos for beta-reading!

Summary: To slowly lose all your functions until you are nothing but a trapped mind in a deteriorated shell, that’s what it means to be ‘No Longer Human.’

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

“I’m sorry, Chuuya,” Dazai muttered inaudibly as he watched an endless supply of enemies filter out from their hiding spots. There were supposed to be less than 30 of them according to Dazai’s intel, yet like a hydra, after the initial body was blown up, they respawned in greater numbers.

“What the fuck is this, Dazai?!” Chuuya gritted his teeth as he pulled out his knife. “I thought you said thirty.”

“I thought there’d be thirty.” Dazai shrugged. In the back of his mind, he ran through all his plans, all his sources, all his conclusions, looking for an error. His shame berated him ceaselessly. But in the front, he couldn’t worry about his mistakes nor his dignity; he pushed those concerns aside to deal with the copious enemies at hand.

One after another, Dazai shot down nameless opponents, but at the gravesite of one, another was born. The endless nightmare zapped the energy out of Dazai rapidly, and as the faces of his enemies blurred so did his vision. His unscathed body ached and weighed down heavily. Even so, he continued to work; the monotony of each kill became another body function.

A jolt brought the dream to an end. A cold blade churned in his back. Dazai whipped around and opened a hole in his attackers skull. Outside of the trickle of blood, he felt the presence of enemies on his spine. He glanced over his shoulder to get a better grasp of the situation, but by that time, the enemy had encircled him. From their ring, knife after knife was thrust at Dazai. Escaping one only lead to another. With his gun, he rapidly eliminated adversaries, yet the circle was constantly closed with reinforcements, and it only grew tighter.

Suddenly, gaps began opening in the ring. Dazai pointed his gun at one of the remaining enemies, finger near the trigger, but his opponent had already fallen to the ground. From behind, a man with bloodied, orange hair and a sharp gaze emerged, holding a crimson knife. Stuck with relief, Dazai fell on his knees.

“What’s the plan? I’ve killed about 20, and you… about 10—”

Only 10? Dazai stared at his feet, counting the pathetic amount of bodies. He was certain he had defended himself against an entire army, but the evidence suggested otherwise. Upon the realization, he was overcome by a defeated exhaustion.

“—There doesn’t seem to be an end to them,” Chuuya grunted as he crushed the skull of an opponent with his foot.

“I don’t know. There’s not much we can do… unless...”

Chuuya, who had been preoccupied with an enemy, snapped back to Dazai. “Oh.” He picked up the enemy and thrown him to the ground, creating a crater. “You fucker!” He shouted at Dazai as he utterly disfigured the corpse’s face.

“We’re out of options. Either way we might die.”

“You can say that because I’m putting my life on the line to save your ass!”

“Thank you.” Dazai exhaled.

“Huh?”

“I won’t let you die.” The brunet forced himself off his knees in order to add some weight to his words.

“Fine,” Chuuya scoffed. “But you better stop me right away. Otherwise, after I kill these fuckers, I’m coming for you.”

“Of course, partner.”

Chuuya snarled again then stepped to the side. Muttering a small comment, he slowly removed his gloves, hands trembling, and let them fall to the ground. With beads of sweat precipitating on his forehead, he inhaled sharply before exhaling slowly. “O grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again!”

Although he had seen it several times, Dazai was always shaken by Chuuya’s transformation. A dark rash had crept over his partner’s body, tainting, but not entirely destroying, his soul. What was left was a killing machine.

In his normal state, one could have perhaps considered the redhead to be a machine—he was extremely powerful and efficient at his job and had unquestioning loyalty. But there was a spirit which powered him—one that stubbornly argued about every plan, one that never refrained from whining about Dazai, one that wore an obnoxiously confident smile with every victory. There was an unpredictable element too, which Dazai had given up on figuring out. This facet always caught Dazai off-guard, whether it was a surprise birthday gift or inexplicable determination to keep the brunet alive. Chuuya was a wild card, and despite the meticulous effort put into his plans, the Mafia Executive received a thrill when Chuuya contradicted them. Chuuya’s unpredictable nature gave him indescribable value.

Using Corruption, Chuuya lost all of that. His soul was replaced with a simple code, one with a virus. Corruption was neither cocky nor high-maintenance. It destroyed with unhuman efficiency, and despite its unruly nature, it was always subject to Dazai’s will. The perfect pawn. Yet, to Dazai, it was worthless, for it was never more than that. It simply obeyed the logic of the situation, which Dazai had already foreseen. There was nothing innovative nor exciting. It bored Dazai immensely.

Not to mention, it was an extraordinarily fragile machine. The rash had consumed most of Chuuya’s face by now, and blood dribbled from his mouth, nose and fingers. The ground at his feet was spotted with craters and littered with the body parts of former adversaries. Those who were still in one piece scrambled to get away, but the darkness inevitably devoured all of them without mercy.

Without a clear opponent, Chuuya was even more directionless than before, shooting black holes at random. Dazai needed to get to him. But the executive’s legs could hardly support his weight, much less walk. He lifted his right leg millimeters off the ground and slogged forward insignificantly. He repeated this process (alternating legs) several times until he crumpled onto his hands and knees and couldn’t lift himself again. As he crawled, his vision faded in and out, so he depended on Chuuya’s hollow laugh for guidance. He weakly grabbed Chuuya’s dangling hand before letting go.

Chuuya fell besides Dazai. He sputtered out blood. “You fucking asshole.” His body shuddered with every cough. “I almost died. Why didn’t you stop me sooner?” Dazai could hear his partner’s chest heaving, desperately expelling the blood from his lungs.

“...I’m sorry,” Dazai barely whispered.

“You better get me back safely, shithead.” Chuuya collapsed next to Dazai. His unconscious body continued to quake even though Corruption was over.

Dazai took Chuuya into his arms, but he couldn’t lift him any further. He couldn’t stand. He couldn’t do anything. He was powerless. He stared with guilt at his helpless partner, wanting to help him, but he couldn’t even save himself. He was completely out of control. Was this what it was like? To completely lose control of your body? To be entirely vulnerable? Was this what Chuuya felt every time he used Corruption? Dazai had always assumed he felt nothing, but at that moment, a deep fear set in along with his realization, one that would cause ceaseless trembling. A fear of powerlessness, of vulnerability, of betrayal by your own body, and of death. But it wasn’t just a fear, it was Dazai’s current reality, one Chuuya must have confronted every time.

Dazai’s brain began glitching and eventually crashed as he fell uselessly next to his partner. I’m sorry, Chuuya...

← Previous All Next →

[linaofthemyscira]

Real Life Encounters

 Pairing: MMA!Jason Todd/Torres x (fem!)Reader

Prompt: what if you met a real life Jason Todd? Amazing right? Here’s how it would go…

Words: 2988

Warnings: asshole creeps, foul language, sexual harassment.

A/N since this is a real life scenario I’m changing Jason’s last name to Torres because 1. If I left at Todd that would just be a little weird 2. I’d like to think Jason is half Latino or comes from Latino descent (maybe the other half is american?) so yeah. I hope you like! 

