#me in the corner shakily sitting there after i just got back from smoking 3 cigs in 5 mins avoiding the eyes

[fagrights]

i keep retrying outpatient programs at my local treatment center and every year like clockwork i realize that i hate every thing about it so much

[1engele]

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 3. frogger

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[warnings: cursing, smoking, light violence, blood]

"i don't want to be friends. i want all of you."

—

"Can I get your number?"

You and Larry both whip around to face Sal, the person who'd spoken that sentence. You're stood at the foot of Addison's Apartments.

"What?" You blink. "Me? My what?"

You assume Sal mirrors your nonplussed expression because he bats his eyes just as startled as you did. "Uh- your phone number. So we can be in touch easier. You know, for school and stuff."

Eager anxiousness in the form of butterflies batted their wings in your gut and your ribs. You reached into your back pocket, flipped your flip-phone open, and handed it toward the blue-haired boy. "Here," you blurted. "Put it in there." You gloss your eyes toward Larry. For some apparent reason, he's wearing a wide, shit-eating grin.

"You can put yours in too if you want."

He waves a tan hand. Your attention is on Larry, but it somehow drifts and you're glancing toward Sal. His veiny hands are jerking which each movement of his thumbs as he presses numbers on the keypad.

"No, that's okay," Larry replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'll get it off of Sal."

"Here," Sal holds the flip phone out to you. It's small in his hand.

He has long fingers, you thought.

"Oh, thanks." Your fingers brush his as you reclaim your phone and return it to it's place in your back pocket.

Your heart is beating unnecessarily loud by the time they've walked you to your apartment. Your hands are in your coat pockets to conceal the mild trembling in your hands. You're almost nervous that they can hear the rushing of your blood as your heart rapidly pumps it through your body—because you know you certainly can.

"I had fun today," you smiled, your expression nothing but sincerity. "Thanks for everything. I appreciate it."

Larry grins. "That's cute. No need to thank us, alright?"

You twitch the corner of your lips upward and nod towards him.

Sal tucks a strand of blue hair behind his ear—you'll never get used to the color. In a good way. You could look at it for hours—and fiddles with his backpack strap. "See you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," you respond, your teeth making an appearance. "Goodnight, you guys."

With that, you're inside of your apartment and shutting the door behind you. You hear their muffled voices and unintelligible words through the wall as they retreat from your door and towards the elevator.

You drop your bag at the door and make haste to your room. You sit on the side of your bed and hurriedly open your phone.

The first phone number you'd ever had—save your mother, which doesn't count— was "c you tomorrow :)", sitting right beneath "Mom" on the contact list. After changing his name to "Sal :)" you breathed out shakily, and slowly pushed enter on his contact.

Should you send him something? Isn't that a bit weird? You'd just seen him a few minutes ago. Should you wait a little longer? What if he's still with Larry, and they see what you'd sent a message so quickly and make fun of you?

You shake your head. That was unlikely. All they'd been was great to you.

"c you tmrw."

You inwardly linger over the thought of pressing the send button.

Why the fuck were you so nervous, anyway? Because a boy with nice hands and a pretty laugh said he'd see you tomorrow?

Yeah.. okay, maybe that was it.

"c you tmrw." The message was sent.

You slapped a hand over your face. Should you have said something else? Should you just have not texted him at all? You fell back into the mattress, draping your arm over your face and blinking into your wrist. The feeling of exhilarated dread churned in your gut.

A subtle vibration reverberated on the comforter. It buzzed in your ears momentarily. You paused, before lurching upward and snatching the phone back into your grasp.

"you too. let's try not to rouse mrs. packerton's suspicions tomorrow like we did today lol."

You grinned, and replied before you could stop yourself. "might not be possible. you may need to answer another math question for me."

Sal replied after a pause. "can't say no to that. goodnight, y/n"

You breathed out slowly, typed out a goodnight message, and slowly dropped your hands back down to the comforter.

Your fingers shook and your heart was beating itself against your rib cage. Not long after, you dozed off into sleep thinking of the way your body felt when the warmth of his palm was flush against the nape of your neck.

Getting up the next day is a bit harder than getting up the previous one. You couldn't seem to rub the sleep away from your eyes, and, for some reason or another—you'd waken up in a cold sweat, and your sheets stuck to your body. Not only that, when you'd went to shower, the water was freezing, for no apparent reason. You'd come to terms with the fact that this building had multiple personalities.

Standing beneath the shower head felt like being pricked with itty-bitty pitchforks. Topped with miniature ice cubes.

You'd gotten dressed in an oversized black sweater (over a long-sleeved, black top for added warmth), along with an a-lined plaid emerald green and blue skirt on top of your sheer black tights. The skirt was not short—not amongst your standards, it was mid-thigh—but nowadays teachers were weird about how girls dressed so you'd have to keep an eye out about that.

Also, surprisingly—instead of the usual beat up and raggedy sneakers you usually wore you decided on some of your chunky Mary Janes you'd thrifted not long back. You'd never given them a go outside before. The only time they'd been worn was in your room and by yourself.

When you were fully dressed, you let yourself examine your outfit in the mirror. While doing so, your phone chimes in your hand. You snap it open hastily and read the notification.

"it's larry. sal gave me your number :P meet us outside when ur ready"

You grinned and walked out of your room. You grabbed your bag and made for the door. When you'd gotten outside, what greeted you there was not exactly what you'd expected.

"Oh! Ashley, is this yours?" You inquired, gazing over the pale silver Ford Fiesta that sat in the driveway. It was a cute car. Ash sat in the driver's seat with the window down and her forest green eyes attentive and on you.

"Yeah! My little brother had an allergic reaction while eating out at some big corporate food chain and we got it in compensation. We already have a family car so it was given to me."

What a nice story, you thought, making sure you maintained your pleasant expression.

"Oh," you passed your gaze over the vehicle again. "Cool!"

You noted Todd's place in the passenger seat. You met his eye and gently waved. He returned the wave, with that neutral look on his face he always seemed to have.

"You're going to be cold," a voice behind you says rather abruptly. You jump, whirling around.

"You scared me," you laughed, your face burning as you made eye contact with none other than Sal Fisher. "What do you mean?"

"Your skirt," he replies, glancing away momentarily. Your eyebrows raise comically.

"You don't like it?"

"No-" he rushes out, a bit too fast. "Uh, no. It's g- it's nice. I meant you're going to be cold in it."

He was right. It was nearing the end of August.

You pass your eyes over your legs, from the a-lined skirt, the sheer black tights, and the chunky Mary Janes. You return your gaze to his—not before catching a glinting glimpse of what seemed to be rings adorning his fingers—and shrugged.

"Oh well. All I'm worried about is being dress coded," you look to Larry, who's near Sal. "Good morning."

"You too," he grins. "Let's get in the car. It's chilly."

You all clamber into the backseat. You're in between Sal and Larry. Hot air blew from the car vents and hit you in the face as Ashley turned the temperature up further. While doing that, she turns on the radio and channel surfs until she's found some sort of soft rock station. She turns it up to a moderate volume.

A car freshener in the shape of a red tree dangled from the rearview mirror and swayed as Ashley put the car in reverse and pulled out of the driveway. It had a charming illustration of what resembled two strawberries on the front.

The car smelled nostalgic—like the smell of the hair on one of those Strawberry Shortcake dolls you owned as a child.

The wistful scent is abruptly overpowered by the smell of smoke and the autumn air. Larry had rolled a window down and had just lit a cigarette to your left. On your right, Sal has pulled out his flip phone and is playing some sort of shit quality version of Frogger.

Interested, you lean over.

"How'd you get that on there?"

He looks over at you. He's close. You can hear him slowly inhaling and exhaling through his nose. "Todd did it for me," Sal replies. He gestures toward you with the phone. The phone makes a sound. The digital frog had fallen into the water. "Wanna play?"

"Oh," you pause, and smile. "I like watching you."

His eyes flicker over your face. "Okay."

He returned to the game. Finally, you had an excuse to stare down at his hands. Multiple silver and black rings adorned his hands. They fit him perfectly—snug on his pretty fingers and accenting his veiny hands perfectly.

During your examination, you hadn't exactly realized it but your cheek was now flush against his shoulder and your hair was tickling his neck.

No, you weren't smelling him, but it was hard not to scent it when you inhaled through your nose. He smelled of delicate laundry detergent—fresh, clean—and of minty vanilla. Breathing that in made you feel what was probably the most at home you'd felt in months.

You glanced up from his hands, to his Adam's apple, to his prosthetic face—his gaze remained attentive on the flip phone, dark lashes moving along to accommodate his flickering eyes. You looked away before he'd noticed, and paid attention to the game.

"You're good," you commented.

He didn't reply immediately, almost as if he'd looked over at you. The side of your face remained on his shoulder and your hair still brushed against the skin on his neck.

"Well, it's only Frogger," he remarked. "I bet you're better. Try it."

The sudden scent of ashy smoke consumed your senses. Larry must have exhaled halfway inside of the car. The vapor floated for a moment before dissipating into nothing.

You took the phone from Sal's hands and shifted in your seat to sit straight up. You pressed play on the game, and within seconds your frog had fallen into the water.

"I suck."

"No, you don't. You're just not trying hard enough."

"Potato, Potahto," you reply, shortly laughing at yourself and pressing play again nonetheless.

Suddenly, the vehicle slammed to a halt. You held onto the phone tight in one hand and steadied yourself on the passenger seat in front of you with your other one.

Sal seemed to have the same idea, except he seemed to panic and had braced yourself on your knee instead. You could have sworn you saw white for a split second, your insides jumping and chills fluttering down your spine. He quickly retracted his touch, catching your eye immediately.

"Sorry," Sal uttered.

"That's okay," you'd done a fine job gathering yourself together. "Perfectly fine."

"Jesus Christ, Ash! What the hell was that?" Larry calls from your left, the cigarette between his pointer and middle fingers. He was halfway through exhaling his smoke when he spoke again. Vapor spilled from his lips as he stared at the front of the vehicle. "Trying to kill us?"

"Whoops! Sorry guys, I almost missed the red light."

"That wasn't very wise," Todd remarked from the passenger seat, turning his head to look at Ash. You couldn't help but shortly giggle, looking back down at Sal's phone.

You heard Sal slowly exhale a breath of relief beside you.

"Yeah, anything but fucking wise," Larry scoffed. "Thought I was about to die, dude."

"I said I was sorry," you could hear the roll of Ashley's eyes in her voice. "My parents would kill me if I got a ticket. Also, who told you that you could smoke in my car?"

"I did." In your peripheral vision, he was staring blankly. "What're you going to do about it?"

In the rearview mirror, Ashley squinted her eyes but said nothing.

"This is a shit show," Sal murmured, looking back to his phone in your hands. You'd returned to the game, still attempting at getting past the first level. The digital frog continuously leaped over lily pads and logs. It was almost therapeutic.

"Sorry you don't want me back here, Sal." Larry's tone had transformed from mildly annoyed to slightly bitter. His cigarette had been held unattended for a decent amount of time so it had begun to burn out. "I didn't ask to third wheel."

You blinked and convinced yourself you'd heard him wrong.

You weren't looking at Sal's face. He was silent for a few seconds.

"Just chill out, alright?"

"I'll say what I want."

"It's too early for this, Larry," Sal bit out. "Cut it the fuck out."

Your heart pumped furiously.

"Where do you want to take this, Sal?"

Ashley jumped in incredibly quick, the car jerking as she turned the wheel abruptly, pulling the vehicle into the school's parking lot. "Fuck no. What the fuck are you thinking, Larry? Going to fight Sal because you're in a pissy mood?"

"I'm not going to fucking fight him, Ashley," He shook his head. "It's just- apparently he's got some kind of vendetta against me today so I guess we could talk somewhere else-"

"That's in your head, Larry," Sal said honestly. "I don't know what makes you think I have something against you today, but I don't. I don't know how you want me to prove that to you."

Larry settles into silence as Ashley pulls the Ford Fiesta into a parking space.

"Just- put the cigarette out and calm down, okay?"

It didn't look like the smoke had much left in it, but Larry still drew one last hit out of it before he stepped out of the car and crushed it beneath his shoe. He throws his bag over his shoulder and slams the car door behind him.

You look over at Sal, who was reaching for the door handle. Ashley and Todd had already exited the vehicle, and Ashley was standing by and waiting for you both to get out so she could lock the car.

"Hey," you murmured before he could leave. The blue-haired boy turned his head and inquired you with raised eyebrows. "Try to be patient with him, when you two talk it out. I haven't known him long—but I can tell he's the sort of person that wouldn't act like that unless something's bothering him."

Sal looks down at you thoughtfully, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. You hear him swallow thickly. "Yeah," he muttered. "He is that type of person. I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

With that, you both exit the vehicle and Ashley locks the car. Todd and Larry had already walked up a measured distance ahead of the three of you.

"Do you know what that might have been about?" Ashley asks, directing the question toward Sal by holding eye contact with him. You walk to Sal's left, looking ahead as to not be intrusive on the conversation.

"Uh.." he trails off. A cool breeze filters past your face and legs and it makes you shiver. "Not really. Usually, it's about his mom. Whenever they've argued about something, it puts him in a bad mood."

Ashley seems to give herself a moment to reply.

"Anything else?"

Sal does the same.

"Not that I know of."

Your eyebrows twitch downward.

Ashley walks slightly ahead of the two of you. She calls your name, and you look up from the ground, startled. "How are you liking the apartments? Anytime I've been there, they're kind of creepy."

You giggle. "Yeah. You could say that. I'd say they're alright—it gets kind of cold. The water was fucking ice cold today. Could barely shower."

Ashley mirrors your laughter. "Anything else?"

You pause. "Larry has this really great treehouse. I don't know if you've been, but it's honestly pretty cool. It's homey."

She looks up to Sal in surprise. "She's already been? When did you guys show her?"

He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. "Uh, well, we didn't necessarily show her.."

Ashley looks at you curiously. You sarcastically pout towards Sal, finding his eyes to be twinkling with amusement. "I may have broken into it."

"Oh, you didn't break into it," Sal protests, exhaling sharply through his nose in a gentle chuckle. "You just didn't realize it was inhabited."

You look towards Ashley. "Long story short—I found a cool treehouse. Thought it was abandoned. Climbed into it. Coincidentally, Sal and Larry climbed into the treehouse while I was in it. It was embarrassing."

"It wasn't. It was funny," You could hear Sal's grin. "She smoked for the first time that day."

Ashley's jaw dropped in faux-astonishment. "You've tainted her innocence."

You smile. "It was honestly kind of horrible at first."

Before you knew it, the three of you had entered the school. After a few more minutes of banter and friendly conversation, you and Sal parted ways from Ashley to head towards your first class of the day: math.

Once again, Mrs. Packerton had given the class a math sheet. For god knows why she expected you to know all of these things off of the bat and get all of the questions right with barely any assistance. You were stuck on one problem like it always went.

Someone nudged your arm. You looked to your left and smiled at who was looking at you. He glanced down at your paper. "The answer's-"

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Mr. Fisher?"

Fuck, you thought, slowly looking up to your elderly teacher. Glancing over to Sal, his eyebrows were raised and he peered up at the woman at the front of the classroom with something akin to surprise in his eyes. "Uh-"

Before he could explain himself, Mrs. Packerton's entire facade did a 180 and her eyebrows were suddenly furrowed and her frown was deep-set. It was almost comical, and you strained to keep the laugh in. You weren't looking to break a rib, so you unfortunately giggled beneath your breath.

Her dark brown eyes slid over to you. After a moment of being examined and feeling extremely uncomfortable, she sighed.

"I'm administering detention for both of you, after school. I will let you finish the test, but next time this happens it'll be an immediate fail for both of you. Understood?”

You and Sal exchange both equally supposed expressions, before nodding together.

Before class is over, you see Travis giving Sal another sour look. Oh my god, you thought, twirling your pencil around in between your fingers. Is this going to have to be another talk, Travis?

The bell rang. You and Sal jumped up and fled the class as quickly as you could.

"Oh my god," he breathed, as you both stepped into the hallway and began maneuvering through the countless amount of students flooding the halls. "She's super fucking scary. I was so wrong."

You abruptly laugh. "Yeah. She's got that look in her eye." You pause. "I'm sorry, Sal. You wouldn't be getting a detention if it wasn't for me."

Sal tilts his head just slightly. "It's no big deal. It was my fault, anyway. It's not like you asked for my help either times I helped you out. It's not like my dad's going to be mad, anyway—he'll probably be relieved. I've never really got detention for anything, especially involving talking to another person. Probably'll be glad I'm being more social, haha."

You frown. "I'm still sorry."

"I appreciate it, but you don't have to be-"

"If only your friend wasn't so dumb, Sally Face. It's a shame that your perfect record is all tarnished."

Sal appears as though he knew who was talking a few words in. He inhales, turns around to face the blond boy behind him, and backs up a step. "What do you want, Travis?"

Your fingernails sink into your palms. It stings. You told him yesterday!

"Nothing. Just wanna know why she's so stupid."

Sal's eyes flicker. "Mm, think you're forgetting about how close you were to failing mid-terms last year. You're not very bright yourself."

Travis grows a bit red but he looks as though he's trying to ignore his growing frustration. It boggled you—the fact he was so easy to anger because of the fact Sal was defending himself. Defending.. you?

"Whatever. Why am I fucking arguing with a fucking satan worshipper, anyway?"

That genuinely surprised you. What kind of insult was that? And where did it come from?

"Whatever, Travis. God doesn't like bullies, either. I hope you don't kiss your daddy with that mouth-"

You're glad the hall is relatively empty because the crack you hear when Travis' fist meets Sal's prosthetic face is loud and startling. Your heart is in your throat. You place your hands on Travis' chest and push him into the lockers. The metal cages rattle beneath the sudden weight.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you?" You shout, red hot anger coursing through your body and pumping through your veins. "Get the fuck away. I swear to god, I'll-"

Sal murmurs your name, gripping your wrist. "Stop. Don't push him."

You give Travis the bitchiest expression you can muster. He scoffs and walks away. You're surprised he didn't throw one last insult into the air—but he instead walked down the hall with heavy footing, turned around the corner, and disappeared.

As soon as you're done watching him down the hall, you whip around to Sal with wide eyes. He was cupping the place where the mask cut off, collecting blood that dripped down.

"He's got a mean right hook," Sal breathily laughed.

The rage you currently felt made your head hurt. You quickly grabbed him by the wrist and hurried him towards the restrooms at the opposite side of the hall. On your way, the bell rings. You couldn't care less whether or not you were going to miss your class—it's not like you didn't have detention already.

"Hey, what're you-"

You pull him into the girl's bathroom, which was empty. You make sure to turn him away from the entrance. His eyes are as wide as two dinner plates.

"Huh. Smells nice in here," he comments. The fact that's the first thing he says tells you he's clearly in shock from being clocked in the face.

You grab some paper towels and look him in the eye.

"I'm going to clean you up now,"

You reach around his head.

"Hey, I- wait, you don't-"

You unbuckle the clasps at the back of his prosthetic and pull the prosthetic off of his face. You set it aside, and set it on the edge of the sink.

He slowly meets your gaze. The amount of internal fear that's held inside of those eyes—fear you know that's been held in for so long—is astonishing to you. Your eyes soften. You slide your gaze over his face, and all you can feel is an unbelievable amount of happiness and satisfaction.

Butterflies swarm your insides and beat against your ribs at the sight of his mouth.

It's just as kissable as you'd imagined.

Shut the fuck up, you snap back at yourself. Not the time.

You're unable to hold in the large smile that grows on your lips as you bring the paper towels toward his face and wipe away the blood that dripped from his nose, down his mouth, and fell down his chin—there was so much of it that it had made its way down to the collar of his shirt, staining the material scarlet red.

"You can give that to me later," you uttered. "I know a thing or two about getting blood out of clothes, haha."

His lips twitched, but he remained silent and let you do your thing.

After thoroughly cleaning his face off, you return the prosthetic to him, handling it with care.

"Here you go."

After he'd put it on, you met his eyes.

"Hey, Sal, I'm-"

"It's okay." He peered at you sincerely. "That went.. better than I thought it would. I just hope you don't think of me differently."

The thought appalled you.

"No!" You exclaimed, a bit too forceful. You gathered your composure and tried it again. "No. Um- I could never. Seriously. Your face doesn't change who you are, Sal. It doesn't make me think of you any different. You're still you. Besides, I- um... I liked it."

His eyebrows jump and he jerks his head upward. "What?"

"I liked it. I liked your face."

He was silent like it was taking him a little bit to process that. Your eyes wandered during this time, and they landed on the collar of his shirt, again. You cursed.

"Shit. Hold on."

Suddenly, you'd crossed your arms around your midriff and began pulling the sweater upward. The noise Sal made was almost comical.

"No, uh, you don't have to! It's fine, I can-"

Before he could stop you, the shirt was up and over your chest and it was off of your head. Thank god that you'd remembered the black top beneath, or else you'd feel really bad that you couldn't give him the sweater—it wasn't like you could walk around in just a bra (as much as you'd like to sometimes.)

He grabbed the article of clothing from you, hesitant. "You're sure?"

"Yep!"

"Alright," he murmured, cautious, pulling your sweater over his head and pulling it down his torso. Once he'd done so, he looked back to your eyes and inquired you with his own. "So? What do you think?"

Heart beating so loudly it thrummed in your ears, you replied: "You've never looked better," and grinned wider than you ever have before.

[monsterfloofs]

OkayOkayOkay so this gentleman has been an oc of mine for a couple of years, but only recently have I started working on him and his character more. This is Barbeus, I love him very, very gosh darn much! And here is a little shorty story I wrote quite a while ago! But I found it so fun and fitting to share this morning <3 It’s broken up into two parts! One is third person while the other is second!! I am very passionate about this grouchy man I love him with all my heart and I hope you like him too!

Demon ( Barbeus ) x Female Reader

The bright morning light streams through the large paned office window. A cup of hot coffee on the desk and lingering smoke from a stubbed cigar is wafting through the air. Barbeus rubs his cheek, reading over the papers on his desk. His eyes fighting to stay open from the lack of sleep. He yawns and gives a little grunt. “Mngh. I think that’s enough woik for one night.” He pushes back his chair and stretches lazily, then downs the cup of coffee and leaves the cup on his desk. Striding to the window, with his hands clasped behind his back, he surveys the early morning city. Faint traces of activity already beginning to appear in the streets below. He gives a little huff and shakes his head, moving away from the window.

He doesn’t have much time to sleep, so he better grab what he can. He heads out of his office and walks along the empty corridor. With how the building is set up, his personal room and his office are closely linked so he never has to go far from one to the other, though he has been known to fall asleep in his chair and forego the short walk to his room. His lip curls and he rolls his eyes thinking about sleepy eyed Wyrn and his words of wisdom about rest and relaxation. Even though his younger sibling meant well, it just annoyed him. “Pfeh. An just what does he know about that? He’s always sleepin’ damned brother hasn’t woiked a hard day in his life.” He opens the door to his room, his tall shadow filling up the doorway. He hates to admit it, and especially since it is advice coming from his lazy brother. . . but maybe he’s right. “Maybe. . . I could be usin’ a break.” He mumbles out loud, closing the door behind him. He pouts as he unbuttons his jacket and lets it fall carelessly to the floor. Too tired to be worried about a few wrinkles. He slips off his shoes and settles on top of the bed. His head laying back on the pillows, looking up tiredly at the ceiling before they finally close.

He is awakened rather rudely by a noise outside and he starts, sitting up out of bed. There was a panicked voice outside his room and frantic knocking. “Wh- . . . what the hell?” he sleepy intones, he blinks heavily a couple of times and squints trying to catch a fragment of what was being said.

“B-Barbeus sir!! There’s a commotion downstairs! S-Sir! P-please! Wake up!!” With some effort, his groggily stumbles out of bed, his eyes are bleary, but he manages to find his shoes and get them on. “I’m comin’ damn it, gimme a minute here!” He growls, stepping over his jacket and then he jerks open the door, fuming. “What the hell is so important that ya gotta be knocking at my door, uh???”

Th-th-the human girl!” They stammer in a panic. “Sh-she’s in trouble!” Barbie’s eyes snap open, “What?!” They hurry along with Barbeus as he hurries down the corridor. “What th’ hell did they do??” “N-nothing that I know of!”

He reaches the stairs and he can catch a lingering smell of smoke, something burning downstairs. Oh no, he honestly hopes the human didn’t get themselves charred doing something stupid. Looking out over the stairs, he can clearly see flames coming from the break room. Barbeus groans, “You. . . gotta be kiddin’ me. This is too early in th’ mornin.” He marches downstairs, his tail swishing with agitation. The few that were in the lounge peering at him from their hiding spots. He barges into the breakroom to find it in tatters, there is a large demon looking aggressively looking around, trying to find. . . something. Barbeus’ eyes just manage to spot a small figure hiding in a broken cupboard and peeking out into the room.