P.S. it’s not really…an AU…it’s loosely based on @jasontodd-is-alive ‘s “Alternate Careers for the Outlaws”…also i apologize for it not being gender neutral, i’m really trying to get used to using they/them pronouns, and i’ll try to write future oneshots as gender neutral once i get used to it.

Gotham City, New Jersey. What an interesting place your job had taken you. It was oddly eerie how similar it was to Gotham City from the comics. You know, Batman, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl and Red Hood. Tall skyscrapers, a rich business mogul, crime ridden streets. Weird right?

The company you worked for was holding a business trip in Gotham City and it was absolutely mandatory. Hence here you were.

It was your first day in the city and it had been long and strenuous. You decided to get some down time at a bar near your hotel and grab a drink before calling it a night.

You opened the door and went straight for the open barstool near the end of the bar. You sat down and folded your hands across the bar top and waited for the bartender to take your order.

“How can I help you today, miss?” He said with a jersey accent.

“A scotch on the rocks please,” you said and rested your chin in your palm.

“ID, please.”

You took out your ID and gave it to the bartender.

“[state you’re from], eh?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yep.”

He inspected it for no more than 30 seconds and handed it back to you. He left you and began working on your drink. You sighed and put your ID back in your purse, then continued resting your chin in your palm.

As the man to your right left his stool, another guy replaced him. He had a blond buzzcut, tattoos littered his arms and he was wearing a thin white tank top and a pair of army pants. He didn’t look friendly or attractive at all. At least not from your perspective.

“Hey,” he said. You weren’t sure if it was to you or not, so you ignored him. One of your coworkers (and best friend) advised you not to socialize with the locals; they were “weirdos”.

“Hey,” he repeated and this time you turned your head in his direction. He was closer to you than you would have liked, considering you could smell the whiskey from his mouth. He looked your figure up and down once and grinned at you, showing off his gold grill.

“Oh come on…” you thought to yourself.

“Are you talking to me?” You asked him.

“You bet, baby,” he winked. You rolled your eyes in response and turned your head back to the bartender now in front of you serving your drink. You whispered a thank you to him and began sipping the scotch.

“Aw come on, have a little fun,” he slung his arm around you shoulder, “Why don’t I take you home and show you a good time, eh?”

You shivered at his touch, but not in a good way. You stopped sipping and looked at the man who wouldn’t leave you alone. You had two options: politely decline his invitation or stand your ground and tell him off. Either way, he was getting rejected.

As you were making your decision, someone entered the bar, and he wasn’t just a random person. In Gotham, he was quite famous. Girls fawned over him, guys were jealous of him. He had a certain reputation, but that didn’t stop him from walking in the streets like a regular person. It didn’t stop him from going to his favorite bar and getting a late-night drink, only, now he was going to get himself into an interesting situation and he didn’t know it…yet.

You finally made our decision.

“Fuck off, you can show yourself a good time, ass-wipe” you hissed and sipped your drink again. The creep removed his arm from your shoulder and stood up, towering above you, now livid that he was insulted.

“What did you just say to me, bitch?” He growled.

“I said fuck off,” you repeated yourself. At this, the new figure, who was leaned against the wall, watching this play out, raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“You don’t get to tell me to fuck off, you dirty whore,” he grabbed your arm violently and pulled you toward him, your faces inches from each other’s. It took you by surprise and now you were getting just a little bit scared.

“I do what I want,” you whispered with fierce determination. The man raised his hand up, balling it into a fist, ready to “teach you a lesson” until a voice stopped him.

“Hey,” the figure pushed himself off against the wall and sauntered toward you and the creep. You and the man, and the whole bar, looked at the challenger in confusion. He had a brown leather jacket on and a red hoodie underneath. His hood was on, so you couldn’t see his face, but he removed at as he was approaching you, and your heart nearly stopped beating.

The bar patrons began whispering and the creep let go of you. He walked up to the new guy and got in his face. The creep was only an inch or two shorter than the new guy, but he was staring into the new guy’s aquamarine hues tenaciously.

“Torres,” the creep snarled, “what are you doing here? I thought you were famous now.”

“What I can’t come to my favorite bar anymore because of my career? That’s bullshit,” the man named “Torres” replied. His voice made you nearly melt in your seat but you maintained your composure as you watched the stand off.

“Get outta here, this ain’t your bar anymore. Go to those fancy ‘mixers’ you got uptown.” The creep replied. He came back over to you and grabbed your arm again, pulling you close to him and stroking your cheek. You cringed and tried to pull your face away from his hands, but he grabbed your cheeks, puckering your lips.

“Get your hands…off of her…” Torres hissed as he took off his jackets and tossing them on an empty pool table, revealing a gray T-shirt adorning his muscular figure.

“Off of this beaut? I don’t think so,” the creep snickered. He turned your face toward “Torres” so he could he get a good look at his next victim and snaked his other arm around your waist.

“I’m warning you, O’Brien, get your hands off of the girl,” ‘Torres’ said.

O’Brien scoffed, “Or what? You gonna use some of your fancy moves on me? Huh? Try and stop me.” He leaned down and pressed a sickening kiss to your neck, causing you to groan in disgust.

That was all it took for ‘Torres’ to ball up his fists and launch himself at O’Brien, throwing a punch to O’Brien’s jaw. O’Brien let go of you immediately as he was slammed into the bar counter.

You fell to the floor and scooted away from the brawl, with the help of a random girl your age. You stood up and watched in awe as ‘Torres’ began attacking O’Brien with calculated and crisp movements. It looked like martial arts, but you didn’t know which kind. He evaded blows from O’Brien flawlessly and was eventually able to knock O’Brien down to the ground.

He turned to you and locked his eyes with yours, but wasn’t aware that O’Brien had gotten up and pulled out a switch-blade. Your eyes widened and you were about to say something when ‘Torres’ turned around a bit and was slashed across the chest with O’Brien’s knife. He let out a quick grunt of pain and backed away. You took this time to grab an empty beer bottle and quickly ran over and smashed it over O’Brien’s head, then kicked his stomach. With that, O’Brien was out as he crashed to the floor.

You turned to ‘Torres’ and saw him leaning against the counter, holding his chest where the wound was. His gray T-Shirt was quickly turning crimson, so you rushed over to him.

“Are-are you okay?” You asked nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Does it look like it?” He responded while panting. You looked up to the bartender, who had a bewildered expression on his face at what just happened in his bar.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” You asked quickly. He nodded and got a medium-sized clear box from under the counter. He handed it to you and you grabbed “Torres’” hand and pulled him up, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

“Do you mind if I use your break room?” You asked the bartender. He shook his head ‘no’ and you hauled “Torres” past the bar into the cozy break room.

You laid him down on the couch and set the first aid box on the coffee table.

“Take off your shirt,” you ordered. He raised an eyebrow at you as if to say ‘Are you sure about that?’.

“Just do it please,” you ushered him. He began slowly taking off his shirt, but since it wasn’t quick enough, you helped him and threw it to the side.

“Well, this is moving awfully fast, don’t you think?” He remarked wittily, gesturing between you and him. You rolled your eyes and turned back to the first aid kit. When you realized you needed some clean, wet rags, you went back to the bartender and asked for some. When you got what you needed, you returned and began treating his wound.

“Lie down,” you told him.

“You’re bossy,” the man remarked as he laid on the floor against the couch. You closed your eyes and furrowed your eyebrows in frustration but went straight to work, sitting next to him.

You cleaned the blood around the large gash, clearing the area so you could have a better look. Then you applied some antiseptic (because who knows where that knife had been?). Once you realized how bad it was and that you needed to stitch it, you got out the needle and thread from the first aid kit. You turned back to him and (reluctantly) straddled him so you could stitch him up at an easier angle. This caught him by surprise.

“Woah hey, um, I barely know you–” he began.

“I’m just stitching up this wound, relax.” You said, preparing the thread and needle.

“Don’t you think a doctor should do that?” He asked.

“I’m first aid certified and if I don’t, you will bleed out here and die,” you said flatly.

“Fine,” he said and frowned.

“Are you ready?” You asked. He nodded his head and you began stitching his knife cut up. He winced a couple times, but he was familiar with his feeling so it wasn’t too bad.

It gave him time to study you. How your hair fell and framed your face, how your eyes shined in the dim light of the room, how you scrunched your nose in concentration. You were beautiful, he had to admit. There was no doubt about it. So what were you, a beautiful young girl, doing at a small bar in Gotham City?

He was still lost in thought when you finished, so you snapped your fingers to get his attention.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hey,” he responded.

“I’m finished,” you told him. Now would be a good time to introduce himself. He nodded his head and stuck out his right hand.

“I’m Jason.” He said to you. You raised an eyebrow and looked at him. Black hair, blue eyes, chiseled features…why did he seem so…familiar? His name was Jason…his last name was Torres. Could it be…?

“I’m [Y/N]” you said back while crossing your arms, not shaking his hand. Your eyes wandered down to his chest and torso, eyeing his abs, then over to his biceps.

“Do you see something you like?” He smirked, snapping you out of your daze.

“Shut up,” you snapped. You didn’t mean it to sound so cold, it was just a defense mechanism.

“Okay okay, you don’t want to admit it, that’s fine,” he smiled a cheeky smile. It was cute and it made a small smile appear on your lips.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him.

“Better, no thanks to you,” he responded.

“You’re welcome. And thank you,” you said.

“For what?” He asked.

“For taking that creep out,” you stated the obvious.

“Tch, that’s nothing, I do that for a living,” he shrugged it off. You bit your lip and raised an eyebrow.

“You save damsels in distress from creeps for a living? What, am I supposed to pay you now?” You asked sassily. Jason gaped at your clever comment and shook his head in astonishment.

“No, I fight people for a living. I’m an MMA fighter. Jason Torres? Does that not ring a bell?” He countered. You shook your head and shrugged. An MMA fighter, huh?

“Okay, maybe The Red Hood?” He tried again. You almost hit the ceiling. The Red Hood. Jason Todd. It all made sense now. This…this man in front of you was the real life version of one of your favorite comic book characters. And it seemed as if he didn’t even know it. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

“Ahh, there we go, now you know. Now, now, don’t freak out, I’m just a local ‘celebrity’ and I don’t sign body parts if you were wondering,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes again and lightly smacked his shoulder. Seemed to also have the same attitude as his comic counterpart. Same appearance, same personality and almost the same name. But The Red Hood? What’s all that about?

“I don’t want you to sign my boob or anything, and I actually have no idea who you are,” you half lied, “but ‘Red Hood’ just sounds familiar. Why do you refer to yourself as that?”

“It’s a street name slash a ring name. I know that’s some WWE, fake wrestling shit but in Gotham, you have a ring name because you don’t fight for the same reasons they do in the big leagues like UFC. You fight to take the other person out. It’s vicious here. And if they know your real name, they know who you’re connected to and bad things can happen. I even have to wear a mask in the ring too. It’s really tedious but it protects my family,” Jason explained. This was so crazy. A real life Jason Todd in front of you. You never thought this day would come.

“Oh that makes sense,” you comment.

“Ey! Are ya done? Can ya get outta my break room now?” The bartender suddenly materialized at the doorway. “I said you could clean his wound up, not have sex with him on my couch.”

It suddenly dawned on you the position you two were in and how the bartender might have thought that, so you quickly stood up and stepped over Jason’s legs and picked up his shirt.

“I’m sorry, we’ll get out of here in a second. Could you please get his jackets from the pool table?” You asked.

“Sure thing,” the bartender said and left you and Jason alone again. You helped him up and handed him his shirt.

“Sorry about this,” you said.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. O’Brien is a dirty bastard. I hate that motherfucker, it’s not the first time I’ve had to deal with him,” Jason took the shirt and slung it over his shoulder. He had his comic counterpart’s facial expressions and body language down to a T. It was almost scary. You looked up at Jason, who was towering above you and asked him a question.

“How tall are you?”

“Why?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Just answer the question.”

“6’2” he responded. Wait until your group chat gets ahold of this. “What, you got something for guys that are 6’2?”

At this, you looked down and shook your head in slight embarrassment. “Kill me now” you thought.

“Gotcha jackets,” the bartender appeared in the doorway again. He threw Jason’s jacket’s to him and crossed his arms.

“Don’t be havin’ sassy moments back here. You can do that in your own homes, but not in my bar. Got that?” The bartender said and left you alone again. Jason shook his head and chuckled as he zipped up his red hoodie and slipped on his brown leather jacket. He held his gray T-shirt in his big hands and looked at you.

“So can I treat you to a drink?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not happening. I’m not allowing you to pay for me, not after saving my ass,” you said.

“Which is nice by the way,” he added. He was flirting with you and deep down, you liked it. “But I’m buying you a drink anyway.” He pushed past you and back into the bar area. You grabbed the towel and first aid kit and followed him. (O’Brien had been escorted out by the police while you helped Jason).

“No you’re not! No no, I’m buying you a drink!” You protested. You quickly gave the first aid kit back to the bartender and put the rag in the sink.

Jason sat down at an empty barstool and you sat next to him. The bartender, who kept your purse for you while you treated Jason, gave it back to you.

“Anything she orders, it’s on me,” Jason told the bartender.

“And anything he orders, it’s on me,” you piggybacked off of Jason. The bartender looked between the two of you and huffed.

You ordered more drinks and after about an hour of talking to Jason you decided it was time to go home.

Jason walked you back to your hotel, even up to your room.

“So you’re only here for another 6 days?” He asked as he leaned his shoulder against the wall.

“Yup,” you hiccuped.

“That sucks,” he responded. “Hey, I have a fight tomorrow at 7:00. How about you come along and watch me?”