He stamps his foot angrily, the fire in the room guttering and going out. “That. Does. IT. We ain’t doin’ this no more. What did I tell you? All of yous??” There is a burst of green fire that fills the whole room, a few green flames licking out into the lounge before it disappears.

He whips around to glare down at the human that is hiding, their eyes wide and glassy. They looked shaken, but unscathed. “You okay?” His voice comes out snappier than he had intended. They nodd, and they look like they’re going to cry. “. . . Good.” Barbie’s jaw clentches and he gives an annoyed growl. He’s too mad to talk to them properly right now, and it looks like the damn thing has been traumatized enough. No, he’ll have to find out what happened and talk to them after he’s cooled down. He can feel his temple pulse with pressure. He turns away from them and surveys the mess. “Jus’ my luck dis would happen today, I don’t got time for this yanno?” He snaps his fingers with annoyance and a yellow green fire ignites in places around the room. Instead of burning more things away, time seems to reverse, the things that were damaged reshaping and becoming brand new again. He walks over to the lower cupboard and stoops to open the door.

“Come on, out ya get. It ain’t gonna hurt cha,” He helps them out of their hiding space, “Get on outta here, take the rest of th’ day off.” He had meant it kindly, but he was too riled up to talk to them calmly. He knew he sounded harsh. . . he couldn’t help it right now. They shakily back away and he follows them out into the lounge. Barbeus pauses to watch the human hurry away, making sure they are alright, before his bright eyes move to glower at the nervous staff. “If I told ya idiots once I told ya a thousand times. This ain’t no place for spits and spats! An I’m not gonna be givin’ no warnings anymore. Any of yous causin’ trouble is gonna get fired like yous pal jus’ did. Got it? You all got woik to do. Go an do it.” He gives an annoyed huff and turns smartly on his heel, stomping back the way towards the stairs.

He’s angry enough to know that he won’t be bothered for a little while, at least that will give him time to cool his jets. He decides in the meantime to rest a little longer before he heads back to his office. He pointedly ignores the bright ripples of sunshine inside of his room, and lays down.

Once he is back in his office, he is feeling much less irritable. Getting more sleep under his belt certainly helped. He sits at his desk writing, a part of him almost feeling bad that he had gotten rid of one of his workers. . . then again. . . they had doggedly went after the little human despite his wishes. He already had a talk with his worker about the kid. They didn’t have anywhere to go, and they had needed a job. As much as the environment wasn’t human friendly, he had tried to set something up for them that they could do and still be safe. Apparently those careful precautions weren’t good enough since they still had managed to set the break room on fire-- no, he corrects himself, that idiot had set the break room on fire. Not the human. With how skittish they had been previously, he was surprised that they ended up getting into any kind of conflict. Though it had seemed one sided, and a little bit of poking around confirmed that. He had found that the human had stood up to their co-worker and it had gotten out of hand because of the ex-employees temper and combativeness. “Well, good riddance. I don’t need anymore trouble.” he hurumphs to himself, lighting a cigar with a snap and watching the smoke coil up into the air. He leans back into his chair thinking, “What to do. . . What to do. . . well, I would think after that, that kid will wanna resign. Guess I’ll talk to em tomorrow and take it from there.”

—— Second part!!

The big demon sits at his desk, looking through papers and filing them, he hears a click as the door to his private office opens and you peek around the corner. "Barbeus? Sir? You wanted to see me?" Barbie gives a little grin at your shy face, "Sure did. Come on in kiddo." You shuffle your feet shyly before you step inside. The big demon lights a cigar, ghoulish yellow smoke emitting from the end as he clenches it between his teeth. He stares at you thoughtfully for a moment. "So. How have ya been getting on in my city uh? As th' only human running around an' doing work for me. . . the least I can do is make sure your stay is comfortable." You stare at him. "Ah. . ." This wasn't the kind of talk you were expecting at all. Usually your big boss is known for being ill-tempered and grouchy. You expected you were going to be chewed out for almost causing a catastrophe in one of the break rooms. In which part of the break room had been torched to charcoal and you had almost gotten yourself killed by attempting to stand up to a former work mate. And "former" was the understatement of the year. Barbeus has resigned their employment and them in green and yellow fire. Admittedly. . . you were expecting the same treatment. . . "Y-you're not mad?" Barbeus quirks an eyebrow. "What? Me? Mad? About what?" He squints at the guilt scrawled all over your face. "Ya think I'd be mad about that?" He touches two of his fingers to his forehead looking as if you had shown up to work with a newly grown second head. "The guy almost kills ya. . . and you think what? It's your fault?"

"Well I, I did um. . . provoke him. . . ?" Barbeus stares at you dumbly, before bursting out laughing. He taps his cigar over the tray on his table before he takes a long draw from it. "Listen here sweetheart. You're th' most fragile thing in this buildin' that idiot coulda flicked you an broke your neck. You stood up to him an showed you got some guts. I don't care if ya go up an down th halls screaming profanities and doin' a dance numbah." A smile tugs at your lips but quickly drops again as he points a clawed finger at you. "But if you're thinking you're gonna do that now after I gave the "okay" you and me are gonna have a talk." He is looking at you pretty sternly so you shake your head with remarkable feeling. Nope, nope, nope! Not me, I'd never. Never even dream of it, nope, nope. But a part of you is in remorse, darn, that could have been fun. He huffs in approval not privy to your lamenting thoughts, "Good. That's what I wanted to hear."

[abyss-in-machines]

The First Move, Chapter 4

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

AO3

She woke up groggy, a mildly thumping headache relentlessly bothering her. Stirring, she slowly unwraps the blankets around her, stopping to wonder in amusement at how carefully they were spread around her. All her memories from yesterday night remained fuzzy, but she still remembered very distinctly just how comfortably and snugly she slept under the blankets. Seita must’ve really taken the time to wrap them around her, probably following Hinowa’s guidance. Tsukuyo finally sits upright, hands on the futon for support, looking around. Her room’s orientation definitely looked… different than usual. She definitely didn’t remember keeping a vast stack of what looked like manga volumes propped up in her room’s corner… maybe she’s seeing things. Hangovers can still be a pain, mentally and physically. Nothing a morning bath and a good smoke after breakfast can’t patch up quick, she murmurs to herself.

I know today’s the start of the weekend, but I just can’t skip work. God, Hinowa...

Parched, she searched around the futon sides, and to her amazement found a flask of water and a small bag with aspirin kept beside the futon. She reaches out immediately, gulping down the water with gusto, and taking an aspirin soon after. Feeling much better, she takes the time to look around. Tsukuyo finally realises the room itself was dimly lit, kept as to make sure to reduce any sunlight coming into the room as much as possible. She shakes her head, finally standing up and slowly walking towards the door. Opening it, she covers her eyes from the light flooding in, walking into what looked like the living room, with two sofas facing each other and a table between, and a desk close to the window. Dazed, she looked around, wondering where the bathroom could be.

“Take a right and go straight, the bathroom's gonna be to your left, close to the entrance doors.” A familiar deep voice spoke. “I got you a toothbrush, so no need to worry about borrowing mine.”

“Ah, thank you, Gintoki,” she mutters back, heading into the direction pointed out slowly. Realization hits like a bucket of cold water seconds later, and she turns around sharply, facing the man who had spoken. “GINTOKI?!?”

There was no mistaking the fish eyed, dead faced samurai. Leaning on the wall, Gintoki looked back, smirking.

“Morning, shinigami-tayuu.”

-

A good twenty minutes later, after Tsukuyo had gotten over the initial shock and freshened up, they sat close together at the table, with Gintoki having finished laying out the breakfast.

“Fried eggs and rice? Quite fancy of you,” she remarks, digging in.

“Be glad it’s me making the breakfast, not Kagura. She’d just put raw eggs on top and call it a day…”

“I’m thinking you must’ve egged her onto that one…”

“Clever pun, but no,” Gintoki shrugs, waving her off as she giggles. “I kid you not, Kagura’s had wack tastes since the beginning. Comes from having a dunderhead of a brother and an even bigger moron of a father.”

“You really don’t mince words, do you?”

“Really though, they deserve it.”

“Sounds like you’ve had personal experience dealing with it.”

“Ugh, trust me. You don’t wanna know.”

“When was the last time you’ve seen them?” Tsukuyo inquires, curious.

Gintoki takes a small bite of the rice, chewing thoroughly before settling in. “It’s been a while. I know the brother comes by occasionally. He says it's to check on his sister, but we all damn well know that he comes here for the battles.”

“With Okita-kun?”

“Nah,” Gintoki shakes his head. “The Chief Of Police. Seems like he’s taken a liking to her. Says she’s far more aggressive and relentless than Sofa-kun. Now, I’m thinking which way does he mean...”, a kunai hits him squarely in the forehead, startling him. “Oh, c’mon honey…”

“You know why you had that one coming,” she chuckles, and Gintoki leans on the tabletop, groaning out loud. “Say, where are the kids? Didn’t see Kagura around…”

“Well,” Gintoki sighs, straightening up. “It’s not one in the afternoon yet, so she’s definitely still sleeping. I told Shinpachi to take the day off, cause we finished all the requests due over the week, and we don’t accept any requests during the weekend.”

“Yorozuya’s that busy these days, huh,” Tsukuyo marvels, and Gintoki nods in agreement.

“Surprised me too. Since the return, and me settling what was left of the Naraku, the Yorozuya really took off as a local brand name. Beats me how…”

Tsukuyo smiled. The man really was blind to the impact of his own work on the Kabuki district. To say that the residents of Kabuki loved Sakata Gintoki is an understatement. Gintoki is, and always was, a local celebrity. Despite the man’s temperament, Gintoki somehow always had this innate ability to get the people around him to notice, to want to get to know him better. He was someones’ drinking buddy, another’s rival, someone’s friend to turn to. Gintoki is always there to lend a helping hand, even if he offers in that classic tsundere technique of his.

“Anyway, honey,” Gintoki starts, snapping Tsukuyo out of her thoughts. “I gotta say, I usually don’t have mornings this calm and, dare I say, fun. Usually my mornings are pretty loud, thanks to the kids...”

Tsukuyo snorts. “You calling high noon ‘morning’ is a new one. Although, I must admit, I quite enjoyed the brunch. We should probably do this more, darling.” She smirks, noticing him looking away blushing.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, then suddenly perks up. “Granted, we were only able to enjoy this cause I’m still alive from yesterday…” he shudders, alarming Tsukuyo.

“I couldn’t have been that bad yesterday, right…” she asks shakily, as Gintoki flashes her a deadpan, sarcastic look.

“You wish, honey.” Quickly noticing the panicked expression on her face, he sighed, waving. “I was exaggerating, honey. It wasn’t that bad, but it was… quite eventful. You wouldn’t let me go and kept clinging onto me whilst draining Baba's expensive sake to the last drop. Definitely scared the old hag out of her wits for once. I somehow calmed you down and took you upstairs, and put you to bed, where you slept like a child. Explained everything to Baba later, she understood.”

“I’ll go down and apologize immediately,” Tsukuyo exclaims, getting up, but Gintoki caught her hand, motioning her to sit down.

“Calm down, Tsukki, it’s alright,” he soothes, gently caressing her hand, and Tsukuyo looks at him in wonder with disbelieving eyes. How’d the silver buffoon turn so mature all of a sudden? “Told ya I explained it to her. If you really want to-”

“Of course I do!” “Then we’ll go down there together. How about that,” he replies back, smiling, and Tsukuyo’s heart glows even more. What has this man done to her? Better yet, what had happened to him? “Eat up, I’ll take care of the dishes, gotta wake Kagura up for breakf-uh, I mean, brunch.” He winks at her, getting up and grabbing the dishes. Tsukuyo pouts.

“You know, I still have to get to work,” she exclaims, digging into her meal.

“Way ahead of you, already called up Hinowa, she’s got you covered,” he shouts back, smiling at the groan that followed.

Learn to take a break, you damn workaholic…

-

Tsukki, you work too damn hard…

That was the only thing on Gintoki’s mind as he saw her come back from making some small rounds around town. Of course, she still came all the way back, despite his and Hinowa’s insistence. Tsukuyo disregarded their suggestions, stressing that the rookies in the Hyakka still needed her guidance. True to her word, she had hastily finished brunch, took Gintoki with her downstairs to Otose’s bar, where she apologized profusely for about half an hour, and then finally dragged Gintoki to Yoshiwara. Hinowa was surprised to see the both of them at the doorstep, and Gintoki kept pouting until she finally promised that she’d be back in an hour to enjoy the rest of the day. And again, always being true to her word, she showed up back in an hour, right on time. Even if Gintoki sometimes felt that the drunk terminator was being way too sincere for the new recruits, he understood her plight all too well, along with the burden she was carrying.

“Was she really always like this, Hinowa,” he groans aloud, as he sits close to the porch, peeling off orange skins, waiting on Tsukuyo to finish her bath. Hinowa remained close by, merely smiling at Gintoki’s pouting and nodding back. Gintoki sighs, leaning against the wall.

“How was she like back then, Hinowa?” he asks, wondering aloud.

“Much of the same, Gin-san, except much more serious, I’d say. Dedicated to her work. Tirelessly working to ensure the safety of the courtesans and the citizens of Yoshiwara,” Hinowa sighs, a slight frown forming on her face, which Gintoki is quick to notice. Moments later, however, Hinowa speaks again.

“Gin-san, I’ll be honest,” Hinowa starts. “Seeing Tsukuyo like this has really made me feel happier than I’ve ever felt. All this time, Tsukuyo had been hell bent on dedicating herself to the lifelong mission to protect Yoshiwara. Even with the liberation from Hosen’s rule, and the fiasco that followed after the return of Jiraiya, she had been going on and on, the same routine and the unyielding effort.”

“There are times where I’ve genuinely wondered whether Tsukuyo would ever get to live her life. There’s only so much one can do once they throw themselves into their work. As someone who had been there by her side so long, I’ve worried so much about her. You see, Gin-san, all I ever wanted for her was to live happily.”

Hinowa looks at Gintoki, wearing a small sad smile. “I am glad that you’ve become such an important part of her life now, Gin-san. Trust me when I say it means the world to her to get to spend time with you like this. I’ve never seen her so happy, so content with life. The Tsukuyo that I knew from so long ago would never have been able to dream of a time where she’d get to spend time with me and Seita so long, and get to enjoy a serious, fulfilling relationship with the love of her life. It’s beyond a courtesan’s wildest dreams, a delirious illusion at the most. And yet you broke through all of reality’s hurdles like it was nothing, and granted her something far greater than what dreams would have promised.”

Gintoki silently listens, taking in everything that Hinowa just said. Straightening up, he kneels in front of her, head bowed.

“I will do everything in my power to protect that happiness, Hinowa,” Gintoki solemnly states. “She means the world to me, she truly does. I never expected to find my own happiness in this world for a long time, but being with her made me realise that maybe I did have a chance at finding that happiness. Even if it was all just to be by her side, I would’ve happily obliged, but she allowed me to be a part of her world, and I will never take that for granted.”

“I will never take her for granted,” Gintoki utters, bowing down. He lifts his head up to see tears flowing down Hinowa’s cheeks.

“I know you won’t, Gin-san. I know you won't.”

-

After talking to Hinowa for some time more, and eating up some of the orange slices he had carefully peeled out, Gintoki heads for Tsukuyo’s room, wondering what was taking her so long. He didn’t need to wonder for long. After knocking on her door for a while, he finally slides the door open carefully, just to see Tsukuyo lying down on the futon, deep in sleep. She jolts up quickly at the noise, despite his cautiousness.

“Oh, Gintoki…,” she starts, slowly propping herself upright as Gintoki walks up to her. “So sorry, felt like I’d take a little nap before I’d join you and Hinowa downstairs… seems like I dozed off…”

Gintoki snorts, as he sits by her side. “Figured you would. Just in case, I got you a glass of water along with oranges. You better eat the orange slices, Gin-san worked too hard to ensure they were peeled to perfection, you know.”

“For God’s sake, Gintoki, they’re just orange slices,” Tsukuyo laughs, as she reaches out for a piece, but Gintoki’s ahead of her already, grabbing a slice and bringing it close to her mouth.

“Say ‘aah’, sleepyhead,” he teases. Tsukuyo can’t help but giggle.

“Fine, you win, Gintoki,” she replies, as accepts his helping hand. “For some reason, I’m feeling extra sleepy today. Your laziness is finally rubbing off on me, I see.”

“Point one for Gin-san on the board,” Gintoki announces, and Tsukuyo responds by throwing a pillow. “Woah, no kunais?” he asks, and he's suddenly whisked close to her, as she plants a quick, passionate kiss on his cheek.

“Not today,” she states happily, grinning at the blushing samurai.

-

Work was tougher than usual today...

Tsukuyo made her way through the roads in the Kabuki district to Otose’s bar. She’d just wrapped up Hyakka business for the week, and had planned to visit the silver-haired samurai once she was done. On the way, however, Tsukuyo feels uneasy. Her body was sweating profusely despite the cool evening weather, and her muscles seemed to ache even more than usual after the work. Normally, Tsukuyo would chalk it up to the usual overtime grind taking a toll on the body, but Tsukuyo knew perfectly well that today was just an ordinary day at the office, nothing more. There was no reason why she’d feel this bad…

Deep in her thoughts, Tsukuyo notices the bar coming into view, and walks on. She had barely taken ten steps in the direction of the bar when she’s suddenly hit with a disarming headache. Barely keeping sight as she bears the dizziness, she slowly trudges on, approaching the bar outskirts, where she notices the android maid with the shining green hair.

“Tama… chan…” Tsukuyo stutters, as she gives into the exhaustion, collapsing to the ground.

[ererokii]

Sweet Like You || Eijirou Kirishima

Eijirou Kirishima x Fem! Reader

Warnings: cursing (?)

Word Count: 2462

Synopsis: Class 1-A decides to help a local animal shelter by doing a bake sale, and you and Kirishima are in charge of the baking.

Taglist (message to be added): @shoutodoki @shoutosteakettle @sugacookiies @saltie @fryingpanitachi @kingtamakimurder

➺ Note: This is for @bnhabookclub​‘s bingo event! The prompt is Baking Sweets. This is also for @pixxiesdust​‘s birthday! I know it’s a day early but I wanted to post it now cause I couldn’t wait! Happy birthday Ze! I love you so much and I’m glad we became friends, enjoy your day bb <3

Bingo Masterlist

You couldn’t remember how you ended up in your position. You came out of your room, sleep still flooding your body as everyone started yelling at you for no reason—well, there was a reason behind it.

Aizawa thought it would be a good idea for his class—you guys to hold up some fundraiser for anything, but nothing dumb. He said it would give you guys a good insight on what it would be like when you got to be pro heroes, always helping those in need. Without a choice of course, you all had to decide what would be best.

“Why are you yelling at me?! I just woke up!” you yelled, furiously rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand to erase the remnants of sleep within your body. “I didn’t even get a good morning!”

“There’s no time for good mornings, Y/N! While we’ve been trying to figure out who we should help while you were sleeping your ass off! What kind of commitment is that, huh?! Do you care?!”

“Oh, shut up, Kaminari!” you groaned and plopped on the couch, not caring if your shirt rode up slightly. “I’m here now! Get it over with then!”

“She’s right! Stop the yelling, and we can get on with it!” Iida fixed his glasses as he held a clipboard in his arms, tapping a pen against it. “Alright, so far, we have some good ideas! There’s a local soba shop, a bookstore, an animal shelter, a beauty salon, and… a grocery store?” he trailed off at the end before shaking his head. “Alright, let’s vote! Who wants the soba shop?!”

Only Todoroki raised his hand, his face slowly falling in the area of disappointment when he noticed no one else was raising their hand. 

“Book store!”

No one raised their hand. 

“Well, that makes it easier,” Iida muttered, crossing the word out with his black pen. 

“An animal shelter!”

You shrugged and lazily raised your hand, noticing a handful of your classmates also raised their hand.

Iida nodded and counted each of you, his tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth in concentration. “Twelve of you! Alright, beauty salon!”

Mina’s hand immediately shot up in the air, a goofy smile on her face. Iida breath hitched as he shook his head, erasing the other topics as well. “Animal shelter it is! Okay, that’s settled! What should we do to raise the money?”

“Sell cold soba on the streets.”

“Icy-Hot! No one is going to buy your soba! Especially on the streets!”

“Well, do you have anything better?”

“It doesn’t matter. No one is buying your stupid soba!”

“How about a bake sale?” you threw the idea out there and immediately regretted it. Pairs of eyes kept their gaze on you as you slowly cowered back into the couch. “W-What? Stop staring at me like that!”

“Oh yeah, that’s a good idea! I’m with Y/N on this one!” a certain redhead said from behind you, his hand grazing your shoulder. You tilted your neck upward and caught a pair of vermeil eyes, a vivid grin sent in your direction. You could feel bursts of heat erupting in your cheeks as you smiled back quickly. “Y-You mean that Kirishima?”

“‘Course! Baking sweets has to be one of the manliest things out there!”

“Well, is everyone okay with that?” Iida asked, turning around to face the rest of his classmates. There were nods of approval, spoken words of support, or just silence. 

“Then that settles that. Since both of you were so happy to take this on, I’m leaving the baking to you two!” A finger was pointed in your direction. 

You stopped your mouth from moving as your eyes gazed at his finger. “J-Just us?! How many would we need then?!”

“Well, if you make popular sweets according to the web, plus traditional based ones…” Iida paused for a moment, his mind wandering to calculate. “I would say maybe fifty for each.”

“Fifty?!”

“Uh-huh! Best get started now!”

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut, tossing your head back as you were met with the couch's cushion. You slowly opened your eyes, cerise orbs gazing back at you. 

“It can’t be that bad, right?! Come on, you were made for this Y/N! You’re a great baker! I love everything you make!”

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you scratched the back of your neck, feeling the flesh there heat up from his compliment. “T-Thank you, Kiri! It shouldn’t go bad, right?”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The kitchen smelt of raw eggs, flour, vanilla extract, and a hint of something burnt, which was just a batch of cookies in one of the old ovens. Splotches of white powder were scattered across the wooden floor, some residue from the eggs forgotten on the counter. The buzzing of the electric mixing bowl could be heard from the other room along with your shrieks.

“C-Cover the top with a towel, Kirishima!”

“Right! Sorry, Y/N!” 

A small ding went off, indicating that the second batch of sugar cookies was ready. You rushed to the oven, your oven mitts on already as you opened it, watching the smoke emit from the interior. You quickly grabbed the baking pan and shut the oven door, placing it on a stand to cool down. 

“Kirishima, did you finish with the brownie batter?”

He grunted in response, pouring the molasses-brown substance into a glass pan, making sure to scrape the leftovers off with a spatula. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Okay, while those cool down, we can work on the cupcakes,” you muttered, slicking the small strands of hair that fell in front of your face back to where they should have been. In the corner of your eye, you noticed Kirishima putting the batter into the oven after fixing the timer.

“Cupcakes, you said?”

“Mhm,” you sighed, grabbing a new glass bowl. “Can you hand me the ingredients while I mix?”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind doing this one instead, you’ve been making different batters since we started. Why don’t you just hand them over to me.”

“A-Are you sure?”

He nudged you with his shoulder, a goofy grin on his adorable face. “I offered, didn’t I? Come on, just do it, Y/N.”

“Fine, fine! Just don’t mess ‘em up.” you huffed playfully, taking a seat on the stool beside the redhead. He nodded, placing the bowl in front of him. 

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you handed him the correct measurements for each ingredient. 

You watched him mix the substances carefully, his eyes squinted as he concentrated. His tongue peeked out and licked his lower lip as his whisking only got faster by the second. The muscles on his bicep flexed with each flick of his wrist. 

“Kirishima, I think you’re mixing it too fast.”

“Nonsense! This is the perfect pace—“

You scooted back, wincing when the batter splattered onto his shirt and the marble countertop. 

“—for it,” he whispered, finishing off his sentence, the whisk falling from his hand as he let it rest in the bowl. “...maybe that was a bit too fast.”

“Ya think?” You huffed and grabbed a towel, handing it to him. “Hurry and clean it before it stains your shirt.”

“I think it just did,” he sighed, taking it from you as he dabbed the mess on his clothing. “I’ll just change when we finally finish, whenever that is.”

You grabbed the bowl and brought it in front of you, wiping the handle from the excess cupcake batter and began to whisk slowly. “You see, if you move your wrist too fast, it’ll go everywhere just like it did. You have to have slow and precise flicks,” you told him, feeling the warmth from another body behind you. 

He leaned over your shoulder, looking at your movements. “Can I try again?”

You realized how close he was to you. You stopped your movements, licking your lips nervously as you nodded. “Y-Yeah, here you go.”

You shakily handed him the utensil, your hands brushing against his larger ones. You quickly moved out of the way once more, allowing him to sit there. “H-How about you do that, and I’ll make the frosting?”