You raised an eyebrow at him and beamed.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

TAGGING:

@just-a-girl-maybe @saltyteengirl @ioczurma @avengerdragoness @crazymangaluv @wynterrobin @dc-hoe @hellomgann1296

[terresdebrumestories]

We were always gonna be forever

✗ TECHNICAL DETAILS

FANDOM: Digimon Adventure 01/02/Tri RATING: General Audiences. WORDCOUNT: 2 431 words PAIRING(S): Taiyama (brand new) CHARACTER(S): Taichi Kamiya & Yamato Ishida, with background cameos from zombies. GENRE: It seemed like the right thing to do. TRIGGER WARNING(S): - SUMMARY: Taichi seems willing to risk his life for the weirdest things. NOTE: I honestly wish I could have done a 10k + fic digging into the how-s and why-s and how much-s of this whle fic (where zombies are, really, more of an excuse than anything else) but alas, I neither have the time nor the energy, so have this instead <3

DIGIOTPWEEK 2017: [Day 1: Coffeeshop AU] [Day 2: Fantasy AU] [Day 3: Profession AU] [Day 4: Mythology AU] [Read on AO3]

“Crap!” Taichi swears once they’ve left the zombies behind them and shoved themselves into an empty alley, “we need to go back!”

He’s patting at the pockets of his ill-fitted cargo shorts, hands growing more restless each times he comes up empty handed, and Yamato’s throat constricts in apprehension.

“Did you lose you Digivice?”

There’s nothing else Yamato would ever consider going back to a compromised zone for, but for this...he’d walk in more dangerous situations than that for a Digivice, no matter whose. There’s the sentimental value, of course—that alone would be enough to make him risk a lot of things for them—but also these things haven’t even begun to lose power after sixteen years of extended use without battery change. They’re the only way they have to help their digimon partners digivolve, act as distress signal, maps and, with a little mastery of the Morse code, communication devices.

They’ve gotten Yamato and the others out of more than one delicate situation, allowed them to rescue Mr. Inoue and Mr. Kido out of a horde of corpses, and generally greatly contributed to their camp’s safety.

Sentiments aside, the Digivices are just too essential to lose.

“Who do you take me for?” Taichi hisses with a look of indignation to make a shier man cower, “Of course I didn’t lose my Digivice!”

“Then what are you making a fuss for? We’re not going back there.”

“But we’ve got to!”

Taichi’s face looks pleading, twisted with distress at the idea of leaving whatever it is behind, but Yamato refuses to be budged. There are at least fifteen corpses in this grocery store. They’re both black and brown with grime and blood as it is, breathing short and heartbeats fast after escaping by the skin of their teeth. Even assuming they survive a second run in the shop, which is a big assumption already, getting this late would mean skipping on their pharmacy run and risking being out of camp at night anyway.

There’s no way Yamato is going to let either of them go back there, especially with Weregarurumon and Greymon stuck at camp to help with the repairs.

“Taichi,” Yamato insists, hoping it’ll be the end of it, “we’re leaving.”

“No!”

They wince at the same time when Taichi’s voice echoes against the buildings on either side of them, the tone of his despair lingering against neatly parked but abandoned cars. It only takes a glance for them to move out of the alleyway, one rattling corpse already moving toward them, and Yamato doesn’t bother repressing a sigh of relief when Taichi moves away from the grocery store and toward the old commercial center their community chose as a base of operation.

They jog rather than run, keeping their strength even as they put some distance between them and danger, slipping into practiced synchronization without needing to think about it. Their hands find each other as they run, the comfort of a familiar gesture easing the knot of fear in Yamato’s guts.

Even through the end of the world, they still have each other, if nothing else.

“We really—” Taichi has to pause so he can gulp more air, sweat drawing lines in the layer of dirt and blood on his forehead before he can finish: “We need to go back. I’ve got to—”

“You’ve got to let go,” Yamato interrupt, waiting until he’s done hissing to breathe in, “I’ll knock you out and put you on my back if I have to but there’s literally nothing in the world I’d be willing to let you risk your life for!”

“But it’s for you!”

Yamato’s too stunned to reply immediately, and the long, plaintive sound of a dying animal punctuates the silence that follows, Taichi’s harsh breathing too loud between them as he tries to get it back to normal. In his chest, Yamato’s heart feels like it’s holding its breath, making itself tiny to leave Yamato’s brain enough space to process the declaration.

“What do you mean, ‘it’s for me’? What was it?”

The emotions warring over Taichi’s face are so intense it’s almost like watching a movie in stop motion: anguish, fear, crimson embarrassment flicker over his features in rapid succession, then something like intense resignation and a deep breath for courage before he says:

“It’s a ring.”

Well. You have to give it to Taichi: he neither stuttered, nor muttered.

Yamato’s brain, on the other hand….

“A what?”

“A ring,” Taichi repeats, face still redder than Koushiro’s hair but head held high, “with your crest on it. Had it custom made and everything.”

There’s Yamato’s what on the what now?

What?

“Why would you even buy me a ring?”

Taichi shrugs, like he’s fully accepted that this is the moment he dies—whether he thinks the cause will be embarrassment or Yamato is still unclear—before he gives a rueful little smile and asks:

“What do people usually buy rings for?”

Oh, okay! There’s something wrong with Yamato’s ears.

Or his brain.

Or maybe the past three months were nothing but a massive set of nightmare, and this is the part where something so weird happens that Yamato wakes up.

“Were you gonna—”

“Yes.”

“Are you—”

“You know me,” Taichi challenges, the red slowly going out of his cheeks, “you tell me if I’m serious.”

Yamato would answer that, he really would! It’s just that his brain doesn’t quite remember how to make his mouth work.

Of course Taichi wouldn’t joke around about proposing, especially not with Yamato. The guy knows what his issues are, how uptight he can be on making words match the exact and real nature of a relationship. Taichi wouldn’t just step all over that with a joke on that topic.

Somehow though, knowing that doesn’t help.

Today should have been an ordinary day, okay? Run into an abandoned store, take what they can carry to help the group survive, run back, try not to get eaten. Rinse and repeat as long as it’s necessary. Instead Yamato is stuck in place in a part of town they’ve got no business in, feeling like a certain bushy-haired someone just drop-kicked him into the Twilight Zone.

“Are you okay?”

Yamato got to the ground, somehow. He can feel the cold of it seeping into his ass, the harsh solidity of a wall with peeling paint at his back. Taichi, crouched down to put their eyes at the same level, has a hand on his shoulder, partly for comfort and partly as a way to keep himself upright.

There’s really no proper answer to that question.

Well. Yamato could go for the familiar route and swear until the static’s gone from his brain. Or, you know, just ask what the fuck is wrong with Taichi.

There’s so much vulnerability in Taichi’s eyes now, an incertitude he rarely ever unveils in front of anyone, Yamato can’t bring himself to do that. Taichi has been the most important person in his life for over sixteen years now, after all, so Yamato knows exactly how much of a gift this level of emotional openness is.

Still….

“We’re not even dating!”

Yamato’s voice pierces at his own ears, too high and strangler to be fully intelligible, but Taichi must get it because he winces, the ‘yeaaaaah, about that….’ written all over the tight tilt of his mouth. At least Yamato isn’t the only one freaking out here.

“I know, it’s stupid,” Taichi apologizes at last, hand moving away from Yamato’s shoulder, “let’s just forget it.”

“Wha—oh no you don’t!”

It’s easy to snatch Taichi’s wrist out of the air and hold it tight, a lifeline as much as a shackle destined to keep him right where he is. It’s an old dynamic between them, this tug of war between their respective brands of emotional constipation and their mutual desire to know what goes on in the other’s head.

It makes it easy to give Taichi a hard stare and warn in a low voice:

“You don’t get to drop a bomb like that and walk away! Start explaining, Yagami.”