Before he could reply, you rushed away from him with your head down as a blush tinted your cheeks. God, he was so close to me. I could practically feel his muscles on my back, you thought, clumsily taking the needed things out. 

You turned your back to him, taking a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “Okay, just brush it off,” you muttered and unwrapped the butter, placing it in the electric mixing bowl. Soon you added everything that was needed. You set a towel to cover it, preventing another incident like last time and flipping it to the lowest setting.

The sound of something snapping caught your attention as you looked up quickly. Kirishima stood in front of the oven, wearing your strawberry mitts, too small for his big hands. He caught you staring and rubbed the back of his neck, his face becoming as sanguine as his tufts. “I finished, so I put them in the oven.”

“O-Oh, that’s good!” you chirped, looking away from him as you focused on the frosting being made. Kirishima’s smile faltered as he walked over to you.

“Are you okay?”

“‘Course! I’m fantastic! Why wouldn’t I be okay?! Do I not look okay?!”

“N-No!” he gasped, placing his hands defensively in front of his body. “You just look off is all! Like you’re thinking too hard about something!”

“Oh,” you whispered and rubbed your temples slowly. “Just seems like a bit of work when it’s only two people is all.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah, I get that. But I’m glad it’s only us, though.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“I like spending time with you, Y/N.”

Your mouth went dry at his confession, staring at him with confused eyes. Your heart felt like it could leap out of your chest and let him grab hold of it. “Y-You do?”

He nodded, slowly walking in front of you. Kirishima peered down at you, noticing the twiddling of your thumbs. 

You could smell earthen savors of cedar and lambent notes of mandarin peel when he stood close to you. He was driving you crazy without him even knowing. Kirishima was the puppeteer, and your heart was his puppet. He continuously pulled at the strings of your heart, and you let him. 

His scarlet orbs gazed into your own before quickly glancing at your lips, then back at you. Your eyes widened when he leaned closer, shakily bringing a hand to rest on your elbow. Knowing his next move, your finger dipped in the buttercream frosting as you scooped some up and placed it on his nose, shocking him in the process. 

“I—”

“I am so sorry! I have no idea why I did that,” you said quickly, out of breath, but did not attempt to clean it off him. 

His confused look got wiped off, a naughty one taking its place. “You wanna play like that then, huh?” He suddenly reached in the bowl, scooping a handful of the cream and smeared it across your face. Your eyes widened as you stared at him, dumbfounded. White streaks of frosting covered the area from your nose and below. You brought your hands to your nose, wiping the substance from your nostrils from blocking one of your airways.

“It’s on, Eijirou!”

Squeals and laughs resonated through the kitchen, each shout of the latter’s name bouncing off the walls. Bags upon bags of flour and baking soda was thrown across the room. The room was becoming more of a mess than it already was when you got in there.

You coughed into your elbow, waving the area from the fumes of powder that was fogging the air. “T-Too much!” You squint your eyes, hands reaching up to your head, and immediately patted it down, shaking your head to get the powder out of your hair. Trails of melted butter dribbled down your face, the baking soda sticking on like glue.

Kirishima wasn’t far behind you. His clothes and hair were dusted with white. 

“Wow, you look bad,” he blurted, pointing a finger at you. 

“Me?! Have you seen yourself?!” you laughed, wiping the dried crumbs off your arms. “We both look like crap, I bet.”

His thumb caressed your face as you quieted down, your orbs locking with his. “You know..” he trailed off, “you look adorable, especially like this.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

His eyes widened as choked noise left his mouth. “H-Huh?!” Oh, he so desperately wanted to kiss you. 

“I said what I said,” you whispered, wrapping an arm around his neck and bringing him down to your level, your lips grazing his honeyed ones before intertwining. His arms encircled around your lower back, bringing you flush against his chest. You ran your fingers through his rubescent tufts, lightly tugging on them. His grip around you tightens. His heartbeat could be felt against your chest, your beating heart matching the rhythm of his. You felt like you were on the highest mountain in the world and could scream to anyone who had to know about your vibrant, romantic feelings for Eijirou Kirishima. 

Unfortunately, oxygen was a thing. You slowly pulled away, small, balmy puffs of air fanning your face. Both of you had equally flushed cheeks and a small goofy smile on his end. 

“Hey, Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Didn’t you just do that?”

A pinch to your side caused you to whine and shift in his arms. 

“Can I take you out this weekend?”

Your face brightens as you nodded frantically. “I would love that!”

Your nose twitched as you sniffed the air, your eyebrows furrowing. “What is that?”

“What’s what?” Kirishima asked, following your eyesight that landed on the counter. “What’s wrong?”

You sniffed the air again, pulling away from him. “It smells.”

“Wow, if you’re gonna talk about me like that you can do it nicely—” he murmured sarcastically before you let out an agitated cry.

“No, not that!” You huffed and scratched your head in thought. Kirishima seemed to notice your thought process as he began to think of any possible outcomes. Was it the kitchen that just started smelling? Was it the both of you covered in raw egg and baking products? Was it—

Oh no.

You gasped in unison as you grabbed Kirishima by his shoulders, shaking him violently. He seemed to be on the same page as you, placing his hands on your elbows to steady himself.

“We forgot the cupcakes!”

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.3 (spicyhoney)

Summary:   Stretch asked Edge where his newest acquisition came from. Time for explanations.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

~~*~~

That Morning

The first task Edge had to accomplish was trying very hard not to vomit. No matter how he tried to brace for it, going through one of his brother’s shortcuts always sent his equilibrium into a tailspin that left him retching on his knees at the other side.

Red only stepped to the side, mouth curling in distaste. “bro, you ever gone get over that? seriously, it’s embarrassing to have you yakking on your boots whenever we need a quick exit."

"Fuck off,” Edge rasped out, gagging back another heave. He took a slow, deep breath, another, and then staggered back to his feet, “If you’d care to quit bitching about my issues with motion sickness and tell me why you brought me here, we can get this over with. Where are we, anyw—” He paused, for the first time getting a good look at their surroundings.

That morning, Edge wasn’t halfway through checking the traplines when his brother appeared, stepping out from nowhere directly in front of him as he never did. For once, his sharp, careless grin was absent and in its place were clenched teeth and grim words. “got something i need to show you, boss.”

Edge hadn’t hesitated to go with him. Much as his brother appreciated a terrible joke or a worse prank, Edge trusted him with his life and that unusual seriousness left him equal parts reluctantly intrigued and worried.

A few hasty steps, a shortcut, and a bout of nausea later, and Edge was beginning to rethink that trust.

He whirled around and asked in a furious whisper, “Have you lost your moronic little mind?”

“nah,” Red shrugged, rolling his shoulders lazily and turned to walk down a long, dimly lit hallway. “no more than usual, anyway. c’mon, this way.”

There was little choice but to follow him. Overhead, the fluorescent bulbs sputtered and flickered, flashes of lightning from a manufactured storm illuminating the trash and filth that lined the walls, giving them a setting that was perhaps better suited for the horror movies that Papyrus was so fond of. The comparison wasn’t far off; no sane Monster came anywhere near Alphys’s lab, which would certainly explain why his brother brought them here. It must be something like insanity on both their parts, on Red for coming and Edge for staying.

Edge followed after his brother with carefully silent steps. He wasn't worried about Alphys seeing them on her cameras, they never seemed to work around Red, but that wouldn't help them if she walked right in on them as she investigated some careless noise.

Red didn’t seem to have the same compunction; his sneakers trod heavily, untied laces dragging through the filth. His rough chuckle seemed to echo around them, carrying them along, “heh, you know what’s funny? i still know my way around in here. can’t remember where i put my fucking wallet most days, but an internal map of this shitheap, i got no problems. funny how some things stick.” He kicked aside a moldy ramen cup, a fouled plastic spoon skittering out of it. “i keep tabs on ol’ al, you know. i ain’t sticking my neck out, but i like to keep my nose hole poked into whatever she’s been gettin’ up to down here. just lately, she's been going through the old scientist’s shit, tryin’ to recreate some of his old experiments.”

“She’s been doing that for years,” Edge said, low. “What changed?”

Red stopped outside the door and an unexpected shudder went through his small frame, the rattle of his bones muffled beneath his heavy jacket. He straightened before Edge could so much as lay a concerned hand on his shoulder, twisting out of his reach with a casual indifference that was almost believable. “yeah, well, it ain’t the core she’s been workin’ on.”

Behind that door, the room was lit by a single bare bulb and in its incandescent glow, Edge could see several large, glass tubes filled with some sort of thick liquid lining the back wall, with wiring and pipes spidering out from them and across the ceiling. Beneath the bulb itself was a long steel table, starkly empty except for the unremarkable heavy cardboard box sitting directly in the middle of it. Red gestured sharply at it, though he didn’t approach it himself, and warily, Edge stepped forward to peer inside.

He caught his breath against the raw, painful lurch in his soul, a brief moment of sharp pain that left behind a peculiar numbness inside him.

Inside the box was a skeleton, so small that the perfect curve of its skull could easily be held in the palm of a hand. Its bones were bare, gleaming a soft ivory in the garish overhead light, its sockets were closed—no, her sockets, from the revealing arch of her pelvis. A female, a girl, a child, sleeping naked and alone in a dank room in a hidden, underground lab.

Edge’s gaze drifted over her, absorbing every detail, from the tiniest fingerbones and their delicate joints to the breadth of her small feet. His gaze caught on her lowest rib and held there, frozen. There, engraved on her tiny, fragile bone, was a number, fresh and chalky-white, particles of dust still clinging to it. Unthinkingly, Edge reached out to touch it with a shaking fingertip, his glove whispering across the bone, and he could nearly hear her screams of pain as an indifferent scientist carved their mark into her, as if she was nothing more than another piece of equipment, something new to break.

She stirred, her tiny face scrunching and her little legs drawing up as she mewled a protest, perhaps against his touch on the still-raw wound or perhaps against her callous nakedness, considering that there was a blanket carelessly tossed over the side of the box.

Edge picked up the blanket and something fell out of it as he did, landing at his feet. He bent over to retrieve it, saw what it was. A dingy little gown, thin from repeated washings, one that had surely been used before years ago,

(please let it be years ago)

The numbness in his soul was fading and what it left behind was something else entirely. Edge gritted his teeth hard enough to taste dust and gingerly slipped the gown on the baby, covering her bareness. Then he cautiously wrapped her in the blanket, swaddling her tightly, and gently settling her, still asleep, into the curve of his arm.

Behind him, Red shifted uncomfortably, his shoes squeaking on the tile floor. “boss? what are you do—?”

He broke off on a shout, jumping back as the first attack swept through the room. Heavy glass shattered, as loud as a gunshot, a flood of foul liquid gushing from the broken tubes even as Edge summoned another attack, another, equipment sparking and shrieking beneath the onslaught of jagged, blood-red bones.

“what the fuck are you doing!?" Red screamed, but Edge wasn’t listening. He couldn’t, all he could hear was the child screaming in his head as a number was carved into her, scarring her permanently, marking her as not her own.

‘S-3’

In one corner, a curl of rising smoke turned into a flame, yellow tongues licking at the trash surrounding them greedily. Smoke was filling the room, alarms beginning to blare as Edge turned on his heel and walked out.

“boss,” Red moaned out, nearly jogging to keep up with Edge’s long-legged stride. “you’ve lost your everfucking mind.” But his mouth began to curl, a savage grin spreading across his face as he summoned his own attack, bones flying through the air and there was nothing but broken glass, the alarms, and the steadily growing fire.

"we're gonna fucking die," Red grumbled as they made their way through the long hallways. But he followed along, wreaking his own destruction along the way.

~~*~~

“…and then we came here,” Edge finished. He didn’t look at Stretch, not at all sure what he would see in his face. Disgust, perhaps, for his lack of control, or horror that he very nearly led that world right here to the Swap brother’s doorstep. Better to look at the child, who was sleeping soundly in her little pillow nest. None of this was her fault, least of all her own creation, but it was all because of her, nonetheless.

What came from Stretch was a question so far from his expectations that at first, Edge couldn’t quite comprehend it. “so what’s her name?”

Edge’s head jerked up and he could only look at him blankly. He didn’t even realize his mouth was open until Stretch reached over and gently closed it with a nudge to his chin. He didn’t pull away, only looked at the baby out of the corner of his socket, her rounded little face relaxed in sleep and her small hands closed in lax fists. Nothing like a name came to him, she was only the child, a baby, how could he possibly…?

Perhaps his growing agitation showed on his face. The knuckle on his chin turned into a light touch on his cheekbone, drawing his gaze back to Stretch. “don’t worry,” Stretch said lightly, “there’s no rush on that. we’ll put our heads together and think of something.”

“She's my responsibility,” Edge blurted thoughtlessly, “This was my choice.” He winced even as he said it; it was true, but it wasn’t what he meant, he didn’t know how to say what he meant. This was his responsibility, his burden, but to call an innocent child a burden aloud was too repugnant to consider.

Stretch only nodded. "yep, she’s all yours, no one is taking her away.” Those simple words eased some of the agitation rising inside Edge, even as Stretch tilted his head to the side, offering him a lopsided smile, “that doesn't mean you have to slap away any helping hands, edgelord.”

“I…yes. You're right,” Edge exhaled shakily, reminding himself that he already owed Stretch a great deal, with more debt to come. “Thank you.”

“you don’t need to thank me for this. in fact, i really wish you wouldn’t,” Stretch climbed to his feet with a groan, pressing both hands into the small of his back as he lived up to his namesake, his joints letting out a satisfying series of pops. “c’mon, you should lay down. get some sleep, you look like hammered shit.”

Edge couldn’t help a faint chuckle. “Flatterer.”

“sexy hammered shit,” Stretch amended. “Come on.”

To Edge’s surprise, Stretch gently scooped up the sleeping baby, who never stirred, only snuggled into his arms as Stretch made his way upstairs to his bedroom. It was suspiciously clean; before all this Edge had been planning on visiting tonight and he could only look at the crisp, clean sheets with a sort of exhausted wistfulness that they would not be used as intended.

Stretch didn’t seem bothered to see his hard work go to waste. He flipped back the top blanket and settled the baby on the mattress, close to the wall. “hop in, edgelord, naptime.”

Realization that Stretch intended him to sleep with the child came slowly, and when it did, Edge took half a step back, balking, “What if I roll over on her? I could hurt her!”

Stretch snorted and shook his head. “you? don’t think so. me, maybe, but i so much as wiggle my big toe when we sleep together and you snap to attention. you’ll be fine, we’ll figure something else out later. c’mon, big guy, strip,” Stretch said teasingly, sweeping a hand across the sheets, “time for bed.”

“Don’t talk like that in front of the baby,” Edge grumbled, but he hesitantly obeyed, kicking off his boots and stripping down to his trousers. He left those on, it felt strange to sleep naked in someone else’s bed when they weren’t in it. His glare begged for Stretch to comment but he said nothing, only helped tuck the blankets around them as Edge settled in, being sure to keep a wary safe distance from the sleeping child before closing his own weary sockets.

“sleep well,” Stretch said, softly, and there was a soft brush across Edge’s forehead, like the shadow of a kiss. Soft footsteps made their way across the carpet, but Edge didn’t hear them. Despite his fears, he was asleep before Stretch even made it to the door.

tbc

[watchtower-feed]

Death Do We Part (Part 13)

SSA Spin-off ✧ Jason Todd ✧ Physical Link  ✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧ Words: 4,300+

     Jason kisses you again, holding on to your face, and then grudgingly lets you go. He lies on the couch with his hand draped over his eyes as you gather your clothes and get dressed. You kneel beside his head and say his name.

     “I can’t, Y/N-- If I see you, I won’t have it in me to let you walk out of here.”

     So you kiss his cheeks with quivering lips and your tears warm his skin before you leave the Todds’ old apartment.

     Jason’s whole body flinches at the sound of the door closing. He lets his own tears mix with the ones you left. Then he harshly rubs them away as he sits up to face the sun that’s slowly peeking over the cityscape from his window.

     He takes in three deep breaths before he finally gets up and puts on his clothes, leaving the stench of Gotham on his skin along with the scent of you. It’s armor he tells himself. With you on his side he knows he can’t fail.

     He takes out his phone and dials. He puts it on speaker and places it on the counter to pack his gear. The moment the ringing stops, he speaks first, “I want everybody in the bunker. Now.”

     There’s a slight groan and hint of annoyance from the other side, “You can’t be--”

     “Don’t make me wait.”

     Jason hangs up. When its lights turn off, he can see his reflection on the black screen of his phone. His white bangs are hanging down, half covering his glowing green eyes. He touches the skin under them and wonders if you noticed. Did it scare you? As he looks into his mutated eyes watching himself, he snarls.

     “Focus!”

     There’s far too much at stake tonight to be daydreaming now. The sooner he finishes this mission, the sooner you can leave this town. Jason takes one last look at his phone before he leaves their old apartment.

     He’s the first one at the bunker in the Arkham district and proceeds to check on the armory in the backroom. He puts on his domino mask and then his helmet. Then breathes in to give his mind and body time to adjust to his other role, his other identity.

     When he gets back to the main room, there’s a couple of thugs spread out on the floor and some of the big players sitting at the big table in the middle.

     “What’s the big idea calling us in so early in the morning? Most of us work nights you know!” Penguin’s nasally voice is already giving Jason a headache.

     I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here!

     Jason clams his mouth shut inside his helmet and walks up to the table.

     “Are you listening to me-- or is that blasted thing on mute--”

     He slams his hands on the table and waits for the echo to stop, making sure all eyes are on him. “We’re doing it tonight.”

     He watches as the big crime lords of Gotham widen their eyes and turn to each other like shoolchildren.

     “Tonight? Are you fucking kidding me?” Black Mask is standing now and circling the table to act like a menace but always making sure there’s somebody else between him and the Red Hood.

     “Are your men not ready?” Jason asks.

     Black Masks flinches and the sides of his nose twitch. “Of-of course they are--”

     “Good. Because we’re taking out Batman and the Joker tonight. If you’re not ready then you’re out of the deal.”

     The deal. The deal Jason’s been waving around at the noses of these dredges of Gotham City. One night. One final night to get both Batman and the Joker out of their lives.

     It’s not surprising a lot of them want to get rid of the Joker. The maniac’s a loose canon that’s not fit for any alliance and if you tick him off, you won’t know what to expect.

     “Have you figured out how to get the lunatic out of the asylum?” Dent speaks up from the wall he’s been leaning against. “The new vault is Wayne tech but they outsourced it from an anonymous--”

     “Oh, I never said anything about me breaking him out.” Jason cuts him off because he already knows this. He doesn’t like it when people repeat shit he already knows. It was never like this when he worked with Batman. “Don’t you worry your pretty faces over it. I’ve already got the perfect girl doing the dirty work for me.”

     “Right,” Penguin snorts, “Because you don’t actually do any work--”

     “When do we get to kill the Bat?” Bane’s menacing voice vibrates within the room, even terrifying Jason behind his mask.

     “Now that’s what I like to hear,” he yells out almost shakily, but your scent on him is trapped inside his helmet and it’s helping him keep calm, keep up appearances. “You, Killer Croc, and Clayface will come with me to the bridge.”

     “How do you know he’ll show?” Bane interrupts and Jason wants to show them a smile that says ‘leave it to me’. Instead he keeps quiet with his eyes on Bane who only narrows his eyes with scrutiny.

     “Right. Right. Of course,” Black Mask groans as he walks around more freely. “You’ve got another slutty little streetrat doing the work--”

     There’s a loud bang. Everyone in the room watches as Black Mask falls to the floor with a smoking hole in his head. Jason is heaving heavy breaths under his helmet and his eyes are wide and trained on the dead man who just said shit about you, while his hand is holding the gun.

     Once his composure is under control, he turns to Dent, talking to him with the gun slanted to the side. “Congratulations. His men are now yours.”

     Dent stares at the crazy bastard in front of him before he grins.

     As soon as the meeting is over, Jason is the first one to leave. He heads off to a small diner in the central business district, one of those small eateries at the heart of the city that are slowly dying.

     Happy to have the helmet off of him, he eats his food quietly while staring at his arm that’s propped up on the table. His last words looking back at him. “What did she do-- tattoo it on her skin?” he teases as he pokes it with a fork, smiling at the thought of you reading it over and over again.

     Someone slips into his booth. It’s enough to alarm Jason because he should’ve noticed anyone walking toward him. When he looks up, he finds his replacement in front of him.

     “Dick rewrites it every day with industrial-strength markers.”

     Jason’s other hand reaches for another weapon concealed in his jacket. Tim sits upright in front of him with both of his hands under the table. Jason only guesses he’s pointing something at him, too. They stare at each other for a while before Tim finally speaks up.

     “Fuck you.”

     The corner of Jason’s lips twitch. He almost wants to laugh. Heck, he does laugh. “Fucking rude--”

     “You slept with Y/N and then you sent her back to Bruce to ask him to let you kill the Joker.”

     Jason’s eyes widen. What were you thinking? Jason knew you were going to tell Bruce his plan that’s why they had to do it tonight. But he never asked you to stand up for him. He doesn’t want you to be involved in this. Why would you go and do that?

     Tim clenches his teeth as Jason continues to stare dumbly at him. “What kind of sick joke are you playing at? She’s in love you with you and you’re--”

     “Hey.” Jason’s voice is low and he’s staring into Tim’s eyes, blue like his, almost like his used to be. Did you gaze into them before you kissed him? Did they remind you of him? “You should learn to mind your own fucking business, kid.”

     “You--”

     “Thanks though.”

     Tim eyes Jason curiously, wondering what he means. Then he feels it, the kick of a tranquilizer rapidly invading the nerves of his body. Before his head hits the table, Jason is already by his side and placing his head on his shoulder.

     “You should’ve waited for the party but I guess you just saved me a lot of time.” Jason nods his head to the waitress walking by. Then he takes out his phone and calls Penguin.

     “What is it now, Hood?”

     “You should be happy to know that I just did some dirty work ahead of schedule.” Jason relishes the angry snort Penguin gives him before he continues. “So I’ll be helping you with the bombs later this afternoon.”

     There’s a long silence on the line before Penguin finally replies, nervous. “Are you sure this will work?”

     “Trust me. After tonight, when those bombs go off, you’ll be the only kingpin left in this city. No more Falcone or Dent.”

     After Jason hangs up, he pays the bill for his food and drapes his jacket over Tim, making sure his face is hidden as he hauls his body over to Arkham district.

     Finally, night came. Tim is tied up. The bombs are in place. The Joker is being broken out. And Batman is driving over the bridge. Jason is fighting every urge to tap his foot on the ground, or clench his fist, or rub his arm where his last words are written.

     All day he’s had to fight the urge to write to you, something you haven’t done in almost a year. But the fact that you haven’t written anything to him made it easier. You understand that everything is going down tonight and you’re giving him space.

     Now all he has to do is focus. Everything will go according to plan. It’s time for the theatrics, just like Batman taught him.

     “Sorry, Batman! This part of the city’s closed for the day! Public execution and all!” Jason is surrounded by cheering thugs finally rejoicing at the thought of a Bat and Joker-free city. Everything will be theirs for the taking.

     Jason watches his temporary alliance follow through with the plan. He whistles as Bane lands on the bridge. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

     “Time for your exit, boy,” Killer Croc hisses as he passes by Jason.

     Jason sees no point in talking back. He presses the button for the EMP and waits for the lights of the batmobile to go out. Then he nods to Croc and Clayface and disappears into the crowd. Once out of the frontline’s range, he uses his grappling gun to reach higher ground.

     “Still bait. Need to make sure they see me.”

     Jason hides among the shadows to watch Bruce and Dick work. Bane’s the first one to go down. “Taking down the biggest threat first. Efficient and predictable, Bruce.”

     “Hoody! You double crossing son of a bitch!” One of the most annoying voices Jason has ever heard screeches into the comm in his ear. But it’s not really Harley he hates, it’s the other guy that always comes with her presence.

     “What? Code didn’t work?”

     “Oh it worked alright, you smarty shit helmet. I finally got mista J out of that stinkin place but guess who was waiting for us, huh? Guess!”

     “You don’t know, do you?”

     “You--” 

     Jason hangs up on Harley because he knows. He asked his friends from Eth Alth'eban for a couple of last favors until they can finally call it even. “Good. The appetizer’s already at the club-- Oh! Time to go.”

     Nightwing had spotted him and now Batman is in pursuit. Jason leaps from one rooftop to another, making sure Batman can still see him as he turns at each corner.

     Clayface and Croc never were much of a threat in an open space, away from their element. Dick could handle them with his eyes closed. But Jason busted some of his ribs so dealing with those two should keep him occupied all night.

     The sound of Bruce’s grappling gun hisses in the air and Jason waits for it to wrap around his legs. Before it tauts, Jason turns mid-air and cuts the line before he free falls to the road. He lands on his feet and rolls over to lessen the impact. He whispers a small apology to you in case your body couldn’t handle it.