Taichi rolls his eyes at that, but his shoulders unwind a little and, to Yamato’s relief, there’s a small smile playing at the edge of his lips.

“Remember when we had dinner with the Russian ambassador?”

“Uh, duh?”

To be fair, it’s Yamato who offered to come along. Taichi was nervous about misstepping or appearing too conciliatory or weak, and since Yamato lived in Russia for a year, he figured a little bit of a cultural bridge couldn’t hurt. It’s not like he minded people thinking he was Taichi’s boyfriend, anyway, so they marked him as a plus one.

Four hours of painfully stiff attempts at polite conversation later, Yamato was about ready to strangle Taichi right then and there if it meant getting out. Also they heard the news about the very first case of Zombie sickness that evening, but it wouldn’t be relevant until the real outbreak three months later.

Anyway. Yes, Yamato does remember.

“You were perfect,” Taichi smiles, as impervious to Yamato’s sarcasm as he ever was, “I swear I’ve heard about you being a perfectly delicious person enough times after that night to last me a lifetime. Your behavior was impeccable through and through.”

“What else was I gonna do? Tap dance on the table?”

Taichi blinks, then snorts at the remark, laughing for longer than the joke truly warrants, but it’s not like Yamato’s about to complain. It’s always been easy for him to make Taichi laugh, but it never got any less rewarding.

“There’s my favorite asshole!” Taichi wheezes after the worst of his laughter has passed, “I missed that.”

“I never stopped—”

“No, I mean...during the meal. At the embassy. Everyone was so charmed and fascinated and I kept thinking it wasn’t you. I wished you’d say something kind of offensive or start making sarcastic quips or whatever. I couldn’t wait until we went home and we’d spend an hour bitching about how ridiculous the thing was.”

The way Taichi’s expression goes from amused to wistful, eyes never leaving Yamato’s before he starts his next sentence is so fascinating, Yamato couldn’t look away even if he tried.

“It took a while before I remembered ‘home’ didn’t mean the same place for both of us.”

Yamato remembers that, too. Not the ‘home’ thing, but he remembers looking at Taichi somewhere just before dessert, hoping for comfort and finding him lost in thought instead, melancholy etched in every inch of his face as he looked down at his hands.

At least now he knows what brought that on.

His voice is more gentle than it normally would be when he asks:

“So you decided proposing was the way to go?”

“To be fair,” Taichi says with a small smile and a helpless shrug, “I did consider offering we shared a flat first, or at least asking you out.”

“Good to know you remember what normal people do.”

Yamato makes sure to squeeze at Taichi’s wrist as he says it, relieved when Taichi’s eyes drift skyward in answer.

“Yes,” he says with the obnoxious patience of one trying to explain something really simple to someone who’s being unusually slow, “I do remember. But I thought about it and I figured...we’re past dating now, aren’t we? I mean. Maybe I’m wrong but...going to restaurants and sitting there like awkward idiots while we ask each other surface-level questions? Really? You already know what I’m looking for in a relationship. I know the things you hate. I know about your messed up brain, and the things that make you cry and everything. So I just—dating’s temporary, you know? And I guess I just…I wanted us to be forever, you know?”

“We were always going to be forever, you idiot.”

Taichi’s mouth goes slack at that, and Yamato snorts as the flush returns to his friend’s cheeks, moisture shining at the corner of his eyes. Taichi wasn’t wrong, with his little speech: they do know each other better than anyone.

They’ve known each other for seventeen years, have been facing death for just as long. They know each other’s ticks and quirks, like how Taichi knows what angles to use to get Yamato to budge out of a position his stubbornness would normally keep him into, or how acutely aware Yamato is that he can leave Taichi gutted with a well-timed bout of emotional straightforwardness.

It’s just as well they care about each other too much to ever intentionally use the other’s weakness to hurt.

“I’ve known that since we first got Omegamon.”

In his more emotional moments, Yamato almost feels like he got his first inkling of it when he realized he could trust Taichi with taking care of Takeru. It wasn’t even a judgment of Taichi’s ability to care for a child, really, more of a statement of Yamato’s ability to trust anyone other than himself.

He’s learned to trust other people since, of course. At least twenty-four of them. It’s just not the same, though. Building Omegamon isn’t like in the fantasy books, where the protagonists get cut open and someone else’s heart is shoved next to their souls, but it does require the knowledge that, should this kind of things happen, it’d be okay.

Yamato would never want what he feels to bush Takeru so closely, for many reasons he couldn’t name if his life depended on it, but with Taichi...yeah. He thinks he could deal with his soul touching Taichi’s.

He’s not sure how to convey that exactly but, lucky for him, he doesn’t have to. Taichi...he’s not always the most emotionally perceptive person in the world, but he gets Yamato in a way no one else does, and they rarely ever have trouble communicating.

Being able to put what he’s feeling in a simple squeeze of his fingers and know he’s been heard is one of the many perks of that.

“So,” Taichi says after a long, pregnant but somehow comfortable silence, “not that I want to ruin the moment or anything but, with regard to what I said….”

On impulse, Yamato leans forward to plant a kiss on Taichi’s cheek, warmth curling in his belly before the words are even out of his mouth.

“I’m sure we can find someone wiling to perform some kind of ceremony.”

Technically, same sex marriages aren’t legal in Japan yet but hey, it’s the zombie apocalypse, and they’ve saved the world three times already.

The law can suck it.

[foxskinxx]

Put My Heart Back Together Part 6

Summary:  Reader isn’t human and when she finally confesses her love to a certain metal armed soldier, her heart breaks (literally) when he doesn’t love her back. Will the reader deal with the dullness she has to endure or will Bucky come to his senses? Soulmate AU?

Warnings: ANGST. FLUFF? CUSSING. some blood. SEX TALK. SHIT GOES DOWN.

Author’s Note: Thank you all! I didn’t think I would get this far. I really hope you like it!

“Miss Y/N, Agent Hart is requesting your presence in the lounge area.” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoed throughout your mothers bedroom as you groaned at the thought of leaving the room. 

“I’m coming.” You agreed to his request, thinking it might be important. You made your way to the bathroom to change into something more presentable. You settled for some leggings and a band tee. You shuffled your way into the hallway outside of your mothers apartment. You squinted your eyes at the bright light, a tale sign that it was night time. You sighed as you made your way to the main kitchen, wondering what Bay needed you for. You looked up from your feet as you made contact with the kitchen doorway. 

“Hey Y/N. I’m glad you came.” Bay held a friendly smile upon his face as he griped my wrist and led me to the couch in the lounge area. You sat on the gray cushion as you threw a puzzled expression to the agent. He chuckled at your confused state and grabbed both of your hands as he looked into your eyes, getting your undivided attention. 

“I really like you Y/N.” Bay made small circles with his thumbs on your hands as he spoke. You smiled softly and nodded to let him continue. 

“I don’t think you understand Y/N,” Unbeknownst to you, Tony had shoved Bucky into the room silently as he set an electric barrier around the kitchen and lounge area. “I am in love with you Y/N.” As Bay said those words you gave him a sad smile. 

“Bay I’m-” Before you could finish your sentence you heard a scoff come from behind the two of you. Bucky rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw. 