     Bruce watches Jason run through the streets and follows from above. Jason can see his swift shadow casted by the foggy moonlight. He suddenly can’t help the stupid grin growing on his face. “Feels like old times, old man!”

     When Bruce sees another bridge, he already knows which building the Red Hood is headed for. Batman perches a block away and tries to contact Nightwing.

     “Status report.”

     Dick nervously laughs. Bruce can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “Seriously dandy. Croc and Clayface almost can’t keep up.”

     Bruce can’t see it but you can. Dick is barely standing on his own two legs, busted knees, exhaustion, and you know he’s emotionally overwhelmed. You’ve monitored enough of their videos to know that Dick isn’t at his best. You suddenly can’t help intervening. 

     “Bruce, turn back. You have to help Dick.”

     “I’m fine,” Dick interjects. “Just get Jason.”

     “Jason’s not the one in trouble right now, Dick--”

     “Y/N.” Dick’s voice has suddenly gotten sharp. “Batman needs to make it this time.”

     Your eyes widen as you watch Dick throw himself back into the fight. He’s exhausted but his opponents are in worse shape. Finally resigned, Alfred wraps his arms around your shoulder, bracing yourselves for what’s next.

     As soon as Jason walks into Black Mask’s new club, he’s met with absolutely no one. He quickly prioritizes before he panics and checks the two large boxes on the dance floor.

     A phone starts ringing loudly inside the deserted club, distracting him from the cape that flies in from the overhead window. Jason answers it and he hears Penguin’s unmistakeable nasally voice.

     “Hello, Hood.”

     Jason grits his teeth. Something isn’t right. “Where are you and Dent?” 

     “Sorry, Hood,” he snorts and chuckles. “We knew something was up. Found the bombs you snuck into my place. So you’re on your own.” He can hear boisterous laughter in the background and loud music. They’re celebrating prematurely at Penguin’s club. “But hey, if you manage to take the Joker and Batman to hell with you, good for us!”

     The dial tone fills up the empty club and it feels like it’s getting louder inside Jason’s head. He yells in frustration and throws the phone against the wall.

     “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

     Jason is bent over, hands on his knees and hyperventilating. The helmet is suddenly suffocating. He takes it off and throws it across the dance floor. Batman stops it with his foot, making Jason look up and glare at him.

     “Looks like you’ve run out of criminals to do the dirty work for you.” Batman’s voice brings Jason’s focus back to his own breathing. Things are not going according to plan but just the thought of putting this off for another day, makes his hands tremble. He wants to leave. He wants to run to you and leave this godforsaken city.

      Bruce looks at his son with nothing but worry. He extends a hand to him. “Jason, it’s time to stop.”

     Jason winces. He takes in one loud inhale and then lets it out in the form of boooming laughter. “Oh, but it’s just begun, and we’re so close to the climax already.”

     Like a child lashing out when everything has gone wrong, Jason runs and jumps at Bruce, a fist aimed at the side of his father’s head. It’s sloppy. Easy enough for Bruce to block and secure Jason in front of him.

     “Let’s go home,” he urges.

     Bruce watches the trembling scowl on Jason’s face. Jason kicks off of Bruce’s chest. When he lands on his feet, he runs at him again to kick his side.

     Bruce catches his leg and firmly holds it against his body using both of his hands. He glares at him, “Jason, stop!”

     Jason snarls and punches the side of Bruce’s face. Then another one against the tip of his nose. Bruce immediately lets go of him, holding his nose while ringing permeated in his eardrums.

     When he brings his hands down, there’s blood. “Jason, I don’t want to hurt you.”

     “That’s too bad, pops.”

     You have been too mesmerized by the one-sided battle between Bruce and Jason, that you forgot to watch Nightwing’s feed. When Alfred and your face are kissed by a bright glow coming from the other side of the screen, your eyes widen and your lips tremble.

     “B-Bruce!” your voice echoes in his earpiece and he can already hear the panic. “The br-bridge! Dick was on the bridge and it just blew up!”

     Jason notices the slight change in Bruce’s demeanor. He watches cautiously when his father clenches his fist and looks at Jason with a snarl. He starts walking toward Jason, letting him hear his every word.

     “Forgive me, Y/N.” 

     And you brace yourself for the onslaught of pain that’s sure to come. You close your eyes and bury your head in Alfred’s embrace. He holds you tightly, both of you dreading and waiting. But the pain never comes.

     You open your eyes and turn back to the monitor. Bruce is standing still in front of Jason with a fist just inches away from his son’s face. Jason’s eyes slowly open.

     “I can’t,” Bruce confesses in a trembling voice. 

     Jason frowns as he watches the resignation on his father’s face. But it’s quickly replaced by a scowl as he remembers, remembers why they’re here. “I should be so flattered,” his voice hits Bruce like a blow to the chest. “Too bad you extend this same mercy to your enemies.”

     Jason walks away from Bruce to stop in front of one of the boxes. He kicks it in and then he drags out a tied up orange clown into the middle of the club.

     “To scumbags like him!”

     The Joker shakes his head, trying to get rid of the sudden disorientation. He had been hearing their family drama from within the crate. But when his eyes settle on the black cowl and pointy ears, he grins and rises to his feet. He takes a quick look at Jason and recognizes him immediately.

     “Oh! Is this my welcome back party? I’m underdressed.” The Joker looks down at his clothes from Arkham and winces. “Orange really isn’t my color. Blegh!”

     His care-free attitude is only making Jason angrier. Everything has gone wrong. He has thrown himself against Bruce and almost got you hurt. And now, now the clown is treating all of this like a fucking party.

     Jason kicks the Joker onto the floor and keeps his foot on his back. He keeps his head down as he snarls at the maniac beneath him.

     “I don’t know what clouded your judgment worse…” His foot presses harder on the clown’s back before he looks at Bruce, glaring. “Your guilt or antiquated sense of morality.” 

     You watch with your hand over your mouth. Jason’s breathing has been labored this whole time and you don’t know if it’s because of all the running or the emotional toll of it all.

    Jason looks at Bruce and he sounds broken, “I forgive you for not saving me--”

    The Joker scoffs and nonchalantly interrupts Jason, “He couldn’t have saved you, boy. The timer was a dud. The warehouse was only rigged to explode once Batman stepped onto the property.”

    Batman’s eyes widen with guilt but Jason already knew that. He knew that Bruce had come for him with 10 seconds to spare on the timer. More than enough time to get him and his mother out of there safely. To save you, too.

    The Joker’s eyes widen with glee as he watches the taut lines on Batman’s exposed jaw. “You didn’t know, Batsy? My my!”

    Jason almost feels sorry for Bruce as he desperately looks at his son’s eyes and then to his hands, thinking he was the one who had killed him. Jason puts more pressure on the Joker’s back and shouts, “Do you see?”

     Jason takes off his mask to stare Bruce in the face, to look him in the eye when he finally asks the one question that has been eating at him alive. “So why! Why on god’s earth is this psychotic filth still alive?”

     Jason’s outrage and their father-son confrontation is only making the Joker laugh in amusement, splintering his lips against the hardwood. “Gotta give the boy points! He came all the way back from the dead--” 

      Jason harshly turns him over and slaps a gag into his mouth, pushing it down and ties it until the Joker is choking.

      More aggravated now, he’s heaving in breaths like he’s running out of air. Jason turns back to Bruce, gritting his teeth. “Ignoring what he’s done in the past. Blindly stupidly disregarding the entire graveyards he’s filled. The thousands who have suffered. The friends he’s crippled--!”

     Jason watches as Bruce’s jaw clenches. They never talked about that. After that night, even when Barbara was released from the hospital, the family completely turned their backs on her, willing that the incidents never happened.

     The memory only makes Jason’s blood boil and his heart clench in his chest. It’s so strong that you can feel it.

     “I thought… I thought I’d be the last person you’ll ever let him hurt. If it had been you that he beat to a bloody pulp. If he had taken you from this world--” Jason pauses, surprised at the tear falling from his eye. He knows it’s not his but this has never happened before. You’ve never shared tears before.

     Jason clenches his fist and yells at Bruce again, “I would have done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil death-worshipping garbage and sent him off to hell!”

     Bruce’s head is spinning. He sees the man he despises the most in this world and the boy he’s failed, both in life and in death.

     “Jason... All I’ve ever wanted to do is kill him. A day doesn’t go by when I don’t think about subjecting him to every horrendous torture he’s dealt out to others. And then… end him.”

     Bruce’s confession doesn’t appease anything in Jason. It only confuses him more.

     “So why--”

     “But if I do that…” Bruce gently interjects, “If I allow myself to go down into that place… I’ll never come back.” He takes a few steps forward and extends his hand to Jason with his palm facing up. “You’ll never come back, son.”

     Jason stares at the hand extended to him before he finally snarls at his father. “Why?” he sounds like a child, broken and betrayed, “I’m not talking about killing Penguin or Scarecrow or Dent. I’m talking about him. Just him and doing it because… because he took me away from you.”

     Bruce watches as Jason harshly wipes away the tears that keep coming. Jason doesn’t get mad at you. He doesn’t blame you. If he wanted to, he would let out everything as well. He almost wishes he could when Bruce finally answers him.

     “I can’t, Jason. I’m sorry.”

     You feel Jason’s nails dig into his palms. You watch as he narrows his eyes at Bruce and points the gun at the Joker.

     “Well you won’t have a choice.”

     Jason shoots the Joker in the head. The sound echoes in the silent club while Bruce stands still as the Joker’s body goes limp on the floor.

     You watch as the mad clown who terrorized your dreams for over a year lies on the ground, unmoving and staining the floor with his blood. Dead. But you don’t feel a single drop of satisfaction from it as you follow the trail of smoke coming out of Jason’s gun.

    “You don’t understand, Bruce,” he finally says. “I don’t think you’ll ever understand until someone spells it out plain and simple for you.”

     Bruce takes a step forward with his hands up but Jason’s points the gun at him next. “You can’t protect us-- much like you can’t protect this city from every disgusting dredge that lurks at its every corner. Ra’s and your failure taught me one thing true about this world: it’s better to grab evil by the tendrils and burn it before it settles its roots.”

     It feels like a hammering is slamming down on Jason’s chest. The exhaustion. The emotions. Finally everything is so close to its breaking point. You can feel it.

     “This is what all this has been about, Bruce. This scum,” he kicks the Joker’s body, making it skid away, leaving a trail of his blood. Then he points the gun at Bruce and places his free hand on his chest. “You. Me. And him!”

     Jason kicks open the other box in the club and harshly rips out a struggling Robin. Tim is tightly gagged and his eyes are wide open.

     “Tim!”

     You don’t know who shouted. You or Bruce. You watch as he struggles against Jason’s grip. He tightens his hold on Tim and presses him against one side of his body to prop him up for Bruce to see him in full view.

      “Now is the time you decide.” 

      Jason throws the gun to Bruce, the one he used on the Joker. “If you won’t, I’ll kill him. If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to kill me.”

     Bruce stares at Tim’s wide eyes and then at the gun in his hands. Tim is fiercely struggling against the Red Hood’s hold. The Red Hood. Jason. He looks at his once dead son and sees unfamiliar green eyes looking back at him. His answer comes softly with regret.

     “You know I won’t--”

     This only makes Jason angrier. He takes out another gun and points it at Tim’s temple, startling all of you.

     “It’s him or me--”

     “Stop!” You shout from the safehouse, suddenly standing and urgently looking for anything to write with, not wanting to watch anymore. But you can still hear him.

     “You have to decide--”

     Your soulmate.

     “Think about Y/N!” Bruce shouts, making you stop and stare at your hands, a pen hovering over Jason’s last words.

     Jason’s grip falters. Of course, he’s thinking of you. Every single minute of every single day, all he’s done is think of you. All of the things he’s done is for you. You and him. That’s why he has to do this.

     His voice comes out like a low growl. “Decide now... Do it.”

     Bruce is shaking his head and holding the gun with both of his hands, shaking. Jason glares at him and pushes the barrel of the gun harder against Tim’s temple.

     “Him or me! Decide!”

✧ 1 ✧ 2 ✧ 3 ✧ 4 ✧ 5 ✧ 6 ✧ 7 ✧ 8 ✧ 9 ✧ 10 ✧ 11 ✧ 12 ✧ 13 ✧ 14 ✧ 15 ✧

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧

[wren-fell]

Stuck in Borderland

Chapter 4: The Days In between

Thank you to everyone who’s read this so far! I appreciate all the support.

Madoka and Sayaka are my characters all the rest belong to Haro Aso.

Warnings: Language, talk of death, weapons

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* Day 1 (Morning)*

“Ughhhhhhhh…” Sayaka groaned as her head rested on the dining room table.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have had that extra two drinks after you ran after Chishiya,” Madoka commented as she sat at the table.

“Shhhhhh… you were the one who suggested we go back to the bar,” Sayaka hissed raising her head to look at her, but winced at the sunlight that came through the window and put her head back down.

“Didn’t mean you had to agree,” Madoka mumbled around a bite of toast, “you should eat you’ll feel better.”

“No if I eat I’ll vomit…”

“Weird. Eating makes me feel better after a night of drinking,” Madoka commented.

Sayaka raised her head to glare at her, “it’s because you’re 21 Madoka. When you hit 25, you’ll get it, until then fuck off,” Sayaka hissed.

“Yea… Well enjoy the youth right,” Madoka mumbled her mouth full.

Sayaka sighed and rested her forehead back against the cool table. The Beach was relatively quiet in the morning. Everyone was so drunk from the night before things didn’t pick back up until noon when people started waking up, so for now at least the music wasn’t pounding in their ears. Sayaka would’ve loved to sleep in more, but force of habit from swim practice had her up and at em at 8am.

“Here this will help with the hangover,” someone said and the sound of a full glass hitting the table made Sayaka raise her head. A tall girl with braids, a blue flowered bikini, and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth gave her a smile.

Sayaka squinted as her memory started to jog, “why?”

“What?” The tall girl asked putting her head to the side.

Sayaka glared at her, “why would you give me this? You’re the chick that’s always hanging around with Chishiya. So what? Is this some murder cocktail from him?” Sayaka nodded toward the tall glass filled with thick looking red liquid.

The girl blinked at her in surprise before bursting out laughing, “no, no. This is a hangover remedy a friend of mine taught me back in the real world. Chishiya had nothing to do with it,” she paused to look at Sayaka who still looked suspicious, “he isn’t exactly in the business of caring about people.”

Sayaka pouted as she watched the tall girl. “Just shut up and drink it Sayaka. Kuina is harmless,” Madoka said.

Sayaka eyed the glass before sighing and pushing herself up into a sitting position with her elbows, “fine…” She picked up the glass and sniffed it cautiously and gagged.

“Yea, don’t smell it just chug it,” Kuina advised.

Sayaka glanced at her hesitantly, but drew in a deep breath and threw the glass back chugging it as fast as she could. She slammed the glass back on the table and stuck out her tongue with a shiver, “oh god that’s nasty.”

“Yea, but it’ll help.”

Sayaka sighed leaning back against her chair and pulling her bangs away from her face, “thanks Kuina,” she glanced up and offered a smile, “do you want to sit with us? I’m Sayaka by the way.”

Kuina smiled, “sure.”

There was a long silence as they all sat and ate.

“So Kuina, did Chishiya say anything about Sayaka’s embarrassing confrontation?” Madoka asked.

“Madoka!”

“Hm? No I don’t think so, but I haven’t talked to him today,” she said thoughtfully a hand on her chin.

Sayaka turned to look at her, “you haven’t you two are always together. What are you dating or something?”

Kuina leaned back laughing loudly, “oh god no! Chishiya is definitely not my type!”

Sayaka gave her an unconvinced look.

“Besides I don’t think he’s the romantic type,” Kuina added.

Sayaka nodded slowly, “I can understand that he isn’t your type.”

“Yea, that’s good. Cuz he’s totally Sayaka’s type,” Madoka piped up.

“MADOKA!”

Kuina was laughing again, “what seriously?”

“No, not seriously! I’ve talked to him once, and if I had the chance I would deck him in the face!” Sayaka snapped. Kuina kept laughing.

“And what’s his fucking problem anyway?” Sayaka demanded leaning over the table.

“What do you mean?”

“Like what do you two want from me?” Sayaka hissed.

“Nothing that I know of. Chishiya just takes an interest in certain people,” Kuina shrugged, “he doesn’t usually tell me what his ideas are though.”

“Great. So I’m still just a bug under a microscope to him,” Sayaka mumbled snatching a piece of bacon off Madoka’s plate.

“Hey!”

“Stupid blonde haired stalker,” she grumbled.

“Honestly, if you confronted him like Madoka says he’ll probably lose interest,” Kuina added.

Sayaka rested her cheek on her fist, “can only hope. I don’t need a stalker when someone is already trying to kill me…”

There was a long pause, “what’s up with the cigarette Kuina?”

Kuina blinked glancing at Sayaka, “oh, I used to smoke, but I figured best to be in good health for these games. I have to get back home to my mom she’s bedridden, and she needs me,” Kuina replied.

Sayaka nodded, “makes sense,” she sighed, “I need to get back to my little sister… she’s all I have left, I can’t leave her alone.”

“I need to get back to my family… My mom and dad just got divorced, and mom wasn’t taking it well…” Madoka mumbled.

There was a collective silence between the three of them, before Madoka sighed and gave Sayaka a hard shove, “way to bring down the mood!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Haven’t you heard the Beach motto? This is a Utopia no sad faces here,” Kuina teased, and they all laughed.

“To fucking Utopia,” Sayaka raised her glass of water, and they all clinked their cups together.

“Cheers,” Sayaka mumbled drinking.

 * Day 2 (night)*

Sayaka hummed to the tune of the music kicking her feet as she laid back in the beach chair.

“How can you hum to this? There’s not even any words!” Madoka asked gesturing towards the speakers with a drink in her hand.

Sayaka shrugged.

“They should play better music,” Kuina said, “if we’re going to die. I don’t want the last thing I hear to be stupid techno music.”

“So true,” Madoka mumbled looking around the pool.

“Chishiya has headphones and music, but I’m not sure what he listens to,” Kuina pointed out.

“Probably something weird, like death metal,” Madoka muttered.

“Or Katy Perry,” Sayaka suggested with a snicker.

“Ha! Yea I can just picture him rocking out to ‘E.T’,” Kuina joked.

“Oh please ‘hot & cold’ would be his jam,” Sayaka snorted.

“What about ‘I kissed a girl’?” Madoka suggested.

“No way, he’s totally virgin lips,” Sayaka laughed.

“I bet you could fix that, Sayaka,” Madoka smirked.

“Would need a lot of drinks,” Sayaka sighed settling back into her chair again sipping on her drink.

“We’ll see,” Madoka cooed.

“You could be the one to break into that icy heart!” Kuina brought her hands to her chest dramatically.

“Yes! And then survive the borderland together!” Madoka leaned into Kuina as they both giggled.

Sayaka glanced at the two of them out of the corner of her eye and smirked, “wouldn’t hold you breath on that one.”

“I still think they’ll end up together,” Madoka pointed out, “I have faith.”

“In your dreams—“ Sayaka, Madoka, and Kuina all jumped as a loud shot rang out, and the pool went silent, except the music still beating in the background.

Sayaka sat bolt upright and scanned the pool. Standing at the far right corner was Niragi and a boy in board shorts cowering on the ground. Niragi was pointing his gun at the boy, and there was a noticeable bullet hole in the pool deck in between his legs.

“You really think you can just talk to whoever you want?” Niragi leant forward pushing the barrel into the guy’s forehead, “that girl is mine. Do you get it?”

“Yes, yes I’m sorry!” He replied frantically.

Sayaka slid to the edge of her seat tensing all her muscles getting ready to run, when a hand rested on her arm. Her head snapped to Madoka who gave her a slight headshake, “if you run. He’ll shoot you.” Sayaka felt her blood go cold, and she dragged her eyes back to the scene.

“I’m sorry!” The boy screamed again.

“And you think that will save you? I think I need to teach you a fucking lesson,” Niragi kicked him hard in the chin sending him backwards and his head cracked into the concrete.

“Not so talkative now, are you?” Niragi leaned forward over the boy’s unconscious body, and spit in his face. He turned around sharply throwing an arm around a girl with long curled black hair who looked horrified, and they began to walk away.

Sayaka felt like she was frozen solid, like her muscles would never move again; even as everyone started to talk and dance like nothing had happened. Very slowly she dragged her eyes over to Madoka and Kuina who were watching the boy be carted away with a solemn expression.

“Hell of a paradise isn’t it?” Kuina mumbled.

“What the hell? He’ll just go around shooting people?” Sayaka asked shakily.

Madoka gave a sigh and nodded, “there’s nothing we can do. If anyone stood up to him they’d be shot.”

“If you stay quiet and hide in the crowd you’ll be safe,” Kuina breathed.

Sayaka drew in a deep breath, and looked back to the pool. This place was like a game arena in itself, but at least in the games nobody was kidding themselves about this being a Utopia.

 Sayaka let out a loud groan as she tossed and turned in bed. She still had a lump sitting in her stomach, since Niragi’s outburst at the pool. Every little sound from the hallway made her jump, and it certainly didn’t help that they weren’t able to lock their doors.

She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed wiping her face, and looked at the clock, 3:00am. With a groan she stood up and walked to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face, and leaned against the counter. Running water was nice, but not having to feel like she’d die any second would be much better. A loud slam of a nearby door made her jolt, and she groaned.

“Fuck.”

Staring at her reflection in the mirror she let out a sigh, “maybe a walk will tire me out enough to sleep.” She slipped on her flip-flops and opened the door to the hallway. Cautiously she peeked her head out, making sure that none of the militants were roaming around before slipping out.

Sayaka wandered around the hotel letting her feet guide her, and making sure to change directions when she saw any of the militants. Whooping and hollering sounded from the end of the hallway, and Sayaka made a sharp turn into the stairwell. Quietly she leaned against the cement wall listening to the laughs as they got closer. She chewed on her lip and looked at the wall across from her where a simple sign with an arrow pointing up read, “roof access”. Casting a glance over her shoulder towards the door Sayaka ran up the staircase hoping to avoid the incoming hyenas.

The stairwell was quiet and there was no sound but the slap of her flip-flops echoing against the stairs. Not even the music made it’s way into the dark concrete walls. She had to admit as spooky as the stairwell was the quiet was welcomed. Sayaka reached the top of the stairwell, and gave the heavy door a shove. Quietly she peeked her head through the door to look around the roof. It was fairly quiet. From the 7th floor the music at the pool was just a distant drumming. Sayaka slipped out onto the roof sweeping her gaze around. There was nothing up here except the air conditioning fans, the utility shed, and… Chishiya. The white hooded boy was standing over by the edge of the roof facing the darkened city of Tokyo.

Sayaka stared at him wide-eyed as he turned around, smirked, and waved. She fidgeted with the hem of her board shorts, “sorry. I didn’t know anyone was up here.”

“Who’s the stalker now?” he quipped turning back to the view. Sayaka drew her lips into a tight line, and stiffened her shoulders drawing in a deep breath.  

Slowly she walked to the edge of the roof to stand beside him. She had to admit, the lights not being on in Tokyo made all the buildings look like giant shadow monsters coming up out of the ground, but the lack of light pollution made it so you could see all the stars in the sky. She couldn’t help, but laugh. Chishiya glanced at her.

“Sorry, I just find it ironic,” she said looking up at him, “it took being in this hellscape to be able to see the stars. It’s actually beautiful…” she turned her head back to the city.

There was a long silence between the two of them, and Sayaka had to admit for once maybe she was enjoying Chishiya’s presence.

“You were a chemist?” he asked.

Sayaka glanced up at him, “uh… yea. Well,” she rolled her head on her shoulders, “kinda. I was finishing up my senior year of my PhD in Chemistry. I was an intern at a pharmaceutical company.”

He nodded slowly, “so you lied.”

Sayaka stared at him wide-eyed, “I… I guess? I mean my title was still chemist, and I was given the same tasks as the other chemists. So, call it what you will I suppose,” she mumbled.

“You lied.” Sayaka closed her eyes tightly. She thought she was actually okay with having Chishiya around, but then he opened his stupid mouth.

“Fine, whatever you want to call it. Are you going to go tattle to Hatter, Mr. Executive?” she grumbled rolling her eyes.

“No.”

She looked up at him surprised, “really? Why?” But of course he didn’t answer just smirked at her, and looked back at the skyline. Sayaka sighed.

“So, you lied about the chemicals as well?”

She felt a shiver pass through her, “I…” she hesitated, “I… I’m pretty sure they would be unusable,” she whispered.

“Pretty sure?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes, majority of the chemicals need to be kept in a humidity and temperature-controlled environment. With the power out, and based on how dilapidated the city is they would be long decayed.”

Chishiya watched her.

“You don’t agree?” she asked looking up at him.

He thought about it, “I suppose it’s a reasonable explanation.”

“Yes thank you,” she nodded.

“That’s not what Hatter wanted to hear.”

“I noticed.”

“You should’ve just told him there was a possibility. He doesn’t take kindly to affirmative negatives.”

“Why are you going to tell him?”

“No, him throwing a fit doesn’t interest me.”

Sayaka looked up at him. Pieces of his white-blonde hair whipped in the wind, and she frowned, “what does interest you?”

His eyes shifted to look at her. Sayaka felt her cheeks starting to heat up as he stared into her eyes. She felt small, and not just because she was actually shorter than him. His gaze was scrutinizing like he was picking her apart bit by bit from the inside out.

“Why are you up here so late?”

Sayaka blinked snapping herself out of her thoughts, “uh… I just couldn’t sleep. After Niragi’s outburst at the pool…” she muttered looking away from him.

“You have to get used to that. It happens often,” he replied.

Sayaka knit her eyebrows together and wrapped her arms around herself, “how can Hatter claim this is a Utopia?”

“These idiots will believe anything even if it doesn’t exist.”

Sayaka frowned, “I hate it here,” she whispered.

Chishiya glanced at her, “don’t let Hatter hear you say that. You’ll be marked a traitor.”

Sayaka grimaced, “and the Utopia just gets better and better.”

“And yet you chose to join.”

Sayaka looked up at him, “I was more or less kidnapped.”

“Lucky you didn’t meet with the militants, you would’ve actually been kidnapped,” he pointed out.

“Technically still was just in a less hostile way,” she added.

“Judging by how calm you were, that wasn’t your first game. Where were your cards?” He asked.

Sayaka raised her eyebrows, “oh… honestly, I didn’t think about it. I was so focused on the fact that I was still alive I just left the game arenas. The cards seemed insignificant at the time. They still do honestly,” she added under her breath.

“You don’t believe Hatter’s plan?” Chishiya raised his eyebrows.

“Do you?” Sayaka asked, turning to look at him.

He paused considering her words, “I can’t say I think it’s the exact solution. But, we don’t have a lot to go on right now. Obviously the cards have some sort of significance,” he looked back at the cityscape, “it was dumb of you to leave them behind.”

Sayaka frowned and glared at him, “does every word out of your mouth have to be an insult?”

He glanced at her with a smirk, “don’t do so many stupid things.”

Sayaka huffed, “always so pleasant talking to you Chishiya.”

“Nobody asked you to come up here.”

Sayaka balled her hands into fists, “fine then I’m going to bed. At least talking to you was exhausting enough that I think I can sleep now,” she turned on her heel and headed to the door, “goodnight Chishiya.”

He held his hand up as she walked away, but didn’t speak. Sayaka walked down the stairs lost in thought. Just when she thought maybe he wasn’t so bad Chishiya proves her wrong and continues to be an asshole. She covered her mouth as she yawned, well, at least I wasn’t lying when I said he was exhausting to talk to.

 * Day 4 (Night) *

“So wait you two actually talked? For an extended period of time? And neither of you have a black eye or are dead?” Madoka asked leaning over the bar.

“Yep,” Sayaka replied sipping on her drink.

“I’m surprised you didn’t push him off the roof,” Kuina added.

“Trust me I thought about it,” Sayaka muttered.

“What did you two even talk about?” Madoka questioned, “like what do you two have in common?”

“Oh this coming from the one that desperately wants us to date?” Sayaka teased.

“Well yea, but I seriously doubt Chishiya is the small talk get to know you type of guy,” Madoka snorted.

Kuina laughed leaning over the bar, “yea definitely not. He’ll only ask questions if they’re about something that’ll benefit him.”

Sayaka snorted, “yea like getting me kicked out of the Beach,” she muttered swirling her glass before bringing it to her lips. Sayaka noticed two guys were snickering on the other side of Kuina, and leaned back to look at them. One leaned towards her and pulled at the strings on her bikini bottom. Sayaka opened her mouth to yell at them, but Kuina whipped around and grabbed the guy’s wrist. He stared at her wide-eyed as she bent his wrist backwards and he yelped dropping to his knees.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She demanded.

“Ow! Ow! Nothing! Nothing!” He screamed.

“Then what are your hands doing on my bikini?” She bent his wrist back farther.

“Ow! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He yelped.

“Good. Don’t be doing shit like that to other girls. Give them respect!” Kuina snapped and thrust him forward so he landed on his back. He scrambled to his feet and ran out of the bar, but his friend wasn’t so intelligent.

“You bitch!” He snapped and lunged for her. Kuina didn’t even bat an eye. She stuck out her leg putting him off balance, and brought her elbow hard into his chest. Much like his friend this guy ended up flat on his ass.

“You were saying?” Kuina said with an eyebrow raised. The man scrambled to his feet muttering under his breath, and ran out of the bar.

Sayaka and Madoka both stared at her wide eyed with mouths agape.

“Holy shit,” Madoka mumbled

“You can fucking fight?” Sayaka snapped.

Kuina tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and replaced the gummy cigarette in her mouth, “yea my family owned a dojo. My dad taught me to fight,” she replied with a shrug.

“That’s super cool must come in handy—“

“Teach me!” Sayaka said slamming her hands on the bar and leaning towards Kuina.

Kuina blinked, “uh, yea sure.”

“Yes!” Sayaka pumped her fist.

“How much have you had to drink already?” Madoka mumbled.

“Shut up. If I can do cool shit like that I’ll be unstoppable!” Sayaka laughed.

“I’m just going to take this away from you,” Madoka slowly scooted Sayaka’s glass down the bar.

“Don’t touch my drink,” Sayaka glared at her as she slid it back towards herself.

“That’s right don’t want to get bitten,” Kuina chuckled.

“Shut up.”

 * Day 5 *

           Sayaka bent over with her hands on her knees breathing heavily, “jeez I didn’t think this would be so hard.”

“Well what did you expect?” Kuina asked putting a hand on her hip.

“I don’t know, to be badass like you?” Sayaka breathed waving at her.

“Aw, so sweet,” Kuina cooed leaning back with a hand to her chest, “but get up we have 3 more sets to get through,” she gestured for Sayaka to stand up straight.

“Ughhhhh,” Sayaka lumbered over to Kuina and brought her fists up to her face. She drew in a deep breath and punched Kuina’s raised hands.

Punch 1, 2, 3, “duck!”

“Wha—“ Sayaka didn’t have time to finish as Kuina’s fist slammed into her cheek and she fell backwards. Sayaka laid on the ground stunned staring at the blue sky.

“I said duck,” Kuina put a hand on her hip.

Sayaka’s eyes darted to her and she raised her arms, “what the hell Kuina! That fucking hurt!”

“You want to learn to fight? You need to be ready for the unexpected,” Kuina replied giving her a hard look, “especially out here.”

Sayaka sat up rubbing her cheek with a pout, “yea, yea, yea. You have a point,” she muttered.

Madoka fell backwards onto the roof laughing hysterically, “oh god Sayaka you should’ve seen the look on her face,” she snorted.

“Shut up Madoka, you’re not even trying to learn,” Sayaka snapped her head around to glare at her.

“That’s because I’m not learning,” Madoka replied pulling her sunglasses back over her face, “I’m sunbathing. Gotta rest up for my game tonight, right?”

Sayaka watched her with a pout, that’s right her visa expires tonight.

“Come on Sayaka 3 more sets,” Kuina waved at her again.

“Yea, I’m getting up,” Sayaka said pushing herself up from the ground, and bringing her fists back up, “so am I allowed to sucker punch you now?” She raised an eyebrow at Kuina.

“Ha! If you can hit me I’m all yours,” Kuina smirked.

 Sayaka leaned against the balcony railing as she watched Hatter address the Beach members below. She let out a long sigh and rested her head on her arms. Scanning the crowd her eyes settled on Madoka in her purple one piece. She was towards the front of the crowd rubbing her arms with a nervous look on her face. Sayaka sighed, I hope she comes back.

“Not enjoying the show?”

Sayaka’s stood up straight and snapped her head around to see Chishiya, “well, I think his speech is bullshit. But, I’m just worried about Madoka.”

He gave a curt nod, and slid up to the banister beside her. Sayaka stiffened and watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“Now let the games begin!!” Hatter’s speech conclusion made her gaze snap back to Madoka as she approached the assignment table. Sayaka frowned watching as she joined her group consisting of three militants.

“You shouldn’t be so concerned about other people,” Chishiya said.

Sayaka turned to look up at him, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll die if you keep being concerned for other’s wellbeing.”

Sayaka glared at him, “it isn’t a bad thing to want her to be okay.”

“It’s an unnecessary distraction.”

“So what? Betrayal and being a dick is the only way to be here?” she demanded putting her hands on her hips.

Chishiya glanced over at her, “you haven’t played a hearts game have you?”

Sayaka watched him, “just one,” she whispered.

“That’s the whole point of this place, self preservation. If you don’t put yourself above others you won’t make it.”

Sayaka stared at him. His brown eyes were cold and calculating. She didn’t have to ask whether or not he had let people die, whether or not he had saved himself above others, she could already see the answer.

“I think you’re a shitty person,” she hissed.

He smirked at her and chuckled, “not the first time I’ve heard that.”

Sayaka sighed and turned back to the now empty lobby, “she reminds me of my little sister,” she admitted. Chishiya watched her, but didn’t say anything.

She turned to face him with a hard look, “that’s why I’m concerned for her. Trust me if it comes down to you and me. I’ll kill you in a second,” she snarled and stomped away.

[jj-lynn21]

How A Girl Must Live Ch 4

Ch. 4: Dating

  Ch1: A place for singles , Ch 2: Popular Ch 3: opening up  Ch 5: Family  Ch 6 Violence begets Violence Ch 7 Love Birds

taging: @super-pink-a-palouza @luciferreads @glasglowgrin @loomiz @princessloveme123 @hornyhetero @taintedglass @bohemian-brian​ @maryan028 , @scxrsgxrd, lizziejorgie, @waywardtigersandwich​

Warnings: attempted rape, other angst,smoking, mentions of drinking, fluff

“Good luck finding a date after getting the most sought-after boy thrown out.” Missy snidely threw at Samantha as she was leaving with her escort for dinner. “Unless you are actually dating the creepy, crazy, poor, maintenance guy.”  

Samantha was flabbergasted by the statement. There was one more month on dating etiquette and how to be a lady and wife. It was all trying to brain wash young ladies into not thinking for themselves. Bowing to whatever their husband desired whenever he desired it.  

Willard made her feel special. He made her feel like her opinions meant something. He was a gentleman already without needing taught how.  It didn’t mean a thing he didn’t have a trust fund to set them up for life. And the only thing he had ever taken from her was her heart. She was still in a little denial of that. 

When he took her into town for the afternoon it was one of the best times she ever had in her life. They strolled along the sidewalk hand in hand. She adored a lot of the pretty dresses in the window.  

He told her that eventual he would like to make enough money to buy her all the dresses she wanted and the house she always dreamed of having. She especially enjoyed sharing a soda with him at the ice cream shop.

A half an hour after dinner had started for those with escorts, Samantha decided to escort herself to the dining room. As she grasped the doorknob there was a knock. When she opened it, she threw herself around him practically in tears.  

“There, there sweetheart,” Willard stroked her hair gently. “I was worried when I didn’t see you at dinner. Did your date flake out on you?”

She looked up eyes puffy, “They all hate me because that awful boy. He had money to whisk a girl away for her to live like a Princess. That is all they cared about. They don’t care how he acted towards me. They only care about his station. I don’t care about any of that.  I just care about you.”  

He talked softly, “I care about ya to. I wanted ya to get the most out of this place. I didn’t know they were treatin’ ya bad. If ya want, we will leave tomorra. Don’t even tell anyone. We will drive to your parents. I’ll tell ‘em what happened here. I wanna to ask your father permission to date you proper. Then I wanna pick ya up proper at your house for a date.”

“Really, Willard?” She started to beam at him forgetting her sadness for the moment.  

“Yes, Ma’am.” He smiled back lighting up her soul.  “Now let me sneak ya down to the kitchen. Your roommates will probably be back from dinner soon.  I’ll getcha some real food. Maybe there’s a couple of them steaks left I can get Miss Jenna to cook up for us with some taters. Pack your bags when the others fall asleep. I’ll come getcha when they go to breakfast.”  

She did not care about his station in life. She might be...maybe she could be...she was falling in love for the first time in her life. She held her head high as the others passed them in the hall staring. She held Willard’s hand proudly.  

The chef’s helper was just cleaning up as they walked in the kitchen. She looked up puzzled to see anyone in the kitchen after dinner.

“Good evening Mrs. Jenna.” Willard smiled. “Miss Samantha slept right through dinner tonight. Are there any leftovers we could have?”

Mrs. Jenna smiled. “I think there are a few steaks and salads left. Sorry there are no potatoes. But I have some peach pie for dessert. It was for the staff so none of the other students had any.”

“That is mighty kind of you Mrs. Jenna.”  Willard found some chairs pulling them up to the counter.  

Mrs. Jenna wiped down a few more things before turning to the couple. “Do you mind cleaning up after yourselves? My husband is probably waiting outside for me. I must go make dinner for him next. I think the poor man would starve without me.” She giggled like a schoolgirl.

“No problem Mrs. Jenna.” Samantha said after patting her mouth with a napkin delicately. “Thank you for throwing this together for us.”

“Anything to promote true love.” Mrs. Jenna rushed out the door.

Samantha blushed as she took a small bite of steak. They both ate quietly for a few minutes. It was a comfortable silence.  

“I can do up the dishes if you clean off the table?” Samantha suggested before she took her last bite.  

She hadn’t looked up so didn’t notice he had finished before her just admiring how she look under the dim light above them. “I can do that and dry the dishes for ya. Anything high I can put away or pick you up to do. It is always up to the lady in charge of the kitchen in my opinion. In this instance that’s you.”

She laughed. “Is that just an excuse to sweep me off my feet Willard?” She picked up his pie plate, main plate and empty water glass to wash them.  

It was Willard's turn to blush as he grabbed a wet rag from by the sink to wash off the table. “It is not only that.” he murmured.”

“What was that?” She grabbed a soapy sponge to start cleaning the things they use.

He walked over beside her to exchange his damp cloth for a dry one. “I’ll dry these up quick. I’m good at it I reckon. Better than washin’ for sure.”

“Well, I’m good at the washing so we make a good team.” She handed him a dish to dry. He just put it on the top shelf after drying it.  

Willard walked her back to her room. He rubbed is neck a little nervously as they stood by the door. “You still think you are up to introducing me to your Mother and father.”

“I sure am.” she beamed. “As soon as I know all the girls are asleep, I will pack my things quietly. I don’t think they would care much if I left anyway. Good night Mr. Willard Russel.” She leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek before scurrying off inside the room.

“Night Miss Samantha.” He realized he had not asked her last name yet. It was something he could ask tomorrow. He wanted to greet her Mother and Father proper so her Father would give him permission to date her and possibly marry his daughter someday.  

The next morning Samantha pretended to be asleep as her roommates got ready for their breakfast dates. They still whispered about her affair with Mr. Russel. How they thought she was being promiscuous with him. They were such vile girls.  

When their escorts had picked them up Samantha sprung out of bed to get ready for her adventure with Willard. She was nervous since she had never gone away with any man in a car other than her Father. But anything was less scary than staying at the resort with people that thought she was trash.  

As she finished putting the finishing touches on her light make-up routine there was a knock on the door.  Her heart leaped. She opened the door and all the excitement drained from her replaced by apprehension.

“Mr. Preston?” She put her hands on her hips angrily. “What are you doing here.”

Mr. Preston was best friends with Mr. Goodland in and out of the resort. Him, Mr. Thomas and Mr. Jonas had been taking turns with escorting and going on dates with her roommates.  

“My roommates have already been escorted to breakfast.” She started to close the door.

Mr. Preston kept it open with his hand. “I know that Miss Samantha.” He grinned lecherously as he walked in the room grabbing her upper arms pushing her back on to the bed.

“This is not how a gentleman acts, Mr. Preston.” She managed to free her hand to smack him hard in the face.  

His head bobbed back. A distinctive hand print marked him. “Oh, you like it rough. I have never had sex with a wild girl.” He pinned her arms above her head with one hand as he undid his dress pants with the other.  “You give Mr. Russel a piece, you should have no problem with me taking you. Stop squirming.” He slaps her and tries to pull her panties off under her puffy dress.  

Suddenly he is yanked off the bed with a stronger force than he had ever felt. Samantha slithered off the bed to the far wall. She was shaking. Her knees bent to her chest. Preston was glaring once he stood.  

“You will not treat women with disrespect if I have anything to do with it.” Willard Russel was breathing heavily. He was holding back what he really wanted to do to the boy since Samantha was there.  

“You and your little hussy will be thrown out of this place.” Preston screamed as he ran out the door knowing he could never beat Willard in a fight.  

Mr. Russel knelt in front of Samantha with his hand extended. “Samantha, I’m sorry about all that violence. Will you still come with me? Just forget this place completely. Mr. Jones already knows we are leavin’.”

Samantha’s eyes lifted to his slowly. “We need to leave.” Her voice was meek and shaky.

He helps her to her feet. She wraps her arms around his neck as tears flood her eyes. He picks her. Grabbed her suitcase. And heads out the door to his car. He puts her in the front seat and her suitcase in the back seat before getting in to drive away from the resort.  

“You pay no mind to what Mr. Preston said, Sam.” He popped a cigarette in the left corners of his mouth and lit it. “I already told them we we leavin’.”

Samantha wrapped the scarf from her neck around her hair so her hair wouldn’t go wild in the convertible. “Can, can I have a cigarette Mr. Russel, Willard?” She asked shakily. “It might help me calm down.”

“It sure it will little lady.” He took the pack out of his pocket to offer her one. He lit it politely. “I think it was horse shit they only let the men and boys smoke and drink around here.” He started driving away from the resort. “I was wondering if any of you partook in such things.”

“My roommates were finding places the smoke.” She took a long drag sitting back enjoying the way the wind whipped around them. “I chose to follow the rules but damn I missed it.” Her free hand shot up to her lips. “I am sorry, Willard.”

“Sorry for what, little lady?” He kept his eyes on the road as he puffed on cigarette hanging between his lips.

“That I swore.” She blushed.

Willard chuckled. “Nothin’ wrong with it in my book. Just don’t take the Lords name in vein around my Mamma.”

“You want me to meet your Mother?” Surprise was evident in her tone.

“I sure do Sam.” He smiled. “So, you just enjoy the smokin’ and swearin’. Ya do some drinkin’?

“I don’t exactly enjoy swearing.” She giggled. “I had some White Bordeaux at my cousin’s wedding I liked. I wouldn’t turn down other drinks to try if you offered, I suppose.”

“Good to know.” He took a last puff of his cigarette. Put the bud out on the staring wheel and flicked it out on to the road. “How about we stop to have one of those ice cream sodas you enjoy sharin’ with some burgers and fries. We should be going through that New York City by lunch time. They should have a good soda shop.”

“I would love that.” She squealed. “Finally, some real food.”

[prixxiey]

Hi! I made this angsty HoneyMustard drawing and decided to make a story to go with it!

Read it here or on my Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26338630

❤️ Enjoy❤️

Title:

Hoodie

Words:

1658

Summary:

Red is afraid of being in a relationship. It's too dangerous. It was a one way ticket to getting hurt...

That's why he needs to end it.

---

Red growled lowly as he paced the floor of his room. That asshole! Who needed him anyways! Sittin’ in Muffets with that drunk monster hanging off of his arm..

“Screw him. Stupid mother..argh!” Red flopped onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling blankly. Sure, its not like him and Stretch were even together now, but it had only been a week! One!

And...sure, Red was the one that had broken off the relationship...But! He needed to keep the taller skeleton from hurting him. Stretch laughing and talking to that girl just proved Red’s worries! If he was over Red that quick, what would have stopped Stretch from doing shit behind his back?

“I don’t need him...fuck that lazy, smiley, bastard…” Red hissed lowly, rubbing at his eye. He wasn’t crying, just...had something in his eye…

“Fuck..” Red whimpered softly as he rolled onto his side. As he turned, the skeleton noticed something within the darkness of his room. A dull orange color laying on his floor…

Frowning. Red shakily got up and walked over to the offending object. Had it always been lying there? Red had spent an awful long time in his room as of late..but then again, the skeleton’s room stayed so messy it was a surprise he knew anything was in there.

“Why the hell did I keep this…” Red muttered to himself as he picked up the faded orange hoodie. For a few minutes, all he did was stare at the clothing in his hands. Then, he slowly brought it to his face and breathed in..God..it still smelled like Stretch.

Cigarette smoke and honey flooded his senses.

Before he knew it, Red was sitting back on his bed, his jacket discarded and the over sized hoodie enveloping him. It was 3 sizes too big for the short skeleton, but Red didn’t care. He let his phalanges brush over rough holes in the sleeves. All of Stretch’s hoodies had cigarette burns in them like these.

As Red sat there, the tears came rushing back. It wasn’t his fault...Stretch was just gonna hurt him if they were together. That’s how relationships work. Red grew up knowing that everyone’s out to hurt you..physically and emotionally. Only idiots let themselves get screwed over…

The conversation still felt like a fresh wound…

---

“What..?” Stretch’s voice was a mix of confusion and an emotion that Red couldn’t place. The shorter skeleton glared at him. It wasn’t hard to hold eye contact with the other monster, as Stretch was lounging on his couch. Red had debated just taking the cowards way out, sending a text to do this…

“I said I don’t wanna be with you anymore. You got shit in your ears or somethin?” Red hissed, arms crossed over his chest. Stretch slowly sat up, watching Red like he was a cornered animal.

“I heard ya, honey..Just..can we sit and talk about this? Did something happen…?” He asked slowly and calmly. It pissed Red off.

“Fuck no” He growled, taking a step back as Stretch stood up. He never understood why he was so tall. Stretch was a Papyrus, but stood taller than Red’s own brother by at least a head. “I don’t wanna talk. I’m done. There’s nothin’ to talk about”

“...This is about your world, isn’t it…?” The way Stretch seemed to be staring into his soul was nerve wracking. “You don’t wanna let yourself be happy cause of how fucked things were where you’re from…” He continued, making Red internally flinch. The shorter skeleton kept an annoyed expression, though.

“Wha-” Red took another step back, mentally planning out his escape route. Something deep in his mind said it was stupid to think Stretch would hurt him, but the rational side of his brain told that thought to fuck off. Why wouldn’t Stretch want to hurt him? He was breaking up with him.

Stretch seemed to notice something was off, because he frowned and took a step away from Red. He held his hands up gently, that odd look in his eyes again.

“Hey, its okay. I’m staying over here…” Stretch mumbled softly. “I...This is your decision, Red. I’m not gonna do anything to make you stay with me. I want you to be happy, alright? If you want us to be done, then we’re done…” he continued. Red stared at him and huffed, nodding.

“Good. We’re on the same page...and tell your fucking brother to leave mine alone.” Before Stretch could say a word, Red took a short cut back to his house. This was right. This was what needed to be done. He wasn’t going to let himself get hurt.

---

Hot tears were streaming down Red’s face now, as he took another breath of honey and smoke...Of Stretch. The skeleton didn’t know what hurt more now...the idea that he had to leave to protect himself, or the pain of actually leaving. Now all he had left was a fucking hoodie that was already losing the scent of its owner.

Red felt so pathetic.

A knock at his bedroom door startled him into a growl, staring down the offending object like a kid caught with a cookie jar. Red’s brother had been harassing him since the day he came back from Stretch’s house. He was probably coming by to tell Red he was being an idiot...again.

“Fuck off Papyrus! I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now!” Red growled defensively. There was a long pause on the other side of the door before Red’s soul dropped.

“Ya know, you’re not wrong , but you're wrong” That was not his brother. Standing up, Red walked briskly to the door and yanked it open. Standing there was a tired looking Stretch. His sockets widened slightly at the sight of Red. Oh…

Red was still wearing the hoodie.

“Hey honey…” Stretched started, his eye lights staying locked on the shorter skeleton’s face. At hearing the nickname, Red glowered at the lanky monster.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed, face flushed red from both embarrassment and from his crying. Stretch was silent for a second before he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Your brother called me. Uh..something about your magic flaring up and you being locked in your room…?” Stretch trailed off. Red blinked and slowly looked back into his room.

It was a mess.

Sure, Red’s room stayed a mess...but it was destroyed. The wallpaper was ripped and his furniture was strewn around with his clothes in varying stages of destruction. Well...shit. Slowly, Red looked back towards the other skeleton, sweat beading on his skull.

“Mind if I come in…?” Stretch asked. For what seemed like minutes, but was surely only seconds, Red stared up at him. Then, with a huff and a feeling of defeat, the shorter monster took a step back, letting Stretch inside.