“Bucky?” You stood up from your spot as Bay imitated your actions but made no move to release your hands. You began to walk towards the soldier but Bay pulled you back by tugging on your hands, he didn’t like that Bucky cut you off so he was being protective. Right? 

“I should have known Tony would do this.” Bucky sighed as he made his way over the kitchen bar stools and sat down until Tony decided to let him out or until Bucky kills Bay. Either way he wouldn’t leave him in here forever. 

“Anyway Y/N, I know you love me so I’m leaving my wife for you.” At Bay’s confession you wiped your head around with wide eyes and an open jaw. 

“What?!” You were so damn confused by this conversation and it didn’t help that Bucky was siting there. He doesn’t honestly think that you love Bay... does he?

“Bay I don’t love you-” You were interrupted by another one of Bucky’s scoff and this time you were beyond baffled by where this conversation and this situation has led to. You turned your head to Bucky’s direction as you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to think of what you missed along the way. 

“Bucky I-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence again because of Bay’s turn to scoff at your focus on your soulmate. Okay now you were getting really mad. 

“Y/N, baby, don’t pay attention to him.” You didn’t miss the venom in his voice as he misplaced Bucky’s name with a pronoun. You raised your eyebrows as you found your hands glowing a warm orange. You snatched your hands away from Bay’s grasp as you just now noticed he still held onto them. 

“Excuse me?” You were starting to get mad at Bay and this situation. 

“Baby, I know you love me, you said so yourself a couple weeks ago.” You sighed as you raised a hand to your forehand to try and rattle your brain to make sense of all this madness this man was creating before your eyes. 

“Bay you seem to forget that I have a soulmate that I love very dearly.” You tried to reason with the mad man before you as you jutted your hip out to place your hand on it. He laughed as he made his way towards you and placed his hands on your waist. 

“That’s not what you said a few weeks ago, doll.” At the pet name Bucky growled at the agent, warning him to back off.

“Bay if you don’t release me I swear-” Bay shushed you as he smirked at your furious figure. If he didn’t watch his steps, you were going to scorch him. 

“Don’t worry about Bucky and this soulmate crap. You’re with me now, not that thing.” Your hair and eyes turned a bright crimson in a millisecond at the cruel name he called your soulmate. How dare he? You glared into his eyes and you saw him gulp but regained his composure. 

“I mean come on baby, why would you want a monster when you- OH FUCK!” Bay didn’t even finish his fucking sentence before you landed a punch straight to his nose, breaking it as your fist landed on the delicate bone. He hunched over in pain, landing on his knees, groaning in pain as he held his nose. You were fuming, what right did he have? 

“Y/N he isn’t worth i-” You clasped both of your hands together behind his head and pulled his face to meet your knee as you landed a blow to his nose again. Bucky stood to his feet when you made the second assault to Bay’s face. Bucky tried not to laugh at the situation but he was enjoying the show. 

Bay stood up from his position on the ground and stood up to face you with a look of shock on his face. He had blood racing down his nose until it stopped to be soaked up by his t-shirt that began at his collarbones. You had an emotionless expression on your face as you glared at your former friend. You were beyond angry, try livid and that doesn’t even come to being close to how angry you were. No one talks about your Bucky like that. No one. 

“If you ever, and I mean ever talk about my fucking soulmate like that again, I will drag you out of your bed by your hair and tie you to a stake and torch you alive. You and I are not a thing. We never have been and we never will be.” You spoke calmly trying to regain some peace you still had in your brain. Bay decided to push you a little to far and boy he was going to pay for it. 

“That’s not what you said when you were screaming my name, doll.” You froze in your place as your anger took over your motor skills as you jumped onto Bay with your hands glowing orange and you punching him in the face merciless. 

Bucky didn’t know what to do, you were defending him but weren’t you with Bay? Suddenly he saw Y/M/N, Wanda and Tony rush into the room to try and pry you off of the new agent. Bucky saw that you were easily burning your friends and mother off of you so you can continue to murder the man underneath you. He finally snapped out of his trance as he pushed your companions out of the way and wrapped his metal arm around your waist and hoisted you up as the others took Bay to the emergency room. 

“Y/N!” You were trying to get Bucky off of you so you can continue your murderous rampage on the agent. He sat you on the couch as he gripped your shoulders, ignoring the searing pain that shot through his flesh hand. “Y/N, LOOK AT ME DAMNIT!” He shook you as your eyes became the color of fresh shed blood. 

“WHAT?!” You finally snapped your eyes onto the soldier and calmed down a few notches. You were breathing heavy as you stopped struggling against Bucky’s hold and calmed down your racing thoughts. You still held your glare, hoping he would let you go so you can continue your brutal beating on the asshole that insulted your Bucky. 

“You need to calm down and check yourself.” Bucky spoke to you as a superior rather than the love of your life. You huffed and yanked his hands away from you as you let out a dry chuckle. Bucky has never seen you this cold before and it scared him. You turned your poisonous stare to the soldier and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“So I have to nearly beat a man to death for you to actually talk to me?” You crossed your arms over your chest as you remembered that you two weren’t talking. Your stone cold stare turned into hurt when you thought about how much you haven’t seen or talked to your soulmate. He took his gaze anywhere but your eyes as he released a sad sigh. He found his courage and looked you in the eyes. 

“I heard you confess to Bay that you were in love with him.” You furrowed your eyebrows trying to think of a conversation you had with the agent that would come close to that category. You still had some red tint in your hair at the sound of the agents name. Suddenly a light bulb went off in your head as your eyes went wide and you looked at Bucky with an apologetic gaze.

“Bucky, we were reciting our favorite cheesy love quotes from famous movies.” You grabbed his hand in yours as you softly explained what the misunderstanding was. 

“You don’t love Bay then?” 

“If I did, I wouldn’t have almost beaten him to death because he insulted you.” You smiled a shy smile as you thought about your actions you’ll have to answer for. You placed a hand on Bucky’s cheek as you found yourself smiling when he leaned into your touch. Bucky had tears in his eyes as his gray eyes glanced at you. 

“It is physically impossible for me to fall in love with anyone other than my soulmate,” You placed both your palms on his stubble cheeks forcing his gaze on your eyes. “ And I wouldn’t want to. You are my soulmate James and I am yours.” Bucky gave you a smile as his tears cascaded down his cheeks. 

You leaned in close enough to rest your forehead on his as you closed your eyes to relish in his presence. Bucky hummed at the peaceful silence that has embedded the atmosphere around you both. You began to finally feel the events the last few weeks being put behind you as a misunderstanding and thinking about how you can finally have your Bucky back. 

“Doll-” Before Bucky could say another word you placed a feathery kiss on his silk lips for a brief moment, when you pulled back he found himself leaning in a bit to capture your kiss again but you just chuckled at his weak attempt. 

“I only like being your doll.” You explained your interruption as you blushed at his stare on your lips. He gazed back into your lovely eyes as he released a breathy laugh. 

“You’ll always be my doll, doll.” You grinned like an idiot at his sappy confession. You loved moments like this and your stomach started to do back flips as you realized it will be like this from now on. Tony suddenly walked into the room as he crossed his arms and cleared his throat. 