Red retreated to the familiarity and safety of his bed, which was one of the only things left untouched in the ruined room. The door shut after Stretch walked inside, but it didn’t really matter. Their eyes were adjusted to existing in low light anyway. Stretch approached the bed slowly, like he was walking towards a frightened animal. Though, that comparison would work for Red in this moment.

“Can I show you something, Sans..?”

Red wasn’t sure what had him more flustered, Stretch sitting less than a foot away form him..or the fact that he wasn’t using their nicknames...but his face felt hot as he glanced at the skeleton.

“Whatever...s’ a free country” Red muttered, unsure of where Stretch was taking this conversation. The shorter monster waited and felt his breath hitch as a light filled the area around them.

It was his soul.

Red knew he shouldn’t stare..pulling out your own soul like this was so...intimate. In Red’s universe..trusting someone this stupidly was a straight shot to getting you killed. His face reddened more, eye lights flitting from the soul to Stretch’s face.

“I- What-” He whispered, but even that sounded loud in this silence.

“Check me” Stretch said simply, his soul floating casually between them. Both skeletons were the judges of their respective universes, and kept their souls locked away tightly. Red had never checked the taller monster and he had never been checked himself by Stretch. His brow furrowed as he did as instructed.

Papyrus. Lv 1. 1 HP…

*He loves you.

Red flinched at this revelation. Of course something deep in his own soul knew this already...but it was so terrifying to accept the truth. For some time, the two just sat in silence. Red was fighting an internal battle with himself, but one side finally won. His hand trembled and sweat beaded on his skull as he tried to will his soul out.

“Stop” Stretch grabbed Red by the hand, stopping the soft glow that was starting to form. Red’s eyes snapped up, brows scrunching together with hurt.

“Shh...it’s not what you think, honey. You aren’t ready for that. That’s okay. I wanted to do this, but I don’t expect it back from you” The taller monster murmured softly

“You’ve gone through too much. Showing me your soul is just gonna make things worse. I’m happy to wait as long as you need, but...I need you to know I’m never gonna hurt you. We can take things one step at a time in this thing we have. Just don’t push me away when you’re feeling scared…” Stretch continued. Red gulped and glanced away, hesitating. Those thoughts of survival told him that Stretch was lying, that this was all a ploy...but one look at that soul innocently existing between them.

“...I...Alright…” Red murmured, lacing their hands together. Things wouldn’t change over night, but this was a step in the right direction.

[cyberdva]

Chemistry- Richie Tozier X Reader (Imagine ☆)

Imagine- Chemistry 

Summary- Y/N and Richie are assigned Chemistry partners from the upcoming school year. While the two never really talked they grew closer. Richie tried his best with all of the experiences, but always seemed to mess up somehow. He came up with a list of the class rules and made a pact to break every single one of them before the end of the year. As much as Y/N thinks it’s funny she needs to get some work done. Follow their weird experiences and watch their relationship grow throughout their school year.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Main Masterlist

IT Masterlist

Word Count: 3.1k

Date Uploaded: 11/6/19

Warnings: Cursing

 ☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

September 1st 1990

“Alright class, settle down.”

Tables sat in single two by two rows, not one single seat was empty. Richie Tozier sat in the far right corner, he liked sitting in the back, no one paid much attention to him if he did. Another boy sat beside him clearly not interested in this class either. Every kid had dreaded the first day of school, they were placed in the same building with the same people for another 180 days of hell. The boy’s eyes dilated to his surroundings, bottles and huge file cabinets boxxed him in. The bright LED lights buzzed overhead him.

“I know all of you guys are very excited for this class and I hope you are all prepared. We have a long list of activities we have to get done before the end of this quarter. Hopefully some of you will enjoy them.” the class groaned. The teacher, who had yet to introduce himself, nodded. Just as he suspected everyone didn’t want to be here, it added to the enthusiasm of teaching.

He waved the chatter away, “Ok, I’m Mr.Leachermen or just call me Mr.L.” Few kids laughed at the long name and Mr.L gave out a soft sigh, another fabulous year is bright ahead and it’s only the first period.

“Our lessons are split into four quarters, you will have an assessment on all the topics covered at the end of every one. Be prepared because I know handfuls of students who don’t bother studying, yet it’s a fifth of your grade.” Students stared at him with beady eyes, none of them had names to him, just kids. In the back of his mind a seating chart was beginning to form.

He wiped his nearly bald head as the sun was beating down from the half covered windows, ”Our first two quarters will be extremely math heavy and if anyone has trouble with that kind of stuff I suggest coming in early for help.” One or two kids wrote down a mental note and Mr. L grab a few note cards and a pile of papers to hand out. He began to hand one out to each student.

      Lab Safety Rules   

If a fire erupts notify the teacher immediately.

Eye protection MUST be worn any time chemicals, heat, or glassware is used.

Ask the teacher if you don’t understand a direction, or any part of the laboratory procedures.

After completing an experiment, all chemical waste should be disposed of according to your teacher’s directions.

If you are injured during a lab (cut, burn, etc.) you should tell a teacher immediately. 

 Long hair in the laboratory must be tied back or kept entirely out of the way with a hair band, etc. 

Loose clothing, dangling jewelry, and sandals are not to be worn during lab activity. 

Horseplay, practical jokes, or pranks in the classroom are always against the rules. 

If a piece of equipment is not working tell the teacher.

You should always wash your hands with soap and water.

Eating and chewing gum are not permitted in the lab.

When cutting using a razor blade or scalpel always cut material away from you. 

Always raise your hand when wanting to speak in class.

No drinking in class.

No water or drinking in class.

If you are late more than three times disciplinarian action will be enforced.

The tired teens glanced over the paper as their teacher went over the basic rules, he wanted to make an emphasis on how they should not be broken under any circumstances. 

“If anyone does continuously break these laws I will be executing detentions for each problem, if it manages to get any worse parental contact will be a factor.”

This part perked Richie’s ears, he loved to be a class clown and this might be his chance.

“You will be given a 22 point quiz on this topic, but it’s extremely easy so I wouldn’t worry about it. Other topics we’ll be covering this unit is Bohr Models, balancing equations, and the periodic table of elements.” Blank stares were the only exchange between the pupils. Mr. L has no idea what to do, the first day was always a pain in the ass.

He sighed, “Since we’re not getting anything done today I’ll be assigning lab partners.” This seemed to get the majority of the class interested. Some kids looked around for someone they knew, but for most, they were screwed.

The teacher grabbed the attendance list, ”I’ll just spitball some random names. Everyone please grab your things and stand in the front of the class.” The kids shuffled up and piled in the front.

“Ok at this first table Marcus K. and Tida M.” Two kids pushed through the abundance of others and sat uncomfortably next to each other. Mr. L kept assigning pairs, Richie awkwardly stood in the middle of all of it, oblivious to what was going on around him, until he heard his name.

“Richie Tozier and Y/N L/N over hear in the left corner.” A girl emerged from beside him, Richie had never seen her before, he followed behind. Near the back was their table. A small bucket of water sat by a table leg. Both of them exchanged a stare and sat down. Sooner or later Mr. L had sat the entire class out. 

He took a swig of coffee and sleepily looked around, “There isn’t anything else planned for today, talk amongst your partners.” It was quiet for awhile before the chatter began.

“Hi, I’m Richie.” He turned to his partner for a better look.

She glanced back at him, “I know,” she laughed breathlessly, “I’m Y/N.”

They just looked at each other, not knowing what to talk about. 

“So, you liking the weather today?” Richie scratched the back of his neck. He couldn’t crack out any jokes just yet.

“That’s really the first thing you thought to ask?”

“I dunno, what do you want to talk about?”

“You got me there, any insights on this idiotic class?”

“Not liking it so far, but I have an idea to make it a bit more enjoyable…”

She tilted her head, “You better have a really good idea to make this ‘enjoyable.’

“I think it’s good, I’m going to break every rule this year.”

“I’d like to see you try, Tozier.”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

September 27th 1990

“Does everyone have their goggles on?”

The class let out a few murmurs of the word ‘yes.’ The multi-colored goggles were slapped onto their faces and would leave a harsh imprint by the time they were done.

Richie leaned over to his partner, “I’m going to break the first rule.”

Her eyes went wider, “How are you going to set something on fire without anyone noticing?”

“No idea.”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Everyone turn on the burner in front of them and grab the cotton swab labeled magnesium. If this is done correctly the flame should be turned into a different, bright color.”

Richie grabbed a sheet of Claim, Evidence, and Reasoning notes and through his copy of the Science Safety Rules at Y/N. She held onto it underneath the table. His hand shakily turned on the micro burner and slid the paper underneath. The flame caught on and smoke began to rise. Y/N quickly drew a line through rule Number One. Unbenounced to the entire room this small flame triggered the fire alarms. The loud ringing caught everyone’s ears and Richie threw the paper onto the ground and hit it as much as he could with his foot. It went out as the class began filing out.

They weren't caught.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Lab Safety Rules   

 ̶1̶.̶If a fire erupts notify the teacher immediately.

2. Eye protection MUST be worn any time chemicals, heat, or glassware is used. 

3. Ask the teacher if you don’t understand a direction, or any part of the laboratory procedures.

4. After completing an experiment, all chemical waste should be disposed of according to your teacher’s directions.

5. If you are injured during a lab (cut, burn, etc.) you should tell a teacher immediately. 

6.  Long hair in the laboratory must be tied back or kept entirely out of the way with a hair band, etc. 

7. Loose clothing, dangling jewelry, and sandals are not to be worn during lab activity. 

8. Horseplay, practical jokes, or pranks in the classroom are always against the rules. 

9. If a piece of equipment is not working tell the teacher.

 10. You should always wash your hands with soap and water.

 11. Eating and chewing gum are not permitted in the lab. 

 12. When cutting using a razor blade or scalpel always cut material away from you. 

13. Always raise your hand when wanting to speak in class.

14. No drinking in class.

15.No water or drinking in class.

16. If you are late more than three times disciplinarian action will be enforced.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

December 13th 1990

“Which rule are we breaking today my good sir?” Y/N curtsied at her close friend. As the year went on the two grew closer and closer. He introduced her to the rest of the Losers Club and Y/N and Stanley began to bond. 

Richie pondered and pulled the rule sheet out of the pocket of his oversized pants, “How about Number 11?”

She nodded, “Do you have any gum?”

“You know it!” He grabbed some spearmint gum and plopped it in his mouth. Richie made sure to make it completely obvious that he had gum. The two walked to class and the boy blew loud bubbles right in front of everyone. He got sent some weird glares, the student body knew about the strict gum rule and knew what was coming at Richie. He hid it as they walked into the classroom and the two giggled as they made their way to their desks.

Mr.L began to teach and Richie started chewing and blowing bubbles. Two or three people turned around, so, of course, he began to do it worse. Over and over again until it disrupted the entire class.

“Mr. Tozier, go spit out the gum and fill out a slip for detention, you know the rules. Watch it.” The class gave out melodic sets of ‘ooohs.’ Rich nodded and got up to do as he was told. When he walked by Y/N his whispered in her ear.

“Hey Y/N, want to see a movie after my detention?”

She stopped jotting down notes and looked up, “A date?” 

“A date.”

“Meet you here at 5.”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Lab Safety Rules   

̶ ̶̶̶

1̶.̶If a fire erupts notify the teacher immediately.

2. Eye protection MUST be worn any time chemicals, heat, or glassware is used. 

3. Ask the teacher if you don’t understand a direction, or any part of the laboratory procedures.

4. After completing an experiment, all chemical waste should be disposed of according to your teacher’s directions.

5. If you are injured during a lab (cut, burn, etc.) you should tell a teacher immediately. 

6.  Long hair in the laboratory must be tied back or kept entirely out of the way with a hair band, etc. 

7. Loose clothing, dangling jewelry, and sandals are not to be worn during lab activity. 

8. Horseplay, practical jokes, or pranks in the classroom are always against the rules. 

9. If a piece of equipment is not working tell the teacher.

 10. You should always wash your hands with soap and water.

 11. Eating and chewing gum are not permitted in the lab. 

 12. When cutting using a razor blade or scalpel always cut material away from you. 

13. Always raise your hand when wanting to speak in class.

14. No drinking in class.

15.No water or drinking in class.

16. If you are late more than three times disciplinarian action will be enforced.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

June 6th, 1991

“I think we’re gonna do Number 16 today, you’ve been late two times this week. Why not push it to one more?”

Richie grinned, “That sounds perfect N/N.”

“Don’t call me that. I hate it when you call me that. Just go hide in the bathroom, this is going to be good.” Richie skipped away and the girl walked alone to her first period class. Everything went swimmingly, final exams were approaching and a study period was beginning. Around 20 minutes later Richie comes in whistling throwing a rubber ball on the ground. Everyone turned to look at him as he signed the late book, as he broke the final rule. He did it.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

“Richie, may I speak to you after class?”

He looked at Y/N.

“We did it.”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Lab Safety Rules  

1̶.̶If a fire erupts notify the teacher immediately.

2. Eye protection MUST be worn any time chemicals, heat, or glassware is used. 

3. Ask the teacher if you don’t understand a direction, or any part of the laboratory procedures.

4. After completing an experiment, all chemical waste should be disposed of according to your teacher’s directions.

5. If you are injured during a lab (cut, burn, etc.) you should tell a teacher immediately. 

6.  Long hair in the laboratory must be tied back or kept entirely out of the way with a hair band, etc.

 7. Loose clothing, dangling jewelry, and sandals are not to be worn during lab activity. 

8. Horseplay, practical jokes, or pranks in the classroom are always against the rules. 

9. If a piece of equipment is not working tell the teacher. 

10. You should always wash your hands with soap and water. 

11. Eating and chewing gum are not permitted in the lab.  

12. When cutting using a razor blade or scalpel always cut material away from you. 

13. Always raise your hand when wanting to speak in class.

14. No drinking in class.

15.No water or drinking in class.

16. If you are late more than three times disciplinarian action will be enforced.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

[fics-not-tragedies]

A lesson to teach me: Part Two

one - two - three - four - five

After 84 years I finally got to writing this one! Also @mikaneonox and @fanficsrusz you two deserve a special dedication for being super excited when I told ya about how I’m working on it 💕

SUMMARY: Professor Keanu surprises you in the cafe you’re working at and after ending your shift just to have a quite romantic coffee ‘date’ with him, you find yourselves in the supply room of your coffee shop dusty with cocoa powder. Words: 3116; Warnings: smut;

Readers tag list:

@spookier-than-u; @sparrowsparrow; @oreofenyloetyloamina; @derangedcupcake; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @drunkonyellow; @semtempoirmaoo; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @a--1--1--3; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login; @sgt-morgan; @coloursunlimited; @childrenofthegun; @weminiaturestrawberry; @silverlambcaptain; @scarletmoon83; @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day; @krazycags01; @charlottebonnie; @moonlit-raven-haven; @girl-at-the-verge; 

You tried to dust off your flowery apron as you came back from the utility room into the front of the coffee shop, you sighed when you noticed the long line that had formed at the counter which your co-worker was desperately trying to manage it all by herself.

Your hands were still dusty from the cocoa powder from the bag that you tried to tame from falling from the shelf in the back area and after a quick wash of your hands you stepped to the other end of the counter, telling some customers to walk over to you, the queue instantly unloading as half of the people ran over to your register.

There was a familiar figure at the end of your line, looking down at the book he held in his hands, being absolutely consumed by it, only moving his eyes to look up briefly, so he could be sure he wasn’t bumping into someone in front of him and when you saw his face, noticing how his chocolate eyes lit up when he noticed you, the book being closed by his large hands immediately, his attention focused only on you, your heart skipped a beat.

Professor Reeves.

The smile that grew on his face when your eyes met made your heart flutter and all you wanted now was to ditch your shift, pull him in the back room and feel the taste of his lips while the cocoa dust falls onto your hair.

He mouthed ‘my little girl’ and shoot you one of the cocky grins that were driving you insane every time you saw it, making your legs a little weaker.

“Excuse me?”

You looked up at the woman whose coffee you were making staring at you, “Y-yes…? What’s wrong ma’am?” you asked quickly, trying to figure out what possibly could be wrong with her drink.

“The lid? It was a take-away coffee miss” she eyed you carefully, probably thinking that you were high on something.

“Oh, yes, you’re right” you said placing the black lid onto the paper cup filled with her coffee, “I’m sorry. Thank you, have a nice day!” blurting out you smiled at her, but she just grimaced her face and walked out of the door.

Sighing loudly you called for the next customer only to see that for your surprise it was Keanu’s turn. He slowly walked over to your part of the counter, leaning onto it like he was desperate to get closer to you.

“I was thinking on asking you for a date just to go to this cafe, but to my surprise: you’re working here” his large hand grasps your that seems tiny compared to the size of his and he lifts your palm, but only slightly, before he bows down to plant a soft kiss to your skin, “I never thought that cocoa could taste so sexy” he mumbles into your hand before the tip of his tongue swirls across it, leaving a little wet patch.

You’re happy that the cafe got empty now, so there’s no one to see how red your face got and how you were struggling to breath, seeing how his dark eyes were glued to you, giving you the same lustful stare he kept on your face while you were sucking him off in his office.

“I work here since the beginning of this semester and yet we haven’t met here earlier” you raised your eyebrow at him making him giggle a little.

“It’s because I come here mostly when you have your lectures little girl” the nickname was driving you insane and you just moaned internally, your body aching for him.

“What’s your order then?” it was a really hard time for you to remain calm, all you had in your mind was the sound of his little moans while you were sliding his dick down your throat.

“I saw you behind the counter and absolutely forgot what I wanted to order… would you like to surprise me little girl? You’ve already done that before” Keanu winks at you, leaning with his elbow onto the counter.

“Keanu!” a female voice chirps as the bell hung over the entry doors indicates with its jingling sound that someone just walked inside.

“Janet” he tried to mimic her joy, but failed at is miserably.

Just not fucking Janet this time too... you thought to yourself before speaking to him, “I’ll prepare your order then” he gave you a small smile like he desperately wanted to be saved from the encounter with her.

“You should be finishing love” your co-worker said to you gripping your shoulder a little.

“Just one last order and I’m leaving” you were trying to focus on preparing his coffee and not listening to their conversation, but their words were flying straight into your ears without you even knowing.

“You come here even on your free days?” Janet asks him and your stomach does a somersault, it’s too obvious that he just wants to bang him.

“Yes, they have the best coffee in the whole city here” even though you didn’t see his face you could hear the smirk that formed on his lips in his voice, the ‘best coffee’ probably meant the fact that you were working here.

“Oh, I feel like we should came here like, together, one day” she chirped again and you felt the urge to strangle her to death. You were glad that your shift was over and you didn’t had to serve her.

You placed the steaming mug in front of him with a loud thud, but still winking a little, hoping she hasn’t noticed it.

He took a big gulp of his coffee, making a surprised face, before speaking to you “It’s so good, what’s that?” he asks you and you untie your apron, slowly walking to the social are of the coffee shop.

“It’s double caramel americano” you say before disappearing behind the doors that says ‘private’.

When you come back he’s luckily alone, at least, finishing the drink you prepared him.

You two move to have a sit in the corner of the place, at a table that’s rarely used, so it feels like it’s your private one, where no one can bother you.

“I graded your finals last night” Keanu spoke softly, his hand moving to gently grasp yours.

“How I did on it?” you’re sipping your own coffee, that already got cold, but you need it nonetheless.

“100 on 100, which means A+” he winks at you, before leaning over the table, his mouth close to your ear, “I still think your cock-sucking skills deserve an A+ too” his mumble makes you blush, your face turning raw red and you hide it in your hands for a moment.

“What’s behind that doors there?” he asks, pointing with his fingers towards the silver doors that are on the wall behind your back.

“It’s our storage room” you say and his eyebrow raises, then he stand up from his chair and walks over to that doors.

When he disappeared inside the back room you waited few more seconds before following his steps, so the whole situation wouldn’t be too suspicious.

You heard his hitched breath, your eyes not quite used to the darkness around you yet and you gently close the doors behind you, turning the lock, so no one would bother you.

“Why haven’t you switched the light on?” you ask him, flicking the switch by yourself, knowing its placement on the wall by your heart. The light bulb just hisses at you, not lighting up.

“Because it doesn’t work” suddenly, you feel his hand on your shoulder, tensing for a moment, before his whole body is pressed firmly to yours, pushing you onto the nearest rack.

Keanu breath out shakily, his hands gripping your waist tightly and this time, you made the first move. You leaned in, your lips just gently brushing his for a moment, you can feel how his hand moves to the back of your neck, fingertips grazing over your side, grabbing onto it and drawing you in properly, his lips pressed closely to yours, your eyes fluttering shut even though you were wrapped in the darkness already.

It seemed like your heart decided to skip a beat every time you two got that close to each other and you couldn’t help yourself kissing him back instantly, moving your lips with his in sync, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he push you forward onto the shelf, a rattling sound snapping you out of the kissing haze, indicating that something fell onto the floor making a dull thudding noise, but you were too busy with him to even care about the falling item.

He sighed into the kiss, the sound muffled by your mouth, his fingers rubbing into the back of your neck. His touches felt even more electric than before, sending shivers down your spine and you pressed yourself closer to him, gasping into the kiss when you felt his hard cock pressed into your thigh, strained under the fabric of his jeans.

His mouth slid from yours to kiss your jawline, then moved further down onto your neck, where he mumbled few incoherent words into your skin, making you press your hands to his ass, giving it a little cheeky squeeze, then your fingers moved to his head, running through his hair, twisting the strands around your fingers.

You tugged on his hair lightly, tilting his head backwards so you could press your lips to his once again, kissing him even more needily and arching your body into his, feeling his hand moving down your side, grabbing at your arse. Keanu’s lips were soft and you could taste the coffee on his tongue, mixing with a hint of smoke; you were now literally aching for more, aching for him, for his body, so you let your hand wander down his chest, to his belly, before cupping the hard bulge in his jeans, palming him through its fabric.

He groaned, breaking the kiss and rolling his hips into the touch of your hand, resting his forehead against yours, his hot breath tickling your lips and you pressed your legs together, moaning quietly, “Tell me little girl… are you wet already?” he drawled, the dulcet done of his voice mixed with the darkness around you was only fueling your lust for him.

Keanu grabbed your wrist, pinned it above your head and you sighed when he pressed his knee between your legs pushing them apart, his hand moving under your skirt, pulling it upwards, letting it pool around your waist, as he rubbed your folds through the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

“K-Keanu…” you breath out his name, hearing the guttural groan that falls from his lips and your head fallback against the shelf, your eyes getting shut as you buck your hips forward into his touch, “P-Please, I need you…” you whimpered, “touch me…”

“I wanted to do this to you since the first time I saw you on my lecture…” he coaxed, pressing his lips onto yours again, the kiss surprisingly soft, too soft for your liking, while his fingers were slowly circling your entrance, his thumb barely grazing your clit.

You moaned into his mouth, feeling how your heart beats faster, “Mmmm, yes…” you whimpered when his skilled fingers moved your panties aside and slowly slid inside you.

“Mmm, you’re so wet, little girl…” he pushed two fingers deep inside you, your walls clenching around them as they filled you up nicely and your hips bucked forward again in attempt to get him closer, then he made a curling motion, making you jolt and cry out with pleasure, holding on to his shoulder with your legs trembling.

“F-Fuck, r-right there please!” you whimpered.

“Mmmm, I like to hear you” he breathed into your ear, curling his fingers inside you again and holding them in place, pressing just into the right spot that made your head pirouette, “Right there, hmm? That’s the right spot?”

You nodded eagerly, like he was about to see it, then wrapped your hand around his wrist, “Y-yes, please… d-do it again” you cried, your hips shaking, impatient in waiting for his another move.

When he picked up the pace of his fingers, brushing continuously into the right spot, fingering you faster, his thumb brushing against your clit. You moaned loudly, whimpering when he curled his fingers deep inside you once again, his thumb pressing down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure which sent you over the edge, your legs shaking, loud gasps falling from your open mouth, as the pleasure consumed you.

You gripped tightly onto his shoulder to hold yourself still, feeling how your walls clenched around his fingers.

“Mmmm, so wet … came all over my fingers…” he whispered, pressing little kisses to your jaw, then down your neck before drawing his fingers out of you, making you whimper.

Your arm was still pinned above your head with his one hand and you felt some shuffling between your bodies that probably meant he moved the other one to undo his belt, then his zipper followed shortly afterwards.

Keanu’s hand gripped yours, taking it from his arm, then moving it to his cock, making you wrap your fingers around him, feeling how hard he already was.

“You’re so fucking big...” your breath was still uneven as you panted, giving him few tugs, making him jolt his hips towards you, few little gasps leaving his mouth.

“F-Fuck, you want it, don’t you?” he asked, pushing his hand between your legs again, teasingly circling your clit.

“I-I NEED you inside me… Keanu just p-please fuck me…” you whimpered, not even caring about the filthy words that were leaving your mouth. You wanted him so badly you could actually taste it, “Keanu p-please…”

You guided his between your legs, lifting one to rest on the higher shelf, rubbing his tip against your entrance “Say me name again little girl…” he groaned.

Taking a deep breath before speaking you almost moaned out his name “Keanu…” you breath out, hearing his racing heartbeat in the dark room, “Just… please…”

Without a warning he closes the space between your bodies once again, letting his cock sink inside you, stretching your walls, making you drop your head down onto his shoulder, biting down on the sensitive skin in the crook of his neck, crying out desperately and clinging to him closer, your both hands tugging on his hair.

He moaned loudly, holding himself steady for a moment, shifting closer to you, placing one hand under your thigh, lifting your leg even higher, making you groan loudly when he sank deeper inside you and he pressed you further onto the shelf, his thick cock throbbing inside you, as he filled you up.

His lips were so close to your ear than you could hear all of the softest moans and groans that were escaping from his lips.

“Oh f-fuck…” you cried when you felt how he slowly drew back right before sinking inside you again, the pace torturous but steady. Another orgasm was slowly building up inside you, his soft groans were slowly turned into louder ones, turning you on even mores as you clung onto him tightly, your whole body becoming weak and you knew you would’ve fallen if you weren’t wrapped in the strong grip of his arms.

“Say me name, little girl, say my name again” he whispered, nibbling softly on your earlobe.

You moaned loudly, your nails scratching lightly at the back of his neck, “Keanu, f-fuck, your cock feels amazing” you whimpered, your head dropping backwards, meeting with the cold steel of the shelf. You felt yourself tighten around him, so close again, his throbbing length buried deep inside him.

“You’re so fucking tight” he groaned, mumbling against your neck, moaning louder when he felt you come undone without a warning, just a cry of pleasure leaving your lips, your fingers pulling at his hair again, as your muscles clenched around his cock, making you writhe in his arms and you held tighter onto him when he fucked you through your orgasm.

“I’m so close… just one more, little girl, cum with me again...”

“Keanu, just... f-f-fuckfuckfuck…” you cried out, being too over-sensitive now and everything became too much for you when you tightened around him weakly again as your third orgasm approached.

“You feel fucking amazing…” he moaned, biting down on your neck, making sure he’ll have a mark for later, his hips bucked up into yours and he buried himself deep inside you, emptying his throbbing cock inside you, groaning your name with his lips so close to your ear. His hot release spilling inside you triggered your own orgasm and you cried out his name again, falling limp in his arms, your body shaking with pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you and you could barely even cling onto him anymore.

He held himself inside you, panting against your neck, your breathing still heavy and you ran your fingers gently through his hair, “Fucking wow…”

Keanu laughed softly, nudging your nose gently with his before pecking your lips, “Have you ever fucked someone here before?”

“No, you are the first and only one” you mumbled.

“I like that” you could hear the smirk in his voice, his hips bucking up into yours again, his cock nudging deep inside you and you cried out quietly before whimpering as he pulled out of you, carefully setting you leg down onto the ground, “but we should repeat that in more usual conditions.”

You fixed your underwear along with your skirt, the sound of him zipping back his pants echoed in the room and you walked over to the doors, unlocking it, “Are you ready?” and his ‘mhm’ cut through the silence.

When you walked back into the cafe noticing that there’s no-one around, even your co-worker was somewhere else now, you just pulled him after you with your hand gripping the hem of his sleeve.

“You look… dusty” Keanu said and you turned around to look at him. His hair and shoulders were covered in cocoa powder, apparently so were yours. He made double check that there was nobody in sight, before he walked closer to you and licked your cheek, “So fucking tasty” his hand gave your arse a squeeze, “Let’s go to my place, clean ourselves up and later I’ll give you a nice massage. I bet you’re all tense after work.”

“Just like you’re reading my mind” you winked at him and you two walked out of the coffee shop.

[solarune]

that warm, fuzzy feeling

pairing(s): best friend!mark x reader, jaehyun x reader, 127 x reader

genre: college au, fluff, slight angst if you squint

warnings: recreational drug use, pining best friend!mark, you and jaehyun shotgun, takes place from mark’s pov

word count: 2,087

a/n: this is very self-indulgent but you know what? that’s ok. this is a lot longer than i thought it would be but i hope y’all enjoy nonetheless!!

The smoke floating in front of the lights looks almost otherworldly, your eyes watching as it languidly drifts upwards before scattering when it hits the ceiling. Mark is staring at something too, but it’s not the smoke; he feels a warm fuzziness in his chest—not from the weed, mind you—as you look up in awe, a fond smile unknowingly appearing on his face. The heavy bass behind the R&B song being played makes his bones feel like they’re vibrating as you slowly lower your head back down. Across from the two of you, Johnny blows out another cloud of smoke as the joint that was previously pinched between his fingers is passed on to his roommate, Yuta.

It’s almost your turn so Mark figures it’s probably time to rouse you out of whatever you were daydreaming about. He taps your knee lightly, your head whipping around to reveal wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. “Hey,” the boy murmurs, his thumb rubbing at the fabric of your jeans as you raise an eyebrow at him curiously. “Are you okay? You looked pretty spaced out for a second.”

You let out a snort at his words, scooting closer to where he was leaning against the couch in order to lean on him. “I’m high, of course I’m spaced out,” you retort. “I was watching the smoke, it looked cool.” You point at the spot that you were looking at, Mark’s eyes glancing in that direction for a brief second before looking back at you and laughing at the innocent expression on your face. “Why are you laughing at me, stop,” you whine, your eyes narrowing as Mark bites his lower lip in an attempt to stifle his laughter.

“I’m not,” Mark swears as he purses his lips together, his eyes lingering on your lips that were pushed out into a pout. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. I just thought that was cute, is all.” Yuta passes the joint to you, grabbing the lighter from the floor and lighting your hit for you just as the four of you hear a knock on the door.

“I’ve got it,” Mark says with a sigh, abandoning your warmth in favor of heaving himself up off of the floor to answer the door (because he knew that the 3 of you would just argue about who should open it). He hears another knock, this time louder, as he walks towards the entryway and the dark-haired boy can’t help but mutter out a “Jeez, impatient much?” as he opens the door. Outside stands Jaehyun and Doyoung, both of them smelling very strongly of coffee since they came over right after their shift at the coffeeshop closer to campus.

You let out a cough as the two of them step into the apartment, Mark greeting the two older boys quietly as Johnny and Yuta shout their greetings from across the room. Clouds of smoke float around you as you continue to cough and Yuta hands you a water bottle with a sympathetic smile. “Jesus, Mark, where the hell did you get this stuff?” you croak out after taking a few sips. “It hits so fast.”

“Yukhei got it for me,” Mark answers, going back to his spot next to you on the floor as Jaehyun and Doyoung sit down on the couch the two of you were leaning against. “Kept saying he owed me because I always let him take hits from my dab pen.” You stretch out your arm to hand him the weed and the lighter, your head making its way to his chest as he flicks the lighter and deeply inhales. “I didn’t think he would get me an eighth though; he said he got it from his cousin and only paid like 50 bucks for it,” the boy continues, voice muffled and smoke trailing out of his mouth as he speaks. “Meanwhile, I’ve been going to school with Yunho since high school and the guy still charges me 45 for a gram!” He passes to Doyoung next, his arm resting along your shoulders as yours stretches across his stomach.

“You know,” a voice rings out, everyone’s heads whipping around to find Taeyong, Mark’s cousin and Johnny and Yuta’s other roommate, toeing off his shoes in front of the entrance. “Being related to someone isn’t exactly the same as going to the same school as someone for 6 years.” The 4 boys around Mark laugh, his face heating up as his cousin makes his way over to where all of you are sitting. “Sicheng can’t make it tonight by the way, he’s too tired. He was at the studio for hours practicing for his upcoming showcase, even before I went over to help him,” the blonde announces, thanking Jaehyun as he accepts the rolled up paper and lighter from him. Sicheng and Taeyong attend the same dance academy but didn’t know that they had a mutual friend until Jaehyun attempted to introduce the two to each other at a party that his frat was hosting. “Where’s everyone else though?”

“Taeil has the closing shift tonight at work,” Doyoung answers, not even bothering to look up as he packs another joint to add to the rotation. “We saw Jungwoo just as we were leaving too, but he said he has a lot of homework and an exam on Monday to study for.” He digs through the pocket of his jeans and pulls out his own lighter a few seconds later, pressing the button a few times before successfully producing a flame to burn the paper and handing it to you.

“Hyuck and the rest of the freshmen went to some party,” you answer around the newly rolled joint in your mouth, inhaling slowly to allow everything to burn evenly. “Said it was for the Chinese Student Association or something. Renjun is taking them. They’re coming here after though, just to say hi and so Mark and I can walk home with them.”

Johnny sits up at that, letting out a forlorn sigh at the mention of the college dorm life. “What I would give to be living at school with a meal plan again,” he says as he shakes his head, wiping away a fake tear as Yuta rolls his eyes beside him. “I hate cooking.”

Taeyong lets out a noise at that, Mark turning his head and laughing when he sees the look of disbelief on his cousin’s face as he stares at his roommate. “Johnny, I’m the only one that cooks in this apartment, what the hell are you talking about?” He steals the water bottle from in front of you, taking a sip and returning it with a wink which causes you to roll your eyes but causes Mark to subconsciously tighten his grip around your shoulders. “And before you say anything, making scrambled eggs hardly counts.”

As everyone around him laughs, Mark gently nudges you off of him, getting up to go to the bathroom. “At least I know how to make eggs!” Johnny protests, and Mark prays to God that he doesn’t bring up what he thinks Johnny is about to bring up. “Because it’s pretty obvious that Mark doesn’t!” And there it is.

Mark feels his ears heat up at that, turning around to see Johnny pointing at him while everyone else recalls the time he tried to fry an egg with chopsticks and failed miserably. “Hyung, if you’re gonna talk shit about me, at least wait until I leave the room.”

When Mark comes back from the bathroom, he’s welcomed by the screams of Doyoung as he frantically tries to get back on the course, 4 pairs of eyes glued to the television screen as they play Mario Kart. Him, Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta had formed a semi-circle on the floor around the TV while you had abandoned the floor in favor of the spot next to Jaehyun on the couch. Mark feels his chest tighten when he sees Jaehyun’s hand on your thigh and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes when you throw your head back in laughter at something that the frat boy had said. He grabs one of the joints lying on one of the arms of the couch, along with Doyoung’s lighter, and retreats to the bean bag in the corner of the room.

He makes eye contact with Taeyong as he manages to successfully get the paper to burn and it’s like his cousin knows that something’s wrong, that something happened in the past few minutes that caused Mark to feel off. Taeyong slowly looks around the room as the other boys fight over which course they should play next, all of them oblivious to the silent conversation occurring. When his eyes land on you and Jaehyun talking on the couch, Mark can practically feel the pity oozing out of him. But Mark didn’t want Taeyong’s pity. He just wanted you to be next to him. So when Taeyong looks back at Mark with sad eyes, Mark just shrugs to say, “What can I do?” But his cousin narrows his eyes at that to tell him, “Idiot, you know what you can do.” And yes, Mark does know what he can do but he is way too much of a chicken to confess his feelings to you. Why risk ruining his friendship and losing you when he could just bottle up his feelings and—Mark’s eyes are drawn to the couch when he hears a noise and they widen when he sees Jaehyun’s lips pressed against yours, smoke trickling out of your mouths as the two of you kiss—and suffer as he watches you shotgun with Jaehyun.

The boy’s hands shake as he brings the joint up to his lips, taking a deep inhale just as they hear another knock on the door. He closes his eyes as he feels a warmth begin in his chest and radiate out to his lungs, allowing himself a few seconds to revel in the feeling before exhaling through his nose. The smoke lingers around his head, distorting your figure as you shakily make your way over to him and the bean bag he’s sitting on. “You’re still smoking, Mark?” you ask, concern evident in your eyes as you look down at him. “Are you sure you’ll be okay to go home?”

Mark takes another drag, his mind finally feeling fuzzy enough for him to fully relax, and he nods at your questions as he blows out rings of smoke above him. “I’ll be fine,” he answers, images of you and Jaehyun playing out in his mind briefly before he shakes them away. He hears someone yell his name and a smile breaks out across his face when he sees Jeno making his ways towards him with Renjun, Jaemin, and Hyuck in tow. “Let me take one last hit and you guys can finish the rest,” Mark says to them, the freshmen’s faces lighting up at the older boy’s offer of free weed. “How was the party?”

The four of them crowd around Mark as they sit down, faces flushed and smiles a bit too wide as they excitedly tell Mark about the party. The boy’s attention begins to drift as the high washes over his entire body, his eyes roaming over the room before settling on you. He watches you laugh as you race against Doyoung in Mario Kart, and he can’t tell if the warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest is from the weed or from you. Maybe one day he’ll be able to tell you. Maybe-

“Hyung,” Renjun says as he gingerly takes the joint from Mark’s fingers, interrupting the elder’s train of thought and bringing his attention back to the four boys in front of him. “Are you even listening to us?”

Mark’s brain scrambles to recall the last thing he heard, handing Renjun the lighter as he sits up straighter. “Y-Yeah, of course I’m listening. You said Hyuck spilled his beer on Yuqi, right? Aren’t they in the same calculus class?” Jaemin nods at that, going on to explain that the whole reason Hyuck was talking to Yuqi that night was to be Renjun’s wingman, but Mark loses track of the conversation once more as they continue. His eyes drift back to you once more, shocked to find your eyes already on him, and his heart starts beating faster when you flash him a soft smile.

Yeah. Maybe one day.

[chibistarlyte]

tododeku dialogue prompt - "I may have panicked a bit,,,"

thank u so much for the prompts, friend. you’re the best.

cw: panic attacks, mentions of blood and small injury

.

Izuku was about three blocks from home when he smelled something burning.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t exactly the right word. It was more like...something smelled like it had already been burnt.

As tired as he was from a long day of dealing with small-scale villains, he still quickened his pace and pretty much jogged the rest of the way to his apartment building. The smell only got stronger the closer home he got, and his worry grew when he looked up and saw remnants of smoke trailing out of an open window four floors up. He took the steps two at a time to reach his and Shouto’s fourth-floor apartment.

Izuku fumbled with his key in the lock, practically falling into the apartment once he got the door open. Expecting to see everything completely falling apart, he was shocked to see that everything seemed...well, normal at first glance. Except for the pervasive burnt odor that made his nostrils itch.

He slowly closed the door behind him and slid out of his signature red high-tops, eyes wide and searching for anything that was out of place. Shouto’s boots were by the door, so that meant he had to be home...

But when Izuku stepped further into the apartment, he was greeted with emptiness and silence.

“Shou...?” the green-haired hero called out, looking around for his boyfriend. He wasn’t on the couch, he wasn’t doing paperwork at the table...maybe he was in the kitchen...?

Izuku stopped short and gasped when he saw the melted kettle on the counter, scorch and burn marks along the cabinets. Shards of Shouto’s favorite mug--the green one with a cat on it--littered the counter and floor. The small window above the sink was open, the last dregs of smoke floating out into the evening air.

“Shouto?” Izuku called out again, urgency threading its way into his voice. He spotted a trail of burn marks on the floor, following them down the small hallway leading to their bedroom and bathroom. The bathroom door was closed, and as Izuku approached, he could hear faint noises coming from inside. He pressed his ear to the door, listening with caution.

“Shit, fuck...” he heard Shouto, followed by the clattering of something falling either into the sink or onto the floor. “Goddammit,” Shouto then said, sounding like he was swearing through clenched teeth, voice wobbly as if trying to hold in tears.

“Shouto?” Izuku said a third time, rapping his knuckles on the door in quick succession. All sounds from behind the door ceased, save for what Izuku could swear was a sniffle. “I’m coming in...” A scarred hand twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open a crack.

“N-no, don’t...” Shouto started, but Izuku was already looking at him with wide eyes before he could get the rest of his sentence out.

Shouto was a mess.

Blood was pooling in the creases of his palms, some of it having dripped into the sink. The tee shirt Shouto was wearing was burned beyond repair, the left sleeve completely incinerated into nothingness. Angry red blotches patterned the pale skin of his left arm, some of them starting to blister. Tear tracks trailed down both sides of his face, and newer tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and threatened to fall. Rolls of gauze, tubes of ointment, and bandages were scattered on the floor at the base of the sink.

And Shouto was shaking like a leaf.

Izuku’s hands immediately attached themselves to Shouto’s cheeks, his thumbs wiping at the tears leaking from mismatched eyes. “What happened, Shouto...?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Shouto squeezed his eyes shut, leaning his head forward into Izuku’s touch. “I...may have panicked a bit...” he said hoarsely, shakily.

Izuku’s heart split in two, hearing his Shouto’s voice sound so broken. “Here, let’s...let’s get you cleaned up...”

Izuku guided Shouto to sit on the side of their small bathtub, gently taking his boyfriend’s wrists and balancing his arms on his knees so that his bloody palms were facing up. He then retrieved the medical supplies that Shouto had dropped all over the floor, as well as retrieving some more from their giant medicine cabinet--being professional heroes, they owned more by way of first aid than the average person would normally have on hand.

When Izuku returned, Shouto’s hands were still shaking.

Settling on his knees in front of Shouto, Izuku set to cleaning the cuts on Shouto’s hands with antiseptic. Shouto didn’t even flinch at the stinging sensation the liquid was most likely causing on the open wounds. In fact, Shouto almost seemed like he was in a daze. Blue and brown eyes stared off into space as Izuku tended to his boyfriend. He rubbed some antibiotic ointment onto the cuts and wrapped Shouto’s hands with gauze.

“I broke my mug,” Shouto’s scratchy, sullen admission broke the silence. “The one you got me for my birthday.”

Izuku smiled sadly as he taped off the gauze to keep it in place. “It’s okay, Shou. I can get you another.”

“That’s not the point...” Shouto’s voice sounded strangled then, and Izuku heard him swallow before continuing. “I just...I couldn’t stop shaking, and I dropped it, and it broke everywhere...”

By the end of his light rambling, Shouto was wheezing slightly.

“Hey.” Izuku’s hands once again cupped Shouto’s face and his green eyes stared unwaveringly at his distressed boyfriend. “Breathe. We don’t want you hyperventilating, okay?”

Eyes scrunched closed, Shouto nodded slightly and sucked in a slow breath through his nose. He exhaled through his mouth and the sudden burst of air ruffled Izuku’s green curls.

“Good, good...keep doing that.” Izuku looked to his side, where he found the massive tube of burn ointment they kept around at all times--a necessity when living with a fire quirk. He applied the ointment to the burns on Shouto’s arm while Shouto continued his breathing exercise.

Slowly but surely, the shaking in Shouto’s hands and arms began to subside. By the time Izuku was done bandaging up the burns, there was barely a tremor to be felt.

“Thank you,” Shouto said quietly, reaching for Izuku to pull him into a hug. Izuku complied all-too-willingly, burying his face against Shouto’s torso and wrapping his arms tightly around the icy-hot hero.

“No need to thank me,” Izuku said into Shouto’s burned shirt, his response muffled by the fabric. He felt Shouto squeeze him tighter. It didn’t need to be said, but Izuku would do anything, anything, for Shouto. And he knew Shouto would do anything for him.

Izuku leaned back slightly, only enough to look up at Shouto, his arms still wrapped around the taller man. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The question seemed to give Shouto pause, but then he shook his head. His red and white fringe mixed together with the movement. “Maybe later...after I clean up my mess,” he said, his eyes avoiding Izuku’s by glancing off to the side.

“I’ll help,” Izuku said, finally letting go of Shouto and standing up. His legs tingled after sitting on his knees for so long. “But you should change first. Your shirt is, ah...”

“Ruined,” Shouto finished guiltily.

Another sad smile tugged at Izuku’s lips.

Shouto didn’t stand just yet. Instead, he reached for Izuku again and pulled him into another hug. This time, their positions were reversed and Shouto nuzzled his face against Izuku’s stomach.

Izuku combed his crooked fingers through Shouto’s hair.

“We’re gonna need a new kettle, too,” Shouto said wryly, and Izuku let out a small laugh.

“That won’t be a problem. I think my mom has like five of them; we could always procure one from her.”

Izuku felt more than heard Shouto’s snort against his shirt and he smiled. It seemed Shouto was feeling at least a little better.

It didn’t bother him that Shouto didn’t want to talk about what had caused this particular panic attack. Izuku knew that triggers were fickle things, and could occur at the most haphazard of times. The important thing was that Shouto was safe, and Izuku would care for him to the best of his ability. If Shouto did want to talk about it, he would do so in his own time. And Izuku had nothing but time to give.

Izuku laid a gentle kiss to the crown of Shouto’s head. Whatever troubles they had, traumas or otherwise, they would face them together.

[blankdblank]

Only Human Pt 5

Pt 1 - Pt 2 – Pt 3 - Pt 4  @deepestfirefun​

A few months had melted away and in your own resin shop you made your own wares, tiny bits and bobs to keep yourself occupied between your timid steps to work into helping Thorin more with Erebor. Recently however you seemed to be spending more mornings in bed designing possible trinkets and reading the detailed letters from the Elves, who were all thrilled to be arriving for the party starting the following day they would be arriving for this night, mingled with those being the usual weekly updates from Legolas on Felienne.

Now however you were readying for Dain’s arrival and a huff left you at the third dress that refused to zip and you decided to wear one of your most forgiving pair of jeans and stole one of Thorin’s shirts you added a vest over mumbling, “Thorin will be too distracted by my boobs to notice it’s his shirt.” You said leaving the ties over your chest open to leave your hoisted up cleavage on full display for the only Dwarf allowed and surely intending on staring. A suspicion of yours had you counting the days back and now the lack of fitted clothing surely along with the swollen and tender chest you had been keeping your now prone to staring husband from anything but gently touching.

Hormones had been driving you mad and up to the welcoming balcony you crossed your arms under your bust at Thorin’s side when he glanced down at his side to look you over and at a focused moment too long on your curves he cleared his throat and flashed you a grin after kissing your cheek and looked forward to greet his cousin. A path through a bog had the fiery haired Dwarf reeking to high heaven and as soon as the scent hit you your hands clapped over your nose and mouth groaning in fleeing behind Dis to the side hall, “Oh no..” The lurch of your stomach had her smirking and making the excuse in your place making Dain laugh out loud and issue his apologies shouted down the hall answered with a hand waving around the corner making him laugh again and join Thorin on the stroll up to the apartment he was given to bathe and change.

.

Inhaling shakily you wet your face again in a groan and heard the voice from the doorway behind you, “Silverstar, I got your letter.” Standing up you patted the hand towel on the rung to your face and turned to groan again, peering up at him in lowering the towel he smirked at you closing the distance to smooth his glowing hand over your belly, “Twins.”

A scoff from you made him chuckle and he offered you a jar of gummies, one of which you ate, “Thank you.”

He nodded, “You are welcome. It will do little, twins are more trying to carry. Still, Thorin will be enthralled with your every breath at the news.”

You rolled your eyes, “I have to get down to the dinner.”

Leaning in he kissed your forehead, “Just steer clear of the wine.”

You sighed again, “I doubt I will ever drink again. Wine got me into this.” Making him chuckle.

.

Lost in the celebrations you caught Thorin’s stroll with Dain around the packed hall readying for the first of the toasts while you were spotted shaking your head and waving Bifur away from filling your goblet with wine. Pointedly Thorin’s eyes turned to you and his friend who seemed to be lost in a one sided bickering match. Bofur was waved closer by Bifur Thorin’s eyes narrowed in watching you.

Shaking your head you repeated again lowly to Bifur, “No wine thank you.” Again he gestured the wine bottle to the goblet and you shook your head, “No, thank you, really.” Wetting his lips he turned to find his brother already looking who raced over at his head nod to do so. Attention was steadily shifting to noticing you as Bifur mumbled to Bofur in Khuzdul making Bofur crouch at your side with a confused grin, “My Queen-,”

Lowly you said, “Bofur, I can’t have wine.”

Bofur, “But, the toasts, what of ale? We could find you a pint!”

Shaking your head you said, “No, Bofur, you don’t,”

Bofur glanced at the Kings then back to you, “Your Majesty, we really-,”

Leaning in so only he could hear you, you whispered, “I can’t drink, I’m pregnant.” A sudden squeak from Bofur came in his pull back and you shook your head, “I haven’t told anyone yet.”

Bofur shot upright and loudly said, “You are right! I do detect a whiff of smoke! It must be the pies!” Gripping Bifur’s shirt he tugged him along into the kitchen sharing the news and stirring up the rush to find a mixed fruit drink that could be mistaken for wine or ale at a distance. The choice was found and tasted by you in the toast while Thorin shook off the irritation of the assumed near slight at refusing to toast to his kin’s good will that was easily forgotten.

.