“Y/N, I think you us a ‘thank you’ and maybe a get well soon card to Agent Bay.” You snapped your head in his direction as you glared at the man. Bucky chuckled at your irritated state as he nuzzled his face in your neck while you dealt with the situation at hand. 

“What do you mean?” You spoke threw your teeth, you didn’t want anyone else in the room besides Bucky, otherwise you were going to go on a rampage again. You were confused why you need to thank the three musketeers and you certainly wondered why the fuck you need to give anything to Bay. 

“Everything was a set up. We trapped you three in the room to make Bucky jealous. But it didn’t turn out that way but it did work out.” Tony stood with a proud smirk plastered on his face while the two other women were no where to be seen, they didn’t want to be on your kill list anytime soon. You tried to stand up from Bucky’s hold but ultimately he decided to wrap his arms around your waist and walk with you to scold the Iron Man. You got about a couple feet away from him when you glared at the old man and pointed your finger at him.

“You mean to tell me, you knew why Bucky and I weren’t on good terms. So instead of coming to us and let us settle it like adults, you got Bay involved and let him say all those awful things about my Bucky. On top of that you got me furious enough to nearly beat the man to death? Is that what you are telling me Stark?” Your hair had gotten crimson again and your gaze didn’t not falter as you accused the man of pulling this dumb plan. 

“Uh no?” Tony was becoming very nervous under your accusations and your angry tone. He gulped as he took a slow steps back until he was at the exit then he turned on his heal as he bolted causing Bucky to laugh into your neck. 

You mumbled, “I’ll get him later.” You turned around and snuggled into Bucky’s hold as you sighed contently. You made to pull away when you heard Tony yell in your direction from the elevator, “I’m sorry!” You rolled your eyes at his childish attempt to apologize. 

“Better watch your back Stark before I roast you alive!” You shouted in his general direction as you heard Bucky give another laugh at your frustration. You turned to playfully glare at Bucky and smirk when you saw his beautiful smile. 

“God, I love you doll.” 

“Y/N?” After Bucky said those three alluring words your breathing stopped and you felt a tightness in your chest as you began to open your mouth but no air came in. Your eyes were darting in every direction, your chest was burning, and you felt lightheaded. What the fuck is going on? You couldn’t comprehend the situation and that made you freak out more. 

“Y/N! Doll listen to me, focus on me.” Your eyes finally land on Bucky’s beautiful gray ones as you realized that you were on your knees with Bucky directly in front of you. Your face was red from the lack of oxygen and Bucky was freaking out. He blew some air in your face and you involuntary sucked in a deep breath of air. The relief showed on Bucky’s face as you manged to breath correctly and keep it that way until you felt like you could talk. 

“Doll?” 

“It’s not... bro-” You were stuttering at your realization of why you went into shock.

“What?”

“My heart Bucky..” Bucky’s eyes went wide as you allowed that part of your body to glow a radiant orange. Your skin became transparent as you both watched the last few remaining pieces be put back together and then all at once. You grunted as it finally reattached itself and you could feel everything fall back into place. You started to cry as you found a smile etched on your face finally feeling full again. You cupped Bucky’s face as you kissed his shocked expression away. You laughed into the kiss as Bucky’s smile came out for you to see. 

“Thank you Bucky.”  You looked into Bucky’s eyes as you were still close enough to kiss him again. Your lip was quivering and your eyes didn’t stop producing salty tears that fled down your cheekbones. At your words Bucky pulled back a little to look you at you curiously and cup your face into his rough hands. 

“No thank you Y/N, for loving me and giving me a second chance.” He leaned his forehead on your yours as you both sniffled and continued to bask in the love both your bodies radiated.  Bucky eventually scoped you up into his arms as you wrapped your leg around his waist and your hands around his neck as you snuggled into him. 

He gently opened your door to your apartment in the tower and headed for your bedroom. You were very worn out from your previous events and you were struggling to keep your eyes open, too much happened at once today. Bucky pulled back your comforter and bent at a 90 degree angle to lay you down but you didn’t let go of him as you dangled above the bed with Bucky smirking at your child like behavior. You managed to pull him with you and he landed on you with a grunt. 

“Stay.” You wanted to be by his side as long as possible. He untangled himself from your limbs as you pouted and turned on your side to face the wall. You felt the bed dip and when you felt him settle under the covers you slid to the middle of the bed and cuddled into him. He smiled at your eagerness to be close to him and grabbed the back of your left leg and slung it over his hip so you were closer to him. You smiled as you found yourself barely able to keep your eyes open and you snuggled into the crook of his neck, deciding that is your favorite spot to rest on. You placed your palm on his broad chest as the other laid under Bucky’s head. 

“I love you Bucky.” You barely whispered as you found yourself drifting into dreamland with Bucky by your side. Before you were consumed to complete and total sleep you felt Bucky’s grip tighten with his metal arm on your waist and his lips on your forehead. 

“I love you too doll.” Those were the last words you heard before you finally let sleep take over you. You fell asleep with a fluttering heart and a smile on your face as you slept tangled with the love of your life. 

@mayfeather27 @theloveablesociopath @krimzenrayne

[kacchanns]

[Fic] Change Isn’t Always Bad

My first BNHA fic!! I hope it's not too horrible or anything orz. This was written for BNHA Fest, for the Bakugou/Midoriya prompt, "acceptance; change isn’t always bad.” (yeah I was lazy with the fic title, oh well) It takes place sometime in the near future, where All For One has somehow gotten out of prison. That's about as much backstory as you need.

It was in that moment that Katsuki seemed to realize just how much had changed. And he also realized that he didn’t seem to mind it.

“Deku,” he declared. It wasn’t the name of a useless little boy anymore, but the name of a Hero. “Kick his ass.”

Read on AO3

The faceless man stood there as calm and collected as ever, waiting for Katsuki to regain his footing. The air he put off reeked of over-confidence, and the obvious lack of effort he was expending sent Katsuki’s blood into a boil.

Underestimating me, the piece of shit, Katsuki seethed to himself. Tiny pricks of discharge laced his palms and the teen welcomed the familiar warmth against his skin as he took off towards his adversary yet again. There was the slightest sag in the man’s shoulders when the boy advanced on him, but he readied himself against the impending attack.

As Katsuki drew nearer, he pulled his right arm back to prepare to swing but, instead of throwing it forward to connect, he set off an explosion right in front of All For One and then spread his left palm out towards the ground. As the smoke engulfed them, Katsuki blasted himself up into the air, from where he caught a glimpse of All For One’s bald head within the fog.

A glimpse was all he needed, for within the next second he shot off another explosion towards the sky and rocketed back down towards the cloud, rearing back his arm and sparking up yet another blast in his palm. A shout of indignation tore from his lips.

Just as he was entering the smoke, and just as he was swinging his fist forward, a hand shot out to grab his attacking arm. His momentum was snapped to a stop and the detonation died in his hand. There was a loud pop and Katsuki cried out, but quickly gathered himself and prepared to shove an explosion in All For One’s face.