Subtly, that was the road you had chosen and surely you were the biggest idiot in the mountain forgetting that Thorin had gotten lost in the Shire twice and thought a painting purple eyed horse to be something unique but possible, so how in the hell could leaving tiny baby booties and blankets Ori had been helping you make along with other subtle hints and diet changes. With a sigh you pulled on another of the shirts Dori had made for you similar to Thorin’s along with several pants and dresses to be more agreeable to the changes coming. All subtlety of course could be a herd of rhinos strolling through the apartment and surely he would ask if a window was open.

Thorin was off on a hunting trip giving you two weeks to ready your plan, with sketches you gathered the equally as irritated Company and Durin clan remaining who had found out the clues for themselves and wished to help you. A nursery was readied and you hoped that in your inability to just say what was happening you hoped that this plan would work and he would realize it before you went into labor.

.

Returning early while you were still in bed Thorin beamed stripping and bathing once he successfully managed to sneak inside. Lately he couldn’t put his finger on it but you were more breathtaking than he could ever recall, it puzzled him greatly as to why and more and more his body was burning to return to your former loving evenings as he had hit his own bout of what could be construed as a Dwarven heat to conceive in this sudden change in you. There had been plans to have children and since your proposal your plans to have given him children already had no doubt triggered this as it kept replaying in his mind signifying to him that you were ready for this step.

Grinning madly he pulled on a pair of sleeping pants and went to get a drink of water before bed only to pause in the open doorway making him fetch a lantern he used to light the room and inspect it. With brows furrowed he turned around hearing you grumble and head to the bathroom making him turn and wait outside the doorway. A flush and the opening of the door later he smirked seeing you shuffling back to bed in his shirt, lowly he said making you flinch, “Why’s there a crib and shelves in the spare room?”

Turning around with your hand on your chest you said, “Thorin! Don’t scare me like that!”

Nearing you he smoothed his hands over your arms and leaned in to kiss you sweetly, “I am sorry My Love. Still, why is that furniture in the spare room?”

Too tired to handle this right now you said, “I’ll give you three guesses.” Narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips in thought meaning he would be taking a while on this, easing your arms around his neck he smirked at your sighed addition of, “Until then, the bed’s been awfully empty without you, and I’ve been having all these, dreams.”

Reaching down he gripped your thighs lifting you to wrap around his middle purring, “I do apologize My Love, for leaving you in these, conditions.” Planting his lips on yours for the walk to bed.

.

A long night of very little sleep and the King sat with brows knitted in focus on anything possible to explain the change instead of his current meeting. Not paying any mind either Gloin stood spouting off nonsense while everyone simply sat staring at Thorin waiting for it to click in varying stages of loosing it making Fili and Kili sit confused at the absurd meeting they began to pinch themselves in to ensure they hadn’t fallen asleep in another meeting.

Wide eyed Thorin shot up shouting “BABY!” and turned to race to the doors, in loud relieved exhales the Company collapsed back into their chairs while the Princes looked around at the now open meeting room while Thorin raced off repeating the word in loud shouts all the way up to the Royal Wing. Straight to the weekly tea you had with the other Noble Ladies and threw the doors open. Wide eyed the Ladies watched him rush over to you asking, “Baby?!” He looked you over asking as you set your cup down, “Baby, baby?!”

“Yes Thorin, Babies.” You raised two fingers and his knees gave out dropping him at your feet to stare at your stomach, easing between your legs in the sea of excited and relieved women complimenting you both on the news he eased his arms around your waist kissing your still barely changed stomach between purred sentiments. It wasn’t long though until he kissed you on the lips and turned to shoot out of the room to continue his goal to shout it to everyone in the mountain.

Still buzzing and trembling from excitement as everything began to sink in bringing up more he had missed and would make up to you for. Atop the balcony overlooking the front gate his hands folded around the banister as atop the Great Elk and Felienne carrying Thranduil and Legolas and Thorin shouted, “We’re having Twins!!”

Thranduil smirked lifting a box from his lap, shouting back, “We brought gifts!”

Nesting mode had officially begun and there wasn’t a Dwarf in the mountain willing or able to stop it. Helpless you sat back trying to remain calm being fawned over by any Dwarf within earshot. Nightly though Thorin did help, a glimpse of his fathering, non hovering side, came out in his seat by the bed with harp in hand playing and singing you both to sleep, insisting that he simply had to or the pair would not let you rest at all. Of course after which you had dozed off from he would melt around your back to sleep too before waking to make you breakfast followed by your first daily massage.

.

Barely a week to go and you just had it with the company, your daily stops were canceled and Dis, fully understanding of your troublesome week she brought you back to her apartment to settle you into her spare room for a relaxing day. Candles and calming songs in wind up music boxes were had with a session of time to just share your concerns with her, her mother and gran about everything. Snacks and more last week traditional gifts had you relaxed more and the Princes, chosen guards for you’re your day off met with Thorin to keep him calm when he would find your apartment empty. His scowl spread onto his face as he mumbled, “Their snacks won’t be enough…” Turning to make you the proper meal only felt he could pull together.

..

Around a Lord filled dinner red faced you sat when a sneeze seemingly led to your water breaking. Instantly Maglor raced you to the Midwife’s wing, even without a Midwife he had taken charge, he had helped your mother birth you and would aid Kuu, the Midwife Thranduil had brought with him through it. Right behind you Thorin felt no need for the supportive pillows and used himself as per tradition, straddling the special bench you were on holding you upright. Massaging your back and aiding you in remembering to breathe through the worsening contractions until finally the pair of infants were bathed and bundled up as Thorin helped to get you soaked and mostly healed with the traditional Elven bath.

The news had erupted through the mountain after the disturbingly quiet birth the frighteningly small twins compared to the usual Dwarven Pumpkin sized infants. One of each, a boy and girl were both welcomed and treasured, surprisingly more than others were the Princes, who claimed each and every chance to fawn over their cousins they were forming a list of things they wished to teach them when they were older. Days for a few hours at least under Thorin’s orders guests were permitted under careful watch yet nights were completely off limits and just for you four, unless he was called away, then the women in his clan along with Maglor were allowed to stay with you.

Everyone in the clan said he would ease up, it was just his way of ensuring you were safe and proving his affections publicly, surprisingly for you the rules had been so easily kept to that when you found out that all Dwarves tend to follow that etiquette. All the harder Thorin tried to keep the meetings and sudden emergencies pulling him away to a minimum yet when he did he was so concerned that he would often forget a thing or two. Needing a stroll outside of this approved wing you donned the slings Maglor had made for you and under his watch you grabbed the leather bounded packet of papers Thorin had forgotten after dolling up just a tad for a public approval underneath Thorin’s fur lined robe.

Down through the mountain eager bowed heads at the pre usual two month post birth public outings of the Queen as per tradition and looked you over wondering what that meant about your plans for supervision for the heirs. The early winter making you bring the robe closer across your chest to cover the sleeping infants in the slings. Straight to the meeting hall you went and the guards out front bowed their heads and opened the doors turning all the heads to you and your quick wave. Right over to Thorin, who straightened up in his seat wide eyed looking you and your empty arms over in the walk to his side.

Flashing you a weak grin he eyed the packet you passed him, “You forgot these.”

Wetting his lips he readied to ask about the infants only to watch you shift your hands under the butt of your son in his grumble making Thorin smirk and lean in to peek under his robe seeing their hatted heads. “Are you alright, My Love?”

You nodded, “Just needed to get out for a bit. Gonna head up for my snack though, nearly feeding time, and I’ll let you get back to your meeting.” On his feet he gave you a kiss and settled into his seat again grinning madly after you had left the room, already planning on giving those slings of yours a try to help you carry the pair for a stroll through the mountain to help you get a change of scenery. Each day he added more and more little things to show you just how deeply he loved you and treasured everything you had brought into his life and that every day for the rest of his life he would never forget to make it known to you and the world around this thriving kingdom.

[rising-generations]

Iris. [SDRA2 Sannohashi Oneshot]

read on ao3 here if you please

plot:

and i don't want the world to see me 'cause i don't think that they'd understand when everything's made to be broken i just want you to know who i am.

syobai hashimoto has to fix the biggest mistake he's ever made in his life. mikado sannoji has to deal with what syobai leaves behind when he runs away. it was never supposed to go this far.

syobai-focused sannohashi, set in the "nuclear" AU. more explained inside. featuring trans!mikado and sora/syobai friendship. tw for mentions of suicide attempt in the beginning.

notes:

So to make a long story short, this series takes place after a huge nuclear war decimated half of the human population and fucked up a lot of shit with the environment and people's bodies. Everybody knows shit's fucked. The SDRA2 kids exist in the same universe as the rest of the canon Ultimates, and everyone's around the same age (THH and NDRV3 kids are about 22, SDR2 kids are 23, SDRA2 kids are around 20-21). So everyone's an adult. Don't come for my throat. Don't like it, don't leave a nasty comment, thanks! Bad and stinky comments will be placed inside the bee oven to atone for their sins.

It's not often that Syobai admits this, but this time, he's absolutely, completely, royally, fucked up. Badly. And normally he doesn't care, but this time is so very different. Sitting at a table in a nearly-empty diner at half-past noon is not where he thought he was gonna end up today, but here he is, with his head in his hands, staring down at his phone's lock screen, counting the minutes since Sora sent her "omw" text.

This diner serves whiskey. A lot of places serve liquor now, have since the war tore the world apart and left millions of traumatized people to deal with the aftermath, many of them turning to alcohol to cope. Syobai has been drinking since the ripe old age of ten, so that's not new to him, and the whiskey they have here is strong, and it's tempting.

It's so, so tempting. But if he does that, it won't end very well for him; first of all, Sora would likely -- definitely -- beat his ass into next week if she shows up and finds him drunk. Second, in the state he's currently in emotionally, if he gets drunk, all he's going to do is remember things, and when he remembers things, he ends up waking up on the bathroom floor at 3 AM in a puddle of his own tears with a bottle of pain pills in his hand.

So Syobai won't drink. Not today, anyway. But God damn, does he really want to smoke.

As soon as he starts to get up to go outside (the diner has a no smoking policy, which he thinks is stupid considering the fact that nuclear warfare has done shit to the air they don't even know about yet, but he's not willing to get kicked out and risk a beating by Sora yet again), the universe interferes with his life once more. Sora steps in through the door of the diner.

Well there goes that plan.

She spots him fairly quickly and strides over to the booth in the back corner, sliding into the seat like nothing's changed. Syobai remembers when they'd used to skip class every Wednesday and go down to the diner down the street from Hope's Peak, the one that served all the crazy Western food, and dare each other to eat the craziest shit on the menu as fast as they could without puking or choking. Sora, of course, would win every time, and "claim her victory for all of the lesbians out there."

It's enough to make him smile a little bit. The diner was abandoned when the war started, but they still hang out there sometimes.

"So, you wanna tell me what's wrong with you?"

Sora's voice breaks through his thoughts, and Syobai lifts his head to look at her. She's got her chin in her hand, and her elbow propped on the table.

"Elbows on the table? Not very lady-like," Syobai jokes. With her free hand, Sora flips him off, and he snickers. "I'm kidding, geez. Who says there's anything wrong with me?"

Sora points at the complimentary basket of chips the diner serves with every customer. "There's food on the table, and you haven't eaten it all yet to spite me. Now, I asked you nicely. Don't make me come over there."

Well. Looks like he can't stall his explanation anymore.

He lets out a long, heavy, slow sigh, and laces his fingers together in front of him on the table. Syobai turns his grey-eyed gaze down towards the surface of the table, before forcing himself to look up and meet Sora's eyes.

"I need your help," he says simply. "I fucked up."

"You do that a lot. Elaborate."

"I fucked up really, really bad." Syobai pauses. "With Mikado."

Sora tilts her head. "Last time I asked, you told me the two of you were "just sleeping together casually." Did you lie to me, Syobai?"

Syobai swallows heavily. He can hear his heart beating in his ears.

"Mikado is pregnant," he finally says. The words actually leaving his lips feel like the final blow in a fight, and he's just lost. "With my children."

"... oh." Sora blinks a few times. "So this was an accident, I take it? Whatever happened to high school Syobai Hashimoto who carried five different types of condoms in his wallet at all times just in case he met a hot guy walking home from school?"

"Hey, in my defense, I usually still have condoms." Yes, they're a bit harder to find nowadays, as is almost everything, but up until now, he's always managed to have one on hand for when the two of them start feeling frisky (which tends to happen at least once a day). "To answer your question, though, what happened is Setsuka decided to get hitched."

"The party," Sora gasps, remembering suddenly. "Oh, my God. So you two did fuck in the bathroom! Emma owes me five thousand yen."

"Yes, we did do that," Syobai mumbles. It's not totally his fault, he thinks. It's not like Mikado wasn't grinding on him half the night, begging him to fuck him as hard as he could against the wall. It's no doubt the best sex he's ever had in his life.

And, of course, it's the one time they fuck without a condom and without pulling out. Not that that's guaranteed to help anything, but hey, it might have? Maybe it's just wishful thinking on Syobai's part.

"So what's the problem?" Sora continues. "Does he not want the babies?"

Syobai looks away. "I, uh. I don't know."

Sora's eyes narrow dangerously. "You didn't talk to him about it?"

Syobai gives a dry laugh. "Well, ya see, that's where the whole "I fucked up really bad" bit comes in."

"What'd you do." This isn't spoken as a question, somehow, as Sora's voice deepens. She's already pissed off, great, and Syobai has a feeling she won't be any happier when he tells this part of the story.

"Um." Syobai swallows again, more nervous this time. "I... I ran off."

Silence. "Excuse me?" Sora says. "You wanna run that by me again?"

Syobai still isn't meeting her eyes. He recalls exactly how the exchange went, just about two hours ago now.

"I'm pregnant."

The world stops turning.

Mikado's holding his hands over his stomach, gloved fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt so tightly his hands shake. Syobai, on the other hand, just. Stands there. Staring at Mikado, completely speechless.

Before he knows it, his body is reacting all on its own. Syobai opens his mouth, trying to form an intelligent response, but all that comes out is two words he'll regret deeply:

"I can't."

Before Mikado reacts to that, Syobai yanks the front door open and takes off down the street, running and running and running until he can't, falling to his knees behind the 7-11 -- how the hell did he get there, it's a mile from the house -- choking and coughing before he inevitably pukes from the strain of running so far, so fast.

This all goes through his head in the span of about two seconds. "I just stood there like an idiot," Syobai finally says. "I -- I said I can't and then I ran." His hand curls into a fist. "I ran like the dumb fucking coward I am." He brings his fist down on the table as hard as he can. Sora doesn't jump, instead staring at him evenly. "Go ahead and say it. I know you want to."

"You're right for once. What the hell is wrong with you?" Sora snaps. "I know that taking responsibility for your numerous fuck-ups is completely foreign to you, and usually you get away with it with no consequences because that's just how it is when you deal with people you don't care about and criminals, and hey, I can let it go when it's some nameless Yakuza dude who got assassinated with a gun you sold someone 'cause I don't care either," she begins. "But then, you turn around and do this shit? To Mikado? To someone we all know, and yeah, he might be a rat, but he doesn't deserve to be left high and dry and pregnant and scared because you --" And here she points at him, Syobai flinching as every word cuts deeper, "-- are a fucking coward. You're God damn right you screwed up."

"I was scared," Syobai says, his weak attempt at a protest surprising even himself.

"You were scared?" Sora laughs, and it's bitter. "That's funny. It's funny that you were scared. How do you think Mikado feels right now? Alone, facing the possibility of having to raise more than one child by himself after the man he's spent half of high school madly in love with, and the man he's been sleeping with for the past six months, ran away when he told him he'd gotten him pregnant?"

There's really nothing he can say to that. Syobai sighs shakily. "I wasn't just scared because he's pregnant," he finally says. "I was scared because..."

He shuts his eyes.

"Because I love him. I love him, so much that it hurts, and I may as well have just stabbed him right in the chest."

"And you're not used to that," Sora says. "You're not used to caring for anyone except yourself. But as long as you kept telling yourself it was just for fun, and there were no feelings involved, you could shrug it off. Maybe a part of you thought Mikado felt the same way, like it was just a game. Then he started to make your world wider, you started to get comfortable with it, and you got scared. Then he came to you, and told you that it wasn't just him anymore, and you panicked. You couldn't handle it. But instead of staying there and talking to him about it like an adult, you were just cryptic, and then you ran away."

Syobai opens his eyes and looks over at Sora. He somehow looks even older than he usually does. "Yeah. Yeah, you got me there." He swallows, heavily, and his mouth tastes like copper from how hard he's been chewing on his inner lip. "It was just supposed to be for fun. It was never supposed to be serious."

"Yeah, well, tough shit," Sora shrugs. "Mikado's pregnant. You're gonna be a dad. You could run all the way to America and it wouldn't change a thing. The only difference is, Mikado has to live with what you gave him forever. You've got two choices: you can drag your sorry ass home and show Mikado you're sorry, or you can keep running away. But, I'll have you know..." And here, Sora's voice darkens, and she looks more dangerous now than she ever did before even with a gun in her hands, "If you leave him like that? And if you ever run away from him like that again? And dare to show your face in Japan again? I will personally hunt you down and make you beg for me to kill you. Understand?"

"... yeah. I understand," Syobai replies. He runs a hand through his hair while Sora takes a couple of breaths to calm herself down. "I don't want to leave him. But I don't think I'm ready to be a father. Or much of anything, really." He looks down at his hands, rough and calloused and forever stained with the blood of so many that only he can see. "What if I can't love them?"

"If you love Mikado as much as you say you do, you'll fall in love with those babies way before they're ever born," Sora tells him. "Listen. This world's gone to shit. It's gonna be hard to raise a family like this. That's why Yoruko and I are waiting. But it's a little too late for you to do that, so all you can do is suck it up and do everything you can to make sure they never have to be a part of what we were."

Sora's words seal Syobai's decision.

---

He tries calling Mikado to tell him he's coming home for an hour, and gets absolutely no response. A part of Syobai is worried, desperately hoping Mikado didn't do something stupid and end up hurting himself, and wants to get home as soon as he can, but...

The other part of him feels like if he just shows up at home with no warning, it'll only make the situation that much worse.

So he calls, and calls, and calls, and gets sent to voicemail over and over, until finally, there's an answer.

"Fucking Syobai Hashimoto," a voice that is decidedly not Mikado's comes through the speaker. "I ought to skin you alive and wear you like a fur coat. How dare you."

Syobai sighs and frowns, rubs a hand over his face. "Hello, Nikei."

"Don't you hello, Nikei me!" The furious man spits over the phone. "Ever since Mikado told me you two were a thing, I've been looking for a reason to shoot you and make Why Syobai Hashimoto's Death Should be Celebrated as a National Holiday an article on the front page news for a month straight! Now I finally get a reason and I can't even do it because Mikado wants his kids to know their scumbag father!"

Syobai pauses. "... he wants me to come back?"

"I want you to come back, too," Nikei starts to say. "So I can beat you to death with a baseball bat." It sounds like he wants to say more, but then Syobai hears a very quiet, muffled voice in the background. It has to be Mikado. He strains to hear, but it's no use, because the phone doesn't pick up exactly what he's saying. A few seconds later, though, he hears Nikei give a heavy sigh.

"Alright, fine. Mikado wants to hear you out, so I won't be here when you get back, sadly," Nikei mutters. "But I can be there in ten minutes tops if he calls me back, and I'd love to see you try to outrun my bullets."

"Point taken." Syobai closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath. "Tell him to leave the door unlocked. I'm coming home."

---

It takes a little under an hour for Syobai to get home. He has to walk all the way there, after all, and he's already tired, but he pushes through. By the time he makes it to the driveway, it feels like his legs are about to fall off.

Then he gets to the front door, puts his hand on the doorknob, and hesitates. It's like all of the exhaustion evaporates, replaced by pure adrenaline and the urge to turn around and start running again.

No. He's made up his mind. Syobai closes his eyes, the mental image of Mikado laughing brightly in his arms appearing to him with no trouble at all, without him even needing to think about it.

God. All the things he would do to make that smile come back to Mikado's face. All the things he would do to forget the look of heartbreak he saw for just a split second when they were standing in the living room.

He turns the doorknob and walks inside the empty living room. His feet land in the same place they were, and he lets the door close behind him as he takes a few shallow breaths. The nagging little voice in the back of his head says you should've ended this a long time ago, Hashimoto. You always knew you'd never be man enough for him, to protect him, to care for him. You're just a coward.

Syobai ignores it, pushes through the pain and walks over to the door of the bedroom he and Mikado have been sharing. Technically, it's Syobai's room, because this is his house, but his sheets smell like Mikado, and it's his and Mikado's clothes on the floor in that room, and there's a picture of both of them hanging on the wall.

Syobai bites his lip so hard he tastes blood, then knocks three times on the door. He contemplates saying something to announce his presence, but finds it better to keep his mouth shut for right now.

At least, until the door opens up, and it's Mikado standing before him, with no mask, his face clearly streaked and stained with tears. Syobai forces himself to look at his face, look him in the eyes, because Mikado deserves that, at least. He deserves so much more than what Syobai's given him.

Neither of them really knows what to say at first. Then Syobai takes a shuddering, shallow breath.

"I'm sorry, for what I said," Syobai finally says. "I said "I can't." That was a lie. I - I can, I just... didn't want to face it."

"I really hope you didn't come all the way here just to say I'm sorry and expect me to forgive you," Mikado says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Syobai shakes his head. "I'm not asking you to forgive me right now," he murmurs. "I just want you to hear me out. Then you can do whatever you want. I swear. Please."

Mikado bites his lip and looks down at the floor, contemplating. "Fine. But I'm not doing this for you."

"That's okay." Syobai closes his eyes for a moment, then looks back evenly at Mikado as he slowly gets to his knees, now looking up at him. Mikado doesn't hide the look of shock on his face as Syobai starts talking.

"Listen. I'm not gonna make excuses. I'm a coward, and I'm a fool. I broke your heart. When things go beyond my intentions, I try to own up to them. Today I ran away instead." He swallows heavily, watches as Mikado shuts his eyes tight. "I - until you told me this morning, I was a man with nothing to lose. Nobody but myself. Then I went from that, to having everything to lose in two words. All my life, I never cared about what happened to anybody but myself. I didn't give a shit. And now..." He looks at Mikado's stomach, where he's resting one of his gloved hands, as though he isn't even thinking about it.

"I realized no matter how far I ran, or for how long, I'd never be able to forget that. I couldn't change it. I can't go back in time and stop what happened." Syobai sighs. Mikado's hands tremble. "The more I thought about it, the more I realized: I don't want to stop what happened. I don't want these kids to not exist."

"Then why did you run away? Why'd you leave me?" Mikado chokes out.

There's no turning back now. Syobai looks at Mikado right in the eyes, grey meeting pale brown, Syobai finally ready to say the words that could make or break him.

"Because I love you, Mikado Sannoji," Syobai says, clearly, sincerely, the only words that have ever come from his mouth with complete purity. "I love you, and it's real and it's raw and it scares the living hell out of me, because I didn't think I could until you walked into my life." He reaches out, fully ready for Mikado to push him away. Instead, he's pleasantly surprised when his cold hands are wrapped in Mikado's warm ones. He hasn't looked away from him, not for a moment, watching as more tears spill down Mikado's face despite him trying to fight them. "I got through life by putting up paywalls, literally, and I knew no person in their right mind would ever wanna get past them." He gives a little laugh. "I didn't count on you, coming in and blowing holes through them."

"Hey, I only blew a hole in a wall once, and that was an accident," Mikado laughs and cries at the same time, his body trembling. By now, Syobai's shaking too, but he's still fighting his own tears.

"Well, you sure got rid of mine," Syobai says. He lifts one of his hands to his lips and kisses his knuckles. "To be honest, I'm still scared. I don't know what I'm doing, not with you, not with the kids we made, not with my life, but I do know one thing: I wanna figure it out with you, and nobody else."

His voice cracks. Syobai swallows heavily, one last ditch-effort attempt at holding back his emotions.

"Will you let me stay here, right here, by your side?" Syobai asks, voice strained. "Will you let me become the man you deserve?" He sniffs, his last words coming in a quiet sob:

"Will you let me be a father?"

Mikado nods, squeezes Syobai's hands, his decision made as soon as he sees the tears -- so very real, undeniable evidence of Syobai bearing his soul to Mikado for the first time -- coming down his face like rain.

"Yeah. Yes, let's do it," Mikado whispers. "Oh, my God. We're gonna be fathers."

Syobai leans forward a little, rests his head against Mikado's belly, presses their still interlocked hands against the small, barely-noticeable swell, evidence that their children are safe, growing, and healthy. He doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to, as he rolls up the bottom of Mikado's shirt and kisses his skin, so gently he's afraid he imagined it at first.

Syobai Hashimoto doesn't so much fall in love with Mikado Sannoji; instead, rather, he stumbles into it, clumsy and foolish and with no grace at all. But he falls in love with their little ones in a split second, a moment in time he'll never forget.