“Motherfucker!” he screamed, and smoke enveloped them again with the newest eruption from Katsuki’s Quirk. The grip on his arm released, but the blonde was given no time to retreat, for before he had even dropped to the ground a leg like steel rammed into his stomach and sent him flying out of the smoke cloud. He hit the gravelly ground unforgivably hard, bounced and rolled a few times, and then came skidding to a stop. Blood dripped onto the ground from where it leaked from a wound on his head, staining a portion of his ashy blonde hair a deep crimson. His body convulsed and began trying to gulp in oxygen, but his lungs felt like they had been crushed.

All For One lowered his leg to the ground and dispersed the remaining cloud of smoke with a wave of his arm. He could hear Katsuki’s coughing fit and labored breathing and could tell that the boy was several dozen meters away from him now. Sensing where he was located, All For One began walking in his direction.

“This could have all been avoided, you know,” he announced, his feet crunching against the gravel beneath them. “You could have been such a great tool for Tomura.”

“Shut… the fuck… up,” Katsuki wheezed as he shakily pushed himself onto his knees and elbows. Immediately he took all weight off his right arm, sucking in through his teeth. Loosely, he tried rolling his shoulder, only to stop before hardly even moving it. Dislocated. He groaned but continued pushing himself up with his left arm.

His entire body was aching, his stomach and chest feeling as though they had been busted in, and it was still difficult for him to take in breath. The overbearing pain that shot through his chest with every little movement told him that there were definitely a few broken ribs. As he sat up on his knees and feebly held onto his right shoulder, he directed his glare towards the approaching All For One. The sight of his undamaged self made Katsuki’s teeth gnash together hard enough to hurt.

“I’m not doing this because I dislike you,” the man continued, coming to a stop a few meters away from where Katsuki knelt. “I want the best for Tomura, I’m sure you understand.”

Snorting, Katsuki moved his arm to wipe away the bile coating his lips. “Complimenting me will get you nowhere, fuckface,” he growled. All For One chuckled under his breath.

“What will you do, Bakugou? You have unprecedented skill, but with that personality of yours, do you really think you’ll make it as a Hero? You think people will praise you and want to be saved by you when you’re so temperamental?”

“It doesn’t matter what people think of me, as long as I’m there to save them,” Katsuki responded coolly, subtly trying to get back to his feet but instead leaning forward and coughing up more blood. He clenched his teeth and lifted his head, staring directly at the massive scar covering All For One’s face, right where his eyes would be if he still had any. “And I will save them,” he continued, undeterred. “Every last damn one of them. Because I won’t lose, no matter what! I will become the best Hero, and I’ll make sure that assholes like you know not to challenge me!” A fire sparked in Katsuki’s eyes, and a large grin split across his face. “I’ll rise to the top faster than anyone ever has, and I’ll show the world what I’m fucking capable of!”

A small smile lifted the corners of All For One’s lips as he listened to Katsuki’s declaration. When the boy was done, All For One began walking forward again, sharp black claws embedded with skinny white ridges growing from the skin of his fingers.

“You have a will stronger than your outward appearance would suggest,” the man said calmly. “I must admit it’s admirable. Though I wonder…”

All For One stopped directly in front of Katsuki, looming over him with a sense of menace so palpable that the teenager felt like he would drown in it. All For One’s hand was outreached and the black claws growing into vein-like appendages from his fingers before Katsuki could prepare an explosion.

“Just how long will it be until you become one of Tomura’s pawns?” All For One mused, reaching out.

The green blur that shot onto the scene was almost unable to be seen. All Katsuki was aware of was that one moment All For One was standing in front of him, reaching those long dark extremities towards him, and then the next a shockwave rippled through the ground and All For One was replaced with a giant dust cloud and Katsuki was blown backwards. Gravel was sent flying everywhere and, once he regained his bearings, Katsuki lifted his arms to shield his face.

After the initial attack, everything went still save for the swirling dust cloud. Lying on his side now, propped up on his good elbow, Katsuki tried to peer into the haze. After a few moments, a figure started to come into view. A significantly smaller figure than All For One. And as the dust continued to clear, an unruly mop of green hair became visible, and Katsuki felt a pang of relief wash over him involuntarily.

In the past, Katsuki would have been angry to see his childhood friend there, and lashed out at him to leave All For One to him. He would have screamed about not needing to be saved or helped in any way. Perhaps even thrown the idiot out of there himself.

But in that moment, with the fear of All For One reaching out towards him still fresh in his mind, Katsuki wasn’t angry at all. Despite the overwhelming pain he was still in, a smirk found its way onto his face.

“Took you long enough, dumbass,” he said almost fondly.

Izuku turned to look at him, revealing the fire of his eyes and the set of his jaw. Once he met sights with the blonde however, his expression softened to a mix of concern and relief. The satisfied smirk on his friend’s face eased some of Izuku’s worry, and he offered a small smile in return as he turned to begin walking over to the injured boy.

“Sorry,” he murmured, kneeling down to where Katsuki lay. His uneasiness resurfaced once he got a closer look at the blonde’s injuries.

“Oi, you better not be underestimating me, shithead,” Katsuki told him sternly, immediately sensing the distress in the other boy. “This is nothing for me.” His sudden wince and the tightening of his teeth seemed to betray his words, but his vehement gaze did not falter. Izuku looked into his impassioned red eyes and found certain confidence there.

“Well, well, that was quite abrupt,” a familiarly composed voice said from a distance. Izuku twirled around and immediately took a defensive stance in front of Katsuki, who simply clicked his tongue in aggravation. Other than an apparently sore neck, which he was rubbing and stretching as he made his way to his feet, All For One seemed to be relatively uninjured from Izuku’s attack. “I wasn’t expecting you to show up here… Midoriya Izuku.”

“You were wrong not to,” Izuku responded, his voice strong and unwavering. He lifted his fists as streaks of electricity began skipping around his frame. “I won’t let you hurt Kacchan anymore.”

In the past, this simple statement would have enraged Katsuki. He didn’t need Deku of all people to stand up for and defend him. He didn’t need his fight to be fought for him. He didn’t need to be protected. He didn’t need to be saved, dammit!

But this was not the past, and this was certainly not a fight Katsuki could win on his own. As he gazed up at Izuku’s unshakeable stance and drunk in the determination permeating from his being, Katsuki was overwhelmed with a feeling of assurance and fortitude. Something inside of him was telling him that he could undoubtedly rely on this boy, the very boy he had spent almost his entire life belittling and demeaning. The very boy he was so sure was beneath him and couldn’t handle any real adversity or challenge. The very boy he had convinced himself was useless.

It was in that moment that Katsuki seemed to realize just how much had changed. And he also realized that he didn’t seem to mind it.

“Deku,” he declared. It wasn’t the name of a useless little boy anymore, but the name of a Hero. “Kick his ass.”

The corners of Izuku’s mouth turned up and his fists tightened, the little skips of electricity surrounding his body becoming powerful surges of lightning. The emerald of his eyes gleamed with resolve as he stared at the darkness before him. With Katsuki’s support pushing him forward, Izuku felt invincible.

“I will,” he said, the conviction in his voice so thick and adamant it rivaled that of All Might.

Katsuki watched as Izuku launched across the distance between them and All For One and clashed with the Villain in a burst of power. And the grin never left his face